Broken Biscuit

I love abandoned buildings.

I can't even use past tense and say that somehow my preoccupation with the standing structures has died down. Because it hasn't.

I don't know what it is. When I was younger the abandoned buildings in lots, and neighborhoods, were turned into our own kind of horror story. We imagined the horrible thing must have taken place in the house that it was now covered up with boarded windows and broken glass.

We dared each other to venture into those place, scaring each other more than we needed too.

As I grew older though, my thoughts that abandoned houses were where bad things dwelled has turned into an appreciation for beauty that has simply faded. I began to look at the ruins not as a place in which destruction was winning it's war, but a place in which beauty has once reigned, where life had been led, and simply became unattended.

If I could I would drive around America documenting these abandoned places. A car, camera, film, and maybe a friend or two, and we would capture these places. Our only objective is that we came back from the adventure with stories learned and more to tell. It would be our own photo album of the lonely buildings that still stand.

With finding out my dorm is being torn down in the summer, I have been pretty...Confused by the whole thing, or really by my feelings toward the tearing down. I walk the halls now, knowing that this is the last time anyone will ever do so. That a building is not only being torn down, but along with it goes it's history that holds longer then my near 20 years.

I guess why I am so bothered with this whole thing is because it brings up deep rooted fear of my abandonment issues. Not that I've ever been abandoned, I just fear it. Like one day everyone is going to pick up and realize that there is someone better than I, and then I will be left all alone. Trust me I know it's illogical,even as I write it I'm like "that doesn't make sense" but sometimes you just cant shake those things.

When I think of abandonment I see it as a sign that someone has given up on you. Just like those abandoned buildings that are just lying there for someone to take a chance on it. I'd hate think that someone had lost all faith in me, that they just let me wilt and crumble, instead of looking at the foundation and seeing how much potential I had, if only they looked hard enough.

I guess I feel so bad about the building being torn down, because sometimes I feel like that. I mean I feel like those building who have just been unattended for a while. The ones the children gawk at, and make absurd stories about, forgetting the history that lies behind the shattered glass.

I don't like things being torn down, discarded, thrown away, it only says to me that you have no hope that it can ever be made better. And maybe it's because I like trying to see the beauty in everything, because of my want for people to see the beauty in me that I walk the halls a little sadder now. That I am now running my hands along all the little cracks in the walls, that I can't help but want to learn about all the little pieces, to give me a greater picture of this place that is condemned to be torn down.

I mean sure there are roaches, sure it is possibly the ugliest building on campus, and the heat is on extremely too high at night, but it's foundation is strong. I see something beautiful in that it has stood this long, and that so many people stories have lived in this building.

I hate for someone to lose all hope in me, I like to think that my was foundation was strong, or at least getting stronger. And I realize how parallel me and this building are. Why I am having difficulties coping with it's date with a bulldozer.

Maybe it's why I like abandoned buildings so much, because if someone just gave it chance,instead of giving up on it they would be surprised by the beauty it possesses underneath. If they only looked hard enough. If only they had given it a chance.

Heathen

I haven't(or maybe I have) mentioned that for the past three weeks I have been reading the gospels.

Trust me it isn't because I want to, but for some reason our English professor feels that European Lit, can include material that has nothing(as far as I know) to do with European writers and their works.

In his mind, he thought starting off the new semester with reading the gospels would be a grand old time. YEAH RIGHT!

I have been struggling to read a hundred odd pages of the same story. I have fallen asleep many times with the book by my side, and then waking up to realizing that I have like 10 more pages(small print) to go. BLAH.

It's not even that I don't want to read it. I have long sense evolved from my angry "I'm not going to church girl" routine, sure I'm not religious, but I admire ,to an extent, that people have a religion, that the feel it helps them get through life a little easier. I on the other hand believe that people will generally make each other happy or miserable, but it's easier to get through life with the faith you have in humanity. Which is probably why I'm so unhappy...But whatever, I believe that everyone will eventually meet the people, family, friends, hot boyfriend( =) ) who will enrich their life, and that from there you will learn truly what happiness is, after you find what it is for yourself.

Of course trying to explain that concept, to people who have increasingly become religious in recent years is pretty hard, and most times I feel like an outsider. As I do in my English discussion class. I am so happy that we are finished with the gospels because I know nothing about the bible, I didn't even know there was like a difference between the new and old testament.

So anyway, everyone in my discussion class, seems to know the bible like the back of their hand. I mean most of them came in with their own bible, while I bought the one the teacher photocopied and put in a folder. They are throwing out names, and versus like it has been beat into their heads, and I just sit there, in la la land, wishing I was somewhere else.

It doesn't help when you have the resident bible guru named David in your class. The dude is like the Messiah. I mean for real. He walks in as if he is gliding on air, takes his seat in the corner, and talks really philosophical. And not in a pompous way. He is cute, and kind of scruffy looking with his kind of unshaven face, and dresses like he just climbed a mountain or something. He's kind of magnetic, cause he looks so unassuming, and them "BAM!!!" he starts shooting versus like a preacher.

So when we had to join groups today to discuss certain topics the TA assigned I clearly wanted to be in his group, and I even sat next to him. Right off the back I tell them I know nothing about the new, old, kind of new, kind of old bible, and that I would feel comfortable writing down what they came up with(cause we needed a writer) but another girl offered first, and I instantly felt like the heathen of the group, as soon as David pulled out his Bible with post-it notes.

I had nothing really to say, I mean sure I can talk about life, death, yadda yadda yadda, but get me talking about religion, and you have just shoved me in a corner, and flashed a big stage light on me.

Sometimes I do feel like people perceive my lack of faith as me being some...Well a heathen. Yesterday on the phone with my mother I laughed at the stupidity of high school students signing some oath vowing to not have sex until they were married.(teenager=hormones=sex) what's even weirder is that there was a recent story of fathers giving their daughters the chaste ring to wear, like what the hell is that all about, I don't even want my father mentioning sex yet along handing me a ring, almost vowing to him that I wont have sex. GROSS and WEIRD.

My mother did not think this was so funny, and then questioned me on why I thought it was stupid to wait until marriage. When Marie and I went to the bookstore downtown one weekend there was this old guy yelling that we were all going to hell for not following the will of god, and that we needed to read the bible. So I whispered something like " I wish he would have told me this early before the 20 dollar hooker and crack cocaine I smoked last night. Would have done me a whole lot of good". The man in front of me did not think it was so funny though... I thought it was amusing.

I mean I think I'm a good person, sure sometimes I'm sarcastic(ex:making reference to hookers and crack), and I do curse, but thats the extent of my "badness"

I don't feel like faith dictates what type of person you are going to be. And I don't think any one is less or more, because of what they do or do not believe. Most of my ideas were overridden by David though(we had the relate the NT to Plato and I made a comment that the father represents the spirit, as women represents the flesh and that fatherhood is discredited because in the story the ultimate father is god.), who kept on relating stuff to the direct passages again, and most of the follower-I mean people in our group, went by his stuff, and discarded my voice in the corner.

I have to learn how to speak up more, I'm terribly frightened of saying something stupid, but I'm starting to learn that it is better than letting someone perceive you as an idiot. Not saying that he did, but I mean..I'm so frightened of my voice sometimes, that I forget how important it is just to be heard.

Cause it's important to let people see that the way you live life, is okay for you, and the way they live is okay for them. We all have the right. So I may be a heathen, but I live under my rules, the one's I think will make me eventually make me happy. So it doesn't concur with the accepted law, but a girl said in class "it was common sense to follow the bibles laws" and I thought to myself "it's common sense to be a good person" to live for what makes you happy. Cause even though, most days I think life sucks, I live because I know it will get better, that eventually the course will get easier, or at least remain at a constant track that I can function on cruise control.

So I have to prepare to say some in depth crap about Romeo and Juliet next week and blow them all of the water, show them what this heathen has to save. ROUND 2 of Romeo and Juliet. BLAH

We have to sign up for room assignments for next semester, and I assumed I was just going to stay in this dorm. It's close to everything, I have my own space, and I actually kind of like it, I have my own patio. We don't have to sign up for rooms until february,but I wrote the lady in charge to ask her how to submit an application for the same room. To my shock and surprise, this dorm is being TORN DOWN!!!!

Yeah.

Shot to the heart. So now I have to wait until Feb to see what dorms are offering single rooms, because there is no way I am going through another roommate problem. Big head still gives me the evil eye when I pass her on the street. I'm not going through that again. Getting an apartment is always an option, but that would requiring finding a job that doesn't have me burning myself on a hot grill, and then sticking my hands in the cold onion bowl for relief.

Well see what happens. I get to tutor kay for Bio 101(she asked me), I feel all smart now and have to prepare the notes we will be going over.

I'll try not to do anything heathen worthy. But I can't promise anything.

Kiss Me You Fool !

[Donnie tries to kiss Gretchen and she pulls away] Donnie: Well I-I, sorry I... Gretchen: Donnie wait... Donnie: I like you a lot... Gretchen: I just want it to be... At a time when... It... Donnie: When what? Gretchen: When it reminds me just... Donnie: When it reminds you of how beautiful the world can be? Gretchen: Yeah... [turns her head] Gretchen: and right now there's some fat guy over there staring at us.

Sometimes I get frustrated when Kay talks about her boy problems.

Don't get me wrong, it's nothing on her part that gets me frustrated. I liked sitting at the restaurant the other day, sitting in the booth,ordering food, and then having awesome conversation about life and stuff.

Lately her life has been filled with her wanting to continue a relationship with a boy she has fallen in love with, and her knowing that it wouldn't work out. Her and Hot ex-husband don't really have any chance of getting back together. I mean he's at the house the majority of the time to be with the kids, but that's pretty much the extent of that. While she was separated from him she started to see this guy named Kevin. In her opinion he's great and wonderful, and everything she has ever wanted...Problem is he's late all the time, and irresponsible.

When I say late, I mean like 3 hours. He was too late to take her to a play on her birthday, he barely shows up on dates, and things like that. I can't stand that. I mean don't be late....5 minutes I understand, 10 minutes I'm a little pissed, but 3 hours that's not even cool. So they broke up, and ever since then they have talked on and off, and she still says that she loves him. But asked me what she should do.

I think it's extremely weird when people ask me for advice about relationships. Like the answers I tell them, I am totally just pulling out of the air. As I'm giving my Doctor Phil advice all I can think is "I've never had boy problems, I hope what I'm telling her makes sense".

My DR. Phil advice: Your word is bond, it's the only thing we have, so for someone to completely break a date, or not be there when you need him, especially when he says he will, shows how weak his character is. In relationships we are suppose to be there for one another, and him showing up late shows that in some part of his life, you do not matter.
KAY: But I love him, he makes me feel happy.
DR. Phil: But there are going to be moments in your life in which you are going to want him by your side, if you win an award, anniversaries, the important stuff. Because showing up, shows that you are a pivotal part of his life, that you matter, just as he matters to you
Kay: what should I do
Dr. Phil: Listen, I'm not advising you to get back together with him, that's your choice but you have to realize that you accepting him back, is accepting that there are just going to be some things he's going to miss out on, and you have to see if you want that in your life. Cause I'd want someone to be there during the important stuff wouldn't you...[and then I eat my fries and start humming. I have to stop that]

I don't even know where I pulled that out of.Sometimes I feel like I have lived a million past lives, each one giving me some kind of insight that allows me to just say things I have no idea what I am talking about. I been called "wise" and "old soul" for as long as I can remember. Adults are always like "you look so young, and then you open your mouth and your an old soul". Which I don't mind. But being so use to talking about adult situations, I'm kind of oblivious on how to be young.

My English professor last year said that I am wise beyond my years, but because I'm only 19 I haven't yet acquired how to express such big concepts. Like a baby who is asking for food, but they can't say "I'm hungry" yet, so they point, or grunt, or grasp out for the thing that they want, hoping their parent will understand. Well that's how I am, or at least how I come across.

But being so use to dealing with or analyzing/listening to adult problems at such a young age, it's kind of frustrating in listening to problems I have never had,and for my almost unrealistic expectations about them.

Case in point: MY FIRST KISS.

Now I haven't in the last day, went out, found a boy, and shared an awkward kiss with him. But dammit my first kiss is way overdue.

Yes I am 19 and have never really kissed before. And no I have no aspirations to be like Drew Barrymore in "Never Been Kissed". My first kiss kiss was with Jason when I was like 10, and that was over a game of house. We had assigned each other to be the mother and father, and then we went to playground, and pressed each others mouth together, until we heard my brother yelling for me 5 minutes later.

But that's about it.

I even avoided a kiss during a game of Spin-the-Bottle, where the whole point is to kiss and be kissed. When the bottle landed on me, I chickened out at the last moment, saying I couldn't kiss Andrew(I think that was his name) because I didn't know him, and didn't like him like that. I expected my kiss to be magical and not over a stupid game of Spin-the-Bottle with 12 other peering 13 year old eyes.

But yesterday as I was partnered up with a boy in my Spanish class who looked like he had stitches on his lips, I couldn't help but stare. And his chapped lips reminded me that I had never been kissed. Like the lightbulb went off somewhere and I was like "hey, what the hell is that all about"

Sure I had all the possibilities of being kissed. The boys who have shown and interest and I had an interest on them, but there was always the "no that can't happen"in the back of my mind and these almost kisses have all been in fairly good locations. The museum, a recital, a staircase, and yet nothing. NADA. Beckett 0 vs. World +12 billion.

So sitting there the other day, spewing out my Dr. Phil advice I was also kind of thinking "give you advice on men, I've barely even kissed a boy" , and then staring a chapped lips I was like "my lips are way softer ,yet I bet you've kissed plenty of people."

I don't get it.

And because of this delayed smooch fest, I have unrealistic expectations about it. Trust me I don't expect fireworks or some crap like that, but if the theme of this year is "magical" than that's what I expect.

In High school I had a crush on a boy named Jared( all these crushes, I can't keep count). Don't worry, he was an actually boy I talked to, and who kind of knew I liked him, since he kind of liked me. We talked on a regular basis. During school, waiting for the bus, on the bus, and I assumed gave kind of hints that we liked each other. But then he failed the 9th grade(he was such a sweet kid though, though spent his 9th grade year, doing everything but studying) after that I didn't see him as much, I was moved to honor classes(and for some reason they have us blocked off as if we are radioactive or something. But we still tried to talk on the bus when we had the chance. I usually sat in the front, him way in the back.

But one day, it was a crowded ride home and I sat in the middle. No one apparently got on the bus who usually got off at my stop, and since we were the last two stops on the route, we were also the last two people on the bus that day also. He moved into my seat, after everyone had left. The bus driver had a nickname for me, since I always sat up front near him and made small chatter, he called me "angel" and when Jared moved in my seat he kind of checked to make sure I wasn't being bothered, but I smiled at him, and he resumed driving the bus.

We were sitting pretty low in the seat, so the bus driver couldn't see us talking(scandalous , I know). We were face to face, whispering to each other. "hey how are you?" "I'm doing good, you?" "Classes are okay, teachers don't seem too bad, you?". Things like that. His head was resting against the seat, as mine was too. I mean we were inches from making some kind of contact. He looked so cute asking me stupid questions and whispering, and all I could think was "kiss me you fool" as we just stared each other in the face, I'm biting my lip to draw attention(very persistent), and knowing that fate was giving us a very good opportunity here to take what it was giving us. To grab it, and go with what was happening. It's one of those moments when you feel what is going to happen in the pit of your stomach,and you do everything to not screw it up.

BUT NOTHING.

The bus stopped at my neighborhood, and we were pulled out of the moment like that. I was so embarrassed that I said goodbye quickly and ran off the bus. And then sulked all day.

Well that's how it was today, as I pouted my mouth, and cursed the people who were holding hands, and snuggling on a cold day as today. I remember writing about how I was walking down the street and felt as if my hand was missing it's pair, well that is how I felt today. So I pouted, and then bought skittles.

I mean it would be easier if there was some reason why this moment hasn't happened. If I was the hunchback of Notre dame, had a third eye, or clearly if I had stitches on my mouth which left me horribly disfigured. Not the case.

So along with the sulking I have been listening to THE POLICE's "Every little thing she does is magic", and hope that my first kiss isn't when I'm like 22. But that it will magical and with someone that I like, and who likes me back, and preferably in the rain(I don't know, I think the rain is beautiful) or at least that "every little thing she does is magic" is playing in the background.

Don't think I won't stop, and play The Police's song beforehand. Cause I will. I don't care where we are, I will be like "can you hold that thought for one second I have to get a stereo, a police CD..."

I mean 19 years of no smooch, I expect a Police song playing in the background. I deserve a police song playing in the background.

Today was just one of those days when I needed to be reminded of how beautiful the world is.

Instead I was handed a pamphlet by some idiot running up and down the street( as I was pouting), that said "DON'T WATCH PORN".Some new college campaign.

I swear.

"So You're Dot!"

I'm a dreamer...by nature.

In my mind I embellish events before they happen, which means most of the time I am disappointed by most situations, because they don't match what I had dreamt up in my mind.

It doesn't help when you've spent the greater part of your childhood acting your fantasies. I was the girl at the school yard, who wanted to play tag with a dramatic twist. Who thought vampires were real, prince charming was Jonathan Taylor Thomas(shame), and who dreamed of going to Australia, so I pretended Australia was our backyard. I of course brought along most of my friends for the imaginative journey, which were fun times filled by what we hoped would happen, but you soon learn that distinguishing between real and what you want to be real, are TWO different thing.

But last night, I was generally pleased!!!

Last night I went to the movie!!!!

I was so excited, I couldn't sit still. I'm still kind of excited about having had gone to a club (and boy) I have been avoiding last semester. It was a good thing Kay offered to go with me, cause I see I couldn't have done it on my own, and by the time 6:30 rolled around it was like a Michael Jackson Thriller video outside. The sky seemed to be red, and a small fog had developed. She was running a little late, and I was worried that we would walk in late, and make the whole thing even more awkward. She came at like 6:50, and by time we found parking it was 7:00.

Walking into the building I was hella nervous. Kay doesn't know I have a crush on him, so I was cracking jokes(re-telling the roach story) to her the whole way down the hallway, as to draw attention away from my buckling knees. The closer we got to the room, the heavier my steps seemed, though my composure was still okay, since Kay didn't seem to notice any nervousness. As we turned the corner, there he sat.

Now in mind, I was expecting him to have some radiant light shining over his head, as he leaned against the wall all cool and gorgeous. He would see us coming down the hall and instantly make eye contact with me. I would feel the chemistry between us, and be as cool as a whistle, witty, charming, coy smile, and then we would sit in the corner talking about movies or something like that, while I continued to brush the hair out of my eye, looking extremely cute and vulnerable. It would be magical and by the end of the night he would offer to walk me back to my dorm, but I would decline seeing that I had come with Kay, but leave saying we'd see each other around.

Not the case exactly.

As we turned the corner he(looking beautiful though) was sitting in a chair that was in the middle of the hall as we approached(there was no radiant light), and in my mind I was like "oh sh**, what do I do now", before we could even say anything to him, we noticed a big sign on the door that said "sorry, but the meeting will now be on the fourth floor." After doing the whole "now we have to walk upstairs" complaint, he said, "are you guys here for the movie club"(his voice is dreamy). I didn't mention that before this we were talking about Kays blood test that she had done that weekend(some kind of thyroid problem) so the conversation went kind of like this

Me: I guess we have to go to the fourth floor now
Art Boy: are you guys here for the movie club
Both of us: Yeah
Art Boy: Yeah I'm sorry about that but we didn't know there was going to be a class in there so now we have to meet on the fourth floor.
Me: it's no problem, thanks....So tell me about that Thyroid problem again.

Not the smoothest transition of conversation change, but I'm new at this.

So we head upstairs and soon after he's up there too. I wasn't as nervous as I thought I would be, I mean with Kay there it seemed like I was just going to see a movie, and not some scary ordeal I had imagined. He didn't really talk to me at first, I mean he kind of stood near us and was kind of directing his comment about "I'm sorry about this but they assured us there was not going to be a class in their when we signed up for the time slot, so now we have to wait until 7:30, to start the movie" to Kay. He seemed frustrated that we now had to wait 30 more minutes, but he remained calm and friendly. I wasn't really even facing him, I was turned to the side facing Kay, so I was kind of pretending like I was listening, when really I was like "don't fall, don't say anything stupid, say SOMETHING!". Then he asked

Art Boy: how did you hear about the club anyway.
[Kay looks at me...and then I speak]
Me: Well I received an email last semester
Art Boy: Yeah I was sending out a emails to a lot last semester
[Kind of crushed that special interest was not his intention in sending me an email]
Me: Just sounded interesting
Art Boy: Well my name is "Art Boy"(his name is just so stupid I have to spare him)
Me: I'm Beckett Hughes

after apologizing again for the inconvenience, Art Boy does this weird smile like he knows something about me.
Art Boy: So you're DOT.
I was confused for a small moment. I was like "did he just say I was Dot." And then I remembered that my facebook profile has a picture of the cartoon character Dot from the Animaniacs.
Me[laughing]: Dot? Oh yeah Dot. That's me. I'm dot
Kay: as soon as I saw that picture I was like "only Beckett would use that picture"
Art Boy: Well it's nice to meet you guys, sorry about the whole waiting thing, but we should get started in 30 minutes. Welcome to the club

And then me and Kay drifted on into our conversations. Art boy sat in the corner with the other 3 MEMBERS who showed up(about 3 other people came after, but it was still a pretty small group of people). In my discussion with kay though, I was very chatty and lively, and laughing, and of course from the corner of my eye, saw him glancing.

Unfortunately that was pretty much the extent of our conversation(hey it's better than a head nod). Thing about movie clubs is that there is no room for talking just watching. He looked extremely beautiful in this black dress shirt, and ruffled hair as he introduced the movie(the Asian movie that inspired Kill bill. LADY SNOWBLOOD). He was very cute as he stood up there, grabbing for words to describe his movie choice, and after me and Kay started laughing he laughed too at his sudden nerves, and sat down in the front.

And then we watched the graphic blood shooting movie, with a rape or two in it(kind of uncomfortable, and grossed out, but it was a good movie)

It was amazing though.The whole night was awesome, I had said more then 2 words to the boy I've been dreaming about, he actually seemed kind of nice. The whole thing was great though, I mean going to the movie club, hanging out with Kay, introducing myself (finally )to art boy, and at the end of the night feeling proud that I had gone through with it, and survived. And finding out that Kay is going to go with me every other Monday, because she kind of liked it too.

(Oh and thank god I didn't walk because by the time we got out, that light fog was now a heavy fog. And the creatures of the night were lurking in the shadows, I'm almost sure of it)

But.

Even though it was truly a good night(great night really), and even though Art Boy was cool and sweet and seriously cute. I don't know, it was like the mysticism of him was gone. It was like finding out Winona Ryder steals, or that Claire Danes takes people's boyfriend, or that Tom Cruise is a big freak. It was finding out that Art Boy is like... Normal. In a sense. Like there is no light radiating over his head, he makes weird faces when in concentration, he has the disheveled hair look down to an art, and when he laughs it's as if he knows an inside joke. And his cell phone ring is stupid.

Trust me these things only enhance his character(and I still like him), but it takes away from the mysticism a little. Takes him down from that pedestal( I kind of may have put him on), and now puts him on the same playing ground.

I expected to walk in, look at him, and have my feelings confirmed. That's how it was with "N", from the first day I saw him I knew that I was totally in "like" with him. I felt it in the pit of my stomach, I said it to the person standing next to me(breathless almost cause I thought he was so beautiful, talking about "N" here), I went away leaving with the feeling that we were meant to meet, and I did everything to get to know him, establish a relationship with him. It was like magic.

So I kind of expected that, to have my feelings hit me in the pit of my stomach. To take my breath away almost, but it wasn't like that, it was like "wow he's really hot, and nice, and goofy, but..."

Though he does know me now, and apparently has been curious about Dot for sometime, to register my name from a photo, I'm happy with where this all could go. Things are progressing. We know each other now, I'll be going to his meetings every other Monday(with Kay by my side), and maybe from there, something will happen. Maybe he will find me charming, maybe I'll find him even more charming. Maybe the feeling in the pit of my stomach will resurface like I want it to, maybe something will come out of all of this. Cause he's a great guy, and I think I'm a great girl, and maybe together we could be great. But I know without him, I will be okay anyway. Cause more than just saying hello to a crush, I put myself out there. Nerves and all.

I survived.

I'm conquering my fears one hard step at a time.

That has to mean something.

It does mean something.

And that's what made the night MAGICAL!!!

Un-Happy Beginning.

For christ sakes does fate have it out for me or something?

Should have known it was going to be a rough start, when i got chased into my room by a roach. A ROACH people. I woke up with a smile, strong in my conviction that i would attend the club tonight. As soon as i opened the door of this truly shitty(and did i mention bug infested) dorm, the beast awaited me. As soon as i spotted him, the bastard started running towards me. So what did i do? Did i step on him, and go on with my day.

NO.

I ran like no one else's business, as this creature came chasing after me. I closed my door, and that's where i remained for the next 40 MINUTES, with a shoe in one hand, trying to get the courage to brave the beast, who had chased me in my room.

THEN.

I get to discussion class for History. Where the overly hyped up TA encourages us to talk and share our opinions. Apparently he wasn't directing that to me, because as soon as i said something about The Agribusiness in the West, he told me i was "talking to much, and that other people needed a chance to speak" WHAT!!!!. I barely talk in class as it is, and Tight Pants, tells me i'm TALKING TOO MUCH. WTF!!!!

THEN.

After nearly falling asleep in English, because the teacher is so boring, i make me way back to my dorm, frightened that the beast is waiting for me to start round two of "chase Beckett down the hall", and a little pissed that Tight Pants told me to "be quiet" in a sense. As i'm crossing the street, the car that was stopped to let people walk cross, decides that i am not worthy of just kindness, and speeds up, coming near inches from ramming into me. And then he has the nerve to HONK, as if it is my fault. WTF

And i was so pumped that i thought i was getting the nerve to stupid Art Boys, stupid club with the rest of the stupid people interested in subtitled movies. But stupid Art boy's club is the other side of campus, on a gloomy day, where there was just two homicides this weekend, bums who harass and follow young women( i was followed back to my dorm last semester, and if a dude hadn't come walking in our direction i don't know what could have happened), and i think a peeping tom or two.

Did i defy fate? Have it no pity on me? I just want to get through a day where i'm not getting almost hit by a car, chased by a roach, pissed off by another TA, and dammit to go to stupid Art boys, stupid club, that is at stupid night, all away on the stupid other side of the campus.

I need a burrito. And to crawl into my bed(as i watch for my new arch nemesis MEAN ROACH), and pretend this day didn't happen. Pretend it was all a dream.

I'll write later, this is just a rant post. Pretend like you didn't see it. It's a picture post or something.

*Postscript* Maybe a start to a interesting if new happy beginning. Katherine( went to the medical convention with, my friend i guess i can say, though considerablly older) just said she would come to the movie club with me tonight(though i now have to go see Tristan & Isolde, but Gavin sings the song for the movie, so i don't mind going). I found out that i have a Pre-Med meeting tonight, which we are both suppose to attend, but because neither of us want to sit in a room for an hour talking about stupid stuff, i "kind" of mentioned the movie club, that i was suppose to be going to. She said that would be more interesting than going to the other meeting, and that she doesn't mind going. YES!!

So ditching is bad

But adventures are fun! (of course i did not mention my "minor" crush on the boy in charge of the club, but whatever)

Hopefully i'll write about what it was like tonight, or after History tomorrow.

Wish me luck.

Behind the Wall

When I was younger...I hid in closets.

It wasn't every closet that I hid in, but it was the hallway closet, next to the bathroom, that I would sit into to just escape somedays.

And by younger, I mean like 12. I get extremely uncomfortable around people who are having an argument. It's just emotionally draining for me to watch people yell and say nasty things to one another out of anger.

I can't say I've ever got angry to the point where I have said something malicious to someone, because I realize that you can never take back what you said. I feel the truth comes out in anger, and maybe the half truths are what we live by. It's at the boiling point of an argument when "you were never good enough" "I am so sick of your shit" or the dreaded "I hate you" that I fear, because once they come out, they can never retracted.

So closets are usually where I go to avoid someone yelling or when I was angry that I fear I would say something I didn't mean. I hid to be invisible. I hid hoping never to be found, I hid hoping they'd think I had run away, and fearing they wouldn't care to look.

My mom dated "the greatest man in the world" after she left my dad. They started dating when I was in Kindergarten and their relationship "ended"(they still talk and stuff) when we moved. He was like the father we had also wanted. He was reliable, he was fun, and he taught us things. But somewhere in the relationship bliss they were having, he decided to, how do I say "get another girlfriend on the side", and when my mom found out, lets just say she wasn't really happy.

This would be the 2nd time I would encounter a huge blowout, and seeing another man walk away from our lives(for the time being, the eventually got back together, and we enjoyed more good years as a make-shift family). My mom was never that mother who had 20 different people my brother had to get to know as her knew boyfriend. There was basically my dad, and then James( or "the greatest man in the world" minus the cheating).

Me and brother, were in our rooms when we heard the yelling. It was basically my mom yelling at him, while he stood there are took her words. We lived in those old New York apartments, where the hallway is long, leading to the BIG LIVING ROOM. There was a sliding wood door, which separated it from my moms room. So she was standing in her room, and he was standing in the living room. It was night time and we were suppose to be sleeping. But from our rooms, at the other end of the hall, we peaked our heads out and watch the commotion. I don't remember what was said, but I remember how crushed he look. I remember my brother staring at me, wondering what was going to happen now, and then I remember us scurrying back into our rooms when he came down the hall to leave. I didn't close the door fast enough though, and before he left we made eye contact. I don't think that look will ever escape my mind.

It was of a man devastated and knowing that he was losing the only thing that meant the most to him. It was also the first night I sat in the closet. The first night of my hiding, of trying to figure out was had gone on, the first night I prevented the tears from falling, and may be the first time that I hoped no one would look for me.

A couple of nights ago we had a hall meeting. It was like 10 o'clock when I got the knock on my door to venture out into the hallway for another bonding attempt with the girls on the floor.

Most of us never talk to each other. I said one word to my neighbor(not the one Art boy is "seeing"), and the only time I see the rest of them is in the bathroom or on my way out. There is no hall unity, at least not from my end, there are the quiet ones, me, neighbor, cello girl, music girl, dj girl, and desk girl. And then there are the rest of them. Loud, partiers, one girls boyfriend basically lives on the hall, and the new girl from Spain.

We had to introduce ourselves to the new girls, and Art Girl was there. She introduced herself but oddly said "I just broke up with my boyfriend of 14 months, be happy for me" we were all kind of confused because when we introduced ourselves in the beginning of the year she had just mentioned she had broken up with her boyfriend

RA: Didn't you already break up with him
Art Girl: yeah but then I got back with him it's over for real this time.
Girls:[Laughing] Yeah right.
Art Girl: Don't worry I have a new boy toy anyway.

I didn't roll my eyes, I just laughed like the rest of them. Art Boy is now someone's' boy toy, who is totally rebound material for this girl to use. I feel sorry for him. I think she was wrong is using him. I disliked her from that moment. But then I heard the yelling.

As I said we are next "room" neighbors, and these walls are pretty thin. We can all hear the arguments she has with there "ex" boyfriend on the phone. (she puts him on speaker phone for some reason). I heard the screaming matches before, but they are becoming more hostile and increasingly loud, and unfortunately at night, moments before I drift off to la la land, I hear them.

And I realized how sad she really is. The moments when her friend isn't around, when she is standing by herself, how completely sad her eyes appear. I can hear it in her voice behind the walls at night, when her boyfriend is screaming at her as if it is his life mission to make her feel like crap. And I feel like the 10 year old me, pressing my ear against the wall wondering what is going on, and what will happen. And moments before I close my eyes, I'm wishing there was a big enough closet(the closets here are dirty and scary, I feel as I close myself in them I will never be able to get out) that I can escape into. So that I can be invisible and immune to their anger.

They had an explosive one the other night, and I couldn't go to sleep. I tried to cover my ears, and pretend as if it wasn't happening. I figured if someone was saying the things they said to each other, I rather be invisible, and not have to listen to people tear each other down.

And I was also kind of relieved. That though some days I am sad, I accept it. I know it isn't hidden behind anything. I know that I don't walk around trying to pretend everything is okay. That I don't lie to myself in that regard. And that I'm glad my sadness isn't hidden in my eyes, doesn't walk around with me, while I hope no one sees it, because that's the sadness that is dangerous. The sadness we hide in ourselves, the ones we aren't so good at hiding from the world.

So Art boy isn't "seeing" Art girl. Maybe they are close friends that she is using for comfort. I saw him walking in this amazingly stupid hat the other day, and I felt sad, that I was letting him slip away. That I'm not fighting to start a relationship with him( i mean not even a budding friendship, if anything else). Just another reminder that everything at the tip of my finger tip, I just have to do a little reaching to get it, or let it slip through my hands. The beginning of the movie club thing,starts this Monday. And I don't even want to say "I'm going to go this time" only to later not go. But I will say that I have some thinking to do, this is my Starting over year after all, and I have to put some of my resolutions into action.

But I must admit, I'm a little scared.

Okay , very scared.

Following Directions....

I've never been one to follow the directions.

Sure I drew inside the lines of coloring books, and was truly neat when it came to putting things back in there place, but ask me to read the directions off of something, and I won't do it.

I don't know what it is, I mean I rather just fix it myself, without even glancing at the packet of directions that will usually stay in the little plastic wrap. I put together my desk without the directions. Sure it leans to one side, and a drawer is missing but I was just happy I got the thing together(though don't ask me to move the thing, because it will all come crashing down).

With the completion of my 2nd week of the semester and finally getting back into the groove of things, I'm noticing how much this semester feels like the beginning of my "freshman" year. Mike isn't in any of my classes,I'm unsure about the work load of my classes, and I seem to just be walking around having no idea where I should go, and generally I feel new and fresh to the whole thing. Which is weird, because I'm not new and fresh to this.

I seem to have the blueprint of how to make this semester a good one. To meet new people, and get over some of my anxieties, and step up into this college world which is kind of waiting to embrace me. And yet, reverting back to my "not wanting to look at the directions" theme, I'm not really make that step to doing that. It's a little frustrating, like "why can't I do that". Why can't I just talk to people. Somewhere I learned that silence was "good", but damn it seems to be biting me in the ass, because I seem to just fade in the background. I seem to shy away and revert to drawing in my notebook rather than talking to the person sitting next to me.

Even though my mom was wrong in yelling at me in public, I do kind of understand her view of my silence. Silence to me are like closed doors, locked up drawers...They are just signs of secrets, of things we rather not let the world see. I feel as if I have my lips clasp tight, but it is me who has bound them, and I'm not really sure how to free my voice. Like that is why my speech teacher, mom, brother, handful of friends, and even why I get mad at myself for. Because I have a voice that I don't use, I have locked myself in a silence that prevents me from connecting to people.

I'm not doing a good job of overcoming that yet. I don't even know where to begin, to try and find the fear or whatever it is that prevents me from using my voice.

I will have to address this in a later post, when I can pinpoint what it is.

Until then...

A boy wants to meet me(not the boy that I want *sigh*,but a boy).

Okay it's not Coffee boy(who knows what the happened to him, chickened out I suppose. I'm starting to think I frighten boys. I use to think I had the "I'm too rough and broken" don't mess with me vibe, but after all the "virgin Mary" looks I'm been getting, I think the sign is rather "I'm too fragile, keep distance". )

Of course it's one of Marie's friend, Lee, who apparently thinks I'm some crazy broad. The thing with Marie is that she exaggerates stories. A simple story about going to the store, instantly becomes me doing something "funny". Like I said, I'm only funny when I am nervous. People like sarcasm, apparently I have a lot of it. You say a curse word or two out of frustration and they are like "who's the girl" "I want to hang out with her". I may have mentioned in an earlier entry about his interest to meet me. Apparently he keeps having things to do over the weekend in anticipation that I will be there. WTF.

Like seeing Brokeback Mountain this weekend. That's not gonna happen. After being put on the phone with him for an awkward 5 minutes he asked when I was going to be home for a weekend,I was praying that he would hand the phone back, only after agreeing to hang out with them the day before I go to NYC for a week( I can't wait to go home). What did I get myself into? I feel like I would be a big disappointment in person. Like "why would you want to meet me? Surely I'm not that interesting."

In the 10th grade I was asked out by a 9th grader who worked with me in the library. Apparently we were flirting unbeknownst to me. Unlike the girls my age, I wouldn't know flirting if it smacked me in the face, which it did when I received a note that said "I think you are cool. Do you want the hook up(reason #98 why I turned him down. H-o-o-k, U-p)? There wasn't a box to check or anything, at least I don't think so. I ran to Marie to show her the note, she laughed and laughed. It was a definent no, but I was trying to find a way to turn him down gently, before I could though Marie sees him out of the corner of her evil eye, and yells "Oh, and she said NO!". He never talked to me again, and of course I felt horrible because of what had taken place.

If he had talked to I would have told him no gently, and then asked what it was that made him want to go out with me(maybe I woud ask him that before saying no). I'm not person I'm one of those needy people who are like "do you like me, TELL ME WHY!!!!" but I'd asked just because I really wanted to know, like if maybe he told me what it was in me he liked, I wouldn't shun it so much. I too would grow to like it. But I never got that chance.

So I'm not really looking forward to meeting this lee character. Because I hope he doesn't have this expectation that I am some table dancing, pole slinding, club hopping groupie. Cause that isn't the case buddy. Not at all.

I had a disturbing dream last night. The dreams that freak me out aren't the ones where I am flying, or something else absurd, but they are the ones that are just so normal. So mundane, that the emotions still remain with you throughout the day. I mean this one wasn't mundane, mundane, but it was so real, I woke up feeling like it had just happened. Can all the emotions from a dream carry into your waking life. If so, I was feeling a little embarrassed today.

I'm too embarrassed to go into details. Well I mean it wasn't one of "those" dreams. It was the aftermath of one of "those" dreams that freaked me out. The dream started with me literally waking up, in a room I had never seen before. It was beige, had a bed located in the corner of the room with a dark comforter, (black or brown maybe) . There was a window in the middle, and a dresser on the other side. There wasn't posters on the wall, which I thought was weird(like doesn't everyone have posters, pictures or something). So when I got out of the bed, kind of just staring around, some dude(who looked really familiar, though not so familar that i was like "hey what he hell are you doing here) walked in. I wasn't frightened of him, but I was uncertain of my being there. Like this wasn't my home, it was his space he had invited me into.

After the initial awkwardness of standing there in my pj's, and him staring at me as if to ask me a question. He walked towards me and brushed his hands against my face. I didn't pull away, just stood there like an idiot, while he said "you have really soft skin", he almost whispered it. IF he wasn't so attractive I probably would have been freaked, but for some reason I just stood there. WEIRD. What was even weirder, which is the part I'm embarrassed about it is that for the next, what seemed like 15 minutes he...Brushed him face and hand against face, neck and shoulder. I mean..It's so weird and I can't stop laughing but... It was if my skin was a magnet, and it's softness perplexed him. After that whole weirdness, I sat against the door, as he sat across from me. And I told him that I was "afraid of what was happening between us", and then he told me "not to worry".

WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT ABOUT?

So waking up I was like "Aww, he rubbed his face against mine and said my skin was soft", by mid afternoon I was like "I'm scuzzy whore, and let him rub his face against mine". What made it even worse is that I saw Justin(kid who sang Jimmy Buffet songs to me in Bio). He kept calling my name, but I was in la la land trying to interpret my dream, and not feel so lovely and dirty at the same time. Then he literally touched my shoulder(justin) and I was frightened and wanted to yell "I"M NOT A SCUZZY WHORE IT WAS A JUST A DREAM ABOUT TWO GROWN ADULTS. GROWN ADULTS!!!!", but instead I made small chit chat and ran off to continue with my "embarrassed WTF" face.

Maybe that's why the Lee wants to meet me, maybe Marie has been telling him about my straight up neurotic behaior in public that makes me spontaneous and lively, due to dreams about people I have never met before.

So I'm going to eat burrito, watch dateline later on tonight, and hope that I dream of puppies and kittens or something. I can't take anymore One night standish rendezvous with boys I have never met, which probably resulted from table dancing, pole sliding, and club hopping things groupies do.

Not about Love

"Dear Beckett,
I'm very sorry for what I did. I want to be friends with you a lot!! I miss talking to you in line at lunch, and in home room. Please don't hold a grudge against me. Friends don't do that =) ! Just ignore John. I'm very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very,very, very, very, very, very, very, very SORRY !!!
PLEASE FORGIVE ME !!!
*Huge smiley face*
* Enclosed is your late birthday present(which was a ring from Claires). SORRY!!!
Sincerely Aric"

This was the note I received in the 8th grade from my friend at the time Aric. I was mad at him because he had forgot my birthday and then made a stupid joke about forgetting it later on that day when I had reminded him.

This is mainly how most of my relationships with men are. Me expecting them to remember the small things, and then getting mad at them for forgetting them ... and then I ignore them.

Case in point:

When I was younger, my best friend was a boy named Chino(forgive his parents now, will make it easier to like him. he has to live with the name).

I don't know how we meet. But what I do know is that he was my first boy "that I pushed around" friend. From what I remember( and from what I have been told repeatedly by immediate family members and people who lived in the neighborhood) we were joined at the hip. He was the Thomas Jay to my Veda (in retrospect if you watch MY GIRL, it is seriously like watching a page out of my childhood. I was such a Veda).

I totally pushed him around, we made up this outrageous story that we were really adopted and had escape from these bad men who had kidnapped us, and Chino miraculously saved my life, by karate kicking the hell out of one of those kidnappers. He was an endearing friend. His infatuation for me was sometimes overwhelming, but he let me be crazy and imaginative. I was probably mad at him every other day.

Early in the morning he would come to my house( we lived across the street from one another), knock on the door, and then wait on the steps until I came out. I was so mean to him, my mom said I would open the door, tell him I didn't want to play anymore and storm back into the house. My mom would then come upstairs and tell me to go out there and stop torturing the poor kid. I usually came out to see his crying face, which brightened up once I said I was sorry and that I would play with him.

It's funny cause when are a kid, you always talk about what you plan to do in context to when you get older. Older to us was 13, and we planned to go to England. He always only concerned himself with what I wanted to do. We spent the better part of our days at the park daydreaming. I daydreamed of exotic adventures, he daydreamed about the future Mrs. Chino, which was not going to happen. We were best friends though. From the time we woke up, to the time the street lights came on, we spent endless hours wondering how our past lives had been, and how we had found each other in this one( I was a pretty bright kid,questioning everything, and also prank calling, but that was another time my friends).

I thought about him the other day. He moved away when I was 7, but ever so often especially when going back to old neighborhood, I can't help but sit in the same spot I did as a child, and think of what had become of him. If he was still a love sick boy I remember.

Relationships in general always get me thinking, because I am not always so sure of what I want from them. In my family, I grew up without a father, I mean he was a distant role rather than a prevalent one. So I grew up, always kind of on guard that at any moment people could leave, but that if you don't get too attached than it won't matter as much when the do.

I was/am a girl who has to warm up to people. I am like those shelter cats who have been through a rough time out on the streets. Once you try to pet them they sprint in the other direction, but thats only considering if you can spot them for long periods of time. Usually they are just a glimpse out of the corner of your eye, that sometimes is mistaken for a shadow. Those in my opinion are the most amazing cats, they are beautiful, hurt, guarded, but strong. They are the ones that survive, though they are ones that are always alone.

In trying to figure out what I want from relationships I think back a lot on who I am as a person, and my reasons for getting mad at the various boys who have come my way. In thinking back it is also the same reason...In me being fully devoted as a friend, sister, daughter, and hopefully one of these days someone's girlfriend, I expect the same thing back. As a shelter cat when you warm up to someone, let them touch your head, sit down next to them, and offer your paw as friendship, you take pride in being totally devoted as that friend. For me, I remember the small details. If you are sad, I'll do something embarrassing to make you laugh, or I'll just sit with you, we don't even have to say anything, we can sit and when you are ready to talk, you know that I right there beside you ready for you to do so.

In doing that I am extremely needy of those I cherish. I want them to remember the small things, that I don't like cheese on my Hamburgers, that my favorite color is green, and I like driving for hours, destination doesn't matter. Maybe that's what I want from a boy.

In thinking about the whole Art Boy situation, I realized that I don't know much about him. I mean sure he's extremely hot(extremely), sure he is a hockey player(which makes him a little more hot), and sure he writes and has a movie club, and curly hair, and nice eyes, tall, dreamy sort of ...Okay I'm rambling. And though it sucks majorly that he may be going out with my extremely attractive neighbor, who is wild and crazy, and tall and really awkwardly skinny, I don't know him. And he doesn't know me. He's doesn't know all the small things. And that's what I want from a relationship.

Someone who generally takes an interest in me. Sure he doesn't have to be a leech who doesn't give me a moment to breathe, but damnit he takes interest in the things that matter to me. To make me feel special, and that I matter, and that I exist in his world. It's not only what I want, it's what I need from that kind of relationship. To feel important, to feel loved, to feel like even when I feel displaced from the world, I can turn to him and feel whole again. Feel like I can conquer the world, with my supporter and best friend by my side.

Sure there will be rough days. I can be extremely moody, contemplative, indecisive, and independent. But I'm thoughtful, and I'm funny, and sure I am exhausting at times(cause I'm curious about everything, and will ask questions till I get an answer), but I'm a good card player, and don't mind running in the rain, traveling to far off places, and am full of surprises.

So Art Boy may have an Art Girl(who really is a criminal law major, but writes poetry. BLAH),but Art Boy doesn't know me. He doesn't know the small things. Sure we have the same interest in bands and music. Sure we see each other all the time and do the whole "avert eyes" thing, but there has to be more. He has to know when my birthday is(march 1st, coming soon!), and that I only eat cheese pizza(and will be willing to eat the pepperoni when the guy at the pizza place messes up the order. How many times that has happened to me is just beyond talking about.), that I will stop the car when seeing a stray dog to pet it( I almost got my hand bitten this weekend because of that. Benji,I named him pre bark, was not friendly), and that even though I'm a rock chick, take me to the orchestra and I will be hooked for life.

that's the life of a stray cat(just like George from Dead Like Me). Sure I'm hard to get to know, at first I'll run and hide but there's more to me than just glimpse you catch from the corner of your eye. Walking down the street today I felt empowered(and fate must hate me, because of course who comes strolling down the street, but Art boy himself, who I did not smile at), like somewhere out there, there will be a dude who takes full interest in me. That is brave enough to say "hi", to let me know that he likes me, that doesn't leave the stray waiting to be invited in. Until then, I will do as most of us do, survive. Sure life is about relationships, and what we garner from them, but until then, until I'm ready for all that comes with being in a relationship, or crushing on a boy who has gotten himself into one , I will continue on surviving.

Which makes the stray beautiful. Because the stray doesn't give up fully on life's shitty moments and disappointments. She just continues on, knowing one day she'll find her way, or at least it will find her.

I had to put up another pic of Gavin. Because well, he makes me smile(thanks K once again for posting the pic of him on your blog). I won't post any more pics of him I promise(maybe)

Non-Buyer Buyers Remorse

I blame King Kong for this whole shitty weekend

OKay maybe i shouldn't blame it on King Kong. I mean he was just a 25 foot Ape who fell in love with Naomi Watts. He needs love too. Sure the "relationship" between Kong and Naomi was a little weird at times, but dammit he loved her, and she oddly enough loved him. Seeing Naomi manhandeled by an ape was pretty priceless though, even more priceless than seeing her pick the ape over Adrien Brody. Poor Adrien. I still love you, and your huge noise.

Lets face it, i'm a poor college student. I mean broke. I rarely have dinero i can spend freely. And when i do have it, i feel bad for spending it. My mom says that i am cheap. But it's not that. I'm afraid of not having money, of struggling like she does. So i keep it all. Every little bill that i have i eventually won't spend. Which is why i only treat myself to CD's and books.

This whole weekend was suppose to be the weekend of me spending some money. I had decided pretty much on Friday that maybe me getting a iPod wouldn't be the wisest investment on this much money. 300 for little ol' me is astronomical. i was opting for the 281.00 (thanks to Deltron) which was way sweeter than forking over 300 bucks. But somewhere along the line, i think my mom wanted to "watch" me spend the money,which is why she offered to pick me up this weekend, so we could go to best buy together.

SInce i wasn't ordering it, she said she would get me one for my birthday that is coming up soon, so that i could spend some money on things that i need, but would also by treats. CLOTHES. I'm in a tee and jeans most of the day, but i needed some new rock tees, maybe a pair of pants, shoes(maybe with a little heel) and so much lip gloss, i would be in heaven. I figured i could then treat myself to the Dead LIke ME DVD, i have been asking for since christmas, and a CD. I mean my mom and brother constantly rag on me about my clothes, so the one opprotunity that i have to spend some money so i wouldn't be wearing the same jeans since 9th grade, i was up for it.

My mom somewhere along the way home, kept talking about seeing KING KONG. Like since i was home for the weekend, and we haven't been to the movies for a while, we should go. I didn't want to see a long ass movie about some ape, but i can't so no to my mother. It's just not something i do. We didn't get home till saturday evening, so we were some how suppose to see KING KONG on Sunday, go get food for me to live off for til march, and then go to best buy.

Not what happened.

Movie didn't start till 2. Lasted 3 HOURS AND 15 MINUTES. By the time we got out of the place, shit was closing, we ran to best buy, where i drooled over the iPod i will be waiting for a month to get. I was suppose to get a VCR, because my TV is so old it doens't have the input/output things. So i had to buy a VCR to hook up to the TV and then DVD up to that. BONKERS. Because we were running so late i had to search Best Buy for one. So my mom, said "why don't you buy a new tv instead", as i looked back at the iPod and stared down at the stupid tv i didn't want, i started to frown. I didn't want a new TV, I barely wanted the VCR. I wanted the iPod, i wanted to buy myself a treat, cause i never get anything and once again i was being coerced by my mother to spend my money on something i didn't want. My moms not the kind of person who is like "you decide" she basically berades you on making the "SMART" decision and how "DUMB" it would be to buy something else. I mean only "DUMB" people do that. Yeah.

So standing there she was like the bullet to the gun, "get it, get it, get it, the stores closing, get it, if you put the Dead Like Me DVD back, you can get a new TV, get it, get it. Its the Smart Decision"

So what was i suppose to do, i relunctantly got the stupid televsion (and both the Dead like me DVDs i'm so excited about watching that all day today), and walked out of best buy unhappy. Blah. So thats not even why i am mad at my mom, i'm not that materalistic and worrying about some stupid thing like clothes.

After checking to see if any stores were open for me to get some juice for school( they weren't) my mom notice my sour face. I told her that i didn't feel comfortable spending money on that televison when it should have went to...i don't know....NEW PANTS. She went off. I mean like no else's business.

She was like (times for Caps Lock) WHY DIDN'T YOU SAY SOMETHING IN THE STORE. BECKETT YOU AREN'T A CHILD ANYMORE AND I DON'T FEEL LIKE I SHOULD HAVE TO HOLD YOU HAND ALL THE TIME. I MEAN YOU HAVE A MOUTH DON'T YOU. USE IT. GOD I FEEL LIKE I HAVE LITTLE CHILDREN TO TAKE CARE OFF." This was in public people.

I kept telling her to keep her voice down. That i was just saying i felt uncomfortable about my purchase. After that little blow out, i ignored her for the rest of the night, trip back to school, unpacking my stuff, to subway, and the awkward goodbye.

I mean it was a little harsh i think. A lot harsh. Whats even harsher is that i wanted to be like "i think there could have been a better way for us to handle the whole screaming at me in public thing. I know i'm not a little kid anymore, but i value your criticism and two cents to the point where i put them before my own. I need to stop doing that, but mainly i need you to support me in the decisions or indesicions that i make, and you not for you to dictate them to me. Thats apart of our relationship."

But instead i remained silent, which drives her crazy. I'm still pissed, not as pissed as i was since i am now watching DEAD LIKE ME, but damn...this weekend was bloody awful, and the drive here was freaking horrible. She's trying to make small talk, i'm thinking about how wonderful an iPod would have been at this moment...but such is life. Freaking disappointments beset by disappointment.

Today is MLK, and classes are out. in honor of him, the university has issued a service day, to be a tribute to the man who gave us life for unity. I'm not good with puclic service work, but i do plan to write a letter today in his honor. I was in a club called TEAM (teaching ethnicity to all mankind), so anytime i can honor someone who dedicated there life for others i take great pleasure in doing. So celebrate this day with friends, he worked hard so that we all could.

I wish all the time i had his drive, and voice to speak up like he did. I'm not really good at doing either of those. I think thats what he taught me most of all, that you have to speak up for what you believe in. That your voice is important, because it's the only thing we really have.

Thanks Martin

*Post-script* A wonderful ending , to this truly wonderful day (can't you taste the sarcasm.) Art boy seems to have found himself a nice ART GIRL. Who also happens to be my next door "neighbor"

Someone hand me the ice-cream and remote control right now.

"It's a Leaf People"

My Genetics teacher looks kind of like Jerry Garcia from the grateful dead

Genetics teacher: So I was at home way day, and I saw a potato, so like most people I decided to grab the potato, poke toothpicks in it, and submerge it into water
Class: ?????
Genetics Teacher:[awkwardly laughs] So after a while the potato started sprouting leafs. I mean like little leafs, it was...like....amazing.
Class: ??????
Genetics: Like It's a leaf people, that sprouted from this potato, thats like AMAZING. I mean I was like Amazed, and I don't mean to be getting so excited but A LEAF...from a potato.
Class:????
Genetics: Guess it's not so amazing to you though. What was I talking about again.

Today I almost fell asleep in Psych. I mean my head was so far over the seat, I almost fell out. This semester is looking pretty easy, which is a great opportunity to pull up my GPA. History is the only interesting class. Spanish is kind of crazy. But Psych, Engl, and Genetics, and pretty much sleeper classes, and I struggle to stay awake.

I always had this notion that I was meant to be the smart arty girl. I mean most arty girls are usually the ones who do art, take photography, paint, but I write and I always thought that constituted some arty badge or something. But on the totem poll I think writers are way on the bottom of the list when it comes to those pompous art people who won't talk to you unless you wear tight pants, a indie tee, and unfortunately have an iPod. But still I retained some hope that I would be that girl. Who was fabulously artsy, and had the knowledge to back it up.

I take it back, I don't want to be that girl anymore.

As the drool almost fell from my mouth today, I had a big epiphany, among the 300 or so people in packed lecture room, with no air conditioning, listening to a teacher go on and on again about how shitty of a career psych majors REALLY have(okay she didn't say that, but basically you can be a counselor. Psychiatrist are the real doctors.) I realized I hated this. I mean my classes consists of no challenge for me. I am bombarded with reading and writing and analyzing, but not really experimenting or problem solving, or getting my hands dirty with some lab rat I would be dissecting.

I HATE it. I realized, mid drool, that even though I complain about math, and chemistry and biology, and that they are all the devils, I really like it because it challenges me to solve problems. With chemistry it's about applying formulas mathematically. With Calc it's about graphs and cos/sin, and with Biology it is about concepts and how things work, how we work. And I LOVE that. I love that there is some answer, and if there isn't an answer there are means of experimenting to come up with answers.

I love that it's hard. And that I have to understand it fully to comprehend it as a whole. I love going to lab and applying what I learned in class to what I will do with my own hands. I love it all. In a couple ( and by a couple I mean a lot) I will hopefully be a doctor, and it's something that I great pride in wanting to achieve, but until today I didn't realize how much I wanted it. To be in a field in which I am capable of going into, as long as I put that hard work and dedication that goes along with getting there. If that takes studying until I can't study anymore, going to tutors, getting a study group, then i'll do it.

Because there's nothing more that I want than to be a doctor.

To be the smart geeky, science girl, instead of the smart arty one.

I once talked about needing a balance with my science and art world. But I assumed it was my love of the more creative side of me, that needed tending to. But it's not. It's my love of the Science side, that needs the small nurture of my art side. Art is clearly a extended part of me , writing in a journal, my stories, my screenplay (it's coming along pretty well).But It's the other side that I value more. The logical, the experimental, the formulas and concepts, that someone keep my passion flowing because they challenge me to push myself more than I have before. I've never been one to take it light, I like the pile up of work, I like the deadlines, I like solving problems. I like my science side, and want that to be my main focus. I miss all the course work. I miss talking about geeky subjects in public. I rather have that then anything else.

This all came about in a span of 90 minutes. I was almost pulling my hair out with sitting in Psych I was so bored. And I realized that I needed the challenge cause I don't know what to do with myself otherwise.

So next semester. After all my coursework for the summer, I think i'm returning back to Bio for a major. Psych is way easy, and I am drowning in how bored I am. I'm keeping the classes I have chosen for this semester, because I need to pull up my GPA, but I like being that science girl instead of the Arts and Sciences one.

I was wrong when I said this year was all about...what was it..."putting my hand into the fire" testing the waters, leaving the comfort zone. It's more about CHOICES, which I seem to be making a lot of lately. In my steps of declaring my independence, and finding my individuality, I have in the last week alone been making decisions that will affect my life. I'm not the best decision maker, a game of rock, paper, scissor is my way of making a decision. But part of growing up is being aware of the choices that will inevitably affect your life.

Life is like a Chain reaction, each decision will subsequently be shaped into how our life is lead. And life is surrounded around choices that should make you happy, that allow you to move forward. My first step in that, is letting go of the assumption of who I "want" to be and realize who I "am". Of fully embracing the person I have become, instead of the person I think I should be.

That is what I learned today. While I was rolling my eyes endlessly, during psych. Midway through the professor wanted us to talk to our neighbor and come up with a question that we always thought about in context to how it applies to life and psychology.

I don't know why the hell she wanted us to do that, but I wasn't into it. It's a huge class, i'm sitting next to the Olsen Twins for christ sakes, it's hot, i'm tired, I want to go back to my room, the last thing I want to do is ask "Ashley" and "Mary Kate" next to me what "questions" buggle their mind. So of course the class erupts in a talk fest. I'm just trying to not chew my pencil in half, and keep my eyes open. The Twins( they aren't really twins of course, but girls seem to look alike now a days, ultra blond hair, American Eagle clothing. SCARY), are all "why are boys so stupid" "why do girls cry during movies" "Why does my stomach growl". I was pretty much staring off into oblivion. We were all suppose to work together, but since they knew each other, and I was sitting on the end of the row, I was pretty resigned to catch a sweet nap time.

Then the TA's came down the rows like a cheap Vegas show girls, to make sure we were all getting involved. Thats when Mary Kate or Maybe Ashley was all

"HEY!!! Do you have anything you want to add"

A small frown, a sharp NO comes a long way, and then they turned back into their own conversation wondering "how they had made it to college" I don't know.

I did make up a question though in homage to Mary Kate and Ashley

"Do people like the sound of their own chirpy voices in otherwise awkward conversation to validate their own self worth and existence among a crowd who could care less?"

I figure they will be my first case study.

So I am a science girl, whose arty balance will be in terms of writing in my journal, and stories, but as career, i just wouldn't be good at it.

Maybe my future Stedman(If Oprah can have one, so can I) will be arty. Cute arty boys are always a good balance. He can talk to me about this new song/poem/artwork that he created which was inspired by me, while i can discuss the further development in stem cell research, and my trying times at Med school.

That sounds like a pretty good balance to me.