Power Tripping.

Last week my therapist asked if we could do a Live Session the next time i came to see her.

Live Session basically meant that we would sit in a room that had a two way mirror and have our session. Of course behind the mirror there were going to be other therapist, evaluating her, and giving me insight on my disorder(social anxiety). I of course agreed, because "HELL TO THE NO!" wouldn't have been a proper response to a lady who is helping me out a lot.

Just because i agreed to do it, didn't mean i wasn't still nervous about it. I mean my only experience with two way mirrors are via Lifetime Network (molested/damaged/crazy kid being observed by psychologist through two way mirror) or Law and Order(guy gets arrested, put into interrogation room, watched on by cops). So needless to say i assumed they are only used for molested kids, murderers, and thieves.

It was the weirdest experience ever.

Today we had our session in a bigger room. I sat in this very "psych" chair, situated in front of this very obvious and huge mirror. It wasn't even much of a see through mirror. I mean it was a tinted mirror, but i could still see people sitting behind it. I tried so hard not to look at them, wondering if they knew how much i could see them. So i stared at various objects instead.

Of course i started talking, about a mile a minute, and suddenly the phone rings. It isn't like this pretty ring, it's like an old timey screech.Apparently live also meant they would intervene from time to time via the phone. She would pick up the phone say "Hmmm, that's interesting, yes i see..." and then go back to talking to me about what they had said. A very interactive process.

They had a lot of comments as i spoke. I felt like i was on the Oprah Winfrey show and i was taking questions from the audience

"What does she want to get from therapy"
"Does she put people in the boxes she wants so desperately to escape"
"If she was a tree, what kind of tree would she be"...Okay that wasn't asked but you get the picture.

Of course i came back with what i hoped were clear answers...all while not looking at the mirror.

The phone ran so many times during my session, i wanted to throw it out the window.

Midway through my longer than unusual session i was explaining my idea of the pedestals. As i proposed a couple of entries ago, i put things on pedestals. I see someone i am interested in and i put them so high up there on making assumptions of their character: he will be kind, he's probably sweet, he likes long walks in the park and hand holding(I'm not into that but it's an example of the crap i do). what i have learned is that the problem with pedestals is that i give whatever i placed up there so much power over me, that they become unattainable. How can i obtain something i perceive as perfect and untouchable.

Even with bad situations i put them on a pedestal where it becomes hard for me to get them down. If I have a bad day, ITS THE WORST POSSIBLE DAY EVER. If something happens at home...SHIT I SHOULD HAVE BEEN THERE.

So when posed with the "what do you want to get out of therapy", i was stumped, because there are a lot of things. I want to not be socially anxious, and i want to not put everything so high(or low) on a pedestal that i am not able to see the object clearly. That i am not able to realize how small it is.

Apparently one of the therapist wasn't digging that response. The phone went off again, another loud piercing ring. This time it was a little longer, two many HMMM's than i like, and then a finger pressed against the mouth in contemplation.

THERAPIST: Well...one of my colleagues is worried about your idea of taking the power of something away from someone. That that may make you have more control over them, by stripping all it's power away and could cause great distance to people than what you want.

At this i laughed. I had to, because the first thing that popped in my mind was "ME? Gaining to much power and imposing it on others? Yeah right?"

I'm guessing his worry was that by taking away the power something has over you, you are creating a jaded sense of power and ownership over that object/person.

The truth is, as i told the audience before me, that for the past 8 years everyone(including anxiety itself) has had power over my life. I put things so high up in the air, creating gods and goddess out of ordinary people(boys, friends) and situations that i set myself up for disappointment when they don't match those ideals. Especially when i percieve the boy i like seems too perfect and handsome that he would never like me; that the simple act of speaking in class would make me seem stupid because everyone else is so much smarter; that i am not equipped for happiness and love that life offers in the hidden crevasses because i am not worthy of that.

I need to take them off the pedestal because i gave them too much power over me when i put them there. I need to take them down because they haven't earned a right there. I've given them so much power, taking some away from it won't hurt anyone.

And what that...my session was over.

I was there so long, and by the end I was pretty exhausted with my trip down Oprah's studio audience.

It was pretty weird, i don't know how i feel about it yet. So far i am just...tired. I did learn something though: I'm wicked awesome, i curse a lot during therapy, and i hate two way mirrors.

BUT:

(Not to get all after school special on anyone)... for the first time in a while, i am beginning to think that i will be okay.

What "okay" is I'm not really sure. But being fired with questions, only reminds you of all the answers you have within, if you just look hard enough to find them.

Time to sleep. Chris Hansen is doing another "To Catch a Predator special". I love Chris Hansen; Not more than Anderson Cooper or the ever so handsome ken doll Bill Hemmer, but he'll do for tonight. I love newscasters. How do i meet one of those?

Good News/Bad News

Sometimes my days never seem to find middle ground. Or perhaps i don't allow myself to see the shade of grey that makes life...bearable.

Today was one of those days. Middle ground being no where in sight.

I sent an email to my professor over the weekend. I don't talk a lot in class, which is kind of a bummer when it comes to the end of the semester and the professor doesn't give you that one extra point because they don't remember who you are.

The only way professors get to know me is through the work i turn in, once i at least write something, they are aware of my presence in their class.

So Friday i sent an email concerning my thoughts on the poem the Tyger and the Lamb(William Blake is the man). Even for me it was a pretty smart and well thought out question. I waited and waited for him to respond, i thought perhaps my question was really stupid after all and he couldn't even find an answer for it, maybe i sent it to the wrong email address, maybe he doesn't check his email on the weekends.

But of course neither of those were the case

Good News: He received my email, thought it was a very intelligent question and provoke many thoughts.
Bad News: He read the whole email in front of the class. Of course this was after making me raise my hand, so he could spot the culprit who sent him the email himself.

Good News: he thinks I'm smart
Bad News: He thinks I'm smart.

After being a little embarrassed for sparking a 15 minute debate on William Blake, i headed to work. Work is not really fun anymore. I mean it was never really fun, but it was tolerable. Apparently i have been more quiet since i returned, and people are starting to notice. Perhaps even talking about it behind my back.

Good News: South African Boy(the one i worked with, not the one i was crushing on), who got a new job in November-ish, came in the library looking for little old me. He gave me a hug and everything and said he was really happy to see me. No one has ever wanted to find me before, it was a little touching
Bad News: I didn't swap any numbers or email. I forgot to ask

After the small chit chat, i went to sign in.

Bad News: Evil girl i work with said she has noticed that i don't talk to anyone at work, and she likes to bug me because i am shy.
Good News: (There aren't any).

After work i headed to math. Mike must have thought it was "Try to piss Beckett off day" because well that is exactly what he did.

He thinks he knows everything about everything. He especially thinks he knows everything about me. Which he doesn't. I hate when people ask me the same question 20 different ways. Because you are going to get the same answer...I'm a very not a very confrontational person, but push any body into a corner with "You don't know this...that...You are so...this...that...." well you are bound to get a little( and deserved)

"shut the F*ck up!"

Bad news: Yelling at Mike before Math Class
Good News: Didn't stab Mike with pencil before Math Class

And finally to top off the wicked awful Monday, i had Chemistry Lab.

Good News: I didn't skip it
Bad News: The scare tactics the Ta's use so you don't blow yourself up in lab and then sue the university.

After signing away my life to take the lab, i then had to sit through a lecture where comments like these were made:(after showing gruesome pictures of eye damage caused by reckless students)

TA: Now this is like the worst case scenario. The contact is stuck TO the eye. And there are no known surgical procedures to remove it. So sign on the dotted line to ensure that if something blows up, gets lodge, or stabs you in the eye..or anywhere for that matter of fact...you won't sue the university.

Then he laughs. Almost reassuring us that he is totally joking. But then he turns serious again

TA: But seriously don't blow the lab up. You could like DIE!!!

????

I'm calling it a day. I have my cocoa and sandwich, it's scary out there in the real world

Lullably

Why do i get all my epiphanies while lying in bed?

I swear if there was job that i could have which meant i could spend the majority of my time in bed i would take it(except prostitution. That's kind of gross. I'm doing a story on prostitution, and my research on ancient prostitutes has been a little...rough).

There are many things about myself that i have learned in the last year.
1) dancing is dangerous in cool socks
2)Psychology sucks
3)Katherine is out of her fucking mind
4)This was the weirdest thing i have ever seen
and last but not least
5) I know nothing about boys, boys, or boys .

They make me nervous, especially the ones i would want to date. The boys who are just friends, Mike, i am comfortable around. I will punch them in the arm, lean into them when i laugh(loudly at best), and don't even mind the close talking.

But boys that i do like, i completely ignore, avoid eye contact, and can barely muffle out a noise.
(Music boy bearing the brunt of my awkwardness)

I am completely hopeless.

I was walking to my therapy session on Friday(i had some biofeedback workshop to attend, where they measure how stress my body is. Apparently i am a walking corpse and my body is stressed). On the way i noticed a potential "crush" walking to the side of me.

The class that occupies our classroom before my Theory class is a Creative writing class. Due to time conflicts i wasn't able to take it this semester, but luckily for a few minutes every Tuesday and Thursday i have the pleasure of seeing BRIAN. OH BRIAN. He looks like he just graduated from grad school, he has this disheveled look going on, and doesn't have the arrogance of my Theory teacher.

Of course the class is full of girls, who remain after to ask him benign questions about writing. I just stare on in awe,and a couple of times have been caught staring rather hard. Plus he's the creative writing professor, I'm good at creative writing, it's a star-crossed relationship waiting to happen. I've already imagined it up, and am hoping beyond hope that i can take his class this summer or next semester(preferably next semester because it's longer)

Though this crush is really just a "you're really pretty to stare at" thing, it didn't stop me from completely tripping in front of him on Friday. I caught his eye for what seemed like a minute, and then i tripped over some rock in the sidewalk. After regaining my composure i ran into a building cursing my clumsy legs and antsy nerves.

After the biofeedback i headed to my room for my favorite 6 o'clock nap. I get the greatest insight during my nap times, thoughts forming as soon as i close my eyes.

I realize or have come to accept that i put people on pedestals. I make people larger and more iconic in my mind than i should. Art boy being the biggest example.

I have unrealistic ideas about people, about boys in particular. I attribute it to my imagination, as vivid as it is. Though Art boy is very nice, and apparently "dating" a girl named Barry(for real), perhaps he wasn't everything my mind set him out to be.

I mean the more real he became to me incidentally started the demise of my crush. I had placed him so high up there on cloud nine, where he was perfect and beautiful. Nice and thoughtful, that when he actually turned out to be just a normal guy, i didn't know how to deal with it.

Perhaps this is what i did with my Theory professor(and everyone else for that matter of fact), and why in the matter of two weeks i have grown to dislike him. But on Thursday after taking him down off the pedestal of cool rock and roll rebel guy, with James Dean Sensitivity, James Stewart morality, and Steve McQueen edge(I am taking applications) he became less intimidating. He became almost approachable.

And i hadn't fully grasped i was doing this until my epiphany the other day. Until i had tripped over some rock because the Creative Writing teacher had appeared suddenly, and i became all to aware that i had begun to place him on the pedestal of nice,sensitive, art guy, with awesome bed head.

I mean it's hard to get a know a guy when you put him out of reach. It's hard to not be afraid of getting to know people when you feel you can't offer them anything. And a lot of times, even though i know that i am funny, and sweet, and that i have something to offer, i don't feel that way towards the guys i like. I feel inadequate, naive, clumsy, and uninteresting. Like they are so high up there on some list i could never get on, that i as minus well just admire them from a distance.

But i had the realization that the moment you are on the same plain with whatever you wish to have,when you put "it"(whatever i put on a pedestal) on an eye to eye level, it becomes so much easier to grasp. The odds seem in your favor because the playing ground is leveled.

I have yet to put this new found knowledge to use, but then again it is only Sunday.

Dear Tom Cruise.

Hey, How's it been.

I've been good these last couple of years. It's been a while since i last talked to you. I think the last time was around 1997, when your torn out picture was taped near my bed next to the ever handsome George Clooney.

I have grown up a lot since then. George's picture is now replaced with Sufjan Stevens, I'm attending college, and will 21 in a couple of months. I know! How quickly time has passed.

Though there have been very good times since 97', i have also had some ups and downs. More downs than ups actually. We moved from the nice apartment in New Rochelle, to a new place that just isn't home. My grandma died, my bird died, my brother became an A**hole, and i have developed anxiety.

I know...I know...Anxiety. It hasn't been easy living with it. I have insomnia, i get nervous around everyone, and i don't have the relationships with people that i so yearn for. I mean I'm 20, and anxiety has paralyzed me from experiencing important things.

I want a boyfriend, i want a best friend, i want to not always scurry away in fear.

And i respect your opinions more than you will ever know. Ever since i saw you in some movie, about some dude, experiencing something...i was hooked.

And though we aren't as close as we use to be. You having moved on with your family and career, and me developing some true sense of myself...you will always hold a place dear to my heart. You were the first celebrity i ever really pinned for, and for that i owe you the world.

So i thought i would tell you before anyone else that my psychologist brought up the idea of me taking some antidepressants so i won't be so antsy. And though at first i was opposed to it, i now am seeing it in another light.

Nothing is set in stone, I'm just having a meeting with someone to talk about the prospect of taking some medication that will help me . And at this point I'm ready for help. I'm ready to be happy.

Please don't hate me.

Your Friend,

Beckett

P.S Tell the family i said hi.

Toliet Paper Bandit.

You may have notice that i have never talked about my roommates on this blog. After the whole freshman drama that went on with writing about roommates on the web, i decided against it.

But i have gotten smarter in the last two years, meaning i don't post anything on facebook and no one knows about this blog. YEAH! Unless some stalker freak decides to google my name because they meet me in a class, i think i am safe from intrusive visitors from my real life. Just the way i like it.

So i feel a little safe in finally talking about my roommates, especially the toilet paper bandit.

When i first found out i was having three roommates i was like "oh crap how is this going to work out." Even though i knew i would have my own room, i was still pretty iffy on having roommates. I'm quiet, i keep to myself and apparently those are all no no's in college living. The more hidden you try to remain the more people want to find your hiding place.

But i was optimistic. This wasn't going to be the same experience as freshman living. We wouldn't get cabin fever, and start attacking each other. We would be adults, respect each other, and go on with our business.

I am fortunate to say that has been the case. My roommates are Lauren, Kim, and a girl named Star. Yes people you heard it here her name is Star(and if you can believe it her last name is that of the infamous ex view Host. SERIOUSLY).

Our apartment is average college living. You enter into the living room, kitchen area, and then doors on each end lead us to our corners(where two bedrooms and a bath await us). I share a corner with Kim. She is really nice, tall, has a high pitch voice that can kind of be irritating. Her boyfriend, who lives down the hall, is here like everyday. And i have to put on earphones to drown out the noise of....Well when a man and a woman love each other and want to express that love....you get the picture.

Lauren is really cool, she brings a lot of people over which sometimes can get a little loud, but it hasn't come to a point where it has caused any problems. And Star, well what can you say about a girl named Star. Before i ever met her there was a note on the garbage can reading "this is Stars garbage can, if you aren't going to throw out the garbage then don't use this can" -STAR-

After this small introduction i thought i was going to have the biggest problem with her. But she is actually very nice, minus the notes she leaves around the apartment.

It is always a little difficult living with people. It's all about compromise and respect. Which in the college sense means you don't touch my stuff i won't touch yours. But the bathroom is a different story.

Toilet Paper is like a commodity. For some reason us college kids go through toilet paper like we do alcoholic beverages. In my dorm, the Ra even gives away free rolls of the stuff if we do well on an quiz/exam.

But i think Kim may be eating the toilet paper. Okay not eating it, but i have entered the bathroom with a whole roll of toilet paper on the roll and then the next day, it's just the roll no paper.

At first i thought "perhaps the paper wasn't bountiful enough", maybe my mind is playing tricks on me. But having been here for a few months, i notice how quickly toilet paper runs out in our bathroom.

Towards the end of last semester i was stealing toilet paper from the Biology department because she was running through it so quickly. I snuck in ready to stuff as much toilet paper i could into my book bag , because she had devoured it all it in a week. I once even got caught(forgetting rule #1 of stealing toilet paper: close the stall in the process of stuffing paper in book bag), and did the walk of shame with toilet paper in my hands.

To top things off, her excessive use of toilet paper flooded the toilet yesterday. Instead of doing the bright thing, unclogging it. She just keep flushing it. After she left, i(because I'm McGyver) dislodge the buildup of toilet paper she kept shoving down the toilet. Who knew a Clothes hanger could act as a plunger.

I then had a scary nightmare last night(being traumatized for being that close to 1) a toilet 2) someone else's urine) that she and her boyfriend(who has been a consistent pisser on the floor) had to wear depends during a photo shoot i was conducting. I don't know why they were wearing depends, or why i was conducting a photo shoot with the Fabulous Trent Reznor, but i woke up scared. Very scared.

Perhaps she has a urninary tract infection, perhaps she has a billy goat in her room, whatever the case i have been selfishly hoarding my toilet paper.

Staying on the subject of toilets, my english professor has officially been put on my shit list.

Today was a horrible lecture, being hot and cursing only gets you so far in my book. I rolled my eyes so many times during the lecture, i almost had to pick them off the floor. He's arrognat, cooky, and full of himself. He was right when he said there would come a point in the class where we would hate him, i just didn't think it would be so soon.

I was hoping to make him beautiful and wonderful in my mind before he satrted to tear it all away. But he didn't even get that far before he blew it. He's entirely too rational. Granted it's a theory class, granted theory sucks, but he manages to present what suppose to be beautiful as something that is rough around the edges. He then went on to say bad things about people majoring in English, about literature in generally...but maybe he thinks giving a smile after each statement will make it a little better.

It doesn't. It makes me think he's an ass. I can't even look at him without thinking he is destroying everything that made me want to change my major to English. I almost threw my book at his cute face.

He wants us to write about what we discussed in class for our journal entries...I'm hoping all the negative things i say won't demote my grade. But at this point, not even his hot face can save him from my poor opinion of him. He has the semester to try to make it up, but so far he's doing a crappy job. Does that mean he is a crappy teacher...I don't know. He evokes thoughts which i guess a teacher is suppose to do, but he doesn't inspire them. I value that more.

And yes that is a picture of him above. Damn why does he have to be so cool.

Son of a Bitch.

What a bizarre day.

Things started off well. I woke up at a decent time, put on my favorite t-shirt and headed out into the very rainy day. I of course am a fan of rainy days. Give me a rainy day every once in a while and i am the happiest girl you have ever met.

Of course i wasn't bracing myself for the cold as hell rain that i walked into. The wind was blowing, the rain was pouring, my hands were freezing and i forgot to put on a warmer jacket. Regardless of this fact i headed off to class in high spirits.

Surprisingly i had done my homework this weekend. I'm not saying that there weren't hours where i procrastinated more than usual, but i managed to buckle down long enough to read the poems he had assigned for Monday, and i was confident that i would pass the daily quiz he gives.

of course when i got to class,drenched and cold, i noticed that there were three other poems assigned that i forgot to read. I quickly had to read the poems(poetry being very hard for me), finishing them as soon as he walked into the classroom.

Luckily i did okay on the quiz, but i am going to make sure to read the whole homework list before coming to class.

Then work. Nothing really peculiar happen. I feel like ever since the office party, i have offended some people when i opted to hang out with the weird girl rather than them. It's kind of a cold reception now, like i am there but not really there. Regardless of this shift in attitude, or my perceived shift i put the books away and go on with what i have to do. Mr. McStinky is still there, but i think he gets the "i don't really feel like talking" mood and doesn't bother trying to start up a conversation.

After work i have like 40 minutes to spare, i usually head to the House(center of campus), get some coffee, sit in a large room all by myself and write. As i was writing though i heard the most beautiful music imaginable coming from the hallway. I at first thought someone was showing a video, but then i heard someone talking on a microphone. Putting two and two together, i grabbed all my things, ran to the second floor and in the arms of beauty. Okay it wasn't in the arms but i walked right down the aisle to where this dude was playing a DIDGERIDOO. Not only do i love the word, but i love the sound that was coming out of it. I was at a lose for words. He was playing in front of a small crowd of people, talking about the instrument, talking about Australia...I was hooked. Unfortunately i had to go to class, i left his very beautiful face and Didgeridoo and left.

I hate math. But i love this class. I understand everything, i don't feel stupid, and it's only 50 minutes. Having Mike in the class with me isn't that bad either. I keep telling myself he is my only friend, treat him like one even when he gets on your nerves. Class ended as quickly as it had started, and we parted ways.

Now this is where things get hectic. Labs started today. I f*cking hate labs. They are long, boring, and i am usually struggling to catch up. Regardless of all that i hate about labs, i have to take it to fulfill my requirement.

Usually when they assign labs there are two times listed on the schedule. The first time listed is not really a class just an hour they give you to come and ask questions. The other time is the lab itself. i assumed this time thing applied to Ochem. So i skipped the first hour. I went to the coffee shop, got a cookie, got trapped in a crowd of groupies who were listening to some idiots rapping about coffee. If you're going to rap please make sure it is not crap.I particularly am a rock lover but i appreciate everything(except country) if it's good. This was not good. But they attracted a crowd because they were putting on a show.

This would not have bothered me so much, if they would have stayed upstairs. But as soon as i got downstairs took my seat, and pulled out my notebook they too came downstairs, with about 10 people following them who wanted more of their show. So of course not wanting to displease the ladies, they started rapping downstairs. It was so crowed with people, it was getting really loud, and they were disrupting my coffee break.

So i left, headed to the science building, and had a relaxing 40 minutes. It wasn't until 2:00 that i headed to where my class was. Unfortunately i didn't see anyone there. Turns out the 1:15 time is actually class time that we ARE suppose to go to. (WHO KNEW?). So i missed a whole hour of class, by the time the lab started everyone had gotten sheets in class about what we were suppose to do. I had to explain to the lab coordinator what happened but because it was the first day, no big problem.

I then had the dilemma of trying to buy the lab book they had assigned. After stopping at two copy shops(because it wasn't available at any bookstore) i had to call the nice TA and ask him for directions. He informed me that the copy place wasn't even on campus. 2 miles here, a left and a right, straight down for 10 minutes on a street I've never heard of...it should be on the right.

????

This is one of the times i wish i had a friend who could drive me places. I mean, i could take a cab be out of a few bucks plus however much i had to pay for the book. I could take the bus...not that i knew where the bus stop is, or which one would take me there. I could walk..okay that wasn't even an option.

So...i called Mike. And i must say for all the bad things i say about him, it was very nice how quick he came to my dorm, drove me to the copy shop, and dropped me off, even though he had a class in 30 minutes. He gets brownie points, and possibly coffee.

Despite getting all warm and fuzzy at having a friend to depend on...i was pissed that the stupid gigantic lab manual, a class which i skipped on the first day, that i may royally suck at...cost me 100 DOLLARS!!!!!!

My poor back account. My poor feet. My poor brain.

But i survived. Even if today was a shitty day. I made it...without getting all antsy. Maybe this therapy thing is working after all .

Beyond The Moment

Sometimes i wake and i have no idea where i am.

Literally, my eyes will open and for what seems like a minute i am trying to mentally place myself. Even with the sun shinning in my room, or the big green frog resting by my foot, i cannot place this room, townor most importantly the bed i am in.

Lately i have been waking up expecting something. I'll roll over expecting someone to be their, or to my phone seeing if I missed call, or I'll wake up trying to remember if anyone is expecting me for an early morning run, a drive around the block, or breakfast at the coffee shop.

But then...just like the moments after i wake up and realize where i am, when i have finally placed myself back to this room, town, school, and life, i am hit with the realization of all the expectations that don't exist. And i fall back to my pillow wanting them to be as real to me as i have dreamt them up to be.

This Sunday has just been emotionally draining and for no real reason at all.

I think the closer i get to figuring myself out, to trying to repair all the damage that has been caused over the years, the more...drained, and frustrated i become. I am frustrated with my progress or lack thereof. I feel like i have my feet firmly planted in cement and i desperately want to get myself out.

Just waking up today and having that feeling, that awareness of all the expectations that have fallen short ,made me yearn for them even more.

All i can say is thank god for pseudo scary movies on Sci-Fi, shortbread cookies, and the comfortable slippers that are lifting me out of this fog. I wont let it keep a hold of me forever. I would also like to thank Justin Timberlake's song "What goes around.." because shockingly you can't be sad when you are dancing to JT. Just saying.

Heavy Rotation.

My first week of classes have gone by faster than i imagined.

This week has left me exhausted, more exhausted, and on the verge of sleep deprivation. I'm hoping in the following weeks i will catch up to my schedule, because right now it is dragging me along.

I don't know if i can say i was surprised when Mike came walking into my Math class today. He had asked me on Wednesday(via facebook) what Math i was taking, and because even through email i am a pretty bad liar, i told him the time and the teacher.

This has got to be like the 6th class we have taken together. Perhaps he has just grown accustomed to me being their in one of his classes. But he is kind of a distraction, and I'm hoping not that big of a one seeing that i need to do really well this semester. It is good to finally have a familiar face in one of my classes though, i mean a face that i have talked to rather than admired from a far.

I never thought it would be so hard to connect with people. I almost admire the people who can freely start up conversations, who can just say Hi without fear. I've been realizing that generally I'm a happy person. Sure i have my ups and downs, and have bordered on depression from time to time in the past. And my anxiety is a bitch, but I'm happy. I'm happy to be living, I'm happy with my writing, and with the exception of my brother, i am happy with my family.

But it's fulfillment that i am looking for. And fulfillment is much harder to get than happiness.
I don't even know where to begin looking for it, or if i am able to attain it...yet. Doesn't stop me from looking though.

In other totally unrelated news...i have begun the deconstruction of my hot English teacher. He was as hot on Thursday as he was on Tuesday. This semester all my teacher, except one, are male. I've always had better experiences with females then males. I of course am generalizing this experience from my high school years where my male teachers gave me the hardest time:

My speech teacher wouldn't take my "shy, non talkative" participation, so purposely put me in class situations where i had to assert myself.

My Calculus teacher, the biggest jerk of all, threw my test in the garbage can once because i assumed we were suppose to turn in our test rather than keep it at our desk. He also managed to scold me for not knowing the name of the girl who sat in front of me....though he had been calling me Tiffany for 5 weeks. My mom later on had to come to school because his taunts were borderline harassment. He moved away the next year after many failed attempts to apologize to me.

My history teacher, who i hung out with during lunch sometimes, made me question everything and made sure i took nothing for face value. He pushed me to explore the world around me, which didn't always make it easy during class discussion, as he prodded me to give answers.

And last but not least the creepy hot math teacher, who called me Beck, and wanted me to attend "after school" help with him. He was hot, but he kind of creeped me out. I brought a friend along,just in case, and as soon as the sesson began he brought my chair so close to his, dragging it closer to him, that i quickly stopped those sessions. He also later quit.

My track record has not been well. College is a little different though, my 101 professor, Barnett ,was super nice, graded rough, but I got an A. My European Lit professor pretty much lectured and the Ta's took over the bulk of the grading.

But Mr. McHotty is very...excited as he teaches. He doesn't ask us for our opinions, he demands it. He paces the room with his leather shoes, giving fire and brimstone lectures, just without the religious undertones. It's absolutely amazing to watch him teach, not because i understand anything he says but because he seems to believe in what he does so much that he wants all of us to believe so too.

This doesn't mean I'm still not intimated by him. The girls giggle and laugh at his jokes, the boys have so far tried to question his theories on theories. I remain frightened through the whole class. So I'm working on deconstructing him, to make him a little more approachable.

Being the queen of observation I'm picking up on some clues that make me think he isn't as tough as the charade he puts on.

1) he drinks Evian water. Perhaps it just me, but there is something about him drinking what i consider an expensive brand of water as funny. Like he would never buy water out of the machines in the hallway which only carry AquaFina. Does he have like a stash of Evian, does he think it will do wonders for his skin.

2) He has moments of ADD, where he goes on tangents about irrelevant pop culture news. So far he has reference South Park, Prince, and The Real World. Which means he is either very nostalgic or out of tune with the time.

3) Back to the Prince thing, which he mentioned was his first concert. Hmmm...PRINCE? I'm just saying, thats a far cry from The Clash he was so eagerly promoting. Not trying to make any generalizations..but Prince. The Purple Rain king himself. HMM....

4) He is kind of tall, and muscular which i don't think he has grown into yet. He has tripped over this yellow chair in the room several times already. And he has no idea where to place himself. He will lean against the table, come walking down the aisle, return back to the table, put his knees on the table, fumble with bottle cap. I imagine he was a slightly gangly and awkward teen.


I figure if i keep assessing his characteristics, even if they are totally off the mark, he becomes not so intimidating, i mean how can you fear a guy who listened to Prince and has ADD. Come on.

Time to go back to...studying/watching tv/or sleep. I may go to the Movie club(making them not watching them) on Sunday, just to do something and try this whole talking in groups thing. But i haven't decided.

Last but not least

Name: Beckett Amelia Hughes

DOB: o3-01-1986

Hobbies: Reading, Writing, The Travel Channel(for my traveling hobby)

Major: Psychology? Biology? English?

Year: Junior

Favorite Authors: Langston Hughes, Sylvia Plath, Ayn Rand, Ernest Hemingway, Anne Whitney Pierce, Elliot Pearlman.

Future Plans: Writing, Medicine, Journalism.

Allergies: None that i am aware of.

Why are you taking this class: because it was the only one open.

Today my English teacher asked us to write down things about ourselves on a note card. As soon as i saw the card i was already beginning to hate him. He's young, says the word professional too much in conversations "I like to be professional" "that's not professional" "we are all adults be professional", and is uber excited that he is now Dr. Gilbert instead of Mr, though he only looks 27. He's actually really nice, but i don't know if that is a bad thing or not yet.

I hate the teachers who are like everyone's best friend. The girls and guys feel like they can relate to them because the professors says cool, and awesome. Some how it worked yesterday when Mr. McTeachy cursed, and walked around the classroom as if he owned the room. Mainly because we kind of know we could never hang out with him, he's too cool, too adulty, too hot for words.

This guy though is an average Joe. He tells lame stories, is friendly with the ladies, and wants to be taken seriously while rocking converse shoes(they weren't converse, but you get the picture). The class seems interesting, despite the note cards from hell.

As soon as we were done with the note cards he began going through all of them. Calling on each and every last person reading what they had written down. The whole time i was praying he would just call my name so i could be done with the whole thing, but of course i was the last card he picked up.

By then someone had already named my favorite author, and i didn't have anything to say. So i awkwardly nodded and said yes to something he asked. He was perplexed(seriously he looked confused) when he read i had taken Realism already. I think i literally saw him take a mental note, and i am hoping he just has confused faces and won't go asking about me if the two happen to cross paths(i always wondered if professors talked about there students to other professors)

After a very long day, i headed to my first therapy session in a long while. I was a little worried how it would go, i mean we hadn't had a session in so long, i was worried she would forget everything that i had said.

But we embarked on my quest for...well i don't really know, as if i had just seen her. Apparently i am making strides in whatever i am trying to overcome. She says she can't imagine that i have anxiety, because the person she sees in session with her is personable, friendly, and even smart. But that room and my session are like my writings. We are closed in a room in the corner, with calming lights, it's almost like a shell, a warm shell. I feel free to say stuff in there, stuff i didn't even know i felt.

But as soon as i leave that room, or any other place of comfort i am like a turtle escaping into my shell, not wanting to brave the harsh world out there. So apparently i have to work on that, she is having me write down every distorted thought i have about myself down, and then i have to write why the feeling arose and a counter statement against it. Apparently it is to teach me to reorganize my thinking, or something.

It's just that sometimes i feel like i am in a bubble. I am equipped with all the tools to survive outside that bubble, but i can't find the incentive to leave. I see everything that is outside of the bubble, things i want to touch and possess, but i am unsure of how i well i will do outside the walls. It's safer here in my own thoughts, i don't know how i would survive outside of that. It's kind of scary.

We'll see what happens.

Time to go study.Lately i have dreaming about on "Inside the Actors Studio". I have just always wanted James Lipton to ask those 10 famous questions. But since appearing on his show may take a while, the blog world will do just fine.

What is your favorite word? Home
What is your least favorite word? Fa**ot( i couldn't even spell. I hate that word so much)
What turns you on [creatively, spiritually or emotionally]? The moments in between.
What turns you off? Anger
What is your favorite curse word? Son of a Bitch
What sound or noise do you love? Purring Cats...no wait...genuine Laughter. Definitely Laughter
What sound or noise do you hate? Doors slamming
What profession other than your own would you like to attempt? Journalist
What profession would you not like to do? Dentist
If Heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the Pearly Gates? See, I told you it wasn't that bad. Welcome home Kid.

Answers are subject to change later on in life though.

Puddle of Drool.

Oh.....MY....GOD.....

So today was the first day of the semester. I'm not feeling as anxiety ridden as last semester. No mental or emotional breakdowns are in the near future. Regardless of my optimistic view on the new semester, and perhaps more self confident that I'm going to be okay...i was hella nervous when my alarm clock woke me up this morning.

They day started out a little rough when i decided to watch 5 more minutes of Today, because i was sure i knew where Biology class was.

Of course when i get there, even though i know the building like the back of my hand, i couldn't find the stupid room. I ran up and down the halls, down and up the stairs, passing every room except the one i needed.

I soon realized i couldn't find the room because i was in the wrong building. On our schedule my school abbreviates all the buildings(because they have ridiculously long names), and i got CLS and CSSC mixed up when i briefly looked at it last night.

So with what seemed like 5 minutes(really 10) i ran to the library to look up where the building was only to realize that I had been to that building about a million times.

My biology class is of course HUGE. The teacher seems nice though, i feel kind of confident that i can do well in this class, because really the only part of Biology i like is the cell part, which is what the whole class is about.

I had to take a seat in the front row though, and i ended up sitting next to a kid who made the weirdest noises throughout the lecture. I didn't know if he had some kind of medical conditions or if he was just fidgety. Whatever the case I'm hoping we part ways next lecture.

Then i had Ochem. I really don't want to talk about Ochem. Everyone says the class is horrible, the teacher is horrible, and at this point i tend to agree. He seems nice, but i think he slipped some alcohol into his coffee cup. Slurred speech, laughing at stupid things, forgetting basic chemistry. Hey...I'd rather deal with a happy drunk professor than a angry one.

And then...after a short poster sale, nap, and lunch...I had English. Recently i have decided to change my major...AGAIN. But this one will stick. I can't stand psychology, i can't risk doing just average in Biology, so my best bet really is just to major in English. The only class i really get respect in is from my English teachers, who comment on my writing. So I'm taking a chance with this.

I had heard that the professor for this class was really hot. The class is some kind of theory class, which is bound to be hard because we aren't really going to be reading any novels. But i didn't want to take a psychology class, and his class was the only one open. PLUS...hotness factor.

Now last semester i planned on taking a philosophy class based on reviews of the teachers hotness. But a last minute decision to take English diverted me from seeing his hotness. Mike took the class though, and apparently whoever thought this teacher was hot was "blind"(his words not mine). The teacher ended up being a dud and a jerk.

So i was a little hesitant to listen to another "hot" remark. Of course even though i was skeptical, i was patiently awaiting his arrival, along with a bunch of other girls in that class.
Every potential hot face that entered into the room, i thought was our teacher.

At exactly two o'clock, a figure strutted into the room. You could hear a pin drop. It was like slow motion all of a sudden, i suddenly heard the Missy Elliot song "Hot Boyz" flood the room, as we all scanned him from toe to head.

Leather shoes, expensive dirty jeans, a leather bond shoulder book bag,a checkered shirt which was unbuttoned right at the part where it would have been R-rated if another buttoned would have come undone(no undershirt underneath).

But the face...OH...the face. If Brad Pitt had a half brother, it would be this guy. He's really macho, and looks almost rugged looking. His face had that "i haven't shaved in a couple of days" thing going on and he was tanned(natural i believe), he had on the cutest glasses ever, and he smiled as if he just did something deliciously bad.

I think i may have heard some one's uterus drop on the floor.

After the initial shock of professor John(who doesn't want to be called Mr._______ because it sound like a dad), he began the lecture. He curses, slams the universities English program as being too Conservative, and talks about The Clash as if they are God...I think i may be in love with my professor.

Okay I'm not in love, but jeez he was the hottest thing i have ever seen.

After getting over his hotness, wiping up the drool that had landed on my desk, and watching the girl pick up her uterus, i became painfully aware of the course load i have this year.

He says the class will make us learn how to think and that it won't be easy. By the end of the semester we will probably hate him(not that face though), but he expects us to try our hardest to open our minds to theory.

That's pretty much what all my professors said today. The workload, the workload, and more of the workload. I'm concerned, excited, and already exhausted...i will have to push myself more than ever.

I'll have to cut back on playing the Sims, and watching endless hours of TV, and i may even have to read the chapters before and after i go to class.

But i think i can do it. Well...i hope so.

Time to study or something. Tomorrow i look forward to Math and another English class, therapy, and my first day back to work since break.

It appears i may need another vacation, i'm still trying to convince my mom against Vegas. A vacation to Philadelphia would be nice.

Golden Star.

So I'm back at school. To my messy dorm, three very different roommates, and signs of procrastination already.

But I'm happy. I couldn't stand staring at my brother all day, as i camped out in the living room watching endless hours of TV, while dancing to my ipod with my cat. What? My cats love dancing, or at least they tolerate twirling them around in my arms.

My schedule of course is looking pretty brutal. Two English classes(I'm changing my major), Ochem(dear god i hope i survive), Genetics(I hope i stay awake) and a math class(which i wish was a history class).

I of course have done the "I'm going to study more, do my homework, and study every night before bed"thing...but not wanting to lie to myself I'll just wait out the semester and see what happens.

I'm incredibly tired though, from moving in all my stuff, to buying books, and trying to clean up the mess that was my room yesterday. I'm not even nearly done recycling all the paper that has just been lying around my room. If there is one thing i have to stop doing this semester it would have to be drawing on every last piece of paper that crosses my path.

My doodling has left me with pieces of papers full of faces, houses, butterflies, and flowers.

So today is pretty much a cleaning up day. Trashing all of last years stuff to make way for what is to come...

The golden globes is coming on tonight, and am literally too excited for words.

Forget the Grammys, The Oscar, The Tonys, or the Emmy's. I don't even count such awards as the MTV Video/Movie awards. The only award show i look forward too is the Golden Globes.

Since i began my screenwriting attempts, the golden globes is like the gold at the end of the rainbow.

I usually don't practice award speeches, glamorous stance and wave, or smiles in the mirror...except golden globe time. If i was to ever become a screenwriter, it would be the highlight of my career.

I imagine:

Wearing a beautiful gown, green or cream, vintage, short, sweet and sexy.My hair, falling just under my ear would be simple, so it doesn't take away from my makeup and necklace(DIAMONDS!!!).

I would be nominated for either a adaptation or original screenplay.

I would undoubtedly be the newcomer, the underdog for winning such an award so early into my career. But the odds are in my favor, small indie praise, leading to further attention from critics and media alike has led attention to me. The small girl, just graduating from college has taken Hollywood by storm, and by marketing myself as director, writer, and entrepreneur i have become one of the most watched new comer of the new year.

I would show up with my rumored boyfriend Zach Braff( we met at Sundance, but we're just "friends") or Gavin Degraw(because I'm big on rock stars. Sufjan would never go to the Globes, he doesn't seem like that kind of guy) or Ryan Gosling(because he is awesome) but a good safe bet would just to bring my mother along, because she has never seen BIG STARS before.

I would be humbled by all the faces i see. Tom hanks, will be as nice as everyone says he is. Halle Berry will be as beautiful as everyone says she is. And i will spot Brad Pitt from a distant but i am not as excited to see him.

Inside, i will be to nervous to eat or drink. I will be greeted with people who wish me luck on being nominated and say how much they like my work, and that they are looking forward to what else i have to show.

I will get nervous and like a school girl around Jake Gyllenhaal, Leonardo Dicaprio, and/or Will Smith.

I will remark on how beautiful Kate Winslet is, and how much i love Diane Keaton.

My mom will undoubtedly try to get me to introduce her to Matt Damon, or Johnny Depp.

It would be the most wonderful night in the whole entire world. And if i don't win, i would work hard on my next project so i would be invited back.

But if i did win...I imagine, tears, some rambling, and possibly fainting.

But that's just in my dreams, until then i don't mind watching from my room.

time to clean.

New Addition.

I've watched too much TV since i have been home.

From Dr. Keith, Maury, some jackass named Greg Bernhardt(???. He wrote the book He's just not that into you. Why did they give him a show),Rachel Ray(don't get me started) and The View, i feel like my mind has been fried.

It's not even that TV is addictive, it's just that you catch the craziest things while browsing the channels.

I wish i was one of those people who say crap like "i don't watch television", which is usually followed by, "but when i do watch television, i like Lost, Grey's Anatomy, Ugly Betty..." and the list goes on.

Perhaps i am a product of the times. Sure my imagination alone covers most of my entertainment necessity during the day,but i am still just a product of TV, and if i am not curled up with a favorite read, than a remote is usually in my hand.

But as of late TV has begun to bore me. Donald and Rosie's feud, Maury's baby daddy drama, bald Dr. Keith and his useless advice, have resorted to me turning off the destructive tube and clawing my eyeballs from sheer boredom.

Okay it isn't that bad,but you get the picture. I may be ready to go back to school now.

Marie finally got in touch with me after calling the house phone instead of my cell phone(sneaky, sneaky), and i may be going to a baby shower for her sister today.

Marie's older sister Jessica is to Marie as my brother is to me. Except that even though i don't like my brother half of the time, I don't hate him as Marie hates her sister.

Regardless of their tension, Marie likes her nephew and is taking an interest in the new addition to her sisters family, a baby girl .

I feel utterly bad if i go though, because my brother is having a baby...and well, lets just say there is no Baby shower in the works.

The reason i haven't talked about the baby, is because my brother rarely does. He still walks around as if this isn't a life changing addition to the family. He has a new girlfriend, he still does what he wants to, and seems oblivious to the fact that a baby will be here in 3 months.

My mom is putting her grandma in training sessions to use. Dragging me to the baby section of every store. Pointing out how good this looks, how important this is for the baby, yadda yadda yadda. And we are even sending a care package. Full of essential baby goods, and things for the mother(she's in Michigan)

I can't help but feel a little hesitant to the new addition. I don't doubt that i will totally be fond of him. I imagine trips to Toys R' Us, parks, and a very proud me at his kindergarten graduation.

But i wish his entry into our family was greeted with a colorful baby shower. That something as small as a baby shower celebrating his arrival could visually show what me and mom feel inside. That we are generally awaiting the many birthday's, smiles, laughter, and presence with us.

I guess i'll have a lifetime to make it up to him.

EXTRA EXTRA!!!!

Last semester i made a failed attempt to join my schools quarterly magazine. It was during my September hiatus from the blog world, and I literally made an overnight decision to head to one of their meetings.

Me and journalism have always kind of been intertwined. When i was younger i swore i was a detective and prowled the streets of New Rochelle trying to uncover any mystery.The weird smell that came from apartment 3b, my British English teacher who i swore was having an affair with my hot math teacher, and the pet store i swore was poisoning the hamster.

I had an old type writer and everything. All i needed was a newsboy cap(which i think are the cutest ones ever, I've only been able to find the conductor style hats.), and 1940's kind of attitude, and new threads and i would have made the perfect little journalist.

10 years later and my attitude has changed quite a bit, sure i still think one of the biology teachers at my university may be Satan's spawn, and the library may be haunted, but i shoved my detective skills in the back burner.

But in September i decided to take a chance at it. I couldn't submit myself to another Amnesty meeting with the ever glaring Katherine, Art boys meetings disbanded, and i wanted to do something.

The quarterly magazine seemed like the best fit. Newspaper is too boring, and the magazine only comes out twice a year, making the deadlines a little more flexible

But when i arrived it was as if i had stepped into a weird 1940's newspaper movie. Every was jazzed(yes jazzed) at creating a superb magazine; full of generic topics and over enthused freshman.

I of course felt out of place, not within my element(whatever that is) , especially when they asked for a portfolio of our work.

?????

I soon crept out through the exit door i was sitting next too, and put the experience behind me.

But i can't help but want to pull out my newsboy cap one more time. Perhaps in the spirit of the new year, or because I am getting closer to graduation, i want to have done something at this school before i leave it.

And I've always kind of wanted to see my name in print.

I haven't a clue what i would write about as long as it was something dear to my heart. Though i am not making any promises to myself, i would at least like to go to another meeting, and stay the whole time.

In other totally unrelated news, my mom wants to go to Las Vegas for our birthday. Though i am turning 21, making it legal for me to drink and gamble...i have never been a fan of Sin City. Something about deserts, drunk people, and legalized prostitution(not in the whole state i don't believe) is kind of a turn off.

She on the other hand sees bright lights, Vegas shows, and pretty shops.

I'd rather go to England

I look pretty dodging bullets.

I wonder how many unanswered phone calls it will take until Marie calls the FBI to locate where i have been hiding.

14 days and counting and i think she may be catching on that i don't wish to talk to her.

If i not hearing about her boyfriend, I'm hearing about her trying not to talk about her boyfriend.

I think it's safe to say that for the time being, ignoring my vibrating phone is for the benefit of my well being.

I'll have to make up some really good excuse when i finally answer my phone:

Perhaps i flew to some third world country to do charitable work and i was too wrapped up in saving the children to answer the phone.

Or, my phone fell in the bath tub(because everyone uses the phone in the bathtub) and i had wait to get my new cell phone.

I got sick from all the cheesecake i ate during the holidays and have spent time recovering.

Or my personal favorite excuse: You called? When? I can barely find the thing in my junky room.

In any case, I'll continue ignoring the many calls that are piling up in my cell phone.

And as long as she doesn't stop in any neighborhood book/coffee/music stores(and occasionally target) than i am safe from being discovered.

Oh, the Places You'll Go!

I'm happy to say that my adapter arrived on Thursday while i was at best buy deciding which new Cd to buy(ended up with Arctic Monkeys).

Luckily my mom was home and the fed ex guy didn't leave the dreaded "sorry you weren't home to pick up your package" note, which i always hate.

The new year so far has treated me fairly, besides the computer meltdown.
In a week i will be returning to school. So far it's the thing i have been looking forward too the most. I have gotten so use to my lovely decorated room full of posters, and i miss it.

This break was not far from family arguments, which i of course I tried desperately to dodge with all my might. Unlike Marie, whose phone calls i can just ignore when i don't feel like hearing how wonderful and great her life is going, it is much harder to hide from the people you live with.

Every year the same conflicts arise...learning how to adjust to the three very different people forming three very different lives under the same roof. As i attempt to develop the strength in my wings to fly, and my mother begins to develop a life apart from her now growing children, my brother seems to be stuck. No matter how many times we extend our hands to help,
he manages to constantly shove it away and do what he pleases.

I'm beginning to wish i had an older sister. Brothers are difficult and i don't think i will ever understand them or at least i won't understand my own brother.

On my growing list of things i wish to accomplish , having a closer bond with my brother is one of them.

This year i have decided not to make resolutions.

1) because i never follow through with them and 2) because then i feel horrible for never falling through with them. Seriously it's like we set ourselves up to feel like crap by week 2 of the new year because we abandoned the diet plan, stop smoking oath, and any other bad habit we wish to break.

Resolutions never seem to be a list of good things we wish to continue doing throughout the new year, but bad things we can't escape from. I have series of bad habits i wish to break.

Bad Habits include:
1) not eating more vegetables
2) really bad study habits(thanks late night tv)
3) Dressing like Mary Kate Olsen
4) obsessing over Rock Stars(Sufi)

And the list can go on.But making a list of the bad habits that need to be change and making a resolution that i will work on them, means i will undoubtedly break them during the year. I'm saving myself from failure in all honesty in just not making one.

But that's just how i see things. I have instead opted to approach the new year a little differently from my old friend Dr. Seuss.

My baby cousin is going to start a program to prepare kids for pre-school . Apparently it's a pre-pre school. My mom is thus sending a care package because she likes sending them. I of course suggested putting in the Dr.Seuss book "Oh, the Places You'll Go", because i heard it was a story designed for every life starting journey.

Surprisingly i have never read this story before, or i don't really remember reading it. I figured I'd check it out at the library first before buying it for her.

For a person who always feels like she is on a journey, i instantly became attached to this book. And so instead of the whole resolution thing, i rather approach the year just as Dr. Seusss writes. Equipped with the goods to go somewhere great, just beginning on the journey to do so.

I mean if Dr. Seuss says i can do it, who i am to question it.

"You have brains in your head.

You have feet in your shoes.

You can steer yourself any direction you choose.

You're on your own. And you know what you know.

And YOU are the guy who'll decide where to go...

So, be your name Buxbaum or Bixby or Bray

or Mordecai Ali Van Allen O'Shea,

you're off to Great Places!

Today is your day!

Your Mountain is waiting.

So...get on your way!"