Tennis Prodigy?

I'm home for the holidays. I flew in on Sunday and have been spending my days with the new love of my life....THE WII.

I will surface once I have completed a very heated tennis match. Damn you Andy Roddick.

Oh, and I had a wicked awesome interview (via the phone) today with a literary agency. I sold myself pretty well to the editor (who seemed to like my spunk) and I should hear something back from her soon.

I promise a real post tomorrow.

I survived the opening night of Twilight...Unscathed though Deaf

So tonight I closed. Closing on a Friday always sucks. Closing on the day a popular teen book turned movie opens with hot actors and a campy plot...it almost calls for a disaster. The bookstore I work in is located in a mall-well sort of. We are located in a building that holds a popular retail shopping staple, a clothing store, and a movie theater. On any given day a crap load of people come in and out of this place especially on the weekends.



Today (Friday) was my last day at work for a whole week. I leave on my 1 week break Sunday and I won't return to the bookstore until that following Monday. Of course I was schedule to close my last day there and not only was our store open an extra hour but we had to face the endless amount of teenagers hanging out in the aisle until their movie (Twilight) started.



I complain about work a lot. In my head. Out loud. To my mom. On this blog. But I generally like the people that i work with. The ones who aren't way older than me are in college or have just graduated. Unlike my college days of feeling disconnected from people my age I am doing okay here in the social department. Everyone is really nice and I have heard that I am "an easy person to like". Why couldn't college have been like this.





Oddly enough we were an all girl staff tonight and we tried to make the best of it. As expected teenagers were all over the place. In the Judaic section, Children's Section, and of course at the Stephenie Meyer fixture. Every hour we would have a handful of people asking for the Twilight series and I had to prevent myself from yelling at them to read something else.





I think it's weird (from what I know of the books) that a book about an awkward beautiful outcast who falls in love with a vampire has attracted girls who admire Paris Hilton and wear boots with tights. If Belle is anything like what people are describing then shouldn't the slightly introverted, doe- eyed dark haired girl reading Austen be captivated by these books instead of the loud mouthed bleached and tanned ones. It's very perplexing and grating.



There was one girl (surrounding by mirror images of her) standing in the aisle squealing about the series. She was clutching a Twilight inspired journal and exclaimed that she just had to have it. I wanted to tell her that a journal is for writing shit in and unless she wanted to waste her money on a journal she would never use ,to put the merchandise down. But instead i gave her a wry smile and let my heart break a couple of aisles over.



Despite the madness, we closed at 11 followed by completing our nightly chores to a Prince mix some girl in the cafe brought us. At 12 we were done and we got to leave earlier than I have ever seen us leave on a Friday night. Most nights I call a cab to take me home. I don't live far,but at midnight when it is 23 degrees outside and the wind is smacking you in the face ,walking can be no fun. Especially with teenagers roaming all over the place. I was only a teenager a few years ago, but they scare the crap out of me. Especially teenage boys. The girls (not all of course) are superficial and text away on their cute phones, but the boys are still boys on the brink of sexuality.



In the Judaic section there was about 10 of them sitting in the aisle. I of course had to put a book there, and I chickened out once they turned their heads toward me. I went back to customer service where my new friend, and co-worker Abagail, was shifting through some books. She is a 26 year old PHD student who plays the cello. She is brilliant, quiet, sarcastic, and Canadian. She talks with a dry enthusiasm and sometimes (as i did in the beginning) she can be mistaken for a snob. In all actuality she is sort of sullen. I mean we get along well, I make her laugh, she makes me laugh, she has a cool interest in music (she brought in a wicked orchestral mix when we closed a couple of weeks ago). She loves Twilight and romance novels but she admits that they are campy and silly. I like working with her (and even hanging out with her) because she is an interesting person to be around despite her sullen qualities. I don't really know how to explain it.



Maybe sullen isn't the right word. But there are moments when I catch her looking broken. She is attractive and of course has that sarcastic thing written all over her face, but there is still a hint of sadness. Sometimes I want to ask her if something is wrong, but I am never sure if she usually carries that hint of gloom with her.


Anyway, when I got to customer service I told Abigail about the boys lounging in the Judaic section. She grabbed some books, marched down the aisle and told me she would take care of them. A moment later she came back, slightly defeated and perplexed.

"There are a lot of them!" she said, putting the books on the desk. After concluding that were were both chicken shit, we choose to tell the security guard that there were some boys hanging out in the section and if he could tell them to hang out somewhere else. It was a small triumph for two scared girls but we prevailed. We sort of giggled at the event, and then she offered to drive me home when I mentioned that I hated waiting for the cab.

She lives only a few blocks away and said it was no problem to take me home whenever I needed a ride. On the way to her car after the store closed she said she wanted to tell me something. There is a dude at our job who she has a crush on (and who wouldn't: he's the hottest red head I have ever seen). She said that they have been talking on and off for a while, hinting at the idea of hanging out outside of work. When she told me this I noticed that weird sullen thing again. In between her general excitement that he has taken an interest in her, she was sad and apprehensive about the whole thing.

She told me she was in no position to start a relationship with a boy, because her previous ones have been disastrous. "But he's nice and has a good face" she concluded as if those qualities alone made all the difference. I listened quietly, squealing when the moment was right and nodding my head when it was appropriate. Then out of the blue she tells me that she has and is suffering from bouts of depression. She hasn't been feeling well these last couple of weeks and even requested some days off to just deal with it. She said she was so sick of being sad that she wanted to deal with it head on and be done with it.

"it comes on and off you know and I just want to be able to function again like a real person". God. I wanted to cry. With the streets lights on there was a cadence of dark and light on her face as we walked down the street to her car. Her confession was so silent it almost didn't seem real. I thought maybe I had made the confession myself but I realized that i hadn't said anything in a while and the voice that made the confession was not my own. She told the manager that I hate about her recent depression, and said manager suggested she hang out with people at work. Abagail mentioned that she was interested in cute red-headed boy and now she wonders if the manager went to him and urged him to hang out with her.

"I don't want someone to hang out with me for pity" she said vehemently, as is she had experienced that pity before. I told her that i don't think he would do something like that but it can't help to ask should she be concerned about it. During the drive to my house we talked about loneliness, the job, and my shittastic interview on Monday. She invited me over (when I get back from vacation) to see her huge apartment. She told me to have a good time during the Holidays and I shot her back the same line. When she drove away, we waved to each other and there it was again, her smile that never really looks like a smile.

She is complicated, I know, but i really want to be her friend. There is something about her that reminds me of myself and need I say my own bouts with the big D. Sometimes if i look close enough I can see that she is hanging on by a string and I sort of want to be there for her, just so she knows that someone understands.

Though i haven't read Twilight I have heard that the main character is an annoying, male dependent, angst ridden teen tart. It's probably why I don't want to read the series. I like my characters to be strong, independent and fiery with a sadness that comes on and off from somewhere deep down inside of them. For some reason Abigail reminds me of those characters I use to write. Self Sufficient yet broken. I think that's why I like her so much and yet am so frightened for her.

I leave tomorrow for Thanksgiving Break. I am too excited to see my mom, brother, and to visit my school again. I am finally going to buy a college t-shirt, I actually miss the place enough to spend a crap load on college related merchandise.

Mix-Match

I want on an interview today for another internship. I know. I know. I have some explaining to do.

Last week I applied to an internship for a online networking site. No it wasn't facebook, myspace, or anything like that. It's another site that wants to achieve the same thing, except lacks the popularity of those other ones. Furthermore this site is tailored to those in the NYC area who have a pension for good times.

I knew, soon after applying, that this internship was not for me. I am not a dull, boring person...but I don't care about NY nightlife unless we are talking art shows, indie concerts and bistros. Regardless, I studied up on the website, got a sense of their 'objective' and tried to go in with a brave face.

I've been feeling crummy lately and surprisingly it has nothing to do with not having an internship. When I am sick, my whole body gives up on me and regardless of medicine and plenty of fluids, I am slow to recover from illnesses. I am use to TLC from my mom or at least the comfort of my dorm room to sooth my ailing self. But being miles away from home and needless to say getting NO TLC from my aunt, I was forced to recover on my own.

I am not fully recovered from this cold but I still wanted to make it to the interview. All weekend I was feeling a little...weird about the whole thing. I am interesting, and lively and fun...but not in that 'party hardy' sort of way. I recently checked out a book from the bookstore called "bohemian manifesto". By all accounts I am not a bohemian, or at least i don't think so. Regardless, sometimes I think I vacillate between bohemian and well the 'real world'. The book is not suppose to be serious. It is written by Laren Stover who was raised by a bohemian mother and her two bohemian dads. It is an observation of the culture through various understanding of the bohemian lifestyle. Plus there are pictures. Pictures!!!

Nevertheless there is a passage that pretty much states that bohemians go against the grain in every way possible. That [they] would rather be starving artist than apart of the "system'. That's sort of a stretch for me, I don't particularly mind the system but I don't want a crummy internship if that means I can write stuff. Let me explain.

So today i made my way to 23rd street via the 6 train for my interview. There are times I completely love this city. Maneuvering myself from grand central to the subway and finally through Park Ave made me feel alive and at peace. Sure I was stuck on a crowded subway in between a old lady and a tall man, and sure I got lost somewhere between 5th and 6th avenue but it was exhilarating. When I made my way to the office, I was so proud of myself. With only a map and my Chuck Taylor's I made it to the building unscathed.

I should have known things were not going to go well when I was cursed out by a very irate guard. Most buildings in the city have a guard sitting at a desk before you enter. When i came in, I saw that he was on the phone so i it took upon myself to read the directory on the wall to determine that i was in the right place. I went outside to call my mom, and then came back into the building and went directly upstairs. This did not seem like a problem to me.

When I got to the second floor 'said' security guard came upstairs a few minutes later (the 2nd floor has a bathroom). When he recognized my face he felt the need to scold me for entering the building without telling him where i was going. He was not pleased with me at all. While he was yelling at me, I was taking off my converse to put on my taller shoes. His accent was too thick for me to fully understand what he was saying, but i figured the finger being wagged in my face could only mean that he was pissed.

I sort of looked at him innocently with the shoes in my hand. After a small pout and a "i thought you were on the phone i didn't want to be rude" i apologized to the psycho guard. He seemed both satisfied and regretful about the exchange and went skating down the hallway in anger. Of course when he came back he said I could sit down on the floor if I wanted instead of awkwardly standing in the hallway. Maybe he felt guilty for overreacting.

Nevertheless at 1:50 I made my way down the hall towards the door on the left. As soon as I walked in I knew it wasn't the place for me. A bunch of preppy girls gave me the stank eye as i entered the spacious loft. All the heads turned at the girl (me) with the cardigan sweater and "organically grown" tote. I took a seat on a big couch in the corner of the room and waited for my interview. While I was waiting I managed to hear a certain conversation between Head Intern and her intern minions from the corner.

Because the site is trying to build a reputation for itself, they rely heavily on promotion. Promotion from themselves. They interns blog and write pieces in order to attract people to the site. The Head Intern was explaining to the girls how to write a piece that incorporated the sites name.

It went something like this:

HEAD INTERN: So lets say you just went to this nightclub that we promote on our site. When you write the piece say something like "hey me and my girls hit up this really cool club last night. We had the best night ever because there were a bunch of hot guys and the music was insane. Our night was awesome and me my girls had the best time ever!!!! We got the info on this place from [insert the name of the production company] and I am coming back as soon as possible =)." So that's pretty much what i want you guys to write while incorporating the name of the company.

My soul was crushed. I would never be proud of putting my name on something like that. Ever.The people who worked there were pretty much...well interested in night clubs and other promotional things. The girls were young and flaky and one of the only guys there kept saying "dude". Like excessively.

By the time I was called into the cubicle for the interview it was apparent by me and the person in charge that this was not the editorial internship I am looking for. I am into weird books, foreign movies, and taking pictures. I don't do nightclubs, fashion, and other crap like that. We entertained each other for a while as she went over the site and I pretended to care. When it was all over and done with I thanked her for having me in her office and that it was a pleasure to get a sense of her site.

I think we both turned each other down respectively, but I didn't feel so bad about this rejection.

I may sound pretentious right now but i couldn't imagine subjecting myself to writing fluff just to have an internship. I want to be taken seriously as a writer...whatever that means. I don't know anything about fashion, I like reading celebrity gossip but not writing about it, and furthermore if I have to write something like "that was da bomb" to get published...well then I'll pass.

I don't feel bad. I was very productive today and I know something will come my way. Something with people who sort of like the same things I do. Something where I get to read people's work or write some of my own that means something to a small community of like-minded people. Maybe I am a bohemian. But of course giving myself a label demotes my status completely.

I didn't know 'being someone' would be so hard. I am trying to become this quasi relevant person in a field that keeps rejecting me. I fear that i will get use to rejection and forget to strive for everything I imagine. So far I am keeping hope alone because honestly I'd rather struggle really hard to be somebody that settle to be mediocre.

6 days until I can go home. I am too excited.

The Night World.

One from the land of kings long forgotten;
One from the hearth which still holds the spark;
One from the Day World where two eyes are watching;
One from the twilight to be one with the dark.
-The Night World

Can it be? It is Friday night and I am not at work. No? I must be dreaming.

I have a cold. A really bad cold that makes me feel crabby and weak. Though i did not have to close tonight, I still had to drag myself into work for an 8 hour day selling teenagers those stupid Stephenie Myer books.

I've been meaning to say this for a long time, but i judge the people who read those books. As a fan of vampire lit, I am not even a tad bit interested in reading those books. From what I hear the writing is bad, really bad, though it has captivated the world and teenage audiences EVERY WHERE.

I feel bad.

When i was in middle school I was obsessed with LJ Smith books. Her books extend vampire teen love because they are all about soulmates and the secret society of vampires, werewolves and 'old souls' that roam the earth (but more importantly who threaten the safety of 'our' world. It was an intricate plot that i loved so much. The quote above has to do with four important characters that could save and destroy the whole world should they be captured by the wrong group ).

I mean THOSE were good books. THOSE had substance. I have not read Twilight but i have a bitter chip on my shoulder every time someone requests that book. I am pissed because Stephenie Meyer is just some chick who decided one day she wanted to write a book. I'm pissed because, as far as i can tell, there is nothing original about that story, and I am pissed because why the hell aren't people reading LJ SMITH. Soulmate is a classic vampire love story about teenagers but more importantly about the Night World.

Every time someone asks me where they can find the book I cannot help but hide my contempt. I want to ask "why" but instead point them in the direction of the Stephenie Meyer display and silently curse her and her stupid books ( i however do not hold this same feeling for the True Blood craze. I like that series, it's sort of original).

This could just be the medicine talking though. Tomorrow I am going to buy one of LJ Smiths book. I feel like I have to support her, as the whole world goes crazy for TWILIGHT.

I am going home next week. I put in my request about a month ago, and am looking forward to seeing my mom. Being so far away makes it hard for me to visit when i want to. But i miss my mom, and my bed, and though my cats won't be there to welcome me with purrs and kisses...i miss just being home.

Time for bed. I will regret this post in the morning. But whatever. U Suck Stephenie Meyer. U suck hard.

Saddest Girl Story

I have been ignoring Marie via the phone again, only because I don't wish to hear her talk about her boy problem. Not boys but boy. One boy. Who she likes and won't stop talking about. I am not depressed but if our friendship consists of me giving boy advice while she ignores my entry level career crisis...well then I can do without her constant calls for awhile.

She did forward this list to me though and because am going through a writing crisis as of late, I thought i'd share the results:

1.Put your iPod (itunes) on shuffle.
2. For each question, press the next button to get your answer.
3. YOU MUST WRITE THAT SONG NAME DOWN NO MATTER HOW SILLY IT SOUNDS!

IF SOMEONE SAYS "IS THIS OKAY" YOU SAY?
Da Da Dada.

WHAT WOULD BEST DESCRIBE YOUR PERSONALITY?
Trolley

WHAT DO YOU LIKE IN A GUY/GIRL?
Your Bulldozer

WHAT IS YOUR LIFE'S PURPOSE?
Escape

WHAT IS YOUR MOTTO?
Harder to Breathe

WHAT DO YOUR FRIENDS THINK OF YOU?
Human Behavior

WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT VERY OFTEN?
Sailed On

WHAT IS 2+2?
The Blower's Daughter (this made me laugh so hard)

WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR BEST FRIEND?
River Below

WHAT DO YOU THINK OF THE PERSON YOU LIKE?
Adlai Stevenson

WHAT IS YOUR LIFE STORY?
Can't Tell Me Nothing

WHAT DO YOU WANT TO BE WHEN YOU GROW UP?
Closing

WHAT DO YOU THINK WHEN YOU SEE THE PERSON YOU LIKE?
Nothing Left to Lose

WHAT DO YOUR PARENTS THINK OF YOU
Gentle Angels

WHAT WILL YOU DANCE TO AT YOUR WEDDING?
Luxurious

WHAT WILL THEY PLAY AT YOUR FUNERAL?
Promiscuous (i resent that)

WHAT IS YOUR HOBBY/INTEREST?
Amazing Life

WHAT IS YOUR BIGGEST SECRET?
Eh Hee

WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR FRIENDS?
Pedestal

WHAT'S THE WORST THING THAT COULD HAPPEN?
Saul Bellow

HOW WILL YOU DIE?
As

WHAT IS THE ONE THING YOU REGRET?
Just Want you around

WHAT MAKES YOU LAUGH?
I can't even left my head

WHAT MAKES YOU CRY?
L.E.S Artises

WILL YOU EVER GET MARRIED?
Mama's room

WHAT SCARES YOU THE MOST?
The Sea

DOES ANYONE LIKE YOU?
All will be well

IF YOU COULD GO BACK IN TIME, WHAT WOULD YOU CHANGE?
Querido Amigo

WHAT HURTS RIGHT NOW?
Spider Web

WHAT WILL YOU POST THIS AS?
Saddest Girl Story

Time to sleep. I don't want to do anything but sleep these days. When I have a plan (for my career, life, and general direction) I will be able to drag myself out of this funk. Until then, my bed gets to carry the weight of my grumpiness.

....More Like Trudging Towards Something.

2nd internship is a bust. Per usual my question "is the position filled" was answered with "position has been filled thanks for the interest"

Motherfucker.

Winter is fast approaching and the possibility of me getting an internship soon is fading.

I am not mad. I am not sad. I am just frustrated beyond belief. I have so much drive and so much determination but i feel unpolished and I think that is shrouding my potential. I keep hearing my 11th grade journalism teacher telling me that i am a "diamond in the rough". Her voice irritates my head and i want nothing to brush her words off and go to sleep.

But she has a point. Everyone who has ever said that about me has a point.

I need a new plan. I need a new sense of direction.

Slouching Towards...Something.

Election day was a blast.

After a long day of avoiding news coverage I settled on the couch around 7 o'clock to watch the election unfold before me. No matter who your candidate was during this election, you have to admit that this was a historic event.

My aunt, who voted, did not want to watch the news at first. She came home late after waiting in line to vote and wanted to watch something that was....more entertaining. Of course once she came in and saw me and Michelle camped out in front of the tv flipping back and forth from NBC, CBS, and ABC she joined in too.

We had chips and dip, and of course a level of enthusiasm that made for a good night. We supplied our own commentary over the newscasters on tv. It was not highly intelligent commentary but we laughed our asses off throughout much of the night. We live in a blue state and because of this there was a lingering fear that if things turned out difficulty...something was getting torn down.

The Republican house is only a few blocks away and ever so often we would half-jokingly wonder if a full fledged riot was going to break out should McCain win. Every time we heard a police siren we ran to the window to peer outside only to have or fears calmed by silence.

Even Michelle joined in. For a 3 year old she picks up on things quickly. My aunt bought her the cutest "vote" t-shirt which she ended up spilling a ton of yogurt on. She was at first very confused when we would only clap for states that turned blue on the map. She concluded some time later that "Red is bad tonight. Blue is good. That's why you clap". I figure i'll save the whole "neither party is bad just represent different approaches to running to the country" speech for another night. So we just kind of agreed with her in the context of this election.

My mom and Marie called sporadically throughout the night. My mom wanted to talk about the states gained by the democratic party and Marie wanted to talk about...her guy problem. At 11, well after Michelle had fallen asleep in a pile of chips and dip, the president-elect was announced.

I don't even know where the scream came from. It sounded like my voice, except completely outside of my nature. It was high pitched and jovial and unadulterated in it's force. My aunt, who was as glued to the news as I was, screamed as well and jumped around the living. We eventually fell into a hug that spoke of relief.

The magnitude of the election did not hit me until the next morning. And while i was alone replaying everything in my head, I cried because maybe we can be anything we ever wanted to be despite race, gender, and socio-economic beginnings. As long as we have this drive, this unending pursuit of our dreams we can accomplish anything. We can inspire change.

My moment of contemplation was disrupted by a loud knock on the door. When I got to the stairs I heard the sound of Michelle's husky voiced babysitter coughing outside of the door. It seems we may have done too much partying on election night which caused Michelle to wake up with a wicked awful stomach ache in the morning. A stomach ache that caused her to throw up all over the babysitters house.

The babysitter called my aunt before bringing Michelle home. Because she had thrown up all over her clothes, she wearing a big t-shirt with her mary jane shoes when the babysitter handed her over.

Michelle is a stubborn, defiant, bossy yet a considerate and sweet child. She voices her opinions more than we would like to hear sometimes and we are still trying to teach her her manners. Regardless of our constant bickering about 'being nice to people' 'asking for things without yelling' and 'cleaning up after one's self'' she is doll to hang out with. She stood before me defeated by the upset stomach and collapsed on the floor crying that she didn't feel well.

The one thing that i regret saying when i was in high school (and in journals) was that i didn't want to get to married and have kids. I take it back only because kids respond to me with complete faith that I will take care of them. I have a maternal instinct that shocks me sometimes and even embarrasses me. I am patient yet stern, and I listen to kids ideas in an attempt to stir their imagination.

I know that I will forever sit at the kids table during family reunions not because I am immature, but because kids respond to me with a tad bit of respect. I have become the cool adult that i use to admire when my family came together for the holidays. There was always that one person, who was younger than the adults but close enough to our age to still connect with us.

Yesterday as Michelle barfed all over the house i held back her hair as she threw up in the toilet and I tried to console her stomach. To make her feel better I pretended as if i had a stomach ache too in hopes that she would mimic my actions (drinking water slowly, resting with my blanket...things like that). At noon, after she had all but exhausted herself from throwing up all morning she wanted to come in my 'room' and watch tv. We climbed under the blankets and watched some Family Guy until she faded off into sleep.

Sometimes i wonder if i am this self defeating person. I wonder if i push things away (or discard them with my words) because I don't feel like I deserve them. I don't know where it comes from. I did not have a horrible childhood, my teens years sucked...but whose didn't. My family life was okay and often magical. I am a product of divorce but i feel matured by the experience or at least that is what i tell myself.

But as I continue to struggle with relationships and getting close to people, I wonder if i push them away because I'm afraid of the things that i really want. That small ache that turns my hard facade into this nurturing , vulnerable and sensitive person consumed with a need to be wanted.

Michelle woke up soon after her nap and threw up all over my blanket. She apologized before slumping to the floor and spitting up water. After I cleaned her face and changed her clothes for the fifth time that morning, we jumped back into bed and discussed the picture of her and her brother on the wall.

"That's me" she said "When I'm no sick" Then she pointed to herself and said "Not like me now who is sick". It was the cutest thing ever, and I couldn't help but laugh.

I just hope that I haven't jinxed myself in some huge colossal way. That my proclamation of not wanting a family or a husband doesn't smack me in the face. I do want those things so deeply, I mean not today or even tomorrow but one day. I realize that it is more important to me than i could have ever imagined.

Back to some Joan Didion. She really is the writer I have always wanted to be. I can't get enough of her and I am tempted to purchase this book (despite it being 30 bucks). I emailed the editor yesterday to inquire about the internship. I have done my part to convince him that I am the person for the job, and now I can do nothing but wait. I am ready to start writing something...anything and getting it into print. This newspaper gig could give me the experience i need. Why does waiting suck so bad?

Election Day

I don't have to work today!!!!! Which means I get to sit at 'home' for the better part of the day/ evening watching the election on tv.

I've equipped myself with a few items:

• Nachos and queso cheese
• Portable heater to keep my feet warm and snugly
• awesome grandpa pajama pants for lounging
• A book to read should I get too nervous watching the news
• My computer to surf the net
• Halloween Candy for munching
• and tissues should things not turn out the way i want it to.

Luckily I qualified for an absentee ballot so i got to avoid the long lines at the polls. I don't get a cool 'I voted' sticker though, which would have gotten me a free coffee and donut at various stores.

This is only my second election and I am freaking out. I don't talk about politics on this blog because I don't want to alienate anyone who may have a different view from my own. But I am really hoping that this historic election results in our nation getting a president that speaks of change. It's time for a change.

Back to flipping channels. I can't bear the tension of election day, I may have to watch the cartoon network for a while.

We Tell Ourselves Stories In Order to Live.

I had a crappastic Halloween, thanks to the artist formerly known as my crush.

I was told that my favorite manager thinks I'm lovely and for this reason I now only work nights at the bookstore so I can train with her. I am receptive to learning new things, I look eager and helpful, and because of this I am given many projects to do.

I was not happy that I would have to work Halloween, especially because I couldn't find a costume. I shouldn't have looked for one on the week of Halloween because by the time I jumped on the costume train, everything was taken. However, I still went into work in good spirits. It was Halloween after all...and nothing but fun can be had on that day.

I was also kind of excited that I would get to work with and see my ex-crush. For me I never fully fall 'out of like' with someone. I just sort of move on, and ignore the bubbles in my stomach when said ex-crush comes by. I was serious when I promised myself that i would not continue to have a crush on someone if there was no potential for something serious. I cannot go through my whole life on the edges of a relationship because I am too afraid to take some sort of action.

After putting several things about this guy at the bookstore in perspective (he's in his mid 30's, in a relationship, and clearly nervous around me) I decided that instead of being 'in like' with him i would just be friendly. I get along with everyone else at work except him because he spends all of his time ignoring me. So on Friday I was all excited to put this new plan into play.

But when Ex-Crush wasn't blatantly ignoring me on Friday he was just plain rude to me, the WHOLE NIGHT. Like he physically could not stand being near me. And this is not an exaggeration. We were short staffed on Friday because everyone my age requested that day off. For this reason there were only about 4 of us working on the floor (including our cashier). By 6 o'clock Ex came in wearing an awesome costume (he was the scarecrow from the wizard of oz) and when he walked by me I said "What an awesome costume". He scoffed at me in a grouchy tone "Hello" and then went to talk to someone else. When another employee gave him a compliment on his costume he was the person I had my crush on in the first place; nice, receptive, charismatic in a stupid outfit, and witty.

At first I was like "okay maybe I caught him at a bad time" and I tried not to get all sad and weepy. An hour later I was doing zone maintenance (taking old books off the shelf to make room for new ones) in the humor section. I left the area for a moment and when I returned he was in the aisle struggling to find a space for some new humor books.

Me: Oh I can take those books. I'm doing zone maintenance in this area. I'm trying to make space for some new books now. I'm sorry the area looks like a mess

He did not turn around when I addressed him but instead kept his back towards me and said "what did you say" in a nonchalant tone.

So i repeated myself again( which i absolutely hate doing) . This time he shrugged his shoulder and ignored me. He didn't say anything. He ignored me like i was a figure just taking up space and his time. I didn't know whether to wait while he tried to squeeze the books on the shelf or leave and return when he was gone. So i waited for a few seconds and said "I'll come back when you're done i guess."

He picked the right costume. For someone as smart as he is, he does not have a brain. And could seriously use one in regards to our interaction. I have never felt more disgusted as I do when I'm around him. The weird energy he gives off towards me makes me feel like a ugly human being. I feel small and unwanted. There is nothing cordial about his interactions with me. It is almost violent in it's disregard.

I am sensitive I know, but I feel rejected even before I could make an attempt to befriend him. He has guard up about me, and at this point I don't care to make an effort to try to understand him or his ugliness.

He got to leave early that night because the manager I hate said he had the best outfit. To add insult to my already wounded ego, he started talking about his girlfriend up at the cash register where I happened to be working at the time. He was not discussing her with me of course, but with the manager who was up there to. It was weird sort of "hey so anyway my GIRLFRIEND..." kind of conversations. I just sort of cried silently inside to myself not because of any feelings I have for him, but because if he is trying to make me dislike him it is working. Not only do i dislike him, but i feel like a horrible person around him though he makes everyone else so happy.

That bastard.

I wrote a poem about him soon after i got back from work (at midnight). I don't know what it means but i think it sums up my feelings about him pretty well. My first adult crush comes to a crash and burn faster than I would have thought.

Anyway.

No word from 2nd editor yet. I will email him after the election to get some feedback on the position. I think we are all in a weird antsy place and tomorrow will calm or ignite our fears. For this reason I do not expect any word on the internship until Wednesday, but I will contact him first thing in the morning. Should I not get this one I will just have to look for something else. By January I will not be working at the bookstore, so i have to find something before then.

I have been reading a lot lately, and am now on a collection of essays by Joan Didion. I've decided that when i grow up I want to be her. She is an amazing writer and her talent makes me jealous. This writing thing does not come easy to me. I need help and a lot of work to become something more than a bookshelf writer ( a phrase my mom coined in regards to writers who write material for themselves. "you don't want a bookshelf of just your stuff" she said "everyone should see it"). I am seriously pursuing grad school now, and I have to start studying for the GRE. I have been toying with several ideas lately and even applying to my Alma Mater has run through my thoughts. The school is cheap, most of the people who saw potential in me are still there, and I would get into a program that could help me develop as a writer. What's two more years to a second chance at something.

Time to read before i have to go to work.