I'm Just Not That Into You

Summer Session 1 is officially over. I have to turn in my take home exam for sociology on Monday, pick up my History Paper on the same day and then take my final exam on Thursday. Until then i am wrapping up things at work, lounging around in my room, and feeling a little queasy and excited about the whole "entering the real world thing". Whatever that means.

After the small misunderstanding with Kathleen yesterday we patched things up before her week long vacation. She brought a curling iron to work today and offered to do my hair. I in turn gave her my pink sharpie and told her what had to eat last night. How simply we resolve things.

I was suppose to get Sushi with Debbie Downer tonight, but she has a history of "bad cramps" which literally renders her incapable of doing anything but sulk in the corner. She leaves work early at least once a month due to these cramps, and no one seems to care because as soon as she leaves we can do whatever we want.

Last Friday we went to a Chinese Restaurant but had to return early so she wouldn't make an complain about 7 out of 15 employees taking a 2 hour paid break. Today, since she left early, we took the liberty of a 2 hour lunch at the best little Asian/Southwestern cafe i have ever been to. I was hesitant at first with the description but surprisingly my beef burrito and Korean dumplings were the best thing i have had in a very long time. Last Friday we invited Stef-en to come along. Amanda only asked him, so she could taunt me through the whole lunch with "look at what your boyfriend is eating" "Oh you guys got the same drink".

Even though Stef-en is beautiful, built, and dresses nicely...he's not a very popular person at the office. So today when i asked who was going on our lunch trip, Stef-en name was not only absence but Amanda made a face when i mentioned his name. He has quickly gotten on everyones nerves through a series of events. He's sort of random ( speaking with a British accent for no reason), superficial ( saying "So Anyway..." if he doesn't like the conversation) and for me...a motherf*cking user.

I agreed to help him study for History about a week ago. Because I'm really nice and passive, i couldn't turn him away when he came to me after class and asked if we could study together. I was a little worried because a guy like that ( concerned with his work out regiment, tailored shirt, and blackberry) doesn't hang out with a girl like me (shy, book lover, with paint on her pants) unless he wants something. It just doesn't happen. Right off the back i sort of assumed he was sucking up to me, so he could get a good grade in the class, but after the first study session i felt differently. We actually had things to talk about, laughed a lot, kind of study, but mainly talked.

On Tuesday however, he started talking about the big paper that was due on Thursday. The big paper that he didn't even start. The big paper that we could "possibly work on...together." I said that i didn't mind helping him with an outline, and that we could go over some concepts together, but that wasn't enough for him. On Wednesday, after sensing that he wanted me to write his paper, i almost bailed on our study session. However, i got some text message later in the day saying that he was in the computer lab and ready to study.

I dragged myself there, worried that i wouldn't be able to finish my own paper if i was spending the whole night helping him with his. When i got there, he hadn't even started his paper, he didn't even his name on the damn thing. He was working on some project for his Art Class, and when i got there he seemed indifferent to studying or writing his paper. I however had about 5 pages done, and told him that i couldn't stay too long in order for me to finish.

He wanted to know why i didn't email the paper to myself, so i could work on it in the computer lab. He went on to say that he thought we were going to compare papers. That i would read sections from my paper so he would get a general idea of what to write for his.

Are you out of your fucking mind!!

You should have seen my face when he said this. It was priceless. It was a mix of "you really take me for stupid" and "Hell No". I told him that wasn't going to work, because comparing essays can only work (not that i would ever do that) with two essay's, not one. I only brought the hard copy of my paper with me, which he was eye balling the whole time. He asked if i wanted him to type up my hard copy, so I could work on my essay in there with him. I could just read my essay out loud and he would type it up real quickly. Why would i read out my essay and have him type it up? That would just mean that he would have a copy of my paper when i left the computer lab.

After this request, i told him that i had to leave. You know something randomly came up and i needed to go. The next day, the day our paper was due, he didn't even come to class. In fact he hadn't been to class in the last 3 days. He came into work yesterday, telling me that he was going to turn his paper in late because he didn't finish it the night before. "If you want, we can meet in the computer lab today and go over what i have written if you like".

I told him I'd think about it, and then of course I didn't show up when he text me that afternoon, wondering where i was.

Geez, i don't know what I'm more offended by. That he really thinks being a stud will get people to do his work, or that i am so gullible i will look past his overt attempts for me to write his paper because he's pretty.

Whatever the case, I'm just not that into him, or anyone for that matter of fact, to get caught up in some crazy "One paper, two students" scandal.

What a bastard.

I'm Ready for the Weekend.

On Tuesday i had a magical day. So magical that i knew it was too good to be true. I knew that some wrench would be thrown in my beautiful day, and smack me in the face (don't worry this has nothing to do with Rock & Roll. He's doing fine i might add).

My main source of social interaction is at work. It's like I'm practicing on my co-workers for the "real world" of social interaction. Without the crutch of school, i assume i will instead make friends with the people i work with, rather than classmate. Marie was concerned that she would not be able to make any friends outside of college, because she was so use to talking to classmates and forming bonds with them. It's logical, you spend so much time in class you eventually get to know the person(s) sitting next to you and...there you have it a friendship. I figure this works the same way in any scenario. You befriend the people you spend the majority of your time with, and in my case (for the summer anyway) I spend the most time during the week with them.

I am trying to make the best of my time, goofing around with Britton and Michael as much as i can, cherishing Amanda's daily eye rolls, talking to Debbie Downer about not so Debbie Downer stuff, and trying to decipher when and if Kathleen is being serious or funny. I would devote more time to Rock and Roll, but i don't want anyone catching on, so i sneak in as much conversation time as i can.

I can sense that everyone realizes that I am leaving, permanently, in a couple of days. I don't try to hide this fact from them. I say i will miss the good times and that i won't miss the bad times. For the most part i like the people i work with, and i realize we are more buddies than friends. We have flaky conversations about movies and music, and make irrelevant comments about youtube videos. I don't expect to see them ever again, but I'm content with the time spent in the library. It's sure to be a small, interesting blurb in the story of my life.

Tuesday was an ideal day. I got to talk to David (The grey-eyed beauty and platonic buddy), i briefly saw Rock and Roll, and when i went to study with Stef-en on Tuesday we had a fun time talking about Anne Hathaway and GQ magazine. He showed me some of his drawings and told me about the anime show he wants to create. We stayed in the computer lab until 8:30 just talking. He even called me his friend several times during the conversation, and i sort of bought it.

So on Wednesday i walked in, feeling pretty good which of course all came crumbling down when i saw Kathleen. Did i mention she was off on Monday and Tuesday. It was the best two days ever. It's not that i don't like Kathleen, it's just that i don't understand her. She always talks about how shitty i dress,or how unkempt my hair is, or how un-girly i am. When i tell her that I'm perfectly okay with myself, or i try to explain why I'm perfectly okay with myself, it's "Why are you being so defensive. I'm just trying to help you!!!"

?????

I take these moments in stride. I get a little flustered, change the subject, and then leave the room quickly. I know that i have a blog and all, and that i have spent the past couple of years writing about myself and my life. But in the real world, i don't like talking about myself. It's not something i do. I grew up in a family where privacy was cherished. Unless I'm completely comfortable with you i don't make an effort to tell you my whole life story. Apart of being a private person, is that i also don't readily ask people about their lives. I never know what people are comfortable talking about, so i keep it simple and basic, until i know their boundaries.

When i saw Kathleen yesterday, my heart kind of dropped. She is the instigator of making me talk about myself in a crowd of my co-workers. "What are wearing today, what did you buy today?", "where are you going after work?". It was a flutter of questions thrown at me. All she needed was a Law and Order interrogation table and she could have made me confess to a crime i didn't commit.

The end of that daywasn't terrible, thanks to a cute thing Rock and Roll did (which i'll quickly have to blog about after this post), but i feel without the last few moments with him i would have just called it a day and went to bed. Today, i made the awful mistake of staying in the office to type up some call numbers (it sounds as boring as you think it is). Debbie Downer had left for the day, and it was just me, Kathleen, some high school kid here for the summer, and Amanda.
I was listening to music so i could avoid any bad conversations. I had just watched Kathleen chew out Michael for calling her a bitch (which he didn't really call her), and i didn't want to be on the end of that conversation. I was minding my business, typing up call numbers, when the discussion suddenly turned to me. And i knew it was going to be bad.

Kathleen and Amanda ask me what i ate for dinner on a daily basis. As if my food intact will enlighten them about my awesomeness. It's the same conversation "what did you eat?" "frozen food" "Eww that's gross". I don't think i've ever asked anyone what they ate for dinner. It's not something i care to know. Knowing that someone had a burrito the other day, will in no way, shape or form, give me some grand insight into their character. If the highlight of our conversation is what i (or yourself) ate last night than clearly we have run out of things to talk about.

Of course they couldn't drop the conversation there. "Why did you eat that?" "Is that all you ate" "What did you drink with that". The OED describes an interrogation as "the action of asking questions". Knowing this information, i simply said "why do you guys care what i ate last night. I feel like i'm getting interrogated or something". And this is when the shit hit the fan. It was like one of those freeze frame moments in a movie where you hear a voice over announcing "Oh shit i have said something stupid", next to my stilled face.

"Why are you being so defensive. I don't care what you ate, i'm just trying to have a conversation with you". I don't know which one said it, it didn't really matter because when they are together their voices sort of blend. Proving that i am slightly defensive I followed my why do you care question with "Learning about what you guys ate today or yesterday isn't going to affect my day, so knowing what i eat isn't going to affect yours". It's the truth. I don't care what my friends eat, unless it's a huge part of their lives. I don't care what my friends wear, unless it's a huge part of their lives. I mean if i had said that i was a huge fan of cooking and wanted to be a chef, asking me about what i ate last night would be a logical question. But i eat the same thing every night, i rarely talk about food, and i don't remember what i drank with my frozen dinner.

Kathleen got SOOOOO offended by this. "Oh so i have to talk about something that affects you for you to care".Yes. This is what i have to deal with at work. My comment was completely taken out of context, but she kept pushing the issue. I'm sorry if i don't find talking about my rigatoni idinner an interesting topic to share with the masses.

What i failed to see was that their "food conversations" had nothing to do with what i eat for dinner. After about 30 minutes of arguing back and forth, Amanda left. I turned to Kathleen to ask her a question, only to see that she was pissed (or hurt) by what i had said. So i asked her what i had done to piss her off now.

Apparently Amanda and Kathleen like talking to me, but our interests are different. We don't watch the same kind of movies, listen to the same kind of songs, or enjoy the same kind of leisure activity. Though this doesn't bother me, it doesn't sit well with them. I'm one of the only other girls in the office, and i am not a complete pariah.

Asking me about food was a subject they knew (or at least thought) we would all connect on,
since I'm not into fashion, MTV produced movies, or musicians whose lyrics i can't interpret. For them food was the "safe" conversation...until i got all defensive. I admit, i felt a little like an asshole after she explained all that, but how was i suppose to know this through all the yelling.

You can never win with these girls, and I gave up trying too a long time ago. I don't know who won this battle, but i didn't feel any closer to knowing if they even like me. Not that it matters much, but the old adage seems true in this case "with buddies like mine who needs enemies"

Happy Birthday Frogboots.

I got up very early to wish Frogboots a very happy birthday.

Though i wish i was there in person to celebrate your day, I hope you have a wicked awesome celebration.

For those who don't know, Frogboots has become a good friend these past few years. Her ability to brighten me up on a terrible day with kind words and advice has helped me tremendously.

As elusive and secrective as i am, Frogboots has always been rooting for me (as i root for her).

So to Frogboots, all the way from where i live, Happy Birthday (from a girl who really respects, values, and cherishes our friendship)!!!!!

The Art of Schmoozing.

On the Sims when you want to get your kids accepted to a private you have to invite the headmaster over and for 3 minutes (about 2 hours in normal time) you have to wine and dine this guy so your kids can go to a private school. Don't ask me how i know this. I of course would never make a Me and Sufjan Stevens Sims who would want their four children to attend a private school. Never.

The point is the more you schmoozer the guy(talk about your job, the private school, your kids) the more likely you are to get your brats into a private school.

I am not much of a schmoozer in real life. I don't feel the need to feed someone bullshit to gain something. It just isn't how i work. I would rather earn something on my own merit, without having to suck up. Of course there are those out there who get things because of their ability to schmooze. I try to stay as far away from those people as possible.

There is this guy at work, Stephen( the french one, not Rock And Roll) and he is a schmoozer all the way. He pronounces his name Stef-en, and carries the pompous French thing around with like a badge of honor. He's a French major who randomly begins speaking french for no reason. When i first met him i thought he would be the best gay friend I've never had, but instead...everyone thinks that we have a thing going on because i agreed to help him study.


Let me back up a little. When we first met he said "hey we are in the same history class". I didn't take it as much. I've taken plenty of classes with people i work with, and i usually don't say anything to them in class. Unfortunately i made the mistake of saying that History was one of my favorite subjects. When our first test came around I made an A while he made a D. This apparently did not go to well with him, because the next day we went from being co-workers to instant best friends.


He sits to me now in class, he sits next to me a work, stands next to me at work, follows me around at work, and tries to butter me up. I knew what was coming. I can smell a schmoozer from a mile away. As we were standing in line (because did i mention he know walks to the bookstore with me) he asked if we wanted to study "You know since we are friends and all". Because i am nice i agreed to study with him, but it is becoming more and more annoying to realize that he is hanging out with me ( and possibly playing the gay best friend card) because he wants to ace the next test and paper (which he suggested we go over so we could "both" benefit from it).


While i know that he is using me, everyone at work thinks he likes me on a more than a friend level and that i am being a prude for rejecting his advances. I feel like i am in kindergarten. The first time Amanda noticed his clinging she was all "OMG Stef-en totally likes you". I didn't want to say that my spidey senses were telling me he isn't in to girls so i said something like "Eww. gross no way".


This got everyone in the office speculating. I mean he's attractive, he dresses nice, he takes care of himself...and i don't like him. So i must be a lesbian. Yes people i am a lesbian because I'm not attracted to guy who likes guys. You can never win in this place. They joke around with this Stef-en thing everyday in the office. "Oh you're boyfriends here" "Look he's coming with you to make sure you don't stray". And because he wants an A, he thinks that i am totally falling for the "gay best friend/crush worthy" thing (which i sort of am), ignoring the whole fact that i have a crush on Rock and Roll (which they don't and won't ever know). When did my life become a mini soap opera?


I'm studying with him this afternoon, and if the motherfucker thinks I'm writing his paper he has another thing coming. He is not my type or that hot for that to go down.

He is nice, i will say that. His motives could be geniune and i am doing the weird find some excuse not to hang out with him. But it's frustrating for Amanda and Kathleen to throw this scenerio in my face as if I should be attracted to any one who shows some interest. Even though they don't seem to catch on that it's a "let's watch The devil wears prada" interest rather than a "i have a crush on you interest" (We have had detailed conversations on how great that movie is)


Amanda made some critique last week that if i want a boyfriend i should dress like a slut ( in relation to my dressing style and non boy mojo). I swear to bob she said this. I don't have to be a slut, i just have to prance around in clothing revealing a lot of skin so boys will come my way. Any attention in her mind is better than none. I've sort of made a decision that if a boy is hanging around me because i am dressed like a slut, well than i don't want him.


This sex roles class I am taking is a lot more interesting that i first thought. We are learning all about social norms and things. In order for women to get a man she must exert such characteristics as frailty, helplessness, and femininity. Or in the words of a Amanda "dress like a slut". Not only do we play into these roles but men do as well, expecting all women to like the whole macho, in your face sort of thing. It creeps me out. A part of me isn't willing to conform to these roles which may be hindering the boy thing.

I'm just getting the hang of being myself, which for the most part has nothing to do with social norms. I mean it's about being comfortable with opening up to people, flirting or not flirting with Rock and Roll, and feeling content in my life. I guess this added pressure to have a relationship, dress some certain way (slutty) is all too much. Because at the end of the day I'm completely okay with where I'm at in my life, who I'm becoming, and my potential. And i find that pretty damn attractive. Way more attractive than exposed boobs and a made up face.

I'm just saying. Rock and Roll doesn't seem to mind.

I had a pleasant conversation with him today. I'm still embarrassing myself hardcore but it's worth it. I may have admitted that I've dreamed of being a ninja, i may have admitted that boxing is thoroughly exciting, and i may have admitted that a day without coffee is a day not worth seeing. But he didn't run for the hills. He simply took off his hat (revealing the prettiest hair I've ever seen) and smiled. I'm falling hardcore in crush mode with this kid, despite him being 2 years younger than me.

Amanda said something offensive to him in the office when we were talking. So him and his friend left. I figured i could stay in the office with her and learn more about being a slut, or go out there, find him, and chat. So i excused myself from the office (with some lame excuse) and found him and his friend in the corner talking. I joined in, stayed for a hell of a long time, and caught some glances my way when he thought i wasn't looking. I don't know who this person is staring back at me. The still nervous and anxious me, but someone taking a lot more risks to get to know some guy she likes.

Who would have thunk it?

Mark Darcy: No, I like you very much. Just as you are.

What an off day.

I'm beginning to think that off days occur so the optimistic part of me doesn't live life wearing "everything is rosy" glasses. My sociology professors shuns optimistic people. According to him optimistic people can only be let down. If you think that things are always going to work out for the best then the moment something shitty happens you are crushed beyond help.

But if your a pessimist, like him, when bad things happen you expect it. When good things happen you are shocked and a little elated. The life of a pessimist is much easier according to him. I think i may take him up on that.

I walked out of my apartment today in a pretty good mood. The new body wash i'm using is making my skin softer than that damn teddy bear on those detergent commercials, which made me very happy this morning. I had on my favorite brown tunic, with my converse and distressed jeans. As i opened the door i saw a group of tall, bulky football players in the parking lot i have to cross to get to class. You know, the type of guys that have girls drooling allover them. The type of guys who have to hang out in groups in order to feel normal. Next to the small, anxious, and converse wearing me, i was no match for them.

I tried to escape their gaze knowing that in comparison to all the hott chicks they hang out with, my converse, jeans and tunic would make me look like your stereotypical geeky 80's girl rather than the prom queen.

"Your girlfriend's calling you" they yelled when i passed, mocking one of their other friends by suggesting he would ever date a girl like me. And just to make sure I knew they were talking about me i heard "the one in brown" by the same one. MotherF*cker. I had my headphones in my ears, which weren't playing anything, but it made it easy for me to pretend like i didn't hear them, instead of turning around in mortification at these huge guys who were calling me out in the parking lot.

I felt a little bad. Like an Ugly Duckling or something. But my sociology professor has a way of perking me up. His comments are so off the wall sometime that you can't help but feel okay. After the parking lot debacle, my professor began talking about some guy in his department who is leaving in disgraced. He hates the guy because said guy doesn't like how my professor grades students. He'll give you an A as long as you show up. His rationale is that the people who want to learn knowing that no real hard work is going to be involved, want to be there and deserve the A.

The people who know the class is going to be an easy A won't even come, which means they will get a grade lower than an A. "It's college... people. Look at the asshole they let into universities every year because they can play some sport really well. It's bullshit. You know the type, brainless jocks and the whole lot. I don't expect them to come because they think it's an easy A. So when they get that C, they have no one to blame but themselves. This is me screwing with the system, one jock at a time"

He's my hero and he doesn't even know it.

Work wasn't any better. When i met Stephen the first time, he offhandedly mentioned that a girl in our department is hot. She doesn't speak English well, but she has the sweet meek thing down to a tee. Not like my potty mouth rants that usually end in a mispronunciation of a word. I'm just saying. We were waiting for the elevators today talking about where i grew up when the cute foreign girl came out of the elevator. His slouch was suddenly replaced with straight shoulders and a proper stance I thought he was going to pop his collars or something and take off his hat in her presence. It was all "hello, how are you doing", straight lace bull crap. I just stared at him as he acted all prim and proper in front of the hot foreign chick. Once she was out of the way our conversation resumed, slouched shoulders and all.

It could just be that i was self conscious from the parking lot thing, but i must admit idiots aside i feel more like a ugly duckling than a beautiful swan some days. Back to referencing the 80's, i feel like the girl no one notices until she takes off her glasses and adds some makeup to her face. It's irritating, when you want to be attractive to other people, but can't seem to get past mere cute.

[Speaking Of: I have received countless comments in my 3 years of blogging about how beautiful i am. And if i was Audry Tatou from the movie Amelie, i would gladly say "I'm flattered. Thank you so much" . But as i have mentioned in my profile under favorite movies: THE GIRL IN THE PICTURE ISN'T ME. I am not the beautiful and talented french actress who starred in the shy girls anthem of romantic movies. The picture is there only because i relate to her character in the movie, not because she secretly has a 22 year old twin out there. Sorry to disappoint any of those reading who thinks a really hot girl is anxious as hell as and a writer. I am merely Beckett Amelia Hughes, more awkward and clumsy (and cute) than glamorous and French. Us normal cute girls have it a lot harder than she does.]

After Stephen retreated to his office, Amanda pulled me aside for girl talk. The other day i wore a t-shirt under a tunic. She nearly punched me in the face when she saw me, yelling "why are you wearing that". Today she apologized for saying it in front of EVERYONE and embarrassing me. She just doesn't understand why i wear baggy clothes and cover up so much "You're pretty" she said "and you want a boyfriend don't you?".

The truth is boyfriend or no boyfriend, crush or sort of crush, i just want someone to like me just as i am. And though it doesn't seem like a hard request, maybe it is in the real world. I guess it's only fitting that that's what i want after my Bridget Jones of a day. I don't want to be someone else so i can have some dude on my arm, or crush by my side. I just want to be me and have someone like me just as i am, potty mouth and all.

Time to hide under the covers and watch Becoming Jane again. Maybe James McAvoy saying "run away with me" will lift my spirits. What i am i saying , of course James McAvoy saying "runaway with me" will make me happy.

It's my apartment and i can walk around pantless if i want too!!

During my daily nap on Friday i heard some strange noises from the room next to me. Of course i opted this summer for a roommate so i could live in the not so nice honors dorm. My past experience with summer roommates has been that they are way better than fall/spring roommates. If you're lucky your summer roommate will barely be in the apartment, leaving you with a whole lotta room just for yourself. If you are unlucky then you're roommate will be loud, have all her friends over, and make you want to pull your hair out.

My newest roommate has been a mixture of both. She moved in the day after moving day and wasn't in much of a mood to talk. Fine by me. I introduced myself, made some light conversation and said the all important "if you need anything I'm right next door". For the first week i didn't hear a peep out of her. The 2nd week her boyfriend sort of moved in, and that's a different story. Along with the presence of a dude in the apartment, the bathroom, living area, and sink become hers and her boyfriend. While my meager stuff was overrun. The bathroom smelt of pine forest, and the noise level next door got louder.

All in all i took it in stride. It's only a month, and i could have gotten worse. But on Friday during my pleasant nap time, i heard the rumblings of things being moved. Upon closer inspection (pressing my ear to the door) it sounded like she was moving things out. This isn't totally weird. I mean a lot of people leave for the weekend.

The more and more i listened however, the less it sounded like she was going away for the weekend and the more it sounded like she was moving in with said boyfriend. Holy Mother of God. I have an apartment all too myself!!!! When the last of her stuff was moved out and the front door closed behind her i waited for a while, just to make sure the coast was clear. I was going to knock on the door, and make some lame excuse as too why i was knocking had it opened. But instead i walked by the door accidentally hitting the knob and walked into a VERY EMPTY ROOM.

It's like the best case scenario. I have the whole apartment too myself, which is making me more than a happy summer school student. It's like my first apartment in training. I've put more stuff in the fridge, placed the furniture like i want to, and danced danced in the living room wearing very cute shorts.

Time to take a shower. A day of shelving old books can make you smell like old books. It isn't pleasant. I will eventually have to talk about Rock & Roll (or Stephen) again. This crush thing is a lot harder than i thought. It's easier liking an ideal than someone right in front of you every day. If anything i am learning more and more about what i seek in relationships and i what i want out of a boyfriend. Don't worry i haven't gone all head over heels in like him (or worse fallen out of like with him because for stupid reason), but he's more like my "how to approach i guy a like in training" than anything else.

I've got plenty more explaining to do, but first a shower.

The Mole

After the high of Monday, i was not expecting such a low on Tuesday.

Like any introverted girl, there are some days when i like to be by myself. It's just how it is. There is no way to explain it unless you are introverted too. People are exhausting and sometimes i need to breathe. I was watching a documentary the other day about a couple who have been deaf since birth. They decided at 65, that they wanted to hear (with the advances of technology). 65 years in silence and all of a sudden they hear the sounds of the world. Of course being able to hear myself, allows me to take a million things for granted. I don't question whether my feet makes a noise when i am walking, or whether branches make a noise when you break them. But to them, simple connections between movement and noise where puzzling. Does the wind make a sound? What does a piano sound like?

Of course once they got the surgery to fix their hearing, noise was not as melodic as they had imagined. I mean of course a child's laughter, a sound of a piano, or even the sound of waves crashing into shore are comforting. But carts being pushed in a store, cars honking, and dogs barking weren't as nice. Even though they spent all this money to hear, they ended up in a years time barely using the aid, preferring the calm of silence rather than the chaotic noise.

That's sort of how being an introvert is. You want to hear and feel and see all those things that come with human interaction. But sometimes you would rather just turn off the hearing aid, fall back into silence, and concentrate on the day to day things that make you happy... without interruption.

When i got back to work, i sort of thought i would fall back into my own group of buddies. Which wasn't the case as previously noted. Rock & Roll doesn't work in our department, so i only get to talk to him when he comes in the office. Me and Debbie hang out, but she leaves an hour after i get there. All the new people are nice, but i usually don't talk to them unless someone else has started the conversation. That leaves the old clique of Amanda, Britton, Kathleen, and Michael.

But as the days go on, i don't feel like hanging out with them all the time. I admit it, sometimes i like to just go off by myself and daydream. There's nothing wrong with that. And i have been doing a lot more reading than laughing about insane things. Between the hour that i socialize, the hour that i work, i spend at least one hour day just by myself...where i want to be with my books.

Interestingly enough Debbie Downer and I have been talking a lot more since i got back. I think she realizes that i won't be there in the fall and is trying to squeeze in as much time with me as she can ( she gave me some chop sticks today!). Which is nice, because when she isn't being a totally downer we do have some pretty interesting conversations.

For an hour (the socializing hour) before she has to leave, we just sit in the office (because everyone is at lunch) and talk. It's actually better than i thought. I was at first offended by her proclamation that we were cosmic twins. I now of course understand that we are similar people, in very different stages of our life. I'm not exactly like her, and she's not exactly like me but where we find the middle ground has created a friendship. This relationship with Debbie Downer however has people talking. My co-workers now think that i am secretly spending that hour a day with Debbie Downer squealing on them. It's complete bullshit.

On Tuesday after spending some time with D. D, as started replacing call numbers on the 3rd floor. Since I've been back i haven't really done any of the normal jobs. While everyone else is shelving, I'm typing call numbers, scanning books, and explaining things to new people. Apparently this means I'm doing absolutely nothing but being bossy and sucking up to D. D. Amidst my call number job, I heard Britton say "be careful what you say around Beckett. You know she goes back and tell Debbie Downer everything".

That motherfucker.

I generally like Britton. He's my crossword buddy. So to hear him say that was not only sucky but totally out of left field. Amanda saw me coming and said "She's standing right there". He then went on to say he was just kidding and that I know that he didn't mean anything by it, but the damage was already done.

It sucks majorly. I know it's probably karma for all the things i have said about Debbie Downer behind her back but those comments render on "she's sort of depressing and tells sad stories". They don't question whether she is squealing on people at work. Whatever the case, it made for an awkward Wednesday.

I hate being considered the mole. Especially when I'm not squealing. I can't help it that the boss likes me. I wish i could help it, because I'm sure the next two weeks would go by a lot smoother without glaring looks being thrown my way.

Rock & Roll Ain't Noise Pollution

I barely survived the pipe busting day. It was hell. I am not a heat person and the recent heat wave hitting the east coast is killing me. When my body gets too hot, my hands turn really red and begin to swell. I know i'm a freak, put me in some exhibit and call me lobster girl. It's do to a salt (electrolyte) imbalance which simply means i have to add more salt into my diet to compensate for the lack of it.

I didn't learn about this salt imbalance, up until a couple of months ago and have long suffered from overheating problems. I'm naturally an indoor person, but that doesn't mean i don't like the sun and sand like everyone else. The only difference is depending on the duration of my time spent in the sun can lead to me overheating and suffering from heat like problems that come with the sun.

After learning that my dorm (along with 67 other buildings on campus) would be without heat for at least 24 hours, i was resigned to sleeping in a hot room. I have been reading about Jesse James and the Old West lately (along with listening to the best damn soundtrack ever: The Assassination of Jesse James by the coward Robert Ford. Buy that shit. It's amazing), so i figured if they could handle the hot ass weather back in the day so could I.

I was actually looking forward to sleeping in the heat. I think the body does this weird thing where your skin begins to glisten (because of the sweat) and you feel a little cold. Just for the moment anyway. I was actually digging the glistening skin part at first. I stripped down to some shorts and a tank top and felt like Scout Finch from to "Kill A Mockingbird". I put on the Jesse James score by Nick Cave laid down on the floor with the fan blowing in my face and wrote a poem or two. All i needed was my hot greaser boyfriend and a pack of cigarettes i don't smoke to set the mood, and all would have been good.

The "this heat ain't so bad" mentality ended as quickly as it had come and by 8pm, i was cursing the damn heat and the glistening skin. My hands didn't swell like i thought it would but i began having heat cramps around 8 and from then on it was downhill. When i say it was hot, i mean it was burning hot. My skin actually ached it was so hot. I couldn't think of any cooling tips, so i just cried the night away with fan blowing in my face. Eventually i fell asleep, only to wake up occasionally throughout the night.

I don't see how people lived without AC, because i am totally spoiled by technology. I admit it. The AC eventually came on sometime Friday, but i was in the library the whole day working overtime to beat the heat and the stifling humidity in my dorm.

Coming back to work has been a little different than what i expected. At the end of the semester everyone hated Amanda, Debbie Downer was Debbie Downer, and i hung out with a core group of buddies who made the day go faster. Now however, everyone who hated Amanda doesn't work their anymore, Debbie Downer is still Debbie Downer except now with an obsession with her weight (bordering on an eating disorder), and a new clique has formed with my sometimes arch Nemesis Kathleen and Amanda, and my buddy Britton and some dude named Michael.

It's a little weird because even though i am not excluded from this group, i still feel like the odd man out. This doesn't bother me so much because 1) they don't really talk about anything of value and 2) i am so preoccupied with reading all the books in the damn fiction section that i would rather escape for a while and be by myself ( I recently found Mr. McDreamy's dissertation in the fiction section and have been trying to read it during my break) .

This doesn't mean that i don't hang out with them (because i do) but i am still trying to figure out how to balance social interaction while also comforting my own personal space. I need time away from people just to think and breathe. It's weird i know but i need that time like needing water on a hot day.

On Friday i spent the whole day hanging out with the new clique with the addition of Rock & Roll (also known as Stephen). Okay here it comes... i kind of have a crush on Rock and Roll and i don't know how to explain it. By all accounts he is sort of my type (whatever that means). He's cool and artsy, has a shitload of knowledge about everything, and is not too bad to look at. Usually i would totally stay away from him, ignore the crap out of him and deny deny deny any interest in him because it's easier than wanting to hang out with him and start having girly feelings for him.

But in an attempt to work on this anxiety thing, i am putting myself out there just to test the waters. Where I'm usually shy, quiet and distant, i am now a little more talkative even if what i say is stupid. I joked around with him on Friday, made an effort to ask about his interest, yadda yadda yadda.

And MotherF*cker, the weirdest thing is occurring...He seems generally interested in me and what i have to say. Which of course is freaking me out!!!! It takes all the energy in the world for me not the run in the opposite direction when i see him coming. This is new uncharted territory for me. He's suppose to be another Art Boy. You know someone i admire from a distance but who I don't really interact with. He's not suppose to talk back and ask me questions. Right?

Relationships freak me out, because i like control. Plain and Simple. I think it's what i got from anxiety. Though having anxiety is anything but a calm and collected thing, when i get antsy i can run away, hide in my corner, not deal with the problem and escape into the realms of my mind. I don't get to choose when anxiety comes but i get to control where i run too when it happens. I can just step out of the situation and be done with it.

Getting close to people is risky, because we are inclined to want things from the people in our lives. And the things we want dictate how we treat them, how we act toward them, and what we offer in return. I am uncomfortable with my wants and needs from relationships (from family, friends, co-workers, potential boyfriends) because they (my crazy wants: Love and Understanding) seem complicated to me (even though i know they aren't). A part of having relationships is being vulnerable and being vulnerable for me means not being in control.

Rock & Roll is posing this dilemma. He hangs around me when we are in a group, he walks with me through the library and asks me stuff about the notebook i carry around all day( it's a small black notebook that i write stories in). On Friday after a couple of us decided to hang out in the computer lab, he came with me to the second floor for no reason at all. There were about 4 of us in the computer lab and when we decided to leave we each headed in different directions. On the elevator he said he needed to go to level 1, i needed to go to level 2 and Amanda and Britton were headed to level 3.

Our library is built kind of backwards. Level 1 is in the basement instead of being the main floor. So Britton and Amanda got off first (on 3), and when i got to my floor (2) Rock & Roll decided to come with me...for no reason at all even though he was headed to another floor. I felt all weird and awkward around him. But instead of being all weird and awkward i just kept talking. And talking. He listened though, and totally came back upstairs with me when i said i was going to the office to hang out.

I naturally, being guarded, want to run away from him because he is showing interest. If I ignore him, put aside my growing interest in him, then i won't have to worry about getting too close where things don't seem to be in my control anymore. But in the past few days, I haven't run away. I've just completely gone and gotten myself all interested in a boy who has noticed me, and taken a liking to me (whether that be a friendship liking or a crush liking). And that is making me uncomfortable.

A Sinking Ship

During the summer time they do major construction on campus. For the most part it's has no effect on us summer students. Until today that is. The construction workers accidental busted some pipe in a building near our dorms, which has affected the AC in our building ALL DAY.


It's blazing hot on campus. I swear i saw a bird struggling to breathe yesterday, it was so hot. I emptied my water bottle near him so he would hopefully find the water and not die of thirst. It's not only hot here, but it's humid. Humidity does not make you want to play in the sun,you just want to escape it.


I walked into my dorm after work and thought i was going crazy. When you have AC you expect the cool air to hit you in the face and welcome you. The old navy in town has the AC hooked up o the door. Me and my mom fight over who can open the door every time we get there, just so we can feel the rush of cool air that greets you. I was expecting that moment today when i walked into my dorm. A cool breeze from the hear. Instead I walked in and it was the same degrees inside as it was outside. I stepped in, stepped out, stepped in, stepped out and finally concluded that i was not suffering from a disorder but that it was really MotherF*cking hot in my Motherf*cking dorm.



Luckily i don't have class tomorrow so my restless night of sleep will not affect my note taking abilities in the morning. It may affect my book shelving ability but i don't do much book shelving these days ( i just find a book i want to read, and read it. for 3 hours a day)



In other totally related news I'm beginning to feel really sorry for my sociology professor. The summer school crowd is a very different group of kids. We either have to be here or want to be here. And the two extremes are very bad. I think my sociology class falls into the group of people who have to be here because no one (including me) says anything for 2 hours.

My professor is working his ass off up on stage to engage us, inspire us, makes us laugh...SOMETHING. Yet all we do for 2 hours and 15 minutes is stare off as our desperate professor bombs in front of a hard crowd. It's so painful to watch, that even I want to say something in class to drown out the sound of crickets.

I'm beginning to think being a professor is like being an improv actor or something. The stage is yours and hopefully with a good crowd you will get the feedback you need to keep the act going. If not, you are literally standing up in front of a bunch people hoping that someone will crack a smile or show some interest. He's a funny guy, but the combination of an early class (8 am ) and a bunch of students who have to take this class (rather than those who want to) is not working in his favor.

He shouldn't have told us on Monday that the class was going to be extremely easy. I think in his attempt to win us over, he pretty much said that the test were going to be easy, the homework was going to be easy, and there is no way you can make less than a B in this class. I guess he was assuming that telling us it would be an easy class, would make us want to participate in discussion. Instead because we know we can't fail the class, we don't really see any reason to participate. Which is making this the most boring class of all time.

Even I cannot keep my eyes open for this one. Without anyone talking (including me, I know) it is sort of hard to pay attention. Besides him being funny, the class is almost unbearable. I must note that our nonparticipation is not all of our fault. We don't really have anything to ask or feed off of (rule number one for improv). He wants us to be engaged but he isn't posing any questions that make us think. He didn't even assign us a book until yesterday.

I am hoping next week will be a little better. I can't bear 3 more weeks of awkward silence and desperation from my professor. Being in his class is like watching a sinking ship go down. It's just bad.

Time for me to sweat out the next few hours in my hot room. I'm hoping the AC will come on while i am sleeping, if i can even get to sleep in this humidity.

Just Another Day at the Office

I started work today. Yeah ! =(

went to the library yesterday to tell Kathleen, Amanda or Debbie Downer that i could start Tuesday at 1 o'clock. I figure i could work from 1-4 MTWTH and from 9-1 on Friday. I can't imagine being there all day, and with this amount of hours i can make a fair amount of money in June.

When i got to the office yesterday, of course no one was there. The door to Kathleen and Debbie Downers office was closed, and when i went to scan the aisle there were no familiar faces.
I saw some girl shelving and i figured i could tell her to tell someone that i was here for the summer and ready to work. She gave me the cold shoulder as if i was annoying her and said she would pass the message along. Whatever. I was too exhausted from my hectic first day to even think about shelving any books.

My first day of classes was interesting. My sociology of the sexes professor is this crazy, and possibly anarchist, man who curses like a sailor and gives us poignant advice such as "don't drink and swim. It's a dangerous thing to be drunk and near water". Other than his outbursts of insanity, he's pretty knowledgeable about the subject matter, and he makes me laugh. He spent about 20 minutes discussing why it's a lot more dangerous to have drunks on the road than crackhead driving. "You don't see too many crack heads driving and endangering the lives of people on the street. I'm just saying". He scares me with his loud voice and moments were he can't remember things, but i can handle this class.

Though i wanted my Art Criticism class to be "The One" it was not so. Last summer my American Lit class was "The One", which i describe as a class you love more than life itself. I'm usually not a participator but even for this class i made an effort to say something, even if it was stupid. Plus the professor loved me, so she favored the stuff i said. "The One" classes are the ones that change how you think about things. They are hard, and time consuming, but you learn so much that it doesn't matter how much effort you have to put in to it.

I wanted this class to be a critical approach to Art. Like a literature class but instead of analyzing novels, poems or short stories we would analyze paintings. It is listed as an Art Education class instead of an Art History which gave me some clue that my dream class would be a bust...which it was.

It was a small class of 11 people and one artsy teacher who lost her glasses before class started and spent 10 minutes searching for it. We met in my favorite building on campus (the art building) and introduced ourselves one by one. Not only was I the only non art major (there was a theater graduate student...but I'm including theater into the arts) but i was the only person who doesn't want to teach at the elementary or high school level. The class is not really a criticism class but rather how to approach teaching art to kids. The syllabus was ridiculous. She wants us to check out some art at gallery's, create some actual artwork, critique each others art, and then teach each other about art.

I dropped that class right after she let us go. I'm a writer. Yes. But i cannot do art to save my life. For the first assignment she wanted us to create something from things in nature. Our creation had to symbolize a social issue that affects us. What kind of bull crap is that. During the 15 minute break, everyone was throwing out ideas and i literally sat there thinking "Create what from what". The class was way out of my league which is sort of disappointing.

I am now taking a History class, which isn't too bad. I like history and my professor is pretty awesome. Apparently if you have a British accent, looking like Moby is considered hot instead of not. He is this skinny professor with no hair who wears a gold necklace that sparkles next to his chest hair. In all other circumstances he would be considered average. He's not ugly, in fact he's pretty nice looking in a "I wear a speedo and call people 'chap' " sort of way. He has a British accent though which apparently makes him the George Clooney of History professors. Go figure.

I'm not particularly thrilled with my classes this semester, but i don't hate them. I think i can deal with it for a month. After my fun filled day of lectures i went to work. I was nervous i must admit. Seeing all those new faces yesterday made my antsy and weird. I don't always make the best first impression and the people i saw yesterday didn't look all too...warm and welcoming.

When i walked in Debbie Downer was talking to this hott guy with dark hair. He had rock and roll written all over him and i knew he was crush worthy from the moment i saw him. Debbie was pretty excited to see me when i walked in, she introduced me to Rock & Roll and filled me in on the new people and any developing office drama. Despite being totally attracted to Rock & Roll (whose name is Stephen) i didn't make a complete ass of myself. We clicked instantly, which freaks me out because we know how i treat guys i like. Even if i had to fake being comfortable, i would not let myself get all weird around him. And so far so good.

We have a shit load of new people, all of whom i met today. There's Sam who has beaver cleaver written all over him. He looks like he was plucked out of 1950. He introduced himself with a huge grin and shook my hands. He is like the purest soul i've ever run into, and i have to make an effort not to curse in front of him. The girl i ran into yesterday is named Mary Francis ( and yes you have to call her by both names). She's sort of standoffish, and i don't mind because i don't really care to know her. There's this one huge dude, who had a wedgie that he picked in front of me and Amanda. And i thought i was bad with first impressions. There are a handful of newbies i don't really know, because they walked in and walked out.

One of the newbies is actually in my history class. He spells his name like Stephen but pronounces it the french way. Physically he's like the gay best friend i've always wanted. He's attractive, dresses nice and pays attention to you when you talk. On the negative, he totally has a "i am so much better than you " attitude. If the conversation bores him he doesn't try to hide it. He interjects with an annoyed "really" "wow" which smells of bullshit. I'm on the fence of whether i like him or not but i have a whole month of class and work to see if we would be okay friends.

Everyone was generally happy to see me. I didn't get too much work done because i was talking with everyone about everything. I hate that social situations leave me high and dry. Even though i had a good time laughing and hanging out, i left the library feeling oddly displaced. It's this weird side effect of anxiety that i have yet to explain. You can be with a crowd full of people enjoying yourself and still feel utterly alone and like you shouldn't be there.

I just have to remember to put that feeling behind me. People wouldn't make an effort to talk to me if they didn't think i had something interesting to say. All and all it was a good day, but now i have 40 pages of American History to read before bed. Geez.

Being John Malkovich

Well I'm here. At school. Again.



I know i wrote about being all excited about summer school on Friday, but i must admit as soon as i woke up this morning...I didn't want to go. Sue me.



Some days i am so DONE with school. Other days i love being here. Today i just wanted to crawl back under the covers and forget this whole Summer School thing. But i have to graduate, so i woke up real early this morning, got dressed, and me and my mom headed back to school for another round of "move me into a dorm"

Unlike last summer i had an option of which dorm i wanted to live in this time around. I could stay in the dorms which usually house frat boys. That dorm is pretty shitty and are located a far distance from my classes. The only real plus is it's a private bedroom (no roomies!). Or i could move into the honors apartment, located in the very nice area of campus with TREES. It's an apartment style dorm, so i would have my own room but i would have to share the kitchen/living room/ and bathroom with someone (1 roomie). But it's close to all of my classes and who doesn't want to live in the honors dorm.

Guess which one i picked.

On the outside the Honors dorm in the shitz. It's decked out in country club glamour. The birds are chirping, the trees sway in the summer breeze, and the big green lawn out front beckons you. Unfortunately inside is like a crack house, filled with it's share of bugs and dark walls (i'm waiting for the toothless hooker any moment). I can only describe the paint as "gravy" and the carpet as "meat loaf". When we walked into the apartment some of it's tenants greeted us. It was like lord of the flies had conveyed at the sink to discuss what to do with Jack or Piggy ( i love that novel). The flies flew in every which direction once the door open. It was pretty gross. My mom went Rambo on them with a spray she bought, but even now i am swatting at a few.

The place is small and dark, almost like a dungeon. If the walls weren't a shade of beef gravy it wouldn't seem so cave like, but i guess the university missed the memo. I guess the saying is right "you pay for the view not so much the space". I don't mind the cramped quarters so much, but i do mind that the windows are small. We only have one in each bedroom and it's literally like a small hole in the wall. I am being to think it's a portal into John Malkovich's mind. I won't test it out though.

All I get for a view is a parking lot and a lonely tree. I question closing the blinds for privacy but then i just feel claustrophobic and oddly alone.

The roomie so far is a no show and it's 8pm. I don't want to get all excited and stake claim that no one is coming and i have the apartment to myself, but i don't know of anyone else who moves in after 9pm. There are two entries into this particular apartment, because i am close to an exit. I keep hearing doors and voices (assuming it's my roomie) only to realize it's someone from the hall. I am holding my breath for the roomie to be a no show, but i don't want to get my hopes up

Classes start tomorrow. My sociology class is first at 8am and then Art Criticism. I am both excited and petrified of this Art Criticism class. There are only 12 people and i feel like she is going to want hardcore participation because it is an upper level class. Though i am not academically lazy this is my last undergraduate semester at my university and i don't want a hard class. I would much rather sit, take notes, take the exams and get out of there. The class does sound pretty interesting though. I bought the books today (after all the moving) and apparently she is implementing some philosophy with the art stuff.

I only have until tomorrow to drop/add a course, so i'll go to the class, get the syllabus, check out what she has planned for the next four weeks and see if it's not to much for me to handle. If so, there is a history class waiting for me, and i don't mind another go at US history.