Throw your Inhibition out the door

Happy Halloween

I don't care how old you are, this is always the best holiday ever. Thanksgiving is always a little crazy because of family, and Christmas just reminds you that the older you get the more a) presents you stop getting b) money you end up spending.

Not Halloween. Somethings in the air about Halloween. There was a show called Dead Like Me(damn you bastards at Showtime for cancelling a truly brillant show, only to replace it with a show with that Hank Azario(forgive the spelling) who is a shrink who needs a shrink. Shame) about grim reapers who are kind of undead. People can see them,interact with them just as if they were alive, but technically they reap souls of people who are going to the afterlife. Now they didn't look like themselves. They each had a different look from who they were in their past lives, so as not to freak out people who may have known them in past lives "hey didn't just die?" that would be kind of awkward. The only time they looked like their normal selves to other people was on Halloween. So since George (the main character who was recently deceased) was reaping, or walking around town, as with the other reapers, they dressed up so no one would recognize them.

Thats what i feel everyday is like. That halloween is the only time in which are true faces are really shown. The rest of the days we are actually hiding behind this facade of who we are. We hide behind our friends, our family, our school, our jobs. We are walking masks hiding from the very thing we are. Halloween is the only day our true selves take shape. That we allow us selves to be seen. That the mask slowly fade away and all you have left is the person you are.

Something about this day, makes people throw their inhibitions out the window, down the street, far away from them. As if all that takes place on this day of debauchery will not matter when we wake up to a new day, a new month, of our lives.

Today it was like waking up on the wrong side of the bed. I woke up to a computer that wouldn't work, alarm that didn't go off, a door that would not open, and toe that i kept stubbing, and a leg that was cramped. Then to only get to History, recieve a bad grade on my European History paper Rough Draft, go to Spanish where my head was thinking about the TA and his ability to grade papers, and then Chemistry where he kept us way past 11. So i have decided to kick my downfall of a day in the ass, and lock my self in my room. Burrito, Cheesecake, Magazine, and a Lollipop, i am safely in my domain.

So last week i wish i could say that i was:

kidnapped by an extrodinarily handsome man, who took me to Spain or something, and i had endless days of fun.

or

that i saved a bunch of animals in a burning building, becoming a local hero, and earning a key to the city

or

that i was recruited by the CIA to become a operative,where i went to Russia for the last couple of days...i would disclose the extent of my mission, but then someone may have to get hurt, so i'll reframe

But in reality, it is just my procrastination that has caught up with me. I am a master procrastinator. When i should be doing something, i am doing something else totally unrelated to it. But with the end of the semester drawing near. Holidays coming fast, and more things to study for them i don't know what, plain exhaustation, frustration, and anxiety is what kept me from writing.

I don't think i thought about how quickly undergraduate studies would go by. I imagined four years would drag on as it did in highschool. Not the case. Before i knew it October smacked me in the face, then came Break, and now we are registering for classes in a week or two. I have more test that i can imagine, papers that i need to finish, stuff i should be studying for, and my head feels like it may expload at any moment, or that i will cry at the drop of a dime. When i do get stressed, i ramble. Like my thoughts come out in this frantic jumble of words. Like when i was deciding to change my major, and i pretty much rambled my anxieties to a complete stranger, who ask me how he could help me.

These last couple of days, i have been wandering aimlessly around campus, feeling like i have no direction. Freshman are killing me because they seemed like processed machines who have been sent to me to rub in my face that i am not good at math. My crush on Art boy is wanning, because well it's lack of progression, my dad stopped calling which made my mom do the "i told you so", and i was just plan tired. Of it all. I just needed to get away from it all. And clear my head. Even if clearing my head meant watching I love the 80's and horror movies, i just needed to be unaffected by anything.

Today is my Grandma's b-day, but since i have school, and my mom has work, we could only go this weekend to visit her. My grandma lives about four hours away, in a nice quaint little town. She moved their after we moved from Westchester. She was born there, and i guess was just tired of the business that is Tri-County. She lives near the water, so when we go visit her the first place i want to go is where the water is.

So i may have had alternative reasons to visit her. In August my grandma called my mom, rather excited, because she had found 19 pictures of me. For some reason as a child i took a lot of pictures or people took a lot of pictures of me. To say i was a camera whore would be an understatement. You know that saying that everyone is connected by 6 people or something, well i bet if you look hard enough somewhere in your many photos will be a picture of me of my smiling face. Thats how much of a camera person i was(which i weird now cause i rarely take photos). But when we moved, we left some things with grandma, assuming that we would drive up their when we got settle in our new house and get them. But we got into the accident which prevented us from getting some of our stuff, and by the time we were well enough to go see her, her garage(where she keeps everything) was full of things, that would take days to sort through(it's like a museum in there).

So hearing that she had found some pictures of me, was what drove me to really wanting to go visit, and because i love her. Ijust like seeing pictures of myself when i was the happiest, like a picture tells a thousands words. Well they also bring forth a thousand emotions. So when we got their, i snooped around, finding nothing, and then my mom and i went down into the city. It was gorgeous, i never wanted to leave. I can't even explain it in words. Just eing near the ocean, the wind blowing, brings so much peace to a trouble soul, and i felt safe there. Like the infinite water would never leave my side. Eventually we had to leave, picking up grandma from work and returning to her house.

Now i don't know if my grandma meant she had 19 pictures of me, or 19 pictures and 1 of them of me. Needless to say when she actually showed me the pictures, 18 of them were of my cousin christopher, standing aroung doing the "i'm bored face" and 1 of me. I was a little disappointed, but the weekend wasn't about my pictures, so i smiled, sayed thank you, and then we hung around watching the Food network(my grandma works at a backery). Then my Uncle came over...CRAP.

My uncle is married to probably the most horrible woman in the world. They were high school sweet hearts and when he went to the army they got married, they produced two of satans spawn, Michelle and Amanda. When we were younger they were nice, jolly people. Somewhere along the lines they thought they were god's gift to the world because they live in a nice house, and treated the rest of the family, like second hand citizens. Now my grandma thought me and my mom were kidding about their snobbiness, until she moved closer to them, and was faced with the wraith of their evilness. One time, when we were celbrating my grandma's b-day at their house, she said that me and Morg were rude, because of our cold demeanor to her, she also served food that a starving dog wouldn't eat...i think she liked when she found my chewed up gum under her table.

This natural tendency to dislike his wife and kids, make me to a point dislike him. Like how could a nice man, possibly spawn and marry that evil lady, and then have kids with her. He one of those "hoilday" uncles, you only see him on the holidays, and to make up for not seeing you he gives you money. Me and Morg rack up the big bucks when he's around. So when i heard he was coming with his new girlfriend i retreated to the room. Normally i would totally be appalled that he was cheating on his wife and that he has a girlfriend. But i don' think they've slept in the same bed since 91', and she is so evil i wouldn't blame him. But that didn't mean i wanted to see his new girlfriend, because generally i don't like people the first time i meet them(more on that later). When i heard them come in, i pretended like i was writing a paper or something, just to look too busy that i couldn't stay out in the living room and chat.

He came into the room, got me talking about what i plan to do in the future. And then gave me a 20, which is always nice(never said he gave a lot of money, but any is okay with me). Then like i was his daughter, he sat me down and talked about his marital situation. I kind of spaced on then, nodding my head, saying a few words, but mainly thinking about what CD i was going to buy. So after that long explanation he concluded with "since i'm not living with my wife anymore, i have meet someone really special to me, and i would like for you to meet her."

I was polite, said hey, cracked a joke or too, but left before i could say anything stupid. as i was leaving he gave me 20 more dollars...like me meeting her was a chore or something.

All in all, it was a good weekend. Today kind of blew it, but what can i say. It's halloween.

Oh...my classes for next semester look worse then this semester. Apparently mmy major change, is not so major when it comes to math, which i still have to take. What am i going to do?

Happy Halloween. and if today was a day that our true selves are going to be seen, then i would be a ballerina. Delicate, light on her feet, gracious, but whose movement posses so much strength and control. Their is almost a quiet strength about them, the way i'd like to be and be seen.