Last Day...

Today was my last day of Geography and i skipped it because...well it's geography.

So, today also my last day of skipping class. And it felt great.

Today was my last day of Religion. I turned in a ten page term project on Japanese Literature. Because i started the 25% of my grade term project yesterday, i knew i had to pull out all the works to pull up my C average. Let's just say i included PICTURES!!!!! And who doesn't like some embedded pictures and haiku's. Exactly.

Today was my last day of Shakespeare. He returned papers, i drew a butterfly on my arm, and stared for the last time at my very geeky (but nice) Shakespeare teacher try to get some sort of reaction out of us other then "We are bored, can we leave now". I got my last B- on a english paper and my last quiz grade.

Today was my last full day at work. Everyone quit on friday and so there are only a few of us hanging on. in a couple of days i will also have my last day of working in the library, my last conversation with Kathleen, Amanda, and Debbie Downer (thank good). I'll have to celebrate.

And of course, Today was my last day of therapy. Damn. I was nervous just walking in. I felt like bailing, calling the health center and telling them that i couldn't make my scheduled appointment. But, i couldn't do that after all the big changes that have happened in my life.

So i walked there, clutching Rain line (the book i decided to give him) and dreading having to say goodbye. I hate goodbyes. I hate "the end" especially cause it meant so much that he helped me out. I mean i'm still that same person as i was last year or that year before that, but i'm allowing other people to see it, and i don't think i could have gotten to this state without everyone helping me there.

I balled of course like a baby. I was vulnerable and tearful as i said my goodbye, mixed with a few thank you's in between. When i gave him the book, he said i could take anything from his office in return. Interestingly enough i locked eyes with some stone angel whose wings are made out of iron. I'm not religious or anything but the angel was so pretty that i knew it was the thing that i wanted ( i also took an anxiety rock).

What an exhausting Last Day. How is it already the end of the semester. How is it already the end of college life. I feel like i just got here.

i feel so unprepared for the real world. So unprepared and sort of ready.

So This Is What It's Like On The Other Side

As usual with the close of the school year and my impending BIG MOVE in a couple of months....my mom is freaking out.

She is calculating in her head how much this and that is going to cost. Moving to (insert major east coast city that i have not made a decision on yet), down payment on Apartment, turning on things like electricity, phone and my favorite...CABLE. Of course this move to New Haven is a venture all on my own but she knows that she is going to help me as much as she can until i get settled.

My plan as of right now is just to get out of "college town". I am done with this place and cannot see myself spending anymore time than necessary in my horrible small town with the local CVS. I'm still a little iffy on where i particulary want to live. It really depends on where i a) see myself going to grad school or b) where i see myself working.

If i was purely moving for work, New Haven is my ideal place. It's close enough to NYC that i can commute, it has some totally cheap apartments, and some pretty areas where there are parts and stuff (i'm simple). Unfortunately i don't really know anything about New Haven or Connecticut. I have also been doing some research (googling) and there are mixed reviews on the city. I've heard everything from charming town to pompus boresville.

But...because i am going to apply to grad school again, it also might be in my best interest to move where i want to attend school. Some days i want to move to New Haven (close to The New School), other days i'm contemplating Pittsburgh (University of Pittsburgh), Philadelphia (Temple University) and Boston ( Emerson College). I've been to Philadelphia before and ignoring the whole college thing, i LOVED that city.

I plan on moving by the end of August/beginning of September and by then i'll know where my new home is. Trust me the planning stages alone is a headache, and my mom is making it worse with her "concerns". She doesn't know if "we'll" have the money necessary for the move. She doesn't know if "we'll" be ready by then. She has suggested horrible idea(s) to make sure "we" have all the money "we" need by August including getting more money from loan 'friends' but also by dealing with some new pals named credit' and 'card'

Hell. To. The. No.

I sort of cut the conversation short after that. It's weird, she kept saying "we" as if this move was hers. Not just the physical move but how i would get there, what i would do when i get there....yadda, yadda, yadda. I had to remind her (gently) that i am 22, and that the way she would approach things ( borrow money) and the way i would approach things are totally different. I figure if i don't have all the money i need to have by August then i'll stay with my favorite aunt in Westchester. I'm already planning on working like a mad women this summer (even if it kills me) and i'm so cheap as it is, i don't think i'll have problems saving anything.

It's weird to get to a point where you realize you can listen to what your parents have to say but you to agree with them. I think sometimes my mom gives me advice based on how she would approach things. But i sort of want to try things out my own way, make my own decisions about things and see where everything will take me.

I felt all adulty on the phone. Like even though i have no idea what i am doing...about anything, I have the choice to say "oh that's not how i do things. Sorry".

I think i'm finally getting this adult thing down. You're still you, you just get to make all these decisions based on how you want to conduct your life.

Life Lesson Learned For Today.

Fantastic Beginnings....Marginal Execution

Today i met with my medieval masculinity professor because she scheduled some extra office hours so we could discuss our papers with her (which are due tomorrow).

As always i have picked a subject that is a little more than i handle: The medieval quest in Arthurian romances.

We spent more time talking about courtly love, the marriage plot, and feminine/ masculine roles....which all would have been interesting papers to write about. But because i have all of a sudden become a nature fanatic, i wanted to write about the 'nature' of the medieval quest. Get it. Me neither.

Yes I've had about a week to write this paper. And yes i did procrastinate and only have 3 pages down. Way to go.

Luckily my professor has given us the option of taking an extension without penalty (she gave us all the option of using a 'favor' at any time during the semester. Bad quiz grade: you can use your favor to drop the lowest one. Missed too many days: You can use your favor so you won't get penalized)

We only have 1 favor though, and luckily i have not used mine yet. I was going to use it for my lackluster participation grade (10%) and then just turn in my paper on time tomorrow. But I've been struggling this whole week getting my thoughts about the 'quest' onto paper. I figured if i went to her office hours she would at least a) know what my voice sounds like and b) be able to help me with sort of writers block.

I did my weird rambling thing as soon as i went into her office. "The quest means this, and that, and some of this". Apparently my paper isn't as stupid as i thought it was. She was more excited about then me. I think i heard "that is a fantastic paper"about 3 times during our conversation.

She then said "Please. Go. Write Your Paper. Now. I am looking forward to reading your paper".

I might have (cliche coming) killed two birds with one stone on this visit. I've decided to take my extension. The paper is 25% of my overall grade which sort of beats out the 10% for participation. If i can just concentrate long enough to write about Sir Gawain and Yvain i may have an A worthy paper. Something that has been absent from my life this whole semester.

Time for some knights and their stupid quest. Okay it's not stupid, but I'm not feeling this long night.

April Is not The Cruelest Month.

I use to hate April because it seemed like the longest month in the whole entire world. But i must say i sort of respect a month that can make days both sunny and rainy. I don't know whether to bring an umbrella with me in the morning or wear some Bermuda shorts outside and have a picnic. Today it showered for about 15minutes. The sky suddenly got dark, the trees started swaying, and the rain came down. By the time class was over the sun was out and the sky was cloudless. Damn i love April.

Debbie Downer is gone for the week to prepare for her weekend fiesta. No one really understands why she took the whole week off to prepare for something that will only last 2 days, but no one is really complaining at work. Work becomes a different place when Debbie Downer isn't there, as if the warden has left the building and the inmates are allowed to act up.

Unfortunately, Debbie Downer is the maintainer of peace, as ineffectual as she is. I guess we all don't feel like strangling each other in front of her, and something tells me that by the end of this week, in her absence, a fight might go down. Julia is quitting this Friday because the semester is ending and she is heading back to Colorado soon. She has this idea that on Friday she is going to tell Kathleen and Amanda what she really thinks. I just asked her to let me know when she is going to do it, so i can watch from a distance.

Rosa, another girl at work, is thinking about heading to the big guys upstairs, and telling them about the problems that are occurring with Kathleen. I don't know how they are going to deal with "bitchy, rude, and inconsiderate" because some where in the employee manual i don't think sucky attitude is an offense.

I wanted so badly to wage war on them for the last 2 weeks of work, but i saw how much energy Amanda was wasting in being rude to me, i simply didn't want to waste any of mine. Next wednesday is my last day at work (unless i decide to make some extra money in June) and i think being able to say "i never have to come back here again" is revenge enough .

I now of course, have the unfortunate task of finding work for the summer, which is going to be difficult because i have to attend summer session one. After a not so fun time reading depressing books to old people (which was more volunteer than job) i'm actually considering being a camp counselor. For some reason kids like me, and though i don't think it will be easy, i do think it may be fun. I mean who doesn't want to get paid to play kickball and paint pictures. I do.

I am in desperate need of mooluah for the big move in September, and as of right now i don't have enough to buy a plan ticket, yet alone an apartment. I wonder if it is totally okay to be petrified of moving out on my own. Like childhood did not prepare me for things like rent, bills, and job hunting.

Can't think about that now however. I have two papers, a project, and a book to read. The weather outside is so pretty though, my restless feet feel like sitting in the sun.

"Some Assembly Required"

I've been rolling around with this phrase all day, "Some Assembly Required". I'm thinking it should be the title of some quirky book. Perhaps my quirky book if i can ever get around to it. I have an interest in Creative nonfiction all of sudden, because now i finally understand the formula.

Write about your life. Anything about your life. The funny, the not so funny, or just the plain weird. People like reading about other people's experiences. They like comparing and relating stories. I'm good at doing that, i just didn't appreciate the genre until now.

I've put fiction to the side for a while and started writing some pieces about my life. The stories are mainly from my childhood which has greatly shaped my views of everyday things. So far I've got the tentative titles for two separate stories "Slut" and "Church Hopping", which i think i may even submit next year for graduate school

On the graduate school application they asked me to plan out what i wish to accomplish while i was there. Did i have some work i planed on completing? Was there a piece of work that i wanted to work on in school? And of course i couldn't answer that question adequately, i didn't even have a portfolio yet alone some body of work that i wanted to complete there.

But as slowly write some notes down in my notebook, the body of work I've never had is coming together. Stories and snip-its from my childhood to present day me are unfolding, into these funny and intimate look at my life. I'm having to place some of the pieces together of course, fill in the blanks where holes have come up, but for the most part it has been pretty relieving to situate stories and make peace with them.

Unlike the fiction stories i have been writing, i feel like these stories are going somewhere. They are taking shape and have potential. I'm on to something, or it's at least on to me.

"Some Assembly Required"

By Beckett Hughes

I could live with that title.

Anyway.

A while ago Debbie Downer asked me if i wanted to get some sushi with her and her friends at the end of April. Despite telling Debbie that i don't like fish, she continued to pester me until i gave in and said yes. By friends of course she meant the people from the weird message board she writes on. And by sushi she meant sushi, a weekend picnic, and dinner.

She has been talking about this thing for months. A gang of her "friends" coming down to have "fun" for the whole weekend at some festival where all the other cool 41 year old bitter women go . Sorry about that, but it's the truth.

A lot of people where suppose to come down but 3 or so people are actually coming (from Canada) to hang out with her at some Celtic festival we are having in town. I never intended to go, and continued to just let Debbie Downer talk about the festival. I must have been ignoring her when she said "WE are going to have so much fun" because i was completely taken aback when she told me that all of her friends were excited that i was coming along, and they were looking forward to meeting me.

?????

I knew if i didn't tell her soon, i would be in some sushi restaurant trying not to stab my eyes out next to some weird dude with a bad haircut and Debbie Downer talking about depressing stuff.

So on Tuesday when she told me she was reserving a table at the sushi place i just happened to blurt out that i "had other plans". Debbie Downer almost flipped her lid...in that passive aggressive sort of way. "Why don't you want to go? My "friends" will be sad" "you are such a chicken" "You can't make time for me".

What i wanted to say was "NO i can't make time for you. I don't want to make time for you. I have my own things going on, and I'm sorry if they don't include sushi and bad conversation"

But instead i just stuck to the "i have something else to do".

I keep wondering why i attract people who are "complicated". Not in that good complicated way, but in that " i need you to be the person i tell all my secrets too" sort of complicated. I am like a therapist to people, they come to me to unload all their drama on and then i comfort them the best that i can.

The problem with this is that i don't know why my role is outside of those relationships. I'm so use to hearing other people problems, i don't know what it's like to have just a companionship.I brought this up in therapy today. Like maybe there is a part of me that needs those people. I mean i know what they get from me ( a good shoulder to cry on) but what do i get from them?

And i think what i get from "needy people" is a model of what i don't want for my life. I felt sort of bad admitting this to my Dr. Phil. Like perhaps that makes me a horrible person. But it really is the only thing i get from these relationships, a model of someone who is worse off then i am. But that sort of relationship is not fulfilling. It's toxic and draining. And the things we get from each other...well they aren't too good.

I can't form of my model of a good life, when it is fogged up with these relationships. Some days, when i have had a good conversation, or a nice song comes on my ipod i can feel a sense of calm come over me. I can feel what happiness is like, and it begins with changing the role i have had, around so that i be a good friend as well as a good listener.

Maybe i can even find a happy medium.

You know, if i knew being an adult was going to be this hard i wouldn't have signed up for it. I would have just stayed a kid forever, sipping juice from boxes and eating animal crackers in bed.

I'm just saying.

It's a lot of work to put the pieces of what i want for my life together, so i have this sweet and fulfilling thing to enjoy.

Some how "Some Assembly Required" makes perfect sense for the title of my book.

Coffee Talk

Everyday i drink coffee. Not particularly because i like the taste (which i do) or tearing sugar packets and shaking it in my drink (which i do) or that the first sip is always the best part of morning (which it is). But i need the caffeine to work, go to class, study and write long ass papers about Masculine roles in Shakespeare.

Even though i have coffee in my room, i still go to Starbucks everyday while i am at work. Coffee and a muffin are what get me through the day. It's a self serving coffee place so i just hand the lady my card, get my receipt and the get CAFE VERONA everyday.

Yesterday while i was pouring the coffee in my drink i noticed that i always get CAFE VERONA which is described as "sweet & complex". I thought this was the funniest thing, like "hey look at me drinking a coffee that pretty much describes my personality". The other coffee's have descriptions like mild, vibrant and cultural, lively and well balanced. As i was pouring sweet and complex into my cup, i started regretting being sweet and complex. I am trying to get to a point where i am lively and well balanced, the part of me which anxiety hides.

Sweet and Complex is cool and all but sometimes i want to try out what Lively and Well-Balanced feels like or at least what it tastes like.

After a late night of writing and drinking some Sweet and Complex, which i brought back to my dorm, i woke up determined to try out some Lively and Well balanced when i got to work today.

And lets just say....a war is now going on in my stomach. Sweet has got Lively in a motherf*cking choke-hold and Well balanced is stomping all over Complex's ass.

Lesson of the day, don't try to mix the two, for stomach ache will soon follow.

The Intimidator.

One time when i was in Philadelphia i was walking down the street enjoying the nice weather when i passed this older gentlemen. I shot him a smile and instead of giving me the "what the hell are you looking at" stare he smiled back and said "you look just like a baby doll".

Unfortunately that wasn't the first time I've heard that. I have be called "cute" and "adorable" so many times i'm going to start charging people. At 22, you don't particulary want to be considered "cute". Save that for a kitten. And i don't say this in jest. Whenever i am brave enough to post baby pics you'll see what I'm talking about. Once you look past the crazy unruly hair, all you see is me with a baby doll face and a huge grin. I was always small for my age (short women, tall men in my family) and all my features are proportionate to my frame. Small nose, almond shaped eyes, and a pouty mouth.

To the naked eye i am the perfect person to take advantage of, "cute"=naive=unassuming=and adorable, which is probably why i have put up a tough exterior. I know people will mistake my appearance for meekness and before they can do that i turn my pouty mouth into a scowl and shot daggers from my almond shaped eyes.

But I might have taken this tough exterior thing a little far. Yes i am very guarded, yes i am sometimes a hard ass towards the guys that i like, but it's all for protection against....being taken advantage of.

I trust women right of the back (which necessarily isn't a good thing). I am open and friendly, funny and smart. I don't feel uneasy around women, and don't feel the need to protect myself. I don't have to many male figures in my life, which is probably the cause for my unease around them. I am guarded around guys, and retreat into a very safe shell. I am not cold to all guys of course, but just to some (the ones i have a crush on and teachers for some reason). And i think it has a lot to do with my own sort of ...issues. I'm at a loss for this one, i must say. I don't know how to make the unease go away yet, but i am trying one day at a time.

My mom jokes around with me, about my cold shoulder to men. She calls me "the intimidator", because i have given my male teachers a hard time in the past. I get the cute thing all the time, i get the "you need to be taken care of" thing more than i can count. I get the "let me do it for you sweetie". And though sometimes it's nice, it's a little bit too much for me. I don't like being perceived as baby doll. I don't want to be slung over any one's shoulder and carried away to some cave. So i put up a shield, even if it isn't necessary. I'm just guarded. I really don't mean too. But once again...I'm working on it.

I've have mentioned MrMc.Not-So-Bad-Of-A--Guy-But-Questionable-As-A-Professor many times. I admit i was a hard ass in his class because a) he really was boring and b) because he tore my work up like the rent was due. It also didn't help that i thought he was hot shit before i signed up for his class. Setting my crush aside for the semester, i tried with all my might not to be an intimidator, but that didn't work out so well. Even after the really cool conversation we had about my short story, i still went to his class every day with a scowl. I still felt like he was a douche bag for tearing my paper apart, and i still thought he was boring as hell.

But I'm not in his class anymore. He's not my professor anymore, and so my wall has come down, and when i see him on the street i actually have a desire to say stuff to him. I have all these writing questions, and a general interest in his work. I have seen him several times in the last couple of months, walking down the street or in passing in a hallway. He usually gets out of from me real quickly so that i can't even say hi. At at first thought was just some fluke, maybe he didn't see him.

But after today, i think i really do scare the shit out of him.

Me and Julia (another co-worker) where taking a long break in front of an aisle. She talks a lot, and for some reason i actually don't mind. She's really bubbly and animated, and when you're shelving books all day hearing an excited voice is what you need.

We were talking about school, post grad concerns, loans, and D&G bags, when i noticed some disheveled dude walking past the elevators. It didn't take too long to see that it was MrMc.ExDreamy and i silently cursed under my breath. In a scene from "You are being so obvious" he nonchalantly walked to the re-shelving area in the library (which is where the books that need to be shelved live until we get to them. We have a re-shelving area on every floor). Because it's been a slow couple of weeks, few books are on the re-shelving area which mean we do less shelving them usual. Now unless he was looking for books on American currency (the only 2 books on the re-shelving area where he was standing ) he was obviously eavesdropping. Which i didn't particularly didn't mind.

I don't know how long he was standing there, "glancing" at the books, but after a while i saw him pass the elevators again in front of where Julia and I were sitting on the floor. As he passed, he looked over at us. Clearly there was eye contact. Clearly he saw me there sitting, and i figured "this is my chance to say hi".

So i waved at him and smiled. I don't know if you've ever seen the 2nd Addams family movie where Wednesday and Pugsley go to summer camp but there is this moment where Wednesday smiles, with the encouragement from her camp counselor. As soon as she manages to lift the corners of her mouth into a smile the camp goers gasp in horror. When i waved at him, it was sort of like that. He seemed frightened and then disappeared quickly behind some aisles. I was kind of in shock, I've never seen so much fear in one man.

And this was not just some trick of the eye. Julia turned to see who i was waving too and then gave me a look that read "do you know that guy cause he totally just ignored you".

Jesus. I didn't know i intimidated guys that bad. For such a "baby doll" appearance i sure do put fear in dudes.

What a hot weirdo that MrMc. Exdreamy is. Or maybe it's just me.

Holy....Moses!

I'm taking a religion class this fall, and it's pretty boring.



The professor is really old and nice. He comes into class with those old jackets that have the suede things on the elbow. Every time walks around the classroom or sits on the desk, there is like a collective gasp from us, as if he is going to die right then and there.



I sort of have interest in Buddhism and I thought the class would be of some good use to my heathen soul. There are days when i am completely captivated by the class, and then there are days when i would rather be drinking a coffee at Starbucks. Depends on the day i guess.



The professor has a TA for one of his intro religion classes, who occasionally sits in with our class when he has nothing else to do (or for shadowing purposes). You can tell that he looks up to our professor and hopes to be in his place one day.

I cannot begin to explain how hott this TA is. I MEAN HOTT. I usually don't go for the clean cut guys, preferring the messy sort of thing, but i would make an exception for Jordan. Oh Jordan. He's this tall, dirty blond haired dude who wears glasses. He has this definitive masculine face that you can't help but view as gorgeous, but the whole glasses thing makes him even more attractive, because he hides behind them. Like SUPERMAN. He's exactly like Clark Kent, sort of nerdy looking but you know once he takes off the glasses he's a hottie.

He's built too, like he's a runner or something. It's the weirdest thing to see this incredibly hot dude wanting to teach religion. I'm not saying all religious figures should be asexual creatures, but it's problematic when Brad Pitt wants to teach me about the Lord when I'm thinking "roll, roll, roll in the hay". I embarrass myself sometimes.

So, the professor wasn't there today because he had to go to some conference. He told us on Wednesday that Jordan would cover for him and go over the first two chapters in the Hiroshima book we are reading. I thought no one was going to show up today, for the sheer fact that no professor usually equals no class.

But when i walked in, a handful of girls had gotten there early, and the class was not as empty as i thought it was going to be. Jordan came in wearing some khaki's and a blue dress shirt. And though no uterus's dropped on the floor, i heard some heart's fluttering.

He actually did a good job. He admitted he knew nothing about Hiroshima (which i think was a ploy to start a class discussion), and asked people for their reactions to the bombing. He was thoughtful, interesting, and looked real good sitting in front of the class. He'd put his hand on his chin whenever someone talked, like he was taking in every word, and when someone said something he really like he would say "thank you for sharing with us, and opening up".

He's like a dream.

He started reading from an article that our professor wrote when he visited Hiroshima in the late 70's. Even his voice was heavenly. I think I'm in love, along with the other girls in the class. There has to be something in the rules about fantasizing about a religion teacher in training.

Anyway.

Today i found the best book in the library. In between shelving books i do run across some that i add on my "things to read this summer" list. Incidentally after my lustful dreams for Jordan i came across a book called "Misfit Sisters: Screen Horror as Female Rites of Passage".

It's a motherf*cking discussion about the similarities between Fairy Tales and Horror Movies. I'm in love. My two favorite genres clumped into one book and analyzed by some lady named Sue Short. So far she is doing a amazing job. I mean i have never looked at women's role in horror movies and fairy tales as some passage to adulthood. It's flipping awesome.

I have two papers and one project due next week and yet i see the majority of my weekend spent reading this book.

I'd check it out if i was you.

Biking It.

I was sitting in class during a very boring linguistics presentation and all of a sudden i thought:

I want a bicycle!!!!

A very weird thought to have indeed but every since then i have thought of nothing else.

I use to ride a bike a lot when i was younger. I mean who didn't have a wicked awesome bike that you rode around on, with a gang of your friends by your side. I learned how to ride pretty early because i grew up with a house full of boys who never wanted to stay home.

It was like a vehicle for those 12 and under who weren't old enough to even think about driving a car. Lately my feet has been itching again (and not in that "you probably need to see a doctor about that" kind of way), to go somewhere, and do something... and maybe biking well ease the tension until i can travel.

Though i still love being an homebody and having my oasis from the outside, I've been wanting to hang out in the sun more. To be more active than i am now, to start peddling or running or something. The days are getting more beautiful, the weather is warming up, and suprisingly i don't want to stay in inside. I want to lounge out in the sun, read a book under the tree, go someone where really far, and swim.

I want to be active. Not inactive like my favorite person to bitch about DEBBIE DOWNER. A while back (and by a while i mean November) Debbie Downer asked me to join some social networking website that she has joined a year earlier.

She's on this thing everyday. It's set up that there are several discussion threads posted by members of the site. These threads range from movie, politics, to stupid stuff. The memebers post back and forth to each other daily, gaining points and status for their participation. It's suppos to be fun and interesting. It's a mix between IM, Myspace, and Facebook, except not as popular among many people.

She kept asking me and asking me to join, until eventually i did. I don't really participate on the website, except for a writing a few blog entries about my funny run in's on campus with people. But that's it. Every time i go into the office it's "You haven't been on the website in a while" "My friend (on the website) really likes what you wrote. He told me. I think he likes you."

It's weird. To me blogging and social networking sites are two different things. I'm giving an almost daily documentation of my life. I mean this is me down to the nitty gritty. Everyone who blogs is writing about their lives and there is just something real in that. I can connect to people in the blog world because we are all sort of telling our stories. Boring, interesting, funny and sad.

Her world on that website, is so fanciful. Like she doesn't have this life outside of chat rooms. While she has formed "friendships" on that website, i just don't understand it. I talk about my life on this blog, but her life seems to be that website.

I admit my critiques about Debbie Downer are sometimes harsh. She always says that I am just like her, which bugs me, but she has a point. When i look at Debbie Downer, i see what can happen to me if i don't take some risks in my life. If i just settle for okay. Debbie Downer is this victim to life. Any time something bad happens it's because "well that's the way it's always been". Any time something good happens "it's not going to last long"

And last week she said "I'm not a negative person. I'm just Scot Irish. We are all like that".
???? I was so offended, because i really doubt all Scot Irish people are like that. It's an impossibility.

I've been a little distant from her these last couple of weeks because she is everything i don't want to be. I mean everything i despise. If you looked up "Beckett's worst nightmare" a definition of Debbie Downer would be there. A victim, pessimistic, afraid, ridden with excuses, allowing life to pass her by.

I'm an introverted person, I've realized that, but sometimes i want to dabble outside of that. Sometimes i want to break free and do something without restraints or care.

April has been a weird month so far. Some days it is so beautiful outside i want to swim in a lake or Rollerblade, other days it so rainy and cloudy i want to curl up with a book or run in the rain. And i guess April is representative of the balance i want. I want to love all the homebody stuff with the incorporation of activities "out there". I just don't want to waste away like Debbie. Euthanize me if i begin to show signs.

So I think i might get a bike. I use to hate the bike riders around campus. They are usually going too fast and are too close to running people over. My arch nemesis from last summer had a bike, and i was tempted every day to.....never mind. But today as i was walking back to my dorm, i was like "I want one". I want to be a bike rider.

Marie bought a bike her freshman year. She was convinced that she was going to use this thing everyday. I went with her when she bought it. I rode through the store with the thing as people looked on. I felt good on it. Marie also bought a basket and a horn (i swear to bob), i still haven't forgiven her for that.

She didn't use it that whole year, and eventually left the bike at her mom's house. But i can see myself using this thing, especially because i am still driving license free. New Haven probably has a lot of trails for me to ride on, i minus well get some practice in. I won't be sporting any horns or baskets though, but i need to pick out good bike. I saw some girl on one of those really thin ones, and i fell in love instantly, but mountain style bikes aren't bad either.

I wonder how much these things are?

Time for homework, after a good nap.

Summer School Again...

I thought taking a crap load of summer classes last summer (4 to be exact) would mean that i would have this whole summer to myself. My brother is finally about to move out, and my mom and I are turing his room into a study. A STUDY!!!! I haven't had a summer to myself for a long while. I mean if i'm not in school, i'm at home waiting to go back to school. It would be so nice to be able to read a book, lounge around, lay in the sun, go to the beach, write a story or finally get my damn driving lisence so i can drive some where. Anywhere.

I'm okay with not going to graduate school next semester. At first i was crushed about rejection but then i tried to put a positive spin on it. The time off will give me the time to create a portfolio, get some work experience, or travel. Travel being the big one.

I know time off sucks for some people, i assumed it would even suck for me, but i'm looking forward to a nonstatic life. It will do me some good, i can tell. I really don't have any experience with anything, and even if i end up hating the nonschool life, i'll know why i hated it. I won't have some regret that i didn't take the time off.

Moving is a little frightening. I don't know nothing about new haven. I gotta get a job before someone will rent me an apartment. And did i mention i know nothing about new haven. I also have to have the money to move. Which at this point i'm not even close to having. I keep wavering between moving to CT or possibly traveling for a couple of months. They have all these post grad work abroad opprotunities. And once i get past the Eli Roth inspired fear of traveling, this could be a huge and interesting path for me.

I want to travel. I need to travel. But then again, all the issues i have with moving to Ct, sort of apply to traveling abroad. Money, loan repayments, and where the hell am i going to live.

I was planning on getting some bookstore job at home. Trust me, i don't particulary like the thought of selling a book to someone i knew from high school, and then having to explain "no, i graduated college, i'm just working for the summer until i...move to CT/go overseas." But i need the money, which means i have to work, even if it's in the bookstore.

I was planning on taking two Maymester classes (which are only 3 weeks long). I would then be able to work in June, July, August, graduate at the beginning of August and then start the process of....living.

So today i had to sign up classes, but when i tried to sign up for 2 classes during the Maymester session i was DENIED. Apparently you can only take one class during maymester, but i need 2 humanties to graduate. Whats the point of taking one class in maymester, and another class in June. So now i have to take 2 classes during June, convoluting my plans just a little more. I swear this school wants to keep me here, and put me in more debt than i already am.

I guess it could be worse. And i do generally like the hot summer days in this college town. The gym will be empty, i can attempt to get into shape before summer lets out. I can possibly work at the bookstore on campus which may pay more and also have bundles of magazines for me to look at on my breaks.

And the two classes i have signed up for have something to do with Art. Pretty pictures, pretty teachers.

I can live with that.

Anyway.

I've started a pro/con list for moving and traveling. It isn't going so well. I want there to be this happy medium when i graduate. That i can magically find a cheap, afforable place to live, and work in a job that i don't hate (I'm looking at some publishing companies and art gallery's). If i acted on instinct alone, i would travel, use all the money that i have saved and plan to save and go to Scotland. But....reality is saying that i am not planning that out well. I don't want to spend any more time than i have to at home, and though the experience of being in Europe for a while would be...AMAZING, i think i can find a way to travel and live in Connecticut. I just have to a) have patience and B) make some decisions.

Decisions, Decisions, Decisions and i am not close to any sound answer.

Hazey Jane

So i cried in therapy...again. Because i suck at life, am too emotional, and all that jazz.

I was discussing my problems at work (which are almost too trival to discuss anymore.), my disasstifaction with Debbie Downer coming to me with all her Debbie Downer Shit:
I mea
DD: How was your weekend
Me: I'm a little tired. School work is piling up, i'm not getting much sleep
DD: We'll at least you aren't taking care of my sick dog, whose eye was always knawed off by a vicious dog.
Me:??????? Have a good morning "Debbie"

I'm frustrated with being the therapist everyone comes to talk to. I think everyone has this idea that i don't have problems. Just because i don't come out and say "hey i have anxiety" everytime i see someone. It doesn't mean that i'm swimming in a pool of issues though.

Sometimes i feel like i'm to blame for my social problems. Like i've already determined my role as therapist that i don't know how to be vunerable in front of people. I don't know how to be wanted or cared for.


I then told my therapist that i think Debbie Downer is a coward. She had the chance to stick up for me (when Kathleen was all up in my face) and didn't do anything. That even though i listen to her bullshit every day, she didn't even have the balls to back me up.

I have that problem a lot. I seem to invest myself in people, who don't invest themselves in me. I listen, i take in, i absorb, and then i am left alone if i have something to say. I have no one to defend me. Not that i need someone to, but i guess i'm sick of fighting battles myself. "A Defender is what i need" I joked "it would be nice".

Then i told him a story from when i was in the 6th grade. The Story aboout Jane.

Jane was a girl in my grade who had this stunning face and long black hair who also suffered from some form of mental retardation. She didn't attend any academic classes with us but she took things like gym and home ec with us.

This was at a time when i had a shitload of friends and i didn't have to worry about finding a group of people in gym to hang out with. It always sucked when it came time to find a group and no one wanted Jane to join. She use to stand there in the corner looking on at the rest of us who immediatly divided off into the comfort zone of a familiar face.

I admit, i was one of those kids too who didn't particular want Jane on our flag football team. We knew she would slow us down or either be the weakness on our team that the other plays would attack.

What no one knew outside of school, was that i had walked with Jane to school several times during the year. For some reason though i lived about 7 blocks from Issac E Yong, i had to walk to school because the bus didn't stop at my place. Ran, sleet or snow (Lots of snow) i walked past the nice houses, loading dock, pub and corner store just to get to school. Depending on the mood i would either wait for my brother or walk by myself to the middle school every day.

On the way, i would encounter Jane and her mother, who usually walked her from their apartment building. One day out of chance probably, i ended up talking to Jane's mother and took on the task (occasionally) of walking her to school.

It wasn't anything big. She didn't say much, she just smiled lopsidely and grinned as i talked my head off about stupid stuff. When she did speak it was very minimal but i didn't mind. She sort of grew attached to me, which didn't bother me too much. Unless it came to gym. At 12 you aren't really thinking about doing the right thing, but rather just about fitting in and having friends....even if that means turning away JANE.

At our school, you had to wait outside in the mornings until the bell rang. It was a huge school (castle like) , and the mornings where the best times for get togethers. We divided ourselves between the 6th, 7th, and 8th graders and me and my friends would look on at the hot 8th graders in the corner, who seemed like gods to us.

I always got there early because i hated being late, so it was no suprise that i often ran into Jane early in the morning. One day when i got to school, i ran into Jane on the gym field. She looked terrified when i approached her. When i asked her what was wrong, she pointed at the group of 8th grade boys that i admired and suggested that they were making fun of her.

I said i would walk her to the front door, but she kept shaking her head. There was something so powerless in her eyes at the moment. Like there was nothing she could say or do to make them go away. And i kept thinking to myself, "what the hell i'm I suppose to do. I'll look like Jane's BFF if i stand up for her. People will make fun of me and think that i'm "slow like Jane"

I almost left her. I admit it. There was this momemt where i was like "it's not really my problem"

But that only lasted about 5 seconds. I remember grabbing her hand, as we headed up the big hill. I remember being so scared and knowing that i would get shit from the hot 8th graders. I remember seeing her powerlessness and feeling my own.

Before i could even turn back and tell Jane that i was sorry that i couldn't do anything for her, we reached the boys who suddenly turned to us both.

"WHAT IF THIS WAS YOUR SISTER!!!" I yelled. I don't even know where the voice came from but I kept going "You think it's real funny to make fun of her don't you. Like it makes you somebody to make fun of a girl who can't do anything. Real nice, jackasses. Horray for making fun of JANE. She could be you're sister.Remember that"

And then i dragged Jane to the front door, said goodbye, and waited in the corner until my friends came. I didn't feel brave, or strong, or good about what i did, i just felt scared about what would happen after word got out that i stuck up for her.

But...for the rest of the year they didn't make fun of Jane anymore. They said hey to me in the hallway's. And Jane....well she stayed glued to me the whole year in gym and of course dragged down our flag football team. But one day she gave me a huge hug out of the blue. I felt like it was worth it. Like a part of defending Jane was about defending myself.

After i told me story to My Dr Phil, i started crying. For like no reason. I think after all these years i realize that i relate to Jane sometimes. I relate to her powerlessness and being stuck in her own shell. Sometimes i feel like anxiety has made me who i am. Other times i feel like it has disabled me and that i am slowly recovering from it's harm.

It's easier for me to defend other people than to defend myself. It's easier for me to invest in other people's well being than my own. But there are some days, when i feel like i am just like Jane, waiting for someone to take my hand and defend me.

To see how vunerbale my nature is and take care out it, out of some deep seeded love and connection to me.

I don't know if that's asking for too much.

She's Out To Get Me.

My medieval masculinity class is the shit. For real.

I didn't think learning about knights would be so interesting but we are investigatinf all of their flaws. Apparently being a dude is harder than i thought, especially if your a dude whose suppose to protect a)the king and b) the land.

And when you add in religion, women, and love...being a dude sucks . I don't see how some of you do it.

I admit my introduction to knights and celestial maidens wasn't until i was in middle school but i eventually grew to like them. I mean i read fairy tales and stuff like that, but not the hardcore medieval writings like i have to read for this class. Chaucer, Kemp, yadda yadda. I have to take two pre 1800 literature classes to graduate and two shakespeare classes wasn't going to do it. RateMyProfessor.com, said the teacher of medieval masculinty was awesome, and i admittedly signed up for it after that reassurance.

They were right she is awesome. She's like one of those pretty girls you see at Starbucks, reading a book, sipping their latte, and dressed in a quirky way. She's tall, has a wavy blonde hair, and wears chuck taylors with almost everything. And she has glasses!!! GLASSES!!!! The cool Lisa Loeb sort of thing.

She's been to Europe a bunch of times, probably has a really hott geeky husband, and did i mention she dresses really cool.

One day she came into class, dressed in an army jacket, a frilly skirt, and chuck taylors. I almost died because it was the cutest outfit i've ever seen a professor wear (well minus some fashionable grad students). For the most part she is nice, she has her favorites of course but she teaches the material in a way that we are all pretty much interested.

Unfortunately she loves her class to be discussion orienated. English and Bio are very different. English classes are smaller, more intimate, and strictly discussion based. I mean there is no way that you could have a class where no one said anything because literature is suppose to be discussed. It's like the law or something. However what usually happens is that you have a handful of students who actually do the talking while the rest of us just sit, listen and take notes.
My realism teacher use to call on us whenever there was an awkward silence, which didn't bother me so much because i loved her class. I felt confidant about the material, and i was noted as one of her favorites from the beginning. I guess because she established the "if you don't talk i will call on you" rule from the beginning, i didn't mind saying stuff in her class. Everyone was really cool, the atmosphere was friendly, and did i mention that she was the coolest teacher ever.
My medieval masculinity teacher also tried to implement the "everyone must talk rule" on the first day, but she didn't really enforce it. The same 7 people guide the conversation, while i look on intently from my seat. I like ingesting things, I like listening to people discuss the material, and then come up with my own ideas come from that. I don't particulary agree with everything being said, but i like listening. It's what i do.

But she's not having any of that. After spring break, there was the two week period were participiation went down. We are tired, exhuastated, and amazingly in need for another break. Allegry season is coming in hard, going to all classes is difficult, and everyone seems to be taking my approach to silence.

One day Converse Teacher was so frustrated with everyone's lack of participation (even her chosen few) that she let class about about 30 minutes early. Now this week she has suddenly decided that participation is mandatory for EVERYONE.

"Tomorrow, everyone has to say at least one thing. I'm warning you in advance". I admit it haven't said anything in this ladies class, but i do show up everyday. I turn out these papers that are marginally good, and i have my intent face on when i'm in her class (hand usually under the chin), I'm doing wicked awesome on her quizzes and i participate in group work.

Apparently that's not enough. We only hvae four weeks of school left and she is on a quiet people mission. Yesterday was the "everyone must talk day" and i was not particulary feeling it. I sort of had this idea of : "What is she going do if i don't speak, stone me".

She must have put fear into everyone else though, because people i have never seen yet alone heard before in my whole entire life, were actually speaking. Their comments bordered on "i have to say something just to get this lady off my back" but generally it was a productive class. It went by really fast, and she was pleased...with almost everyone.

Me and one other girl did not say anything. The whole time this speaking frenzy went on, we kept shooting each other looks like "are you going to say anything" "no of course i'm not going to say anything" "well if you don't say anything i won't have to say anything" "fine agreed we both won't say anything"

I don't even know this girl, but we had quiet girl lingo going on for a while. When my clock read 1:45 my instant thought was "glad that's over. No more of this crazy everyone has to say somethign bullcrap". But no she wasn't finished yet.

As we began packing up Converse Teacher said "I would like to thank everyone for their participation, those of you who spoke anyway. We have two people who didn't say anything though, so next week i expect everyone to say something".

Class dismissed.

I don't think Converse lady is playing. I may actually be stoned if i don't say anything.

Jeepers.

Waging War

I do not know if i have told this story before, if so i apologize, but in the 12th grade my history teacher wanted us to do some mock stock group. Divided into teams of our own making, we would invest in stocks to see which group gained (or in most cases) retained the most money.

I wasn't popular in high school but had a good amount of friends. I have no problem admitting that now . I was quiet in class, and hung out with the AP kids, but everyone knew me as the nice girl. No had any problems with me, everyone knew of me but not too much about me.

So i figured when choosing a group came around, it wouldn't be too much of a problem. There were several people in the class who i considered buddies and assumed i would group up with them. When she called for the class to split up, everyone did instantly. Me and my friend, Kimberley, instantly gravitated towards each other, and this boy Scott who we all knew because his mother was the science teacher joined with us also.

Unfortunately this class had about 35 people in it. So assuming the groups were distributed fairly there could be 6 groups of 5 people. or 5 Groups of 6 people. It wasn't until the three of us stood by the sidelines that we realized that no one else wanted to join our group. I mean one guy actually took a desk from our group, just so he could insert himself into another one.It was pretty embarrassing.

The three of us looke on as everyone settled into their groups and avoided our eyes. It was made apparent in that moment, that no matter how nice of a person i was...i was still considered a dork and an outisider. A person no one wanted to be in a group with.

The teacher noticed the distribution of groups and kindly asked if someone would join us, "the leftovers". Everyone sort of look at each other, seeing which individual they would sacrifice until the three of us collectively decided, and told her, that we would do just fine with three people.


There is something liberating in being the underdog because there is always this possibility that you will overcome your adversities and prove everyone wrong. I mean look at movies like Rudy and Lucas, underdog tales....stellar endings.

After the embarrassment of that day, we came up with ideas on how to win the group project. I picked out the companies that we would invest in, Scott would do most of the calculation, and Kim was in charge of documenting our losses and gains. When it came time to choose our group names, so the teacher could keep a tally of who was in the lead, there was only one name for us....THE UNDERDOGS. I don't think Kim and Scott knew how important this win was for me, but for a month we invested wisely, stayed focused, and weren't swayed by the other groups progress.

At the end of the month, we were crowned the winners of the Stock Project (due to some stable investments in water and Nathan's Hot Dogs), and we each got a snickers bar and a pat on the back from our teacher (literally). But the real prize came in seeing everyone of my classmates face as we went up and receive our candy.

The point of the story is, when I'm backed into a corner, signaled out, made to be the underdog, i fight as hard as i can to prove otherwise.

And so.....

I have waged war on the hyena's at work. And i couldn't feel more happy about.

I know i have gone on and on about my difficulties with Kathleen, Amanda, and even Debbie Downer, but last week i was so close to crying at work that i knew something had to change. The hyena's have a way of poking fun at me in a not so funny way. If there are boys in the vicinity Amanda will question my femininity. When Kathleen and Amanda are together they boss me around, try to intimidate me, and then laugh like it's all in jest. It's weird, i feel like they like me but gang up on me. I am asked to lunch all the time, i can carry on conversations with them, individually, but together there is this need for them to exert their worth, and they do so by picking on me.

Last Tuesday i came into the office and said good morning. We have this thing called morning duties which has to be completed before we can shelve books. Kathleen has to do this scanning thing, where if we find books just lying around in the library we scan them to make sure that it hasn't been reported as lost or stolen. Sometimes she lets me scan the books, because for some reason i am a fan of scanning. Maybe it was my years spent playing supermarket with my brother, but i like holding the scanner and moving it over barcodes. Sue me.

So on Tuesday, i wasn't particularly in the mood for scanning, even though she wanted to know if i wanted to scan. I scanned one cart of books, and then said that i didn't feel like doing it anymore, and that i would rather go shelve some books.

In that moment, her head snapped, her eyes rolled, and all hell broke loose. It was as if i denounced Jesus or something. Instantly i was a called a quitter. How dare i ask to do something and then decide not to? Who do i think i am? She was joking at first, but then she began getting so close to my face that i was uncomfortable. And of course Amanda was egging her own. Debbie Downer didn't say anything even though they were clearly taking it out of hand.

When i replied "scanning isn't even my job" Kathleen said "Listen little girl..." (because I'm shorter than her) which was then followed by her regular bullshit comments. At first i was just standing there taking it all in but then...i heard something within me say "you guys suck majorly" until i realized i had said it out loud. After that i couldn't stop myself, i felt backed in a corner, i felt like an underdog, so i returned her bullshit comments with my own. She's not my boss.

There was like 5 minutes were she was like "you're a quitter get over it" followed by my "don't ever call me a quitter. When everyone was sitting in here talking i was out there shelving books. So whose a quitter."

This continued some more, until i eventually just left. Need I mention Debbie Downer, did not defend me.

I wanted to cry after the whole thing. I hate feeling attacked, especially because they do so out of boredom. But after a while i stopped feeling so bad. It's weird, i am trying to have healthy relationships and reject the bad ones, so why put up with something when i don't have to.
So a day after the not so funny argument, i decided to give the hyena's what they give me. ATTITUDE. And I can't really respect Debbie Downer, who had the opportunity to say "you guys are being harsh" and instead sat there and did nothing. There is nothing more that i hate than a person who doesn't defend a "friend"

For the last week, my attitude towards them has changed. I walk in, still pleasantly happy, but pay no attention to them than necessary, Debbie Downer included. If they have something to tell me, i shrug my shoulders and walk away. I will not inject myself in their drama, I've removed myself and just started talking to my other co-workers, which is rubbing the hyena's the wrong way.

I've begun hanging out Briton and his rocker best work friend. I talk to this other girl whose a
fan of Sir James McAvoy, and me and Julie will hang out in the aisles now and talk about movies and stuff. It's actually been really fun and the hyena's have taken note.

"You don't like hanging out with us anymore" Kathleen said today. And i replied "you're right i don't."

No lie. I just said what i thought.

She looked sort of stunned, like i was suppose to say something like "of course i like you".
She asked me again, as if i got the question wrong. "You really don't like us".

"No, I really don't" i replied, smiled and then went on with my business. They tried to engage me again, Amanda got some promotion where now she has an excuse to sit around all day. She posted an announcement on the board, saying that we should congratulate her for becoming the new student supervisor in the office.

When i walked in, she said she had something important to tell me. Something that would make me happy.

"Come here, I've got news!" she yelled from the other room, like i would just come and listen readily. Instead, i grabbed my coffee, my muffin and then replied "I don't think there is anything you could tell me that would make me as happy as i am right now" and then closed the door behind me.

I know that going against the hyena's may mean hell, i know that i have cut close ties, but i feel much better than i have in the last couple of weeks, and if it's a war worth fighting, then I'll be in it to the end.

Beckett-1 Hyena's-?.