I was a person once. Right?

What a way to end 2008. I am literally sitting in my bed, wearing my work clothes (because I just got home at 11:18) after my disastrous date with 'Porter". If you can even call it that.

So today was the day i was dreading. I haven't seen Porter in a couple of days but I knew he still wanted to go to the movies. Movies are fine. I like films. I like seeing films with friends. But I know that he likes me more than a friend and I know that I don't like him more than mere work buddies.

We closed at 6pm and luckily Angie was there to close with me. I concocted an idea last night to invite her to the movies so I would have a buffer if things got weird. I do not call this using a friend but simply exercising friend rights. The right to protect me from getting groped in the back of a movie theater. The right to make up some excuse as to why she needs to hang out with me after the movie. The right to create a diversion as I flee for safety. When i approached Angie with the idea she replied with a "hell yeah I'm in".

She will be my friend for life.

I didn't tell "Porter" about this right away. The adult thing to do would have been to text him and say "hey my friend is coming along too". Instead I was too excited that part of my plan worked to even make the phone call to him. Around 4pm, I saw him in the aisle and my heart lurched in a way that was not of longing and love. It was of fear and anxiety, something that i have not felt in a very long time. He smiled down at me, and told me he made reservations for a restaurant for the two of us.

WHAT THE FUCK.

At this moment platonic friendship was thrown out the window. What platonic friend makes reservations at a restaurant, what platonic friend wants to spend all night hanging out on a day known for making out when midnight comes. What kind of platonic friend is that.

I still did not tell him that I had invited Angie. I told him i didn't eat seafood (b/c he made a reservation at a seafood place) and that he sure had a lot planned. He smiled and then quickly made his way to all of the restaurants around town to book reservations. One of my other co-workers heard him talking about the plans he had made for us and made a face. When he left she grabbed me by the hand, dragged me into the kids section and asked me to spill the beans. About everything. Did I like 'Porter'? Why was he making plans? Are you out of your mind, he cleans the bathroom. That sort of thing.

I confessed to her that i didn't know it was a date. I thought it was a casual get together. She is only 17 but she made another face like "come on, we aren't in the 2nd grade anymore he totally has the hots for you". At this point my stomach was cramping up, it happens when I get nervous. She made me (because she is a forceful 17 year old) text him and let him know that Angie was coming with us because that would "give him the impression that this is is not a date and that you have no interest in him in that way". She's pretty smart for a 17 year old.

So i text message him quickly and tell him that Angie wanted to come along. He said it was okay but I knew that after the movie was over I would be left alone with him.

I will skip the middle of the date. In all honesty the three of us went to the movies. I sat in the middle he wanted to share a soda but I declined. He whispered in my ear from time to time. I talked to Angie and then the movie ended.

During the movie however my mom called and I had to take it. If i didn't pick up the phone she would have gone crazy. I was on the phone for less than 5 minutes but it went something like this "MOMTHISISAMOTHERFUCKINGDATEWHATDOIDO?" "Lie tell him you have to babysit last minute." "what?" "you can not leave the scene with him. Do you understand. Do not leave the SCENE! Make up an excuse and do it now! I love you"

Click.

So i run back into the theater, an hour or two later the movie is over and Angie has to go to the bathroom. I forgot to tell my aunt that I was going out after work so she called a lot during the movie. Turns out she was just concerned because i hadn't called and wanted to make sure I was okay. I told 'Porter' I had to make a call, I went in the corner and had what would be the strangest conversation with my aunt because i had to make an excuse and I knew he was listening.

Me: hey what's up
Aunt: Nothing I just wanted to make sure you were okay
Me: I'm at the movies
Aunt: I know your mom told me. Date huh
Me: Real Funny
Aunt: We'll Chris left so it'll just be you, me and the baby tonight.
Me: You need me to come home.
Aunt: What? No I said-
Me: No I understand, what time are you leaving.
Aunt: I don't know what you are talking about
Me: Fine, I'll be home in 15 minutes.

Click.

So after that worked out I put on my sad face and told him that I had to leave. He looked upset. Again. But I could not go to the second location with him. There was no way. I want to have a casual dating life but what guys that i want to casually date. I don't want to pull someone along who likes me and yet I have no interest. In the end I would feel worse hanging around with him until Midnight knowing that he expected some kiss when he's not the guy I want to spend time with.

I don't know if the excuse worked. But me and Angie left one way while he went the other. When we rounded the corner she (who must win an award for being the best 3rd wheel this side of the hudson) said

"I'm hungry, you up for Chinese". To which I answered. "yes. yes I am".

We had a pretty good time too. The food was alright but we talked for an hour. I like the talking part. I have a lot to say when I'm not listening of course. I have a lot to say.

I feel like a turd. I mean I wasn't groped which is a good thing but I may have burned another bridge. I am not this person. Or I do not like my direction. I feel like me, I look like me, but sometimes I am not sure. Sometimes I am teetering between being something new and exciting or retreating to being the same and introverted. I like both of them, I don't want to sacrifice one for the other but I have to create a fine balance. I have to find my way and establish my relationship and create this life for myself that i am proud of living. And I want to invite people in that life that I am proud of having.

And sometimes I know exactly what i want to do and exactly how I want to get there and other times I am just floating aimlessly without direction trying to grab on to anything that offers stability.

I don't know. This event capped a nice end to 2008. I can only hope that 2009 brings change. A change that i can find myself in. A change that gives me a sense of purpose. Change.

The Complicated Life.

Christmas was okay. Where I expected it to be lonely and sad it wasn't. Where I expected to be fun and exciting it wasn't. But there was a fine balance between expectations and reality that didn't make Christmas a total bust.



My aunt celebrates Christmas very differently then I do. I don't need a shitload of present, I don't need a perfectly trimmed tree. I just need the excitement of the day. That 'oh so' magic of Christmas miracles, Santa Claus and spending invaluable time with your family. At my house, my mom and I buy each other presents and then spend the rest of the day watching corny Christmas movies and eating dinner. It was a little different here, despite having a three year old in the house there wasn't that same excitement that I was use to.



Michelle seemed confused about the day, Christopher was grouchy and in a funk, and my aunt had to work. I was excited to wake Michelle up and tell her that Santa came and dropped off some presents....but she was unimpressed. She opened some presents, seemed a little excited and then preceded to cry when I opened the big present my mom sent me (can we say ROCK BAND!!!!!).



"Where's my big present"

"I don't know. But my mom sent me this"



She made a face, grabbed her blanket and stomped into another room. Merry Christmas to you too. The night before my older cousin remarked that I "was really into this holiday stuff" this was soon followed by "we don't really do crap like this". My heart kind of sank but I promised my mom that I would not sulk on Christmas. And as a present to her...I didn't. I spent the majority of the day in 'my' room playing rock band, talking to my mom, texting people, eating and reading. It was a different sort of Christmas but I did the best that I could in the situation.



The next day I had to work from 8-4. I don't know how I dragged myself out of bed, but I made it and dreaded running into 'Porter' all day . As I mentioned I totally cancelled on him on Christmas Eve. The reason for the cancellation was both personal and physical. I didn't really want to go, and I really couldn't leave my cousin on his birthday. In one my first adult acts I actually called him up and cancelled instead of letting my phone ring until he got the point.



It was around 11am when I called him. He answered the phone after a couple of rings and I actually wasn't sure it was him. at first He sounded different on the phone, I liked the tone of his voice (kind of deep and polite as if I had just woken up)and I kept repeating his name to make sure it was him. I explained the situation and he said it was okay. He sounded disappointed but I promised that we would see a movie another time...when no ones birthday intercepted.



Of course, the next day at work 'Porter' showed up a little early. Just to hang around I guess. While I was at customer service he came up to me and handed me this rock. Or what I at the time thought was a rock. It was the size of a golf ball and a cool shade of purple.



"it's an amethyst" he said, as I twirled it in my hand, "do you like it?"

I did like it. In some weird way. The color was not vibrant but when I twirled it in my hand the different shade of purples sort of sparkled. The shape of the amethyst made it smooth and I kept tossing it between my hands as if it were on of those meditative stress balls. Before I could hand it back to him he walked away. I shrugged my shoulders and turned to Sam (a hot seasonal worker) and showed him the amethyst. He too said it was pretty cool and then handed it back to me.



When 'Porter' came around again I made an attempt to give it back to him but he told me it was mine, that he wanted me to have it.



SHIT. SHIT. SHIT.



Maybe all platonic friends give each other gifts for no reason. Right? If only I were that naive. I don't understand why he likes me. All of our conversation are surface level, I am nice to everyone, and I have horrible eye contact. Horrible. I am afraid that he likes me simply because I look cute and gullible. That there is an innocence about me that oozes inexperience and precociousness. I hear that I am cute often by weird older men who like to touch my shoulder. It's nothing new. And that's why when someone pulls out the "you are very cute" card I automatically believe that they will never take me seriously. That they like me because they want to be my knight in shinning armor. When in all honesty I don't particularly want that.

I mean eventually...yeah, in that supportive- I can rely on him, he is really patient with me-sort of way but not in that macho sense. I want someone who knows I can fight my battles but will help me conquer some on the way. Yeah. That's what i want.

Needless to say, I think he is like with the idea of me rather than the reality of me (that sounds familiar). I am simple but so much more complicated than my wide eyes give off. We are suppose to see a movie after work on Wednesday and I don't think I can take any proclamations of love from him. I realize that what i want from a guy is unrelenting patience. So when I come up with a crazy idea (like moving to Maine based on a GQ spread) he'll let me ramble on about it until something else comes my way. I need him to be the anchor not the ship.

You know, having anxiety was a lot easier. I didn't have to worry friends, boys and life. I got to crawl into myself and remain safe from all the expectations of people. Though i have no interest in him in a 'i want to kiss your mouth' sort of way, i still don't want to disappoint him. Let me straighten out this statement. This does not mean I would put myself in a situation where he (or anyone) could take advantage of me because I was filled with too much guilt in saying no. That is NOT the case. But for some reason I know that the person he has imagined me to be isn't the person I am, and it is going to be crappy when he figures that out. I will feel guilty regardless.

I want to see if I can get someone else to go with us. Then it wouldn't fee like a date and I wouldn't have to keep a watch out for my nape. What a lovely nape it is turning out to be.

I have to get out of this town, before it completely takes over.

Thank God I Forgot Your Birthday.

So today i was suppose to go on my "is it or isn't it" date with the janitor/nape toucher. I didn't really want to go. After weighing the pros and cons of this 'date', something about it just didn't feel right. I am known for my exaggeration. It is a characteristic of mine that I like (for story telling) and don't like (for life telling), but I have learned to live with both. I could be exaggerating his interest in me. Maybe he just wants to be friends, maybe he touches all his friends on the nape, maybe maybe maybe. But i know in all of my craziness that he likes me. I just have a feeling.

He's nice. He's tall. He's okay, I guess. But he's also 27-ish, working as a porter at a book store. He likes guns and science fiction, touches napes and said he has a fondness for 'small things'. Unlike my instant attraction towards my much older and totally inappropriate crush, there is no draw to this guy. I talk to him at work, I go home and pretty much spend my time thinking about hot older teacher. I am drawn to the same type of guys and for some reason unless you have some of those characteristics...I don't know.

I went to lunch last week with the new girl at work. Her name is Angie and she is from Kentucky. For some reason I automatically liked her. I think we connected instantly because we are both from small towns. She is 27 and recently was laid off from her job because of the recession. I was the one who trained her on her first day, and we ended walking home together that night (because she lives close to my aunts old apartment) and we had a pretty good conversation that ended in a hug.

So on the night of that huge snow storm the bookstore closed four hours early. 'Porter' asked me to go to the movies after work with him but i declined because Angie and I wanted to grab something to eat. The only place open was this diner down the street and we spent an hour there doing what i think people do. We gossiped, talked, complained, and ate gross food. We got on the conversation of attraction and she said she learned in psych class that people do form archetypes of attraction. This would explain why people tend to fall in like with people with similar traits. All the guys I have liked share something similar in both physical apparences and manner. I end up likely a guy immediately based off of his vibe and features. Hence why i fell in 'like' with Much Older Guy the moment he shortened my name and taught me the rules of the bookstore. I just liked him right off the back. And even though I know nothing can ever come from this crush he continues to supply material for my writing.

I like guys who inspire me. Who make me dream, who let me float and drift away while maintaining some hold on me. And 'Porter', despite all of his nice qualities, doesn't make my stomach do flips. I do not dream of him in any sense, I have not imagined some ill-fated future, or tryst that will go horribly wrong. I just see him, and am uninspired by the prospects. Nevertheless, I was going to go to the movies with him...because it would be my first real date. I guess.

I have not been in the best of moods lately. I am grouchy and sad combined with general frustration and angst. But I made a promise to my mom that I would try to enjoy Christmas. That i would make an attempt to have fun, even if it killed me. I woke up today in a better mood. I walked to Target and grabbed the supplies needed to make Santa's Christmas cookies and then surprised my baby cousin with plans to make cupcakes and cookies today before my movie date. I noticed, during my speech to Michelle about saying some cookies and cupcakes for sanata, that my older cousin was noticeably down and out.

I saw him going through some of the gifts in the closest and when I asked him what he was doing he said "trying to figure out which gift to open. Today is my Birthday."

WHAT!?!?!??!?!

In my general grouchiness followed by the big move, decision making, and being annoyed with life, boys, and everything else, it totally slipped my mind that it is Christopher's birthday. I just totally forgot. I must have made a face when he said it was his birthday because all of a sudden he looked like Molly Ringwald from Sixteen Candles, 'you forgot didn't you'.

I laughed the comment off and said something like "no.... of.... course..... not!" as I tried to figure out how i was going to make this up to him. I gave him the two presents I bought him for Christmas and let him open then. I then made cupcakes, made him some pizza and tried to remind him that I did not forget his birthday...though i did. Luckily this gave me a valid excuse to cancel all of my plans for the day (including the semi date with 'Porter'). I could not leave my cousin on his 18th birthday to lounge around knowing that everyone forgot his day. I mean we didn't do much, we talked, ate, and then respectively read our books, but i was here that's good enough and as soon as my aunt comes home we will put up the tree, make cookies and possibly watch A Christmas Story.

I don't know how long I can keep coming up with these excuses. After a while he is going to catch on that I have no interest in him, but I don't want to hurt his feelings. The adult thing to do would be to create the friendship boundary now so he doesn't misinterpret my kindness. But at the same time I don't want to think I am rejecting him when really i have established him as a friend of sort.

Too much thinking for one day.

In other news I have my Christmas all planned out. I will open the last of my presents, enjoy the look on my little cousins face as she opens her presents. I will hang with my aunt and older cousin and then retreat to 'my' room and read the trashy book I bought for the occasion while munching on the cheesecake I have been saving. It's going to be a different Christmas for sure but I am going to make the best of it. I am not this person frolicking around, I am not this person who is unhappy and concerned. And for day i just want to relax from all of that. Just for one day.

Merry Christmas, Happy Holiday and yadda yadda.

Momma I'm Coming Home

Sorry. I didn't leave you high and dry but I unexpectedly spent the last 3 days moving my aunt, her crying baby and her lazy son into their new apartment.

I don't know if I have talked about this, but my aunt began an apartment search about 2 months ago. After seeing some shittastic places thanks to a all to eager realtor (thanks Bob) she settled on a place in the same town not too far from my job and general activity.

Unfortunately I am beginning to think that I live in a house with fools. My aunt is not your ideal tenant. According to Ms. Drake (the 70 year old landlord who has no family or friends) my aunt never paid the rent on time or in full.

My aunt suffers from grandiose ideas of a life of luxury despite lacking the funds to do so. Because of this she would rather spend money on a $300 table than to put some damn food in the house.

She found out she got this apartment about 2 weeks ago, and Ms.Drake was none to thrilled. She pretty much demanded that my 'no paying rent on time aunt' move out of the apartment as soon as she could. For weeks she has told everyone a different story about when she was planning to move. From Dec 1st(the date she told Ms. Drake) to Jan 1st (the date she told me). Regardless when Dec 15th rolled around and my aunt was still lounging in the old apartment as if we had a bunch of time to move, Ms. Drake became frustrated on Friday demanded that my aunt move out by the weekend or else.

I did not know of this. I heard about it when my aunt and cousin were talking in private, and I was secretly listening. Anyway, I woke up on Saturday with the blind notion that I would sleep in late, move some shit to the new place and possibly take my other cousin to her dance recital. But of course, I woke up to a freak snow storm that made the roads icy and the temperature near freezing.

My aunt and older cousin do not have a license or money so I had to rent a U-Haul truck, navigate the icy roads and haul a shit load of furniture across town...all day. I have been recovering from this move the last 3 days, and i think in some way my spirits have dropped and I kind of, want to, need to, have made plans....to go home.

I am wasting all my money on supporting this house. There is never food in the fridge, there is never basic necessities to live off, and I realize I am buying all this shit only to see it disappear in three days. I buy food, the food is eaten up by everyone except me and then there is no 'thank you" to accompany this. There is no thank you for anything i do. I am stressed out, which is causing me to lose a lot of weight and I think my hair is falling out.

If my home life was stable I could take the whole looking for a job and internship thing in stride, but i go out into the real world and it is stressful there and then I come back here and it is stressful at 'home'. Plus I don't have any money, i am running out of money because so much of it is going into things that should already be in this house. I know that I am not paying rent here, but at the same time I am far exceeding a helping hand to this household, and I am being milked dry.

I don't want to leave NYC, but at this point for my money, my sanity, and weight...I have to.

Is it? Or isn't It?

After several attempts to hang out with me outside of work I agreed to see a movie with the weird janitor dude. Maybe it's because I am really lonely? Maybe it's because I've been so disappointed with the job search? Maybe i am just being a 22 year old girl who likes and wants some kind of affection? But i agreed to see a movie with him on Christmas Eve.

This is not a date right? I have no interest in this dude outside of being friends. But he has asked me so many times, that I am running out of excuses. So I am seeing a movie with a guy. A guy that may or may like me more than a friend. A guy

Shit. What have I gotten myself into. Can I back out now with some stupid excuse? Shit. I am freaking out.

New York does not have Moves.

I want to tell you all about my interview yesterday. But I am realize that the time it will take me to type this post (20-30 minutes) will take longer than the actual interview itself (which lasted 5 minutes). I fucking hate this city.

So, last Thursday I received an email from the editor of New York Moves magazine. I was hella excited after checking out the website and seriously began doing my research on magazine publishing. I bought some books, checked out the website a million times, prepared for the questions I knew where going to come my way, and felt secure in my strategies, drive, and ambition to get this internship.

After spending more money on a new pair of dress pants, I paid $13 for a round trip ticked to Grand Central Station, an extra four dollars for a metro card until I made it to the area know as Tribeca an hour early for my afternoon interview. I found the office pretty easily, so I looked around the neighborhood for a few minutes before deciding to wait in the lobby until my interview with the editor.

Unfortunately there wasn't really a lobby for me to lounge in. It was a huge flat sectioned off by partitioned walls. I was admittedly greeted by her assistant who handed me a copy of there magazine and told me to take a seat. I quickly changed out of my flats, college sweatshirt and jacket into my proper interview wear (that i kept on underneath all my other clothes. It was cold outside).

I didn't even get the chance to look through the magazine as I listened to the commotion over one of the walls

"did you get Selma Blaires publicist on the phone!", Someone asked

A small conversation began about getting the publicist on the phone as fast as they could and then all of a sudden a door swung open and a not so pleasant face greeted me. There was nothing pleasant about the next five minutes. I was carted off in a discreet corner where the editor (whose face I had seen in several of there promotional videos) was not as friendly as I thought she would be.

She shot me questions that she didn't give me much time to answer (because she was kind of answering them for me) "How's it going?Great. So did you get a chance to look through the magazine. Alright so where is your resume. Did you bring any writing samples. We are looking for experience candidates. Can you tell me something about yourself".

What a bitch.

I told her what I have been telling everyone at these interviews (but i included some fresh and relevant material for the job in particular). She asked if I had anything published and I of course told her the truth. Nothing published has come from these hands.

Bitch went crazy at this point. She sat back in her chair (not a good sign), made a face of disinterest (not a good sign) and then gave me a speech that went something like this:

We are looking for candidates who have certain experiences for our magazine. We need someone who we don't have to train and supervise because of inexperience. It's a two way streak, we offer candidates the opportunity to intern here but they have to contribute something also. We want to help someone further their career, and depending on how the next 25 interviews go I will make a decision to bring 4 back to get acquainted with the office. From there i will choose only two to come back.

She said this as if I wasted her time. As if she would never recover from the last 5 minutes she spent talking to me. I curved my mouth into an 'O' formation and said "I see"before parting ways. She led me out into the lobby where her next victim awaited her (i saw this girl a few minutes later with the same look of shock and disgust on her face).

That interview could have been done on the phone, instead of dragging 25 people to an office for a 5 minutes meeting. I am more mad about the amount of shit I did to have this interview (switch hours at work, money spent of travel and apparel, general excitement) then on how rude she was.

I have more incentive to 'make it', so I can shove it in all of these people's faces. I'm sorry that's

the anger and frustration talking.

After the interview I had to go to work until closing. Unfortunately some big hot shot person is coming in today, so we spent the whole night cleaning the store and I didn't get home until midnight. The Old Guy (teacher/ex-crush) was there but I was too frustrated to care. Some days he is nice, some days (like last night) he is cold and distant and I have learned to not take it to heart. Last week he got engaged (yeah for crushes) and his uber nice girlfriend came to the store to show of the ring. The Old Guy looked uncomfortable.

I've been writing a lot of poetry lately, because stories are too long and difficult. The Old Guy is giving me a lot of material and I think in some way I am using him as my muse. My much older, totally inappropriate muse but whatever.

The holidays is coming up, and my mom has asked me to put a hold on obsessing over this internship thing. She wants me to just take some time to write, and enjoy the presents she sent me for Christmas. She has a point, I will start studying for the GRE, write some stories and just relax for a while. But once January comes I begin again. I just need someone to take a chance on me.

You Found Me

I have been obsessing over this song by the Fray all day that I (along with the rest of the world) discovered through the promos for Lost Season 5(?). I've never seen this show. I hear it's about a bunch of people on an island, one of whom happens to be Matthew Fox. But other then that I am pretty clueless to the phenom, blame it on my obsession with a million and one other things.

Regardless, this song kicks ass. Major ass and I can't stop listening to it, even at 11:24p.m. I can't go to sleep. I have an interview this Wednesday and i am nervous. I am that kind of nervous that keeps you up at night tossing and turning. That kind of nervous that makes you listen to a song 20 times until you have the lyrics down to a science.

The publisher wants a portfolio of my work. My non existent portfolio that consist of a reader response for some stupid YA book, and a movie review that i typed up in a day. A portfolio that will not give anyone a sense of my writing. A portfolio that I am struggling to put together before Wednesday.

A kid at work is also trying to get into publishing. He has been trying for a year now. Because the interview conflicted with my work schedule I had to find someone to swap shifts with me. The weird Norman Bates guy was the only one I could ask, and when i explained my situation he was happy to accommodate. An hour later, he asked me all about the internship and then told me that he too had an interest in publishing. That he was a communications major in college (which is weird because he is the last person anyone wants to communicate with) but that he was rejected so many times he just sort of gave up. Seriously, he said he just 'gave up'.

This frightens me, because I know the only person who stands in my way of accomplishing anything is me. I am the only person responsible for not pushing my potential to it's fullest. And as I research the magazine, prepare answers to questions in my head, and struggle to come up with something more to put in my portfolio, the realization is crushing.

Failure has nothing to do with rejection from others, but from your own rejection. From your inability to keep fighting for something that you want, right? I don't want to be creepy Norman Bates guy. I don't want to just give up and be content with plan Z. I have to find some way to push past my own insecurites and nerves.

I am writing a small sample about the post grad experience. I know there will be an honesty in the piece that is speaking from a sincere contemplation on the subject matter and not eager desperation. I have thought of tweaking some entries from my journal because it's the best sample of my writing style for the porfolio but I don't know. I need to get some sleep and maybe in the morning I will figure out where this piece is going, until then...I have a restless night ahead of me.

What to Do? What to Do?

I'm feeling a little lost, confused, overwhelmed, sad and anxious. I can't even begin to explain how horrible post grad life is. I know that I had high expectations going into this move to NYC but as the four month mark stamps it's marker on my life, I can't help but feel like a failure. I can't even get a damn internship...with anyone.

I contemplate going home all the time, until I realize that there is nothing there except a potential job at Walgreens or Kmart. It's not that I am even stressed out, i am just depleted of energy. I am tired of trying to be 'someone', I'm tired of trying to convince people that I am right for the position especially when I am not 100% convinced of it either. I'm lucky enough to even snag an interview which says that something in my resume is catchy. But I can't 'seal the deal' in a sense. And it is beginning to take it's toll.

Yesterday, I started crying for no reason at all. I was watching the last ten minutes of Atonement where the adult Briony is talking about her new book. This is of course the scene where she confesses that she created a life for her sister and her sisters lover in her book that they were unable to have in their real life, due to events from their past. Naturally this scene is pretty sad, she is atoning for her mistakes and does so through creating a happy ending for two people who never got that chance to experience it. I have seen this movie a dozen times, I knew the ending even before I watched it and yet there I was crying for no reason at all. It had nothing to do with the movie, I emotionally was just using it as an excuse to vent my own frustrations. At the end of my weird crying spell I yelled "Fuck you Briony" before turning the channel. My anger at her made me laugh some time later.

I am running out of plans. I intended to land an editorial assistant job. That did not work so I intended to get an internship. That is not working, so what else I am suppose to do? I contacted some lady about volunteering abroad but apparently there is a fee of $3000. Who would have thought that volunteering would cost so much. Once again, because I am not in school (and because of the recession) I can't even get a loan to go. I have to start repaying my current loans in February so there is no way that i can just give $3000 of my own money for two weeks in Chile. It's impossible.

The only other plan that has run through my head is trying to get some newspaper experience. I have no formal training in journalism, but for years I've said I wanted to be Lisa Ling because of her wicked awesome job with National Geographic (even an internship at National Geographic requires you to be in college). Unlike publishing, i may actually get the chance to write something rather than reading someones crappy novel. I would have to work on my grammar and syntax, but there are a lot of small newspaper places in my town that i may have to look into.

Who knows. I can't give up now, right? But even my ability to come up with plans from A to Z are waning. I am tired of thinking about the future. I am tired of working at the bookstore. I am tired of weird guys who touch napes inappropriately. I am tired of stagnation and complacency because i am guilty of both.

And So it Goes

Dear Beckett,

Thanks so much for coming in to meet with Tricia. She wanted to let you know that she has decided to go with another candidate. Thank you again for your interest in Sanford Greenburger, and best of luck with your future endeavors.

Best,

Lauren

Like Cinderella, I Too Leave Glass Slippers at Balls.

Another interview down, another expectation ready to become a bust.



Have no fear I have not become a cynical, pessimistic person. But I have become a more realistic one. I picked the worst year to graduate from college. With a recession and print journalism folding under the weight of our Internet driven age trying to enter the publishing world is hard. Very hard.



I am learning that rejection is not some personal attack on my character but simply that the people hiring interns and entry level candidates want to make sure they have the absolute right person for the job. And maybe that person is not me. That realization is called becoming a mature adult.







I went into this interview without the high level of expectation that I have previously had. I don't know if this was to soften the blow of another potential rejection, or if my commitment to attending grad school in the fall has decreased my fighting drive to enter the publishing world. For now anyway.




I did buy a cute sweater to wear to the interview. It cost me a hefty 42 bucks, but for once i felt stylish and put together. I always debate whether wearing jeans to an interview is appropriate or not but because I have only been going on interviews for internships I don't see a problem with injecting my own style into business wear. So I paired my cute grey sweater cloak thingy with dark jeans and kitten heels. I felt like a girl.





I scheduled the interview for 11am but because I do not know my way around the city and I wanted to catch an early train just in case I got lost on the way. In the last 3 months I have mastered the subway line and easily caught the 4 rail to Union Square, a place where all the cool artsy kids hang out. While I was on the train to grand central station I saw this hot guy wearing a tweed jacket. I have a thing for tweed but more importantly I have a thing for dudes who wear tweed. He was about my age with red hair and soft features and he looked composed in the crowded and noisy rush of people.

Though we got to the track for the 4 train at different times, when the train rolled up we somehow managed to get on another train together where we were sandwiched together for a quick 5 minutes. If you are not able to get a seat on the subway you have to stand, along with a shitload of other people, in the aisle. At peak hours this could mean standing in between someones armpit and breast depending on how and where you are standing at any given moment. I, being unable to secure a spot in reaching distance of a bar to steady myself, had to stand in the middle of the train as the car rocked back and forth. The man of my dreams in tweed was standing right behind me, facing the doors, which did not give us anytime to talk and stare longingly at one another. Where it not for the girl in the red peacoat, who unfortunately got pushed and jabbed by my unsteady self, I would have been tossed around all over the place.

Because the train was headed to Union Square there were a bunch of college kids in the car and when we finally reached 14th street, we emptied out in no particular order or manner. Union Square was pretty nice, ironically The New School (the grad school I was rejected from) is right around the corner, and for a moment I saw how my life would have turned out if I would have been accepted there. Like most places in New York, you can get overwhelmed by the buildings, people, and general activity. For some reason I am not too distracted by the sights as I am the smells of New York. There is food everywhere, and I wanted to continue breathing in the scent of coffee and burritos.

When I made it to the office I did not make the mistake of pissing off the building guard this time, and made my way to the literary agents office without harm. Of course I was an hour early,and the receptionist made a point of telling me this. She 'informed' me that just because I was early didn't mean I would get to have my interview early. I then had to 'inform' her that I was early for everything and that i didn't mind waiting. I had intended to come in early so I could freshen up in the bathroom (check my chair, face, and zipper) and change my shoes. I am petite and often times am mistaken for a teenager so I always wear heels on my interviews. But I did not want to wear heels on the train, so I put them in my big bag intending to change into them later on. Unfortunately I did not expect to encounter a rude receptionist and I was too frightened to ask her where the bathroom was.

Instead I changed my shoes in the waiting area, and doodled in my notebook until the agent greeted me. She actually interviewed me earlier then planed (take that receptionist lady) and per usual the interview went okay. I was asked the same old questions and could not help but follow them up with the same old responses. She said I was 'great' but that of course she had a hard decision to make and would get back to me soon about the position.

And so it goes.

When I reached the lobby, I started searching my bag for my grey shoes. I admittedly found one but could not for the life of me find the other one. Yes, my bag is really huge, but after dumping everything out I did not see my other shoe. I quickly realized that I must have left it in the agency, perhaps while i was changing shoes I left it under a chair. The guard did not let me slip by easily this time, and I had to explain to him that I was missing a grey shoe and that i left it on the 15th floor. When I stepped off the elevator, the receptionist was waiting for me with a humorous grin on her face.

"Did you see a grey shoe laying around anywhere", I asked.

She continued smiling and pointed to my grey shoe lying under chair, it look all lost and lonely without it's other half. I retrieved my shoe thankful that the agent was not there to see me running around the agency with one shoe on and then got in the elevator with a guy who wanted to know how I could leave my shoe in the waiting room. He was smiling (and laughing) as he asked me, and I could only explain that 'he'd have to know me to realize this was not unusual'.

All in all it was a good day. I don't have a chance in hell of getting this internship but I love traveling to the city as much as possible. I have contacted some volunteer agencies in order to learn more about volunteering outside of the country. I have decided that going to a school in another country will be both costly and impractical. Sometimes I need to throw ideas out there just to see it and analyze it. But there are a crap load ( I use this phrase a lot, I apologize) of short volunteer programs that can expose me to travel via service. I have a couple of months to spare and I would really like to go to South America or Eastern Europe. I am captivated by Africa at the moment (from books on the region, National Geographic images, to songs) but I may have to hold off on that trip for a while. You know, because there are several civil wars going on and all.

I have to write about the weird janitor guy again. He touched my nape the other day in a way that was 100% creepy and not at all cool. After the 'incident' I ran home and wrote down the beginning of a poem I think:

He addressed my nape with a familiarity reserved only for men

It sums up nicely the weird way his hand found their way to my neck. But, because I am sleepy I will have to write that story up later.

Today is the Day.

Marie's birthday is today but unlike previous years she is not happy about this one. This is her first bday without the comfort of her friends and family. She is convinced that her existence in the hills of North Carolina (because that's where all the pig farms all) is not important. If she was to leave her job, apartment and life she feels that no one would miss her. I try to comfort her as much as I can, but as I deal with my own stuff listening to her has become harder and harder. I cannot relate, I mean I can't even pretend to relate.

She has a job, she has a boy who is interested in her, she has a job, she has a car and an apartment, and she has friends (friends who are far away but friends regardless). I have none of those things. I don't even think I am close to having any of those things. The only thing we share in common is a general concern for our own loneliness which has been caused because of the things we lack in our lives.

As I mentioned before I do have an interview on Tuesday. I am going to brave the frigid weather (again) take the metro north into the city (again) before catching the subway (again) to a literary agency that may or may not accept me as an intern (again). The only person I really complain to about my struggles in the city is my mom, and I must credit her for holding up nicely under the train wreck that is me. I am anxiety filled while drowning in my own unrealistic images of my life and self. I often reduce myself to being nothing more than a bookstore girl who will forever be in the aisles shelving literature that I am too lazy to write myself.

Complacency is a word that I hate only because it regularly plagues my thoughts. What happens if I get too tired of fighting for 'something' that I just settle for anything? These thoughts are weird and stupid I know, only because I am a person who never settles. But still the thought remains.

Yesterday began a month long employee appreciation stint at my job. We are given 40% off of books in preparation for the headache called Christmas. I have never worked retail but I know that it will be madness at my job for the next 3 weeks and I do not feel prepared. I bought two Joan Didion books and a Cd for my mom and started reading the rest of "slouching towards Bethlehem" when I got 'home'.

I carried on further reading at Michelle's dance class this morning while listening to some Sir Sufjan Stevens. There is something about Stevens + some Didion that gets me thinking. I contemplate the choices I have made in the past 3 months....okay lets be honest in the last 4 years. I am impulsive, impatient, and a worry body. I have no idea what I want to do, I desperately seek guidance, and did I mention I have no idea what i want to do.

As I was sitting in the lobby listening to a bunch of 3 year olds running around, I had this interesting revelation. Maybe I have been approaching New York the wrong way. Despite reminders that I am a person who is suppose to write I forget this often in the 'real world'. Without a comment on a paper I have written or guidance from my professors on the strength and weaknesses of my writing, I am not conscious of my potential to do...anything.

I have spent the last 3 months trying to get an editorial assistant job, an internship, or even a damn desk job, that I haven' done the one thing I know I can do. Write. I mean seriously write. I haven't joined a workshop, created experiences worth writing about, or committed myself to the craft. I've only ever been good at observing things, analyzing stuff, being incredibly receptive to my environment. If I was meant to write and experience things then why I am not doing any of that.

Despite feeling like i have put in 100% into making something of myself while I have been here, maybe that is not entirely the case. I have been contently pursuing publishing (to no avail) for so long that I have put writing to the side, literally. On interviews I can't mention my pursuit of an MA in Creative Writing. I do not say that I can honestly critique work because of my own interest in writing, I often end up giving safe answers because the truth would solidify something to my potential employee and possibly myself.

I do not agree with what the editor on my first interview said. This was the interview (that was exactly more of a luncheon) on the rooftop over looking the city I held so much promise for only a few short months ago. After she was done chastising me for not capitalizing my I's in an email I sent her ("it's something I pay attention too") she none too pleased of my writing pursuits. She suggested picking one over the other because there may not be a way to do both.

I call bullshit on this one.

There has to be a way to balance security (making money so i can live comfortably) with passion (writing, observing analyzing, experiencing). And if I have to create that balance then I will just have to in order to maintain some sense of myself and preserve my sanity.

I have (once again) a million and one thoughts floating around. If this whole grad school thing works in my favor i should be enrolled sometime in August. I am no longer looking to apply to school abroad just because I could never decide if I wanted to study abroad because of the programs or the sites. Until August I have a couple of months to do what i want to do should an internship not come.

I have been thinking about volunteer related programs for recent grads. Some range from a 2 week to 3 month commitment. The program would be abroad but seeing that I've only traveled domestically (and on the east coast) going anywhere (and volunteering) would be an adventure. I need to be challenged, I need opposition, I need purpose and without those things I feel...complacent, useless, and slightly depressed.

I need a goal to fight for. In school I was determined to graduate, so even though I hated sitting at a desk all day I didn't mind being there. I knew that there was a purpose for being there, that I would earn a BA and be one of the few college graduates in my family. I need a goal, a finishing post, a sign that I am accomplishing something towards some purpose that is significant.

Why must I be such a difficult and demanding person. Geez.

So, we meet again

Okay. I admit it. I am depressed.

I hate writing it down and seeing the word Depressed before me. I haven't felt this bad in so long I almost forgot what it felt like. I forgot that depression (for me anyway) is not some evil aberration that I can spot and halt in it's track. It's sneaky, friendly even, because it seeks out my weakness and offers me the helping hand I seek. Blerg.

I am literally in a weird state of nothingness. It feels and looks like nothing I ever would have imagined. I am an actor. I carry a million and one facades to cover up my anxiety ridden, worrisome self. And people are buying it, including myself.

Beneath my happy veneer I am consumed with anxiety. It is not a stomach churning, sweat dripping or even a heart pounding sort of anxiety, but it keeps me up at night. It fills my head with unrealistic scenarios that involve 'me' some years down the road unfulfilled in all aspects of my life including being totally unhappy with my career.

With the economy ("hello Mr. recession") and the general time it takes for a grad to find a job, I know this is the worst time to be looking for a job. Especially a job in publishing which is a tight knit family of literature buffs. But because I am naturally someone who puts a lot of blame on herself I can't help but feel like a failure. I can't help but feel unwanted, unprepared, and like a disgrace to the person who once held such high dreams for herself but who cannot find a way to make them happen.

I am just in a funk. I know it will pass and I will bounce back up like one of those stupid webble wobbles to face the 'real world' again. But sometimes I just want to fold into myself. I don't want to be a strong anchor, realistic and rational. I want to hit rock bottom, be totally vulnerable, and just let my thoughts do whatever it must to work itself out.

I have another interview on Tuesday (if me and the agent can find a time for the interview that fits both our schedule). I don't really know how to prepare myself. I am going to buy a new outfit, I know that much. I need something more professional looking then what I have been showing up in (a cardigan sweater and slacks). If it wasn't 30 degrees in New York I would wear something a-la Bonnie Morrison (who is pictured above). She is like my style icon these last few months but I don't think i can pull off her class and style).

In the meantime I am working 5 days straight this week. Because of the holidays the managers asked me to extend my four day commitment to five. I desperately want (and need) more money so I agreed to have a full shift for Christmas. After the holidays my hours will dramatically decrease regardless of snagging an internship or not. Surprisingly when i came back to work on Sunday, my old crush (literally he may be more then 10 years older than me) was super nice.

This is the same guy who made an ass of himself on Halloween. He is still dismissive towards, I don't think that will ever change. If he isn't ignoring me he is pretending to ignore me and I haven't been able to decide which one is worse yet. But on Sunday he was nice....I mean actually nice. It was the first time he has said anything to me since i started working there. I don't know why I like him, put aside the whole teacher thin and I just dig him. Put aside being an asshole towards me and I still like him. I like how he interacts with everyone else, despite being a turd towards me.

I want to get a real guy. I want someone to like me (who isn't a weird janitor dude who happens to have a pension for guns and short people. He told me this). I have to stop falling in 'like' with guys who are unattainable or dismissive of me. I have to start taking myself seriously enough to attain the things that I want. Whether it be a stupid internship with a stupid literary agency or just a nice guy to hang out with along with my nice friends and nice life.

Time for bed.

Rejection Burns deep

I didn't get the internship. Motherfucker, I don't know what i am doing wrong. Here's to another rejection letter added to the increasing pile:

Dec, 1st 2008:

Hi Beckett ,

Thank you very much for your interest in our internship. I’m afraid that we have gone another direction, but I wish you the very best in your pursuit of a career in publishing, and appreciate your time in talking with me.

Best regards,
Jaimee, the Literary Group

Nov, 2nd 2008

Thank you to all who applied at Show Business Weekly. I just wanted to let you know that the internships have been filled. Good luck

-Chris Show Business Weekly

I was going to list the rest of them, but i must have deleted the rejection letters from that weird social networking site (which was literally the weirdest rejection letter ever. Something about New Years Eve and bad timing) and Scholastic Books. I can't remember if there are anymore than four. Some rejections are solely based on me being a college graduate which makes no sense. There was this cool internship with Sprig.com, based on eco-friendly content (news, fashion, writing). Unfortunately they were looking for interns who are in college instead of those who have already graduated from it.

It's complete hogwash and bullshit.

Back to the Grind

So my week home was more then I ever could have imagined. Minus the absence of my two favorite family members ( I miss my cats) I had a great time. There is something about going home that is quite deceptive. After living without basic necessities and the comforts of heat, a bed and cable television being home was like staying at the Ritz-Carlton or something.

It was sunny throughout the week, I ate a lot, I played the Nintendo Wii for hours, and I got to hang out with my family. Everything in my small little town was exactly the same yet distinctively different. It is my home yet it isn't my home anymore. The shops are still confound to restaurants and speciality stores, except now there is a dunkin' donuts a few blocks away. The people are still homely and considerate while they hold doors for women and children and talk about impending weddings and births.

The whole time I was home, I regretted having to leave on Sunday. I kept making excuses to stay. I'm not finding anything in good old New York and it's been 3 months (bordering on four) and all I have to show for my move up here is a crappy bookstore job. I don't get much writing down (evident by my lack of blog posting and general lack of story writing or even the inspiration to write). I am not miserable but sometimes I feel tired. Tired of trying to 'be' somebody. I feel tired of having to prove myself. I don't feel like I am or will be taken seriously in this field even though I haven't really emerged myself in it fully.

I have anxiety about my future. I no longer believe that I will be a bookstore girl my whole entire life but there is still a fear that lingers somewhere deep inside that I can't verbalize. Marie calls me all the time to talk about her loneliness. She is not dealing with post college life well. Though she has a career that pays a generous salary she has made no friends (besides the boy she likes). It worries her, and it is the only thing she wants to talk about these days.

Maybe because I am slightly a loner and am use to my fair share of days alone, but I don't really know how to connect to her claim. When Abagail confided in me last week about her bouts of depression and her own lonely ways I could relate to her. She talked about the sort of lonely that is about wanting general connections to people other than for entertainment and something to do on a Saturday Night. It is loneliness that causes you to question your own self worth and importance to others and to yourself. Marie seems more upset that she can't go out eating or drinking because she has no one to hang out with.

At the end of the day I am not worried about the social aspects of my life. I am doing okay at least that is what I keep telling myself. Maybe I am not aware of any loneliness because I am so consumed with getting a new job, writing, or even just finding a damn internship. It is the career aspect of my life that is consuming me. I not only want to be more than a bookstore girl but I need to be something more and I don't know how to make the changes to do so.

When I was home, safe in my big bed where everything was exactly the same and comforting, I could feel it trying to lure me back. "It" being my indecisiveness, my worries, my apprehensions and concerns. "It"being the part of me that doesn't want to take chances and would rather settle for okay that spectacular. The part of me the believes my better best just isn't good enough and that my dreams are just that. All the components of "it" lit up my old life like it was amazing. It turned the boredom of small town living into an oasis from city life. "It" made the four blank walls of my bedroom into a creative outlet where I spent my mornings actually writing. "It" made me forget all of the things about small town living that i hate, creating this big facade that I a was caught up in. That I am still today caught up in.

Where it not for the responsibilities of my job, I don't think I would have come back. "It" has made me slightly delusional. Despite the endless opportunities here, I am in a weird breaking point that has more to do with being tired than anything else. I am hoping to hear about this new internship in the next few days. Because of the holiday week, she gave phone interview in anticipation for people traveling for the holidays. The interview went well. I know I have said that about every interview but this one went how I wanted it to go. I felt like I had a good answer for all the questions she posed and I got to ask some of my own. Her biggest concern revolved around me being a college graduate. She feared that I would find my entry level job during the internship and then they would be without an intern. It is a big concern but I explained to her that I can't really get a job without having an internship anyway, or at least that has been my experience these last few months.

I am scared to think that if nothing should come up soon 'It' will lure me back home, not because I want to go but because can't I bear staying. I have a lot to process.

My application for grad school isn't due until April 30th. Thank God. I have some time to come up with a great story and submit it to the admission committee. I have several stories in my head but I want to spend my time on just one instead of trying to complete three at the same time. I did visit my old and potential grad school last Monday. I finally got a college sweater and have been wearing it all week for comfort and warmth (It snowed a little yesterday!). I miss school a lot, I miss being in class, I miss harassing hot English professors, and I miss having potential. I especially miss the last one the most.