Dracula Doesn't Rock and Roll

It's Halloween!!!! and I am too excited.

Something about this day of the year makes me the happiest girl in the whole entire world(oh yeah... the whole world). I often wonder when I will have to grow up and accept adulthood. Like big time responsibilities and decisions, but then I get a box full of candy from my mother and for an instant that all fades away and I get to enjoy being young, for however long I want to be.

Yesterday while I was putting up books at boring job, and thinking about Halloween, this image of masks popped in my head:

In true Dead like Me References, the only time the reapers true form were shown was during Halloween which made it very difficult for recently deceased George to walk around the town( would be a little awkward seeing someone you knew "Hey didn't you die last year"). An old myth, perhaps, among reapers said that on Halloween night, while people dress in costume and take on the personas different from their own, reapers have the displeasure of having their pre-reaper self shown. Or at least that's what Myths say.

Thinking about Halloween and the idea of costumes, I kind of wondered what the whole phenom is all about. What makes halloween terrific in all it's glory? Other than christmas, it is a holiday we spend the whole month celebrating(sorry Thanksgiving). Picking out a costume, throwing parties, playing dress-up for a night. But beyond that what is it allure. So maybe a very cool Ballerina costume would show how much of a dancer I wish I was, or a Tinkerbell dress telling the world how much of a beloved fairy I wish to be. And getting free candy is always a plus. But i think the real draw is that for one night we get be whoever we want to be, a day of make believe. But in all honesty if anyone is like me, they spend a lot more time during the year being someone they aren't. Wearing a mask to hide who they truly are. Today is like a day off for us mask wearing people.

So for this Halloween I have chosen to forgo wearing a mask, cause I wear one everyday. A strong facade to hide the fear, confidence that layers years of insecurity, and band-aids that don't fully cover old wounds. My mask has been glued to my face for a while.

For this Halloween what's just wrong with being me. That's the most complex costume of all.

So what's different about tonight? Except an excessive of candy in the system and cheesy horror movies, what makes this my favorite holiday. It's not like I can go treat or treating anymore(well until I become an aunt next year, then I will have excuse). Or that I get easily frightened by the things that go bump in the night. I guess it's because instead of wearing a costume of who I could never be, I've decided to take off the mask and be the me who hides all throughout the year.

It's actually been a pretty good day doing that. I wasn't so afraid of being seen, even if that feeling will only last for a day.

But next year I am totally going to be a butterfly like Ugly Betty . With beautiful wings and all.

Now who will trade a twix bar and packet of skittles for a reese's cup and starburst, this is my final offer, this has to last me at least till Christmas you know.

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

Chemistry Bites.

I have been studying so hard for my chem exam on thursday that i forgot tomorrow is halloween.

How could i forget that?

It's only my favorite time of the year.

All i have been thinking about is titration, concentraction, equilibrium, and how much of a douche my lab partner is.

All this has led me to forget, for a split second, that halloween is tomorrow!!!

I hate you chemistry.

You suck.

Only cute Milo Venti-"whatyoumacallhim"-miglia could save me now.

Crooked mouth and all.

He's my number one Hero .

Strange Conditions

To get a peanut butter cookie? Or not? That is the question.

I have so much to do this weekend that my usually relaxed weekend will be spent reading Anna Karenina(which I have fallen behind on) and studying for my second chemistry exam. So far I have accomplished a lot in the last two hours, but feel like taking a break that hopefully will not be a long extended horror movie watching break.

Oh the dilemma.

For Halloween my English professor wants us to act out a moving picture. Dividing ourselves into groups we had to come up with a thesis for Anna, and then pull a scene from it that we could present to the class. A moving picture is literally a still photo like thing??? We will just get up in front of the class(as a group thank god) and depict one scene out of the book as if we were a painting. What a bizarre thing.

I of course was not feeling it. I got in the group full of Drama majors. Being a recovering Drama nerd myself I know how annoying young over actors can be. And of course I got stuck with the "I'm a drama major this is my life" girl. She has fiery red hair(which I think is dyed because it is dramatic), and pale skin.

Our campus created it's own television show(scripted) documenting the life of RA's in a particular dorm(how...Interesting) and she is in it. Problem is, is that she can't act. And I don't mean to crush dreams, but she needs to take more classes or do something else with her life.

In one scene of the show, maybe due to bad writing or her bad acting, she had to cry. It was the worst show of crocodile tears ever. She made her voice shake, look to the side, paused, quiver lip, sad face...And now she thinks she is Mrs. Nicole Kidman herself. ( I must give her some credit the writing on the show is horrible and...Dry to say the least. She worked with what was handed to her)

she isn't the only one who puts her on such a high pedestal, everyone around her feeds ego with "you are so smart and talented." In class she is always making comments to the text we read, which clearly are pulled for Spark-Notes R'US. And being a frequent visitor to the site, I am a witness to Mrs. Nicole Kidman getting her general "genius" ideas from other sources.

Whatever the case when we got in groups everyone puts her in charge of writing the thesis. The thesis was very generic but once again they all praised her work. We had this beautiful topic of rejection and shame to deal with, and they went all "the ideology of society makes ...." BORING. She is uber excited to "perform" a scene from the book. But with three Drama majors in one group I wonder which of them will fight to be ANNA, because everyone wants to be the STAR.

I'm opting to be an extra, a figure in the background who has no real need in the scene, but who wants a participation grade. It shall be my shining moment.

Anyway

My mind has been running at such high rates lately that sleep has become difficult. I didn't go to sleep until 3am this morning, because I could not stop thinking for anything. It was brought on when Casey gave me an assignment to make anxiety a person. I have to draw and write what anxiety would be if it were a physical person or thing.

How simple it seemed right?

Every since then it is all I have thought about. I feel like I have to complete it to get some sleep. My mind must be wanting me to deal with it, while my body says otherwise.

I was so eager to get started on it and make it this tangible thing I could conquer. 3 days later and it remains a blank piece of paper with ANXIETY written in big bold letters at the top. I have sketched something, scribbled something down, but have not been able to write WHO it would be. How strange it is to have to create something out of what you have been holding inside. I think it's kind of hard, because I feel like it has been such a part of me for such a long time that pulling forth who it would be, might be a little piece of me.

And I'm not ready to show her to world, because I know I would have to let her go. I'd have to say goodbye to her to allow myself to grow, but on some level she protects me and it's hard to let her go(it did not mean for that to rhyme, pretty good I must say).

I have a week to do it, and with my new HP scanner(!!!) I'll try to post it some time this week. But I must warn you I am no artist when it comes to drawing. TRUST ME.

You're Not Freud.

OMG!!!! Therapy was today!!!

I was f*cking freaked out before heading into the building. All I could think of at work was what I was going to say to her(assuming it would be a woman). Lets be honest, I rarely ask for help. It's one of my biggest problem, even if have no idea where I am going, doing, I will not ask for help.

But I needed to go and do this. I needed to try to figure out what my issues are and try to sort them out before I go off to bigger and perhaps better things. But my nerves were still affecting me like no other.

What happened if she said I was a crazy person
Or that nothing was wrong with me and I was wasting her time and mine.
Okay she wouldn't say that, but I was only thinking the worst.

So I headed to the office, for the second this month, go up the 7 stories, fill out some form about my life and wait. I wasn't the only one waiting in this office. There was about 7 people sitting in this tiny lounge area, all looking very nervous. All very different from one another. I was of course guessing what each one was there for.

Kid next to me with glasses clearly stressed about about academics. Book smart type who seems like he would stress over every little thing.

Girl next to me. Knew a lot of people, kept saying hi. Probably fairly liked but at a crossroad of what is expected from her.

Girl sitting on the far left, clearly an eating disorder. She looked frail and pale and I wanted to give her some of my Cheez-its

Older lady, hypochondriac, but I know that from listening to her conversation while I was coming in the building.

One by one they came in, took there seat, waited, and then was greeted by an overly cheerful psychologist. Though I was the first one to come in, I was the last one standing(sitting). I grew a little worried that maybe I had shown up a week early again. And every person who walked by I thought was my potential psychologist.

15 minutes later, a cheerful face greets me. A lady in her late 20's with a friendly disposition.

"My name is Casey"

And with that quick introduction begins my start to recovery.

She took me to a little office which was red and decorated pretty well. I was expecting a couch or something but instead there were two chairs placed in front of one another, and a table with a box of tissues(for the crier) . I dropped my stuff on the floor, and so began our conversation about me...

And I opened up like a DAM. I mean I first started off saying that I had problems expressing what I feel, and the next thing you know I am talking a mile a minute about my issues. As if they are clearly presented before me. Bizarre. I briefly touch on what is bothering me; my anxiety, avoidant personality, general loneliness, and disconnections. She listens intently, writing on a note pad, and interjecting from time to time.

Midway she says "for someone who has difficulties expressing herself you are doing quite a good job" I hadn't realized that. In my mind I feel like the words aren't coming out as I want them, I feel like I am not making sense, but to her it is coming out well. To her I am introspective and quirky, and conceptualizing my feelings well.

I talk about Katherine, about my dad, about my bouts with "sadness". She nods her head, sympathizes with me. My voice is trembling the whole time, I don't even think it's because of nerves, but because they have been held in for so long, it is difficult for me to spit it out. But I continue on; explaining how my anxiety creates tension,especially in mouth, how I withdraw. She says that I make escapes(withdrawal) to avoid my anxiety, I realize that I fueling the fire of the very thing that consumes my life.

She thinks I am interesting, and smart, and that I am a creative writing major(well all but one was right). But what I learned the most is that, as she puts it, "I see myself differently then how other people see me". I have this inner critic making a home in my head. This inner critic that tells me that I don't deserve the things I so desperately want. Friends/love/happiness. I am consumed by how I think people see me that I withdraw from them. I don't take criticism well, even helpful criticism, and I am always looking for something greater than what I have now.

But the most beautiful part of it all, is that I learned I am not this ugly human being I have perceived myself to be. I am not the ugly duckling, and I deserve more. As long as I learn how to appreciate myself, to give myself more credit, to see myself in the light that other people see me in. She says we are going to work on making me concurrent with who I am internally and how I express myself externally. How to connect. How to find out what I want from people and from life, and build on that.

She said she was excited about the journey we are embarking on, and that I was the most exciting session she has had in a while. Though I am suffering from anxiety I am moving forward to dealing with it, and maybe overcoming it. I am the little engine that could and as long as I yell my mantra song over and over again "I think I can, I think I can, I think I can" I can accomplish anything.

CHOO CHOO.

Because she is a psychologist in training she has to ask the people she is giving therapy too if they wouldn't mind being videotape so she can get evaluated by her boss. After staring at the camera for 5 minutes wondering if it was on(she assure me it wasn't) I told her I would think about.

Videotape? I don't know if in 20 years when me and Sufjan have been married for a considerable amount of time and our kids are in middle-school, and he is on his 35th album and I am a famous doctor/writer if I will want a videotape of younger insecure me, talking about my feelings.

But I also think it would be a little interesting. I haven't decided yet.

CHOO CHOO!!

Have you Got it in You?

Another one of those days. ARGH!!. I'm trying not to let myself get so down that I cannot drag myself back up. It is harder than it seems, and I'm trying not to let 'it", whatever "it" is, get to me. But I feel like I am losing that battle.

It could be due to the fact that I think I am getting sick,which always makes me a little irritable that even my body is betraying me. As my mind begins to weigh heavy on the increasing and sudden self doubt that has crept in, my body is dragging around heavy with on coming sickness.

Tomorrow is therapy day and a million things are running through my head. None of them making sense, but a clear anxious feeling arising. It's so weird to go to someone to talk about my feelings. What happens if my problem is that I have a problems expressing them? Especially to strangers. Strangers who may have a note pad and write down things while I talk, which I always thought was kind of weird. But whatever will alleviate the tension at this point I am willing to try. I can't have it build anymore than it needs to , and I am ready to be happy. Not crazy happy like some people in my class, but my own kind of happy.

Because today surely wasn't one of those days. I felt like I wasn't on my A game. I was on a B- game which is downer. My English teacher thought it would be "fun" to look at some art pictures of fallen women. She called my name and asked me about some piece of art depicting a woman on he ground as a man pulls at her arm.

No matter how I looked at the picture, I saw absolutely nothing. My head was so full of everything else that nothing inspiring came out, and I instead opted for "I have no idea what that picture is trying to say". Isn't art interpretable, is it really suppose to say a single thing. I was not feeling it, seeing it, touched by it.

But if she would have asked me if I saw last night's episode of Heroes yesterday I would have said "HELL YEAH, the greatest F*cking show in the whole entire world". I will not go into the details of how excited I am watching this show. It's amazing people, and if you haven't seen it you are missing out on greatness. Flying, alternate personalities, healing ability...And did I mention FLYING!!! And the ever so cute(including crocked mouth when speaking) MILO.

I'm done I swear(greatest show EVER).

For revenge( I am assuming) because no one was inspired by abovementioned picture, she is making the whole class come with a thesis for ANNA KARENINA. In groups on Thursday we have to come up with an idea amongst the ones we make up on our own, and present it to the class. If I'm going to get sick and all it minus well be on Thursday, I feel a little cough coming on.

*cough*

Swans & The Swimming

Today I am in a very...sour mood.

I don't know where it sprung up from. Well actually I do, my idiot lab partner said something about my height in comparison to the girl I was standing next to.

It was a simple comment, light teasing. But I left pissed regardless and then all of a sudden in a funk...A funk that has put me in a mood.

Damn it all to hell. I must pull myself out of it before it swallows me whole, and I end up ten steps back from where I climbed. Damn it all to hell and my idiot of a lab partner.

How quickly I can go from 10 to 2. How quickly I want to retreat and hide my head under the covers, just for a day.

But...I won't. I'm done hiding in an attempt to not deal with the bad days. I'll have to learn how to take punches to the gut, get up, and go on. I'll have become more secure in who I am so when someone says something stupid I can brush it off of my shoulder, instead of carrying the weight of words. But I can still say Damn it all to hell somedays. That works also.

I am taking abnormal psych this semester and lets be honest it's basically free therapy every Tuesday and Thursday. Surprisingly the class isn't that horrible. The teacher is really into her stuff, there are things I learn that make me go "I'm glad I don't have that shit", and there is even a hottie psych guy(smart too) that I can glance at from my seat.

But some subjects make me uncomfortable because I feel like "damn I may have that", all anxiety related of course. Any way we have a project due in three weeks where we have to write about a topic of our choice and of course I figured "I minus well do it on anxiety learn all I can learn and maybe make an A". So today as I was going through some scientific journals(feeling very smart I must add) I stumbled across Avoidant Personality which can be caused from anxiety related disorders. It's freaky how similar the characteristics are to my everyday life.

The light bulb went off. I feel like since I know what's wrong I can continue to work on fixing it. No matter how frustrating and difficult and damning it all to hell it is. I think my biggest setback will be in avoiding the avoidance...If that makes any sense. I have to not resist against getting better. I have to resist hiding in the dark no matter how comfortable it's shadows are.

The days are getting colder which I love. It gives me an excuse to drink lots of Hot cocoa and write scenes for unfinished books. I have a plethora of unfinished stories that are stored in my computer. Some are adaptations of the stories I love, but most are my own imaginative leap into fantasy. Unfinished characters, dialogues, and even a few love scenes remain trapped in saved files( I suck at the love scenes and usually write *insert love scene* later).I suppose the rest of today will be one of those days. Dressed in my new old navy pajama shorts(which I love love), monkey sweater, holding on tightly to my cocoa, I will retreat into the comfort and warmth of my room. Retreating into safety from a bad day may be avoidant, but for today it will have to do. How can I pass that comfort up.

But first I must finish evil English paper. I am struggling with this close reading mess and have no idea if I am headed in the right direction. Whatever the case she is getting a paper tomorrow where I connect the grammatical structure of a passage from Madame Bovary to sexual innuendo of...well...Manliness. It's warped but I think she will like it, she tried to show me how an italicized word was flirty(yes a word that flirts with the reader) in respect to a certain passage. So I don't think she will mind my paper.

"For such a lonely soul, I'm having such a nice time"

Just got back from fall break. I am very exhausted and want nothing more than to lie in bed with covers up to my neck, reading a book not required for class listening to my new CD's. But I instead probably will still take a nap but have a paper to finish by Tuesday which I should have started a while back.

The more and more I go home the more I am happy that I don't live there anymore. I love being with my mom, and at my house with my cats, and even my brother...But there is something about living on my own that makes me want to return back to school. Something about not hearing my named called over and over again because I have to do something.

And don't get me started on having to see people from highshool. How different two years are on a person face/body/outlook. If I have to hear another sad sob story of post highschool lives I may just have to barf. When I see someone from highschool I am reminded of how I am not that girl anymore. There is something liberating about it. I can't hold grudges against those times and the people who were apart of my pain in highschool, when I am not even that girl anymore.

Marie says that we haven't changed. But I feel and know that I have. I can see it my face, hear it in my voice, and feel it my heart. I am so much stronger than I was a couple of years ago. I don't feel so broken.

But of course the most shocking and exhausting news coming from the persistent source of bad news(brother) is that my idiot a**hole of a brother who never picks up after himself, pisses on the toilet seat, who has broken the majority of my CD's, who has more tickets for a person who cannot even legally drive, who will not give money but sure will take....has gotten his girlfriend(who need I remind you has two kids already) PREGNANT.

I'm going to be an Aunt.

Someone shoot me now. Please.

More details to come after my nap.

But I must tell you beforehand that he wanted to name the kid(assuming it is a boy)... Raoul.

RAOUL. WHY? Because my brothers an IDIOT, that can be the only explanation.

He later changed it(due to my mom and I both yelling at him) to the name Benjamin(which I came up with because it was the only baby boy name I wanted for my nonexistent kid)

My brother is still an F*cking idiot though.

Going Home

I am headed home for fall break. The much needed break that couldn't have come any sooner. Though i know i will probably not get any sleep while i am home, fixing everything that is literally broken in the house, being dragged to every new and old store my mom has been to, it is much better than if i were sitting in a class trying not to fall asleep. I'll try to post at home, but if not i will be back Sunday. Exhausted but ready to write and maybe with some pics of house.

Beckett.

Submitted For the Approval

I liked to thank YouTube for corrupting my weekend of studying with endless amount of nostalgia TV watching of one of my favorite Nick shows. Instead of studying chemistry I flew through about a million of these episodes. The Good(seasons 1-4), The Bad(corny acting) and The Ugly( I avoided watching the shows without the original cast). Nevertheless I was very unproductive lounging around in my Illinoise T-SHIRT and watching weird dressed kids from the 90's. It's the best Damn show I have ever watched, and I recommend watching them... just for nostalgia sakes anyway.

In a few days I will be heading home and of course there is last minute business to attend to; Psych quiz, work, and the dreaded Anna Karenin. I didn't realize how long it would take me to finish a few chapters. It's not even that the reading itself is hard, it's probably one of the most straightforward reads yet. But there is just so much of it, that it is taking me forever to finish. Should have done that this weekend but of course I had more important things to watch. Oh the woes of being a procrastinator.

Anywho. Gossip time.

Okay Gossip is probably really bad. I mean what good could come from talking about someone to other people. I stray from gossip. If someone is talking about a person at work, I get real quiet and don't say anything. I'm not trying to have that stuff come full circle and a "she said you said that I said" crap come knocking at my door. So for the most part I keep my mouth shut, but ears wide open.

For the most part being a quiet person doesn't leave much for people to talk about, other than I am quiet. I'd like to fly under the radar.

But that was not the case with Marie this weekend, who told me the horrible night with her boyfriend, and the office gossip that followed. Submitted for the approval of the midnight society I call this story:

THE TALE OF THE DRUNKEN BOYFRIEND:

In between Are You Afraid of the Dark I did manage to finish all of my chemistry homework. Mid problem Marie calls. For the most part our conversations on the phone are pleasant. I talk about Mike, work, boys. And she talks about School, work, Boyfriend. Every time she says his name, I know I am in for a long conversation about him.

They are still dating but the cracks in their relationship are beginning to grow. I mean wouldn't it...they work, live, go to the same school together. That much "us" time could make a person go insane. Anywho. Friday night they were at a party thrown by a co-worker. At first they were having a good time until he decided to mix drinks and got totally plastered.
She said he had never gotten that plastered before but she thought he could handle his alcohol. Not the case especially when Vodka is invoved. In his drunkenness he started embarrassing her in public and said all these mean things about her and their relationship. He was starting an argument with her,bit her on the arm,may have addressed how his family calls her chubby and him a chubby chaser, and then brought up the very sensitive issue of the dog she bought him. Marie loves animals (she's going to be a great vet) and bought him a dog a while back. I thought it was kind of weird and too early in a relationship to get him a dig, but I didn't tell her that. Well in the middle of his saying things about her in front of co-workers he then said "if she hadn't bought me that dog I would have gotten a better one."

WHAT?! DAMN

So after that, she left his drunk ass there, taking his car and headed home. He called the next morning, still at the person apartment, saying he had no idea what had happened last night. She informed him and then ignore him the rest of the day. He wrote some two page apology letter and said he didn't mean all those things he said. That he loves the dog, and their relationship and that he would never get so wasted again that he does something like that. She doesn't know what to do. She thinks she can't be mad at him because he wrote a "sweet" note, but she knows she has to address all the things he said about her.

Their relationship is so weird. Sort of out of convenience rather then general respect and like for another. I mean when i went to the waterpark with them he was always making jokes about her body. When she took off her top he said "please put it back on i am about to throw up. Seriously." I wish he would say something like that to me. I mean it is easy to sit here and say "he would not have done that to me in public"(the party incident and the bathing suit comment) but you never know what you would do in that situation. The hard "pretend to be from Brooklyn when I really grew up in Westchester" me is like

"He would not have punk'd me in public. I would have kicked his f-ing A- . I wish he would say something like that to me and then write some weak ass note trying to apologize. He better be lucky I left."

But the " I grew up in Westchester and can't fight my way out of a paper bag, sorry I bumped into you, eyes down , I didn't do it" me...Probably would have cried when I got home, ignored him, and then told him not to do it again. Not if we are going to remain in a relationship or even remain friends.

My outlook on relationships has changed since leaving my teens, Marriage doesn't seem that bad, not really looking for head over heels love but rather a fun lifetime companion, but what will always remain important is respect. You can't let that waver or you end up getting punk'd like Marie.

While she was pissed that he said he wasn't cool about the dog situation I would have been more pissed at the fact that he didn't have her back. That even in his stupid drunken rants he attacked the one person he should always be looking out for. If I have learned anything it's that you always protect the one you love. Especially emotionally, even if it isn't from yourself make sure you look out for them around other people. If i get lost i want to make sure he's hand is reached out to drag me back onto the path.

That's what my mom said she loved most about James, who she has been talking to almost every other night. Minus the whole cheating thing he always had our backs. He was always making sure we stayed on the right path, had a good time, and always knew that we were loved. She said that last week when she talked to him he said we were the "best kids he's ever had". He's pretty disconnected to his own two kids, and finds comfort in knowing he had a part in our growing up.

Time to go study(and watch Old school Nick). I can't wait for break. I need it. Oh...and I was watching the human stain yesterday for like 15 minutes and why did they cast Anthony Hopkins to play a bi-racial man? It was kind of weird watching a 60 year old, blue-eyed English man play a convincing bi-racial professor. Shame on you Hollywood. He turned a good piece of work into an awkward "why did they cast him" moment. Wentworth Miller was divine though. Oh Wentworth.

I'm Oh So Tired

After a midterm, an exam, and cold that has me dressing like Mary Kate Olsen on a good day( meaning overlayering to the max) I am happy that the weekend is here, and that I can lay in bed all day tomorrow and Sunday and do nothing. Which is what I want to do right now.

My English midterm was yesterday and despite my teacher thinking I am a genius(she always looks at me and smiles like she's knows a secret about me that I don't), I was not at all confident about the exam. It turned out a little better than I expected and I loved the last question she threw on there "what are you going to be for Halloween". After hard thinking I wrote down Tinkerbell. I like fairies. I was tinkerbell in kindergarten, and they threw this huge party in the gym that day. Incidentally the boy I was crushing on happened to be Peter Pan and I hung out with him the whole time. To think I had more guts when I was in Kindergarten than I have now.
Go figure.

Only three more days until Fall Break(not counting the weekend) and I think my mom may be more excited than I am that I am coming home. Ever since my brother has moved out(well he moved back in last week because his girlfriend went back to Chicago to visit her family) I can sense that she is a little lonely in the house.

Growing up, I've always thought selfishly about my own experience with missing home. I mean as a teen I was excited about leaving the nest, kind of neglecting that it would be a little different for my mother to adjust to the missing space. It's weird because we are both kind of missing the not being there for one another all the time.

I guess just as I was use to coming home to dinner, doing homework downstairs on the carpet, watching lifetime on Sundays and going shopping with her, she also misses and was use to those things. You kind of forget that when you are creating your own life. That despite all the complaints she threw at my brother and I about the house being a mess, the TV being too loud, and the arguing going on for too long, she kind of got use to it. And she misses those things.

So she has been uber excited on the phone about my short stay for the week, and has a list of things that we have to do. It seems like things stand still at my house until I return. A picture frame still won't be put up, Fall decorations will not be out, until I am there to oversee that they get done. It's kind of nice to know that I make our house a home, but it's creating a little guilt trip because I know in a few years I won't be here to do all those things. Hopefully I will be far far away from this place,creating my own little nest to rest my head.

Speaking of resting my head...

Yesterday, having some free time before math, I finally got to sit on my rooftop. I was in the library study when Sir-Smells-A lot comes next to me with that damn cart. He stares at me until I acknowledge he is there, so I turn around and do the "hey, didn't see you, how are you doing"
He says he doesn't get how I study in the library even though I work there. "I don't know it's a good place to study" I say. Even though I wanted to say "it was a good place to study until she interrupted it." after that little incident and seeing more and more people who I work with come walking down the aisle I suddenly get the urge to leave. While thinking of where I should go to study for English, the roof popped in my head and I ran over there. And people ...It was the most amazing place ever. I didn't want to leave, I felt like all I needed was a sleeping bag and a good book and I would have remained there all day. Literally I felt "so this is what college feels like" sitting on top of the roof, studying over notes as the wind blew(all I needed was some theme music in the background and it would have been heaven). It was amazing. The trees were blowing, which has to be my favorite noise ever. Part of the roof was shaded and the other part being hit by the sun. The seats rock like a rocking chair and it is utterly quiet, except for the birds chirping. I was up there for about 30 minutes.

Mike was disappointed that he wasn't up there also, and shared the same sentiment of wanting to camp out on the rooftop. I hate that we always throw out ideas but never follow through. Because what he doesn't know is that I totally would have taken him up on the offer.

Surprisingly I am trying not to get all pissy with Mike this semester and we are getting along better . We have so much in common which is probably why it is easy to get annoyed with him. I realize that I sometimes take things seriously and get too defensive. I simply let all the stupid things he says roll off of my shoulder, which has made it easier on the both of us. It's a friendship full of awkwardness but one that keeps me entertain. Plus he doesn't have any kids, so I'm cool.

I don't want my college experience to be so full of self pitying days and disconnections. It's not like I am going to be able to repeat it again, at the same age. I'm trying to enjoy it a little more, so I don't regret what I didn't do. I still have to attend a 80's themed party though, it's seems like the highlight of college parties. I don't think I have ever been to a college party. I've walked through one, avoiding stepping on vomit, but never really been to one.

I gotta work on that. I'd like for there to be more good days like yesterday. It felt like everything click. The best part had to be when a little kid about 3 years old stopped me in the middle of the sidewalk, ditching his mom, to give me a high five. At least I know I have a cool factor with the toddlers.

Time to work on having a really good nap. I love naps, and I think I would literally marry someone if they had the most comfortable nap bed ever. Not even a "sleep bed" it has to be a "nap bed". Full of a bunch of pillows and a comfy blanket made for sleeping in the middle of the day. These college beds don't do naps justice. I can't get to sleep quickly with my sheets falling off the mattress. DAMN.

You've Got Mail Part 2!

IT CAME!!! IT CAME!!! I AM SO HAPPY!!! Now my collection is complete


I don't think anymore posters can fit on my wall....Unless they come out with a Michael Scott office Quotes. Then I would have to get it. I think they should have an episode where David Brent(who would be the representative from the London branch of Dunder Mifflin) comes to the Scranton PA office for...I don't know something stupid that he has to come to the US for... but it would make excellent and funny television. Michael and David in one office for 30 minutes would be like heaven. A girl can dream can't she.

International Language of Confusion.

I love international students. Something about accents and living in a place outside of the US is very cool in my book.

At the library there are a lot of international students working there which makes it very interesting to hear were they are from. It does make it a little difficult to talk to them though. You don't want to sound like an idiot trying to decipher what they are saying but you don't want to say something they have no idea what you are talking about. So I stick to the simple things, jokes about working hard and needing to sleep. They think it's funny, I laugh, they laugh, then I go off and wonder what the hell I was just laughing about, but what the hell.

Today was a little difficult though as I was explaining the upcoming break to South African(not to be confused with last years SA guy) dude. Everyday we exchange a "hey what's up/how are you doing/fine, what about you/..." thing. He's nice, though I suspect a watcher of my dancing, but doesn't creep me out like Sir-smells-a lot.

But today I was very tired, almost falling asleep on a stool I was sitting on when South African guy comes smiling my way. He asks "how am I doing", I should have just said Hey

Me: Very tired, I need a break
SA:[looks at watch] You come in early to take break
Me: What?
SA: For your break that you can take in a couple of hours.
Me: No I mean I am ready for fall break, we have like three days off next week. I get to go home.
SA: You can get coffee during break to energize
Me: No I mean we literally have 3 days off of work, BIG BREAK
SA: We can take longer breaks
Me: NO, school break...you know what never mind, I just need to take a nap
SA:[laughs/ walks away]
ME: ???????

Must remember to keep it simple next time, or trade in the word break for vacation.

Today has been a day of confusions.

I thought I was suppose to start therapy today. So while I worked I made up every excuse why I shouldn't go. My head hurts, I'm getting sick, I have test tomorrow, maybe there is nothing wrong with me, what happens if they want to medicate me, what happens if they say I'm a big sicko and diagnosis me with something, what happens if it changes me so much I have no idea who I am anymore, what happens if nothing changes and this is who I am, who I will be, and who I must learn to get use to...

But in the end of all those excuses, I always ended up right back to the reason I needed to go.

I have the potential to be so much more than I am now. I'm completely happy with myself most days...I think I'm funny, for the most part I love my family and they are very supportive, I'm optimistic, and creative, and I think I have something to offer. But it is wanting to outwardly present those positive traits that I need to work on, and I need help doing it. No doubt about it.

So though I was hella nervous I was excited about maybe learning something. So I headed to the building, wanting to turn back, hoping no one saw me walk in and wonder what I was doing in the building. In the elevator I went, knees buckling, heart racing, and tempting to go back down. But I headed all the way up to the 7th floor, and walked into a very relaxing lobby. Almost movie like. I was expecting a set dresser to come and move a chair or a painting so that the room would have just the right feel.

Unfortunately I was about 2 weeks early for my appointment. The lady must have mistook my "Wednesday would be great" as a "how about 2 week from now Wednesday". I was a little disappointed, I was looking forward to having someone to talk to.

I wanting to possible talk why i thought these past couple of years and my anxiety were not at all related to the way I saw myself, which i what i have been assuming these past couple of years.In fact I think it's about the way I have seen the world . In a sense I have been angry, I have rebelled against falling into a group. I wanted to be...different. I mean not unique, but I didn't want to follow a group. In highschool I was a loner because I didn't want to get so comfortable that I wouldn't want to leave. So I was always on the fence, distancing myself so I wouldn't get to a place where it would be hard t leave something I was use to.

that's why every time I see those gothic kids/skateboarder kids/emo(I still hate them) kids...I always want to say "one day you will stop being angry at the world cause you will realize it gets better". I feel like since highschool I have reformed from being angry at the world, and I now want desperately to join what I shunned. I'm asking for it's(the world/life) forgiveness, and it's been quite a bumpy road proving that I want to belong in it.

The truth is is that am trying to find my way back into a place where I belong.I am no longer trying to fit into a place too small that I am busting out to escape. Or a place too big that I get lost in the folds. Like Goldilocks, with dark hair, I am trying to find something that is just right(as long as a bear isn't occupying that space). I no longer what to stand alone by myself and take on the world head on. That's a risky and tiring job, and one I don't qualify for.

I must study for an exam now. I have procrastinated way to long this week. But I did manage to get 17 points added to a math exam and 10 added to a quiz. It's this cuteness factor I have no idea what to do with this face some days. It's blessing and a curse.

My new favorite spot...

One more week until fall break and I am ready to get out of here. My feet are tired of walking around campus all day. My eyes need about a days rest of sleeping. My head needs a break from thinking and yadda yadda yadda.

Before break I have an exam, a midterm, a quiz, and maybe even a paper due. Surprisingly I am not stressed about those things. I am more stressed about how quickly this semester has flown by. I swear it was only a few weeks ago that I was moving all my stuff into my room, and before you know it I will be sitting in a classroom taking a final exam hoping to pass. WTF.

So even though I am looking forward to a couple of days off from the grind, I am not looking forward to returning to it.

I just realized that my midterm for English is Thursday and then remembered that the class as a whole had discussed a study session(along with the teacher) today at three pm. So packing up my things I jetted to my favorite building. I must take pictures of it, it isn't even all that pretty, but it's the history building which ultimately makes it very cool. I have always had a thing for history(or social studies as we call it back in the day). It was by far my favorite subject. I mean I was always okay in English, and managed to pass math. I was pretty good with Science(meaning non-college science), but History was what I liked learning. Maybe it's my love of things old, but it was a class I liked going to. Plus all the TA's(once again pre-college) were hot and knew useless information. Which i think is cute

For some reason our English teacher wanted to meet in the history building on the third floor. THIRD FLOOR? I didn't even know there was a third floor, with couches, and better yet a ROOF Patio. And though I should have been paying attention to the review session, my eyes kept wandering outside to the patio. Sparsely furnished with a few tables and some chairs, the darkening sky making it all too inviting, I was tempted to stay after everyone left and take my place among the new discovery. At least I have something to return to tomorrow after psych class, unless I want to hang out at coffee place and embarrass myself again in front of hot coffee guy.

Hot coffee guy(who is crush worthy because he's well...Hott, but is nothing more than a "wow you are really hot to look at when I get my cookie" guy) is considerably older than me, and I don't think he goes to my school. Unfortunately his hotness makes me nervous and I don't look him in the eyes. I buy my cookie, take my change, and pray that my legs don't give out on me and I fall down the stairs, because something like that would clearly happen to me.

nevertheless I am completely awkward around him, head bent looking at my watch over and over again like I have somewhere to go even though I don't. Story of my current situation with boys, I am completely embarrassed to be around them.

So on Saturday after a disappointing 30 minute workout, I headed off to my other favorite spot, coffee shop, to get these organic peanut butter cookies(which has to be a lie because if I like it, it clearly cannot be organic). Of course whose beautiful coffee face is working there. There are two girls in front of me, and as calmly as anything one starts up a conversation. I felt like I should have been taking notes or something. She was so casual and not awkward. It was the first time I had heard him talk. It was bizarre and weird and so...normal that I was jealous I couldn't do something like that. Small talk.

Of course she also had a friend with her, and I think it makes things a little easier when you have someone else next to you. You can do anything when you have an amigo(a) next to you supporting or pushing you. I once told a policeman I thought he was hot. Oh yeah.

While taking mental notes of how to approach small talk with random people, the girl simply asked hot coffee dude "so what would you recommend"... Good Lord he went on for about 5 minutes on coffee. Flavor, texture, caffeine, decaffeinated. While learning how to approach small talk, I was also getting a coffee lesson. She said something, laughed, went on about her business.

Next it was my turn. So I go up to plate(because you must use baseball analogies when discussing things), get ready to swing for small talk champion of the world.

I'm thinking:

"I can't repeat the same thing, that would be weird. I can't ask "so hows the bagel and butter?" or maybe I should ask him what he recommends for a quick snack. Well that would be stupid, he would shrug and say "depends on what you like" which would then be followed by an awkward "yeah you have a point, I guess I'll just get my applejuice and cookie". Which would then be followed by me getting to the stairs and tripping and then just embarrassing myself, followed by hot coffee boy and girl who is a master a small talk laughing at the stupid awkward girl who has just fallen down the stairs and broken her leg(and her cookie).But they are at least nice enough to call 9-1-1."

Or at least that's what would happen in my mind.

So I say nothing, push my cookie and juice at him. Grab my things, and walk away defeated. Beckett -0 Boy-15. I'm losing this game.

But I at least walked away with a peanut butter cookie and applejuice, what more can a 20 year old ask for.

Beckett- 25 / Cookie-never had a chance.

That Was Me Then.

Due to our move earlier this summer, our house has literally become a blank canvas. In a sense we have started over, and are trying to make our home feel and look like a home. Morgan is no longer living there, due to his new girlfriend taking him in, and my mother and I have found huge comfort in the simplicity of him not being there. Mainly decorating. We are going for a sophisticated romance, or my new favorite phrase "a beautiful indifference".

We have started with a bunch of family photos and put them into real picture frames and covered the walls with them. It is very refreshing to go over old photos and see pictures of who I was in respect to who I have become. One picture in familiar resonates in my mind, and has since become the center piece of our growing "wall of memories"

When I was a child we would go to a Japanese Steakhouse every year for my birthday. It was one of those places where they cook right in front of you throwing knives and food up in front of you, while a hot grill lay inches away from you. I could not get enough of it. It was the highlight of my birthday and most importantly the times I remember us all being together, eating and laughing and enjoying our time with each other. I say all of us because this was at a time when my grandmother, aunt, younger and older cousins Chris and Lloyd, my brother, mother and I all lived in the yellow house.

Those were very fun but crazy times, a full house of sorts that revolved around a toddler, two kids and pre-teen running around and trying not to drive three women crazy.

A house full of fighting, crying, laughter, and a mean dog named Tammy was like living in a zoo. From fall days, and fighting in leaves. Waiting at the bus stop for our ride to school, Halloween, Christmas parties and dealing with the array of characters in our neighborhood.

Summer mornings, trips to playland,swimming pools, and summer camps we were a house full of people with things to do, all running head on into one another.

So the yearly trips to the Steakhouse were much needed, they were the times when we were all decked out in our best clothing, and hopefully our best behavior for a night where we were all on the same path.

I can remember fighting with chopsticks, trying to ignore my drooling cousin, listening in on adult conversations and being dazzled by the flames before me. It was amazing, and it was all for me, not only the family dinner, but the love of the night.

At the end, since it was my birthday, they would throw in(meaning someone had to pay extra) a pineapple cake, which was literally piled up pineapples made to resemble a cake and then they would take a group picture of us. A snapshot of the event. Later they would glue the photo on a menu and give it to us.

Going through photos a while back I found that huge menu with our photo attached to it, and amazingly it spoke volumes of my life then and now.

In the photo:

My older cousin, brother, and I are sitting at the table. My brother looking off and distant as if he wished he was some where else. My cousins arm is around me, his smile mischievous while looking at the cake more that at the birthday girl. My Aunt is standing behind the three of us. Proud and in the center, with a huge grin on her face(and the hugest glasses ever) as she hold a drooling Christopher, who attention was glued on me. My grandma stands to the right of her. This strong presence from a little women. She is beaming at the camera, perhaps mid laugh, and surprisingly is the only picture I have of her smiling. My mother is to the left of my aunt, and looks fondly down at me, as if I am the pride and light in her life. She is almost leaning into me as if to kiss my forehead.

I of course am front and center, missing a tooth, but smiling anyway. I am wearing my favorite beauty and the beast outfit, with a red headband and long hair falling past my shoulders. I am in complete bliss, as everyone around, everyone I love, is near and close. That photo remains the only one of the seven of us. It remains one of my favorite memories.

That was me then. A lifetime ago but captured forever in rare photos. I wonder why it is so difficult to let go of those days. Why I still unrealistically yearn to go back to them. Maybe it's because there are days when you are reminded of it. A smell, an object, a beautiful rainy day like today, which make those memories seem like events that only happened yesterday. That remind you of the person you were.

I am struggling to be the person I can live with now, and it sucks to say that I wish it was the girl I was back that then.

How I'd like to return back to her.

Damn beautiful rainy days, where I want nothing more than to curl up in bed, fall to sleep and go back to that place. If only for a moment.

We're in this Together Now.

Why are relationships so difficult. There have only been two times in my whole where I have ended a friendship with someone. I don't really count moving away as ending a friendship I call losing touch with someone and that includes something that is beyond my control

But ending a friendship is a very different story. It's like that stupid book "I'm just not that into you" except it's more like "we just aren't meshing well, we are two different people, we shouldn't hang out anymore"

The first friend I stopped being friends with(and I say I but I mean both of us) was a girl named Jessica. She was my first BFF when I first moved her. She had fiery red hair and really pale skin, and was really bony. She scared the living crap out of me the first time I met her, and I had avoided her for the first few weeks. But I think we may have ended up working in a group together and from there are friendship grew pretty fast. We talked about movies and boys and all the things stupid teenage girls do. We daydreamed like no other and had a blast. But there were times when she would just become odd, saying that she didn't want to be friends with Marie and I anymore because she was planning to run away or something like that. After about the 3rd "I don't want to be friends" drama which was in the 9th grade I was pretty much okay with it.

She was always so fickle and wanted me to spend every waking moment with her. We got in a fight one day because she was mad that I didn't want to join her band, I hate singing in public it's my greatest social fear. She was not hearing any of it though , and began to ridicule me on the phone. Calling me immature and that I was the most selfish person she had met because I didn't want to join her band. After hanging up on her she called and apologized profusely and said she didn't mean to say it, but the damage was already done and I told her I didn't want to be friends anymore.

She was pretty pissed and for the next weeks kept calling my house and trying to repair the damage. One day she became frustrated that I was really calling it quits she threatened to come over and harass my family. Upon seeing my tears my mom, grabbed the phone told her never to call again and that the childish games she was playing were going to far. That was the last time she called.

But of course not the last time I had contact with her. In tenth grade her sister said that Jessica had started sleeping with some a--hole and was pregnant. After a few letters back and forth trying to lend a soothing voice we decided to meet up. I dragged Marie, who had by then become my BFF, with me. So me, Marie, Jessica and her sister headed to the mall. It was the most painful hour of my life. I basically hung on to Marie like she was the Holy Grail and didn't say one word to Jessica. It was basically Jessica and her sister hanging out and Me and Marie hanging out.

She offered to give me a ride home, but Marie said she would take me. That was the last I heard from her, and the last I hope to.

The other friendship that has ended badly is Katherine and I, following our conference trip and the inability of either of us to want to fix what's broken.

The other day as I was reading my book in the Commons, whose booming voice do I hear turning the corner to the several couches located in the area. I look up to see her, and for a split second we make eye contact. I sit down low in my seat, trying to avoid the awkward. She stays there for about 15 minutes, talking in a group with some people, her voice getting louder wishing to draw attention to herself, while I almost damage my ears by turning my volume up so high to drown out her voice.

Soon after she leaves, without saying a word. And I head off to class. But for some reason, though I not want nor intention to ever be her friend again, could only wonder why she was ignoring me. Like I know why I'm not talking to her, but why the other day around. She didn't even do the fake niceness, which I would have taken over complete silence.Like what I had I done to her that I'm getting the shaft.

Relationships are so weird and complex, and maybe that's why I fear getting involved with them. I was at her house, sitting on her bed, playing her violin, making sandwiches for her kids, having movie night, and game night, and talking smack to a 15 year old, getting my ass kicked by a 6 year old, tying a 3 year old shoes, talking to very fine ex-husband about Gnarls Barkley and Ben Folds, and going through Medical books at 11pm with her amongst discussing everything girl things. And then like that it's over, then like that we can't even pretend to be nice, we just are engulfed in silence and tension. And that's kind of sucky, because though I don't want to be her friend, I'd at least want some kind of validation, a smile, a hey, that at least says that at one time we were friends. But whose going to be the bigger person. Yesterday neither of us were.

I get attached. And it's hard to let go, and it's something I haven't learned yet. I have never said goodbye, we've just always picked up and left everything lying in our aftermath. A life of unfinished business, is a life of many unforgettable memories. Like they are always suspended in time, like that are always fresh wounds, because you never learned how to say goodbye to them. They are always awkward tense silences of something left open. How I'd like to close that door, and lock it.

She still has Cottage Cheese arms though.

I just finished a very long intense conversation with Marie about relationships of the other kind. Apparently she wanted to hear my perspective on the fact that on of her friends, who is in a relationship, devotes her whole time to her boyfriend. Sounds a little like Marie and her man, but I didn't say that. Maybe I'll embark once more on my new found thoughts on that, but I've got some tune listening to attend too.

Why is he so amazing. Even though I had the most intense bizarre dream about him ever, that made me wake up saying "what the f*ck was that about" he was having a weird preachy concert dressed up like Ike Turner and doing the moonwalk. Freaky stuff people. My crush for him almost died but then my presents arrived today.

Time to feel the Illinoise.

You've Got Mail

Guess what came in the mail today!!!!!

Along with the two cd's and a sampler cd, there was a cute little button and what i have really been craving... MY T-SHIRT(there's an E at the end of it, tight shot). MY weekened is now complete I unfortunately am missing a poster along with my other goodies. The people at the mail center says it will probably get there Monday or something. Hopefully it will, because the space above my bed is in desperate need of 7 dollar poster. I'm just saying.

Why Tuesdays and Thursdays Suck....

4 of my 5 classes are on Tuesdays and Thursdays. I don't get finished until 6:30, and then I am wiped out.

From dragging my very tired butt out of bed at 8am.

To trying not to sleep in psychology class.

Then there is a an hour break, which I spend trying to finish up book for English and/or studying for math. DAMN MATH.

After Damn math class, where we had to weigh ourselves today using the metric system(none of the girls wanted to get weighed.), and receiving bad grade on test, I gloomily walk to English.

Even though I am doing fairly well in English, I still have an urge to sleep. About halfway into the class I begin to daydream.

After English, I run back to my dorm, for a quick lunch break and maybe a little Oprah. With food still in my mouth I make my way up the very large hill to attend Chem. For the first half of the class I am very attentive, the last half I am trying not to look at my watch, but I do anyway and then pray 6:30 will come so I can head back to my room. Where I will not do homework, not study for Damn Math class, and not read materials for English

This happens every Tuesday and Thursday and it is not a routine I have gotten use to . Instead I have gotten use to be very tired and yearning for sleep.

You suck Tuesday and Thursday.

I bid you two horrible days a farewell...Until next week that is.

The Beautiful Occupation

Today at work I spent an hour putting numbers on shelves. Why? I don't know.

Melissa(Who I still don't know what she does) is a senior or something, but is like the "Head of Shelvers" She doesn't really do anything but makes about 2 dollars more. She sits at a desk all day, looks at her facebook account, and occasionally you can see her walking up and down the aisle making sure we are doing our job.

Other than being useless to actually shelving books she is also kindof a Bi-atch. Her voice is always in the same bored tone, and I dread having to talk to her. Not out of fear but out deadly boredom every time I am around her.

So today after taking my skittle break, she informs me that I have to label each shelf with a number. She hands me a envelop full of numbers, a scissor and some tape. I accept my new task and head over to start labeling shelves with none other then Sir-Smells-A lot.

He has earned that name because the first time I met him he was sweating so bad I thought it was raining outside. I was looking around to see if anyone else was drenched and then realized that it was a bright sunny day and the puddle of water falling from his brow was indeed sweat. Besides the sweat, he smelled so bad I was about to gag. I can't even explain the smell. It's not like he rolled in garbage it was like he was born from garbage. You can smell him coming a mile away. I can be in an aisle, smell something and know that he is only a few steps behind me. It was that bad.

Since then I must say his smell has lessened, I guess the concept of showers caught on, and my face does not scrunch up every time he is near. But even now just the sight of him reminds me of the smell, and I get a bad vibe. Hence the name Sir-Smells-A lot.

There are just times when you meet a person and you get a bad vibe. Like maybe in a past life this person did something wrong to you. Sir-Smells-A lot could be the nicest guy ever but I just don't like him, despite his smell, there is just something about him that makes me stay away.

So walking towards him, I was thinking "crap, of all people." I was content on ignoring him, but of course we were both numbering the same aisle(he took a shower thank god) which made it kind of difficult to pretend I just didn't see him.

As soon as I approach he says "what's up"
Me: nothing much man

For some reason he thought this was funny, repeating what I had just said. I awkwardly laugh and then start cutting numbers. I happen to be wearing a David Bowie t-shirt, and he says

SSA: You like David Bowie
Me: I like rock, it's mainly what I listen to.

Which is the truth. But...I don't know much about David Bowie's music. I think he is uber cute in that weird way, and has impeccable style, and that he is married to a very gorgeous Iman. But music wise, I like Heroes/I'm Afraid of Americans/Man Who sold the World and a few other one's but not a huge fan. He then went on to ask me all these song related questions that I shrugged and drew a blank on.

Getting the hint he dropped it. I turn on my iPod and begin listening to Enya. Now before you say anything, I know she sucks. But about 4 or 5 songs are a little catchy and they are calming to listen to. But it's nothing I would admit freely to listening to.(Speaking of IPod, my music library is getting a little old. I am in need of new tunes. Of course I haven't a clue of good artists that don't make you want to weep in a corner. Any suggestions of CD's to buy that aren't depressing would be greatly appreciated) Of course Sir-Smells- A lot wants to know what's playing in my IPOD. I shrug/laugh and say that he doesn't want to know.

SSA: I won't judge you, come on.

Of course you won't judge me until you find out it's ENYA. That's like saying I love Rap but I am playing Kenny G right now. A big NO NO. So I lie, say Sufjan Stevens(who he knows) and change the subject quickly.

Though are conversation was very pleasant, and I don't think I embarrassed myself(ENYA, I bow my head in shame) I am still a little hesitant around him.

How I'd love to stopped feeling hesitant, even around boys who smell like a dump truck.

I think I have a lot to offer. I think people are generally curious about the quiet girl who doesn't say much but whose thoughts are always in the cloud. Sometimes I'd like for my feet to be planted firmly on the ground, and be on the same playing field as everyone else.

I'm learning that the more you don't want to be seem, the more people seek you out. I have made my awkwardness so apparent that people either want to learn more about me or get the "she doesn't want to be bothered" vibe, that they stay away. I guess I am trying to find a fine balance between the two. Not doing such a great job.

I still have to finish Madame Bovary, and man I hope she gets her ass kicked. Yesterday in English while I was trying not to be called on(averting teachers eyes), I had to answer a question of what is wrong with Madame Bovary.

The truth is, is that I had the answer on the tip of my tongue, my teacher must have saw that look because the next thing you know I hear

"what do you think Beckett"

Before I could even be nervous or feel the little drop of my stomach every time I was called on I simply said

"there is this conflict with Emma. She reads these books about magical love/passion/ecstasy and wants them to be true. She wants to immulate that. But what she doesn't realize is that they are lies. And it is her living by those lies that inevitably cause her downfall. She is stuck between this place of reality and fantasy and it is the tension between the two that cause her tale to be a cautionary one. That you have differentiate between the two or you will end up like her. "

WTF. Where the hell did that come from. Someone said "WOW" behind me. The teacher looked liked the lightbulb went off in her head and I had said the right thing, and I was even tempted to go on. But stopped myself.

I hate that Emma and I relate to each other. Because I honestly think I was talking about myself there and just applied it to this horrible character.

Reality and Fantasy. Something I am a huge expert on.But learning to differentiate between the two is harder than I expected it to be.

Time to do homework, after a short lunch break. I am starving.

Madame Bovary

For English I am reading Madame Bovary. Ever since I have decided to minor in English I feel a little more...content with with my major(bio) and minor(English) being the direction my undergraduate career will be moving in. It's the first time in a long while where I haven't said "what the hell am I going to do with this major/minor".

My English teacher is really nice. We had to schedule a meeting because I was suppose to write a paper on close reading and had no idea what it was. So I wrote a paper on whatever I wanted to. Though I got a B+ on it, she wanted to talk about my paper and general understanding of structuring a clear paper. I think she believes I have potential, if I could just get my thoughts down clearer.

She kind of talks like those pompous art people though. Like she has a small hint of a British accent though you know she is from upstate New York. It's kind of weird. For the most part the class is pretty interesting. 20 or so English majors(AND ME!) discussing novels I would never have read otherwise.

One of them being Madame Bovary.

At first glance, and skimming, I thought me and Madame Bovary had a lot in common. She daydreams and reads her little books which give her an unrealistic view of the world. TOTALLY ME. But a hundred pages in and the broad is really getting to me. 1) she is a horrible mother, who literally pushes her kid and then later says it is the ugliest thing she has ever seen.

And then she may be a whore, I haven't gotten that far to see if she goes through with it yet. But reading it I feel a small connection to the trifling hussy. Who dreams of better and brighter things, so much that the things around her(even her poor "ugly" kid with the name Berthe) begins to disgust her.

Lately I have been trying to see the good in things I have, which can be hard, when all you want is something else. I'm trying to ignore the little "grass is greener on the otherside" mantra pacing through my head. I'm trying to give things a chance. Which is probably why Madame Bovary, irks me. Because she has become so bitter towards the thing that she has. I mean even if they aren't for her, even if she has an affair and leaves her husband and ditches the kid(which I do not recommend), she doesn't have to be so bitter towards them. Which is probably why I can't continue to read unless I know that she will get what's coming to her, a nice swift kick in the head for being such a pain.

In truth I see the bitterness in myself, which ultimately makes me resistance against liking her character. I am trying to learn to not be bitter about my circumstance. My greatest fear is that when I leave this place I will carry the bitter with me. I will carry the self doubt, self loathing and negativity with me, that begin to push people away. I want to leave it here, or at least get rid of it.

Speaking of bitter:

Tonight is an Amnesty meeting and I have not decided to go yet. Since last year, South African boy is not the president of the club, I think he may have graduated( I miss his face). Amy(Katherine's butt monkey) and Plain Jane are co-presidents because they didn't want there to be an election. Katherine however is the mastermind behind the two. Though she said last year "I have kids I can't be the president of any club" she has positioned her friends in situations which lead her to inevitably run the show.

About 2 weeks ago I decided to go to a meeting. I didn't want to them to think I was not showing up because me and Katherine had a fallen out. Though we were cool during the summer, things have since changed. I don't call her, she doesn't call me, and I never see her around campus.Fine by me. Nevertheless I still felt I should at least show up to one meeting, so they know that I can do things by myself. And so I could snare at Katherine from my seat.

I was nervous as hell. I could only imagine what she had said to them. And though I was steps from the door, I contemplated turning around. But I had come this far and I was determined to do it, and never come back.

Surprisingly Jane/Amy were uber excited to see me. Katherine ignored me. In my mind I was like "no that bitch didn't" but then I was like "who cares" plus she gained a whole bunch of weight which made coming all worth it. Childish. Maybe? But she deserves it. She flaunted herself around like she was...Queen Elizabeth. She was mean, and not a good friend, and is downright rude.

I went away that night smiling because I had conquered my fear. But then followed my elation by calling her cottage cheese arms while talking on the phone to my mother. I also said she could have fed a third world country with her cottage cheese arms, and I felt really bad about it afterward. I'm going to burn I know.

Even though i said i would go to one meeting and be done with it...things have changed.

There is a boy(of course there is) who goes to the Amnesty meetings. Now, I do not/maybe have a crush on this boy who has a girlfriend. But he may be friend potential

For some reason on Itunes I get his music library. Maybe because of the connection on the hall but there are about 4 people's music library i get, one being the mysterious PARTY HARDY. I didn't even know whose music I was listening to, but I was hooked. He had Sufjan/Ben Folds/Coldplay. You name it he has it. So of course I was curious to know whose music I had spent countless hours listening to.

Putting my detective skills to use, I managed to pinpoint the music library to "______"( He doesn't have a nickname yet) Maybe I'll call him Music Boy. Coincidently he is also in my realism class(go figure). And at the meeting I went to guess who comes strolling in, and sits down right next to me. And we live on the same Hall. WTF. If this doesn't spell "Beckett if you don't befriend this boy than you are an idiot" I don't know what does.

So I may be attending more meetings, despite having to glare at Cottage Cheese all night. If this wasn't the night before a math test I don't want to fail I would definitely go. And I swear it isn't a cop out. I'm just putting passing a test in front of trying to make a friend. But next week I'm there. Definitely. And i may even wear a skirt. Yes i know he has a girlfriend(who apparently is still in highschool, kinda creepy), but i'm just trying to be friends. Or something that resembles it. I am no homewrecker.

Time to go study for above mentioned math exam. Trying not to fail. And I have to finish reading Madame Bovary. I hope I don't throw her out the window.

Casimir Pulaski Day

As I had mentioned I have a new main squeeze, who is actually an old main crush, but who has recently pushed all other contenders to the side and probably for a while. I am a taken girl, wooed by his melodic voice, blank stare, and a slight muscles (I've seen him play and I see the muscles in his arm, oh yeah!!!)

Anyway, I bring this to light because he has invaded my dreams as of late,which make it very hard to concentrate throughout the day, especially at work where my daydreams are more vivid then ever.

It's very difficult when the only boys who come knocking on my door are on probation or too creepy for words. In thinking about my whole boy situation I think I could easily have a boyfriend if I was just willing to date any creepy guy who asked me out. But there is something that I hold on to. There is something that makes me runaway from those creep balls and wait patiently for whoever it is to come my way.

That isn't always easy though, especially when everyone around me seems to be attached at the hip to someone else. My roommates boyfriend practically lives here,Marie and her boyfriend are still dating and more annoying then ever, because I think sex is involved now, and the seasons always bring out hand holding couples who annoy you with their happiness.

Another reason I think therapy may be beneficial is because I realize that the opposite sex make me extremely nervous. Even if a guy is being nice and friendly or super flirty like hot French poster seller dude, I put up these defensive blockers. You'd think I had been sexually assaulted when I was younger I mistrust men so much. Boys that could potentially pose some sort of threat to me I admittedly dislike and avoid. But I am beginning to think it is not the threat they would pose to me, but the vulnerability that would come out if I ever got close.

I think that is why it is so much easier to fall for someone you don't really know. Art boy, Coffee shop Boy( a new kid who works at the coffee shop, uber cute), and of course musicians/actors...yadda yadda yadda.

In your mind they are everything you want them to be. They are everything you wish they could bring out of you. Serenity, a piece of mind, LOVE.

I have yet to let myself be vulnerable, I have yet to let my guards down, I have yet to allow anyone in, and I think that shows. I think people can read that, it is a drawback to making the connections that I want. You kind of have to let people know you need them, and that want to be needed or ended up always striving for unrealistic wants from dudes with names like Sufjan.

Regardless of this knowledge, I still have a mad crush on him. Despite his connections with religion his music puts me at ease, and has helped in the writing process. My dreams about him aren't sexual, which make the attraction for him even stronger. Even if he is a big weirdo.

For now, or at least until I learn how to overcome my apprehension with men,i will stay in my dreams. Especially because I am being stalked by a kid me and Mike call Waldo. We met him during our freshman year while we were attempting to study for bio. He was sitting in the same area as us and kind of butted into our conversation. Ever since then we have literally been hiding from Waldo who brings up conversations about things that do not concern us.

Unfortunately living on campus makes it a little harder for me to avoid Waldo then for Mike. Every time I go to the book store he is there waiting for me. Don't get me wrong I am as polite as can be, but in the back of my mind I am screaming for him to get away from me.

About 2 weeks ago he got really brave and asked me out on a date. OH YEAH. He wanted to know if we could go some where sometime and hand out. Before I could even come up with the "I have a boyfriend" lie, I was like "sure why not".IDIOT. When faced with questions I just can't seem to lie fast enough. He wanted to meet off campus, I wasn't feeling that, so I suggested we meet in the bookstore. He wanted to meet on Saturday. So a date was set up.

Of course I don't think he was aware that I had no intention of showing up. Trust me I felt bad about it. I've never even been on a real date and here I was ditching my potential first one. But I had no intentions to be felt up by some creepy dude whose name I still don't know.

Saturday came and went, and it totally slipped my mind. Then on Monday as I was buying my daily dose of candy guess who can strolling by. WALDO. My heart dropped. He asked about what I did on Saturday saying "Didn't you remember Saturday". So what did I do?... Played stupid. I put on my blankest face and was like "Saturday? Was I suppose to be doing something?"

Luckily I managed to dodge a bullet and he was like "yeah I didn't do anything either." that still didn't stop him from giving me his phone number and telling me to call him. HELL NO.

Right now and for the rest of my life I know that I am not looking for crazy. I'm not looking for Drama, and not even head over heels fairy tale love....But I am looking for peace and comfort, and solace from whoever wins me over.

All things that I am uncomfortable at achieving ironically. That's probably why i look for it so strongley in anyone i would consider dating.

Time to study, no more time for daydreams. I am ultra excited that SCI-Fi(which i usually don't watch but thy have been bringing back some good shows) is bringing back Tales From The Darkside tomorrow. Something to look forward to.

And i think i have decided on therapy. It could hep me learn things about myself, and maybe close some of these issues once and for all.