Still Haven't Learned My Lesson.

Drinking coffee after 8pm is a bad idea...I know this from first hand experience. And yet, put me in a coffee shop after the street lights come on and I will order some ridiculous drink like coffee regular knowing the effect it has on me.

I never learn.

I think it is 2 o'clock in the morning. My stomach hurts, my mind is racing, and I am typing out a new story. It's about loneliness if you can believe it or not. Self imposed loneliness that disconnects us from each other because of our fear to get too close, rely on others, and sometimes ask for help.

I like the concept of it so far, but I say that about every story I write. I am noticing that thread in my life. Loneliness. I am not lonely here, I have friends. I am finally doing the things any 22 year old (with a good head on her shoulder) should be doing...yet the idea of loneliness always lingers in my mind.

That topic was the main article in a popular magazine some time ago. How in New York (and other major cities with a lot of people) you can literally feel lonely surrounded by faces. You would think with all the sources of activity you wouldn't get trapped up in this isolation that you cannot break free from. But from the subways, to the sidewalks there is a loneliness in this city that creeps up on you from nowhere.

Sometimes I get it. And when I do it pains me more then I would like to admit. The loneliness makes me feel like I'm spiraling out of control. Not because I am behaving any differently than I have in the past. But because I feel like life has taken hold of me and I am too scared to embrace it. I want to isolate myself in some safe nice space, where I can catch my breath and breathe. Even if that means escaping into a lonely bubble where I am the only inhabitant.

This could be the coffee talking and/or the stomach ache. This could be the disconnected, antsy, neurotic me talking. I don't know, but it still doesn't change the fact that's it's 2 in the morning and I can't sleep. I hate coffee, remind me never to drink it again.

Day Sleeper Part 2

I didn't think I would really spend all day sleeping, until literally 3pm when I realized that I hadn't done anything but that. I am tired but there is too much to do in the upcoming months to let sleepy eyes get the best of me.

So yes I started my internship at a production company last Friday. I didn't think I would get the position seeing that "1 semester as a directors assistant" was all I had on my resume. Regardless, last Tuesday 'Lenny' called and tried to offer me the internship via the phone. Of course I was screaming too loud with excitement for him to get much of anything out, but in between my yells of glee he said I could come in on Friday at 10am.

When I went in for the interview the office was dead. I mean besides 'Lenny' and I there were a couple of people but not to many to get a feel of the place. 'Lenny' was dressed like a model and there I was with my 20 dollar shoes and 18 dollar pants. Kind of intimidating. I was nervous of course come Friday because 1) this is my first real internship 2) i didn't have a clue what I would be doing there and 3) I had no idea what i would wear outside of my gap pants and cardigans.

After losing the few items I bought from H&M, I had no choice but to pull something together and quick. And by something, I literally wore some skinny jeans, a blouse and my heels. I didn't look ultra professional but I did pull off business casual? I think. Anyway, I live almost 60 minutes outside of my job. That seems long but really it's a short trip. If it weren't for the long metro north ride into grand central station I would be able to get there a lot quicker. Just to make sure i arrived on time I left my aunts house at around 8 to catch the 8:16 train. This train ride was much different then the ones I am use to. The more professional business people ride the 8:16 train and for 30 minutes I was on the stuffiest ride into the city that I have ever been on. The guy next to me was wearing a really expensive suit but he slept the whole way and I couldn't help but stare at his put together attire. I looked completely out of place with my big green bag, puma shoes and jacket.

By the time i arrived in Soho, I was a half an hour early. If you are ever in New York you must try a butter-roll. I wish there was a science to it, but literally it is just a roll with a slab of butter on it. Combine that with a coffee regular and there you have the cheapest most delicious breakfast in the whole entire world. Ignore the fact that it will clog your arteries and give you indigestion...it's tasty. After my small breakfast I went upstairs and waited for 'Lenny' in the lobby. I sort of imagined that once i arrived what I thought I saw last Tuesday (an amazing office) would turn out to be a small space with white walls. Like maybe I was being interviewed in that pseudo space to give me a good impression but once I got the internship that walls would fall apart to reveal a small hole in the wall where I would spend 3-6 months in.

But it was the same, except now there were a bunch of people running around and drinking coffee. I wasn't really introduced to anyone and no one really made an attempt to introduce themselves. When 'Lenny' greeted me, he ushered me into his office and immediately put me to work. The company is working on two documentaries and to fill me in I had to read notebooks worth of research. I spent nearly 3 hours thumbing through books and and interesting essays. By the time 1 o'clock rolled around 'Lenny' came up to me and asked if I wanted to take a break.

I don't know much about the area, so I went to a vendor across the street to grab lunch. I don't eat pork but I scarfed down a hot dog like I hadn't eaten in days. After lunch I went back to the office and was assigned the task of transcribing video. It's sort of like writing a script. I had to watch hours worth of clips and transcribe word for word what each person said. It's not as easy as it sounds. I did that for what seemed like forever and I didn't get to leave until 6pm.

Of course, I didn't go straight home after my really busy day. I promised Abagail that I would hang out with her and I didn't want to cancel plans. Despite being very tired I spent two hours with her, eating dinner and talking about 'Lenny'. I don't like walking around the city with my big green bag because it isn't convenient especially when it has my phone, wallet, and camera in it. I told Abagail about this and she said she was heading to Canada in a couple of weeks and would buy me a book bag there. I forgot how great it felt to have friends. So in a couple of weeks I will have a cool Canadian book bag which she calls a 'you got an internship' gift.

I like the internship, I suppose, or at least I will like it. I'm worried about fitting in and making office buddies. It's always difficult being the 'new girl' and I don't know how long it will take for people to warm up to me. For a while I will feel concentrate a lot on the work aspect. I want to prove myself a tad bit before I get comfortable. I have to busy myself in some way and if that means being the best transcriber they've seen in a while...then so be it. There are some interns running around but they haven't stopped to say hi yet and I am hesitant to do so myself. Regardless I am happy to have an internship, even if it isn't in publishing.

Today I emailed my professors about my desire to get my MFA. It took me forever to write 'hey, i need to learn again....please recommend me so I can learn something!" but i think I did so in a way that wasn't totally embarrassing. Marie sent me her GRE book which is full of practice tests and math crap. I guess it's the best way to approach the GRE seeing how bad I bombed it last year.

I am excited to begin this process of heading back to school. I feel like I am not learning what i want to learn in the real world. I had an interesting conversation with Angie's boyfriend. Let me explain. Angie is also a writer (even though she doesn't want to make a career out of it) she met this guy on some website and they have been 'seeing' each other for a while. He lives in Finland though so it's not so much seeing as it is writing back and forth. They have met in real life a couple of times and she says she really loves him. He is the guy she wants to spend the rest of her life with despite the distance.

The power of technology allows them to talk via a live video feed. I mean when I was at her house she had her computer set up and all of a sudden his face popped on screen and it was like talking to a real person. It was trippy. He's a linguistic major, so technique and structure is his game. He wanted to know my take on forms of writing and I was embarrassed because I didn't really know anything. He talked about meters and sonnets while me and Angie sort of looked puzzled and confused not because we didn't know what they are but because we don't use those forms while writing.

But a point he made sometime later was that sometimes it's good to know the craft from form, style and syntax in order to have the freedom to break those forms with a purpose. I just know that I can become a stronger writer with some guidance and I hope beyond hope my Alma Mater will take me back and ignore all the crappy stuff I said about the school while I was there.

We'll see in a couple of months.

Time for bed. I can do another 8 hours of sleep before work tomorrow...I'm just saying.

Oh and I found a new Sufjan Stevens picture to drool over. Why can't i run into him on the subway.

I Fellowed Sleep

I will write a real post tomorrow.

Having an internship and working will make sleeping almost in possible...but it's worth it. I have so much to write though. About my cool internship at a production company that has made award winning documentraties.

I want to write about Lenny Kravitz and how he dresses like someone out of a GQ magazine. I want to write about my responsibilities as an intern which include administrative tasks (answering phones) and production tasks (transcribing video).

I want to write about the weird email (via facebook) I got from a guy I knew in middle school who has grown into a gorgeous lawyer in training. But I will have to do that all tomorrow because i have a day off then and I don't plan on doing anything but sitting at home and writing. It sounds like a good plan for the day.

Oh and lately I have become obsessed with Dylan Thomas. He's pretty much the shit these days:

I fellowed sleep who kissed me in the brain,
Let fall the tear of time; the sleeper's eye,
Shifting to light, turned on me like a moon.
So, planning-heeled, I flew along my man
And dropped on dreaming and the upward sky.

I fled the earth and, naked, climbed the weather,
Reaching a second ground far from the stars;
And there we wept I and a ghostly other,
My mothers-eyed, upon the tops of trees;
I fled that ground as lightly as a feather.

'My fathers' globe knocks on its nave and sings.
''This that we tread was, too, your father's land.'
'But this we tread bears the angelic gangs
Sweet are their fathered faces in their wings.
''These are but dreaming men. Breathe, and they fade.

'Faded my elbow ghost, the mothers-eyed,
As, blowing on the angels, I was lost
On that cloud coast to each grave-grabbing shade;
I blew the dreaming fellows to their bed
Where still they sleep unknowing of their ghost.

Then all the matter of the living air
Raised up a voice, and, climbing on the words,
I spelt my vision with a hand and hair,
How light the sleeping on this soily star,
How deep the waking in the worlded clouds.

There grows the hours' ladder to the sun,
Each rung a love or losing to the last,
The inches monkeyed by the blood of man.
And old, mad man still climbing in his ghost,
My fathers' ghost is climbing in the rain.

2nd Impressions

Tomorrow is my first day at the internship. I wouldn't even call it my first day because i figure it will be more of an orientation. But still I am finally doing something outside of being a bookstore girl.

Now that I have the internship I am a bundle of nerves. I don't know how to explain it. After getting the phone call from the guy (he called me right after Obama's speech) all I could think of was 'maybe he mistook me for someone else'. Maybe he called the wrong person and offered me the position by accident.

For that last two days I have been checking my email expecting him to say 'sorry, I rescind the internship. I hope there are no hard feelings'. But of course that email never came and now tomorrow morning I set out to see what I will be doing for the next few months.

It's exciting and scary. Word got around quick at work (due to my general excitement) about my internship and needless to say everyone has been giving me advice while patting me on the back with a "you get em' kid" grin.

After seeing my new boss (who will be referred to as...yes Lenny Kravitz) rocking some awesome yellow shoes and jeans I figured I needed to update my wardrobe a little by little to fit in with all the other cool people who work there. Because I hate shopping, I spent an hour in H&M, only to come out with a scarf and headband. But they were a cool scarf and headband that i planned to pair with some skinny jeans and a blouse.

The scarf and headband totalled $14 and I brought them to work with me because I only had an hour to spare before my shift started. By the end of the night said scarf and headband were magically gone! I thought I put the small H&M bag in my locker but as I inspected the empty space I could only assume that a) I misplaced it somewhere or b) someone took it. And lets be honest I wouldn't put it past some of my co-workers.

My only two items to impress Lenny Kravitz are now lying on the floor in the break room or in the hands of one of my co-workers. Crap. I will have to go in wearing my regular business casual wear tomorrow. And I am also out of 14 dollars.

Regardless, I am excited and happy though still a tad bit nervous. I don't know why i do this to myself. Why do I worry so much after I have fought so hard.

Inauguration....

Obama became president.

My cupcakes turned out really good.

I hung out with Angie.

I texted Marie in between breaks.

Oh...and I got an internship! I forgot to mention that little thing!

A change is a coming.

Yes Sir. It is

Red, White and... Robin Eggs Blue?

Tomorrow me and Angie have a day off. Tomorrow is also the inguration of Barack Obama, and not to pull out any cards or anything...but we are going to celebrate like it is 1999. We planned to just go to lunch tomorrow, but then we realized that we both wanted to see the inauguration and would have to postpone lunch until after he became president. So it made perfect sense to just watch the inauguration together and then get lunch after it was over. Of course this spiraled into watching the inauguration with snacks as if we are going to watch the Superbowl or something. But whatever I'm up for it.

I've been in the mood for cupcakes lately so I agreed to make patriotic ones. Needless to say I'm not too experience with red and blue dye.. the red is more like a rosey pink, while the blue is...not so blue. Maybe sky blue. or light blue. But bold and the proud blue it is not. Whatever they taste good, and that is all that matters.

As Monday comes to a close and I have yet to hear from hot Lenny Kravitz look-a-like, I can only assume I did not get this internship. Bummer. I knew this was pretty much a long shot, but I was hoping in that small glimmer of hope I have left, that I would get the position.

I have to start repaying loans soon and though I have not expressed any concerns about it...I am completely freaked out about having some set amount of money to pay back every month. This is a whole new thing to me. I don't own or rent anything (car, apartment, credit cards) and the cell phone I use is in my moms name. But for the next couple of months, until I go back school that is, I will have this looming thing waiting for me every first of the month. It's sort of terrifying. I wonder if my measly pay check will even cover half of the monthly payment. I wonder if they will take in account that the economy sucks and times are rough...for everyone.

Regardless, come February I have to contact the big loan people and talk money.I hate talking money, I would rather have someone else deal with all that stuff while I daydream my life away. Come feburary I may still be without a writing job, internship, or any of that stuff I moved here for in the first place. Jeez.

But enough of that. I have to prepare for my interview on Wednesday. I don't know anything about acquisitions and rights (in regard to publishing) so I am searching and investigating so that I am prepared for my meeting with this lady.

I can't seem to express my love of books and aspirations clear enough for anyone. That outside of my attempt to write them, I know and appreciate good literature. Hell, i don't know what I want to do in ten years but I have a pretty good idea it will involve writing, editing , or reading book...isn't that good enough for anyone these days.

I'm cranky, hungry, and slightly sad. I have some more cupcakes to frost before bed, even though my body is telling me to wait until tomorrow morning to do that crap.

Just One of the Guys.

Yesterday I saw my dad (and uncle) for the first time in years.

My dad called me a couple of weeks ago and was upset that I hadn't made an attempt to see him since I arrived in New York. He has a point. I am so use to my mom being my main parent that I sometimes forget that it is important for him to be in my life, especially since his health has been bad these last years.

After my grandma died his health started to deteriorate. Despite being in his 50's my grandma always watched over him. My dad has fifty years of being a wild, rebellious man beginning with him running away from home at 12 and his numerous indulgences with drugs, alcohol and women. She was sort of the person who kept him from falling apart and diving over some edge. When she died he lost the one thing that was constant to him. He lost the one person who could put him in his place and love him regardless of his short coming.

My dad is a man of a million stories,which is probably why I have gravitated to this field.

When I was little I use to be glued to them. He would hear a song or see a movie and then instantly be pulled into a memory he felt we all needed to hear. He is gregarious, so storytelling was never this intimate thing. He gets all excited and acts the memory out as best as he can. He would relay them in such a matter of fact way ('so my fist goes in his face, or chin, I can't remember') that you ignored the illegal aspects of them. You just watched him with some amazement and amusement because 20 minutes later you are still listening and still wanting to know more.

I am conflicted by how much I love my dad even though I don't understand the decisions he has made with his life. He's intelligent, beautiful, adventurous, strong willed and yet completely self destructive. He literally could have been anything from a writer to master salesman and yet....

I still admire him though. Anytime I talk to him or see him I become 6 again. I am captivated by everything that he does, I am tied to his words and mannerism like a love sick girl. Like he could do know wrong even though he has time and time again.

So impulsively I made a decision to see him. I called my uncle (his brother) and asked him to drive me to his house so I could hang out for a while. My uncle is a Grinch, he has been ever since I was born. As the youngest of six kids, he is mischievous and funny. We have had this back and forth banter thing since I was a little kid and for some reason it has transition well into my 20's. It's all in good fun because we simply like to argue, agree to disagree, and then argue again.

He said he would pick me up on several conditions. 1) 'you better be out there when he showed up' 2) 'I am not staying long' 3) 'Do not touch my radio' 4) 'I will smoke in the car' and 5) 'no back talking'. I broke rules 3 and 5 pretty quickly and he reminded me of this as he blew smoke in my direction. Oh, how I love my uncle. We had a pretty good conversation in between our bickering. He is no longer the aggressive ham that he use to be. For someone who always got in trouble he has calmed down a bit. I will not go to far and say there is a maturity to him now...but he has learned some lesson about life that has altered him.

He dropped me off at my dad's house and then threatened that he was not going to drive me back home. After a few punches to the arm he said I had a half and hour because he was leaving with or without me. He walked me inside and there was my dad....now grayed and a little heavier than I remember. Everything else about him was the same, the scar he has over his eye from a fight, the smell of smoke on his clothes, and that husky laugh of excitement and sadness.

There are never any awkward moments between us. I am his only girl and when I was younger I always felt like I couldn't compete for his respect because he was a macho dude and I was a little girl with pigtails. His interactions with me were always different from his interactions with my brother or half-brother. He expected more out of them, he talked to them using more expletives and told more detailed accounts of his wild and crazy days. I was the girl, nurtured and protected when all I really wanted to be was accepted.

Anyway, we spent our time together rushing stories. I told him about my time here, he told me about what my half-brother is doing now (you know, because he was in jail for five years. I'll get to that another time). I asked about his health which he evaded for the most part...and he asked me if I was happy. I wanted to say sometimes, because the truth is a little more complicated, but I didn't want him to worry so I said of course. And then after he made me practice some boxing moves "should any kid get in your fucking way" he said he had a present for me. Underneath his bed there was this huge duffel bag that contained some photos I have never seen before.

We are dreamers and for this reason memories from our past are a comfort. My mom and him have gotten into countless argument over these pictures because some of them are hers. Old age has calmed him too and he said he wanted me to mail some of them to her "you know as truce and all". The pictures are way too old for me to remember but they are stunning in what they capture. I have some of my dad and my uncle when they were really young. He is in a bar yelling at someone outside of frame. His smile is crocked but bright and you can tell there is an exciting trouble in the air.

I have one of my mom, looking demur and innocent on a stone structure overlooking a park. She is wearing her favourite outfit which consisted of corduroy pants, a white sweater and these bold red boots. Her hands are clasped together over her legs as if she didn't know where to place them and her eyes are cast down for the same reason I suppose. On the back of the picture is a note that she wrote him professing her love. Scandalous. We spent the rest of our time together putting names to some of the people in the photos and trying our hand at remembering the past.

Our time ended before he could get to the other album. And I was disappointed when I heard my uncle calling my name and threatening to leave me.

I made a promise that I would come back and I would have cried when he closed the car door if my uncle weren't sitting next to me giving me that stank eye. After leaving his house, my uncle said he was hungry and that we were going to grab some pizza before he took me home. I was okay with this, because part of it was my idea. We stopped at this amazing pizza place that i use to go to as a child. He paid, because I wasn't going to, and we talked about life. He said i would learn everything I needed to learn here and those lessons wouldn't make me a better or worse person...they would just shape my perspective and approach to things. I told he was cool, despite being a douche sometimes, he was cool none the less. He said he didn't care about being cool, but he smiled anyway.

After swindling another slice of pizza out of him he said that spending some time with me wasn't that bad. I wasn't too much of a pain in the ass ('though you still have a big mouth') and he would bring me to my dad's house more often if i wanted "you know, it's up to you of course". I think yesterday was the best day that I've had here. I was like one of the guys for once in my life. It was an easy, breezy day where I felt like me for once.

I didn't know i missed them so much until I was with them. Sometimes I feel a source of anger towards my family situation. As I have often said, my moms choice to marry my dad made my grandma very angry. She was not a fan of his wildness and inability to be tamed. He went against so many things and yet my mom liked him enough to marry him and have my brother and I. We have been the blunt of many remarks due to their union. Anytime my brother gets in trouble or I open my big fat mouth to protest something it always because of the Hughes blood running through me. But as look at the rest of my family, as I evaluate their own problems...i realize that my mom and dad were trying to create stability out of the chaos they were both born into. And though the didn't succeed they tried and loved hard and burned out quickly in the attempt to do so.

They become more magical in my eyes every day because of the sacrifices they each made so my brother and I could be more than just ordinary. They are so far from perfect it's almost beautiful. I wonder if I get my story telling stuff from him. I imagine it has rubbed off in some way or another. He has captivated me enough that I have tried to emulate him in some weird attempt to connect. Whatever it is, yesterday was awesome and it made me want to fight for something here just a little while longer. I can't throw in the towel yet.

In other news, I haven't heard anything about the internship with the production company. This could either mean hot interview guy will email me on Monday or...I didn't get it. I still have my interview on Wednesday to prepare for. If i can remember that a literary agency is not a publishing house, I may do just fine come wednesday.

Tip Toeing hurts my feet.

It was freezing cold today and I had to make my way to work at 8 in the morning just to arrive there by nine. By the time I woke up there was already snow on the ground. I like snow, except the whole traveling in the snow, icy roads, and the cold wind that smacks you in the face as if you owe it money. But the actual snow is pretty cool.

Anytime I see myself on the schedule from 9-5 I cringe because I know what that means. For the whole day I will be trapped in the kids department because secretly the managers are hoping that i will like it enough to be placed there permanently should the people in that department call out sick or have a day off.

With my old guy leaving ( i could cry) that leaves only two people trained to work in the kids department. Trust me there is no science working in kids, the layout is almost the same...it's dealing with parents that's a pain in the ass. I have this theory that as soon as you have kids the stuff that didn't concern you before means the world to you now. Sometimes all you hear in the children's section are parents talking about issues they know nothing about but feel should be important to them for the sake of their children. "How can I raise Timmy in a world where sharks are being killed for there fins", "There is too much sex on TV did you see [insert any show] lately", yadda yadda bull crap. Even if these concerns are legit there is certain level of superiority with these parents that is suffocating.

Needless to say I hate working in the kids department. The department itself is located a few aisles away in a desolate corner decorated like a fairy tale land. It's pretty, but it so far removed from everything else in the store that you can't help but get a little lonely in there. When I am in there I ask some of my co-workers to visit or, to the frustration of one manager, i deliberately leave kids to do other things. She, the manager in question, usually escorts me back into the department with a "now you know you have to stay in here" speech. Whatever.

It's mind numbing in there, and of course there was nothing to do. When I wasn't straightening books that weren't crocked, I was trying to look busy. This included cutting pieces of paper, twirling my pen, and playing with the toy trucks someone stashed in the drawer. Sometimes I can get away with reading a book in there but that all depends on who the manager on duty is that day. For the most part a 9-5 in kids consist of me figuring out what to do for 8 hours.

Towards the end of my shift "Porter" made an appearance. I go back and forth between confronting him ( "so how's your dead girlfriend?") and hiding from him. It doesn't make it any easier that his friends (some of my co-workers) haven't utter a word to me since the incident. It is like we talk about each other to other people but when we encounter each other we don't know what to say...so we pretend to be cordial. He wants to say something to me, I know it and there is a part of me that is afraid of what he wants to tell me. Today he kept coming in to the kids (while I was pretending to work) for stupid reasons.

It was evident that he was coming in there for reasons other than "do you need me to take something back to customer service" or "have you seen [insert employees name who i haven't seen all day because I am trapped in kids!]". I can't even look at him anymore without seeing all his expectations about me fade away. I told Angie that among the things I don't like about him, it really irked me when he gave me that amethyst. Though it was a nice gift and sort of my birthstone (though i prefer aquamarine), I'm not really into rocks. Something he would have known if he paid attention to anything outside of his own wants. I talk about writing all the time, and if you have a crush on me and want to make an impression giving me a pen or even a notepad will impress me more. Because a real crush would know how quickly I go through both of those items.

He makes me nervous only because now he is trying to figure me out. I spent the rest of the day tip toeing around hoping to fade in the background. Apart of me doesn't understand what he sees in me and apart of me doesn't care to know. But in a non threatening way I feel hunted by him and I want to put a halt to his pursuits before I have to pull out the "bitch card". But in all honesty I don't even know how to use that card because I have been apart of the passive aggressive club for a while.

Things will die down I am sure. He will get tired of me ignoring him and move on to someone else. In the meantime I will just have to get use to sneaking around the store and hiding behind displays.

I might find out my internship tomorrow. I have been nervous about the whole thing since Tuesday. Of course the moment my interview 'high' lessened I began to second guess the whole thing. Maybe I shouldn't have talked about my love of story telling so much, maybe I shouldn't have been so honest about my inexperience, maybe i shouldn't have been thinking "i want to touch your hair" while he was talking. Did I sound to eager, did I sound to bored. I shouldn't have smiled so much maybe he thinks I 'm a big flirt, maybe he thinks I want to work for them because I have a script I want to propose.

I want this internship more than the others because I have an invested interest in this one and i know if I don't get it I will be crushed. There is no doubt about it. I will just be crushed.

I don't want to think about that stuff. Not tonight anyway. I have a movie to watch, a book to read, and a new sims expansion pack to play (apartment life!). Oh the life of simulated game where everything is easy and nice and I get to live next to Sufjan Stevens.

My So Called Life

"The worst feeling is suddenly realizing that you don't measure up, and that, in the past, when you thought you did, you were a fool"





God I love that show. It was cancelled before I was nine and I only began watching it when they played re-runs on MTV. By the time it came on MTV I was 10 or 11 and my mom signed my brother and I (along with his friend john) up for a karate class. After watching the first episode one night, I told my mom that I wasn't really interested in karate, just so I could stay home and watch the show. Oh yeah... I was a dedicated tv watcher even then.



There is something compelling and totally about Angela Chase. It could be her introspection, or her fondness for guys who are totally unattainable and that are bad for you. But more importantly, even at 10, I related to Angela Chase because of her attempt to create her identity in the midst of well...a place (high school) where you are trying to figure out who the hell you are and what the hell you want to do with your life and self.

Today I went to lunch with Angie again. It seems like this will be our main form of hanging out which frightens me because a) I don't want to gain weight and b) lunch is flipping expensive. Despite these two drawbacks I really like Angie. We click on some weird level due to our frustrations with life. I mean we talk about a lot more than just work and post college life, but it is the enduring string that ties us together.

It's weird. New York has changed me and I no longer think the change is bad. I am struggling so hard to just create a life for myself here that a difference is evident in everything that I do. I am a little harden but not in that bad way. I just understand the reality of my position and that I am literally fighting for something that could turn out to be a complete bust. Regardless, creating an identity and forging some life independent of my family (my mom) and my small existence is small town USA, is very difficult.

I am busting to be more than what I am today. Or what I was yesterday. I want to make a statement about who I am and who I can be if I just take the risk to be that girl. Of course I am not going to dye my hair red and start hanging out with a girl named Rayanna Graff (though i wouldn't totally be opposed to either). But I am at this point, that i probably should have gone through when i was 16, where i want to test everything by going against some grain. I want to see who I can become when I am not deterred by own insecurities.

There was a lot of talk about this sort of stuff over lunch. It's so weird when you have spent the last 6 years in a quiet shell and then you emerge out of it with so much to say. There are all of a sudden these things you didn't even know you felt until it comes tumbling out of your mouth. I trust Angie and for some reason I am able to confess fully my concerns about the future, as she of course talked about her own. Her job interview went okay, but she feels like the person interviewing her was a little harsh. she said that she can't go on making little to no money at the bookstore and still being able to feed herself and support her life here.

I too am at that almost breaking point where I can't continuing fulfilling my everyday responsibilities just so I can eat lunch and pay my loans. There is a part of me that wants to have the new york dream but I am quickly realizing that it is waning or I am waning in my attempts.

I never imagined it would be so hard to grow up and become someone. But our conversations are always about how difficult it is, and how time doesn't allow us to hold off on the whole growing up thing. One day you are 10 years old watching MY SO CALLED LIFE while your brother and his friend are taking karate lessons at some shit school up the street and the next day you are an adult or at least on some cusp of adulthood trying to become someone that you don't despise. And it is at this moment that you have to decide who the hell you want to be or you risk fading into the pile of those who couldn't bare being a disappointment to their own dreams.

Like most things, I know what i don't want to be or have in life. A boring job, a boring life, with a boring janitor dude who touches napes. But I feel like I'm a million miles away from figuring out what I do want that doesn't include "pizza. differently pizza for lunch today." Maybe all of my indecision, anxieties and general fears about the future and my ability to endure it are part of those 'growing pains' people talk about. The pains that are more than just physical because it really comes from enduring that great change and adjustment to a life that you have to create for yourself outside of manuals and how-to guides.

It kills me that I have to make a decision soon. I am not prepared for this. I am not prepared to take ownership of my life yet. I would rather just flounder around for awhile and hope that everything falls into place...eventually. Right? Maybe I should just dye my hair and contemplate life sullenly while staring at the guy of my dreams from afar. But the guy of my dreams as of late just put in his walking papers and will not be working at the bookstore come Monday. And even though I am a little afraid of making decisions and taking risks to become 'someone' outside of expectations, a part of me wants to take ownership of my life though I don't particularly know what that entails yet.


My head hurts. I have another interview next week. I should prepare myself with questions and answers but I honestly am in no mood to do that tonight. Combined with studying for the GRE I just can't bare having to come up with answers to "so where do you see yourself in ten years". Because at this point it literally is "not working at the bookstore. not being a complete loser. and being a competent and interesting person I can be okay living with for the rest of my life circa ten years from now". I don't know how well I am doing on that end.

Time for bed.

'The Addition"

By the time I am done with this city, I will be an interview expert. I figure I have gone on enough interviews to gain some sort of badge or honorable mention in my pursuit of a job.



Today I woke up not wanting to go to my latest interview. After ditching publishing for awhile I figured I would start applying for internships in other fields. I mean I have a bunch of interest outside of reading someones story and telling them "thanks but no thanks" I mean I like music, movies, and and. And hey an internship is an internship right?



So last week I got an email about an internship at a production company. For a brief, and by brief I mean semester, time I was a part of the whole movie making club. And though my responsibilities were limited to being an assistant the director and spraying freebreeze in the room...I did get credit for those tasks. I did kind of decorate the set and I did kind of carry a table. But more importantly I liked it. There was something slightly guerrilla style and fun about it.

So I applied to this internship on the basis of my interest in film making and my experience on a set. He emailed me back a couple of days later and we schedule an interview for today. I have been out of it the last few days. I mean first the 'Porter' situation and then trying to figure out whether to stay here or go home combined with my loan repayment looming over my head , has given me a lot of headaches lately.

I woke up with the intention that I wouldn't go. I dragged myself to the train station with the intention that I wouldn't go. And by the time I made it to the location (after getting lost for ten minutes) I almost turned around and headed home. Trust me, I am learning to take rejection but it still hurts. And sometimes, no matter how strong you are, you just can't face rejection with a smug smile. It hurts.

But, instead of turning around I entered the building with glimmer of optimism. I made sure not to piss off the guard and after rambling about the weather he seemed to like me. I smiled and made my way upstairs via the elevator at the last moment realized that my belt has loosened. Instead of being lady like and waiting until the elevator stop to adjust myself in the bathroom, I unbuckled my belt and started fixing the problem as I got closer and closer to the 7th floor. By the time the door open, my hands were literally fumbling with a belt and a zipper as I tried to regain some composure.

When the doors open it was as if i was walking into the offices off Bruce Wayne and Eco-Friendly techy. The loft was amazing. The walls and floors were wood so it gave this warm ambiance of a spa/ bookstore. To offset the presence of wood there were iron structures everywhere (but not in a big bulky way) which sort of resemble the inside structure of clocks. It was flipping amazing. Of course in the loft there were several small offices each with a cool clear sliding door. I was absolutely in love. Of course at this moment, hands in/on pants and jaw on the floor...I realized that this was a real production company. I was not in Kansas anymore. I quickly zipped and buttoned and then put on my kitten heels (for a little height). After a short wait I was greeted by the hottest guy I have or will be ever interviewed by.

He looked like Lenny Kravitz, he dressed like a fashion icon, and he was sweet in that "i haven't slept all night kind of way and I have no idea who you are or why you are here...but I'm down". I automatically commented him on the loft and then we went and did the whole interview thing. I went well...I mean once again I don't really have any experience in actual film making. I mean my task were mostly administrative and dealt with keeping everyone organized and setting up a schedule of our shoots( 'if you ever need someone to frebreeze the set'. I didn't say this but I was thinking it). I did emphasize those points though, no matter how limited they seemed.

When I say he was cool, I mean it. I couldn't stop staring at his yellow shoes the whole interview. He has bohemian chic down to a science. I was polite, and funny and I asked a lot of questions. He answered all of them, and then asked me what I wanted from the internship (Experience, experience, experience). When it was all over he introduced me to one of his cinematographer (who i mistook for the secretary).

He said everything looked good and that he would contact me on Friday. I've heard that before but I really want this one. When I got back on the elevator I think I screamed like a girl and then I went to the security guard to tell him how beautiful the 7th floor. By then he was accompanied by the mailman (who he introduced me to). I spent some time with them chatting about that damn weather again and where I was from. They kept asking me if I was going to be a new 'addition' to the 7th floor and i said I wouldn't know for a couple of days but I sure hoped so.

I want to be the new 'addition'. I want to be in that office. I want to be working with and for Lenny Kravitz look-a-like. I want to be assisting or freebreezing. I want. I want. I want. But first I have to wait until Friday. Crap.

When the bubble bursts...

I have actually written quite a few blog post this week but posting them has been a different story. I guess I will consider those the lost blog posts of 2009 to be published sometime in the near future.



I may have an interview on Tuesday with a production company. I am still pursuing publishing houses but that something in the water (the recession) is making finding an internship a hard thing. I contacted a production company last week after seeing their post online and i scheduled the interview for this Tuesday but I left the time of said interview up to them. They have not emailed me back in regards to what time i am suppose to be there so I will have to push past my anxiety and call him Tomorrow in regards to when I should make my way into the city (he said calling was fine).



I hope i get something. Anything. I want to go back to school, but i dread moving back home to small town USA for a couple of months. My mom is ecstatic that i am coming home, she is even putting money in my account to help with the cost of the plane ticket. She also put a bookshelf in my room because she knows it is the one thing I have been asking for in any room i have lived in since birth.



But I don't want to give up on this place. Sometimes i feel like a big failure but other times i feel like I have learned so much here. I am different and maybe not in a bad way. I am little more assertive, i know what i want, and i have a voice, a voice that is so much stronger. I don't know if I'll carry it back with me to small town USA but I hope so.



Angie has an interview tomorrow and she was freaking out at work the other day because she needed to have Monday off and couldn't find anyone to switch schedules with her. She couldn't switch with me because my hours weren't any better and I literally saw a meltdown in progress. She said she is like that. She doesn't handle stress well and that she sometimes (but not often) she crumbles when the stress becomes to much. She eventually found someone and now she has Monday off. She is 27 and has a master degree and this interview is a make or break opportunity. I often hang out with people a lot older then me and sometimes i forget that even though we get along there are differences in our age that i am starting to comprehend.



At 27 she is just in a different place. Having a crappy book job for her is a totally different thing. She had a career in archival work but was laid off a couple of months ago. She has a serious boyfriend (who lives across the pond) , a serious apartment and a serious life. Though five years doesn't seem like a huge it is when you are in your 20's. Or 30's and 40's. So this interview tomorrow is a big thing. It's not just a "oh , I didn't get the job woe is me". It's big. It's a life altering interview.



On Wednesday we both have a day off, and I figure we will either a) be excited about our new prospects and talk about it over drinks or b) lets not think about b. B sucks. B sucks hard. So drinks for every one!



It's weird that at a certain age you have to start planning out your life. I don't go much into gender roles and society but sometimes it feels harder to be a girl. And not in the physical "I can do anything you can do better way". There are just more choices and sacrifices that we have to think about making. I mean I was talking to Marie that other day and she basically said she probably wouldn't have kids. When I asked her why she didn't give me the "because i don't like them" speech. She literally summed it up in a numerical equation.



"So I'm 23 now. Which means for me to have kids before the age of 30 I would have to have started a serious relationship with someone 5 months ago. If this even turned out to be the guy I wanted to have a family with. Add in 3 years of just dating I'll be 26 when I get married. I don't want to have kids right away, I want to at least be married for a couple of years which means I wouldn't technically start having kids until I was 30 which isn't good because I have this disorder that makes having kids hard...so I'm not going to have any".

???

I mean I don't think dudes have this issue. Or if they do, I'm not hearing about it. I remember when we were discussing gender roles in my medieval class, women's role in society came up a lot. A student made a comment that went something like "the gender roles are pretty much the same but now we (women) have to find some balance between wanting a career and wanting to be a mom, or a wife, or just a plan girl. ". My teacher agreed, so much I thought she was going to raise her hand and say "praise Jesus". We all sort of agreed. It is a legit concern. A concern that I am confronting but from a far.



I did not mean for this to be such a feminist post but another thing has been bugging me about being a girl. The "porter' is getting on my nerves. After reading that interesting post on jezebel.com , I no longer feel wrong about my actions. Why is it that if a guy, any guy, shows you an interest in you it is assumed you should just go for it or be completely flattered. I mean in the town Marie is trapped in, she is hanging out with a girl who has already found a guy, moved in with him and now she thinks she may be pregnant. Said girl has only been in that town for 6 months and she doesn't even like the guy that much, he was just the first one to show an interest.

It bothers me that you can't be nice to a guy without establishing some boundary so your nape doesn't get assaulted. That niceness can be used to manipulate in a situation and give cause for a guy to assume some right over you, without your knowledge or agreement. Case in point, after said disaster of a 'date' it is I who looks like a bad person towards all of his guy friends at work. "I" rejected the nice"Porter", there must be something wrong with 'me' because I don't want to date a guy who showed some interest. "i" am at fault because I gave him the wrong signals by being nice and polite. They don't come out and say this but it lingers on their tongues during conversations with me. "I" am the bitch because I rejected someone who had/has an interest in me. "I" am the bitch because I don't have an interest in him.

Yesterday we worked briefly together. He walked around with a sad face and a mournful tone to his voice. He said hey to me but that was the extent of his exchange. He was trying to make me feel guilty. Yes, feel guilty about not liking him. This is preposterous and ridiculous. Every time I turned a corner he was there to give me a sad face and then he would go in the opposite direction. Of course, this makes it seem as if I broke his heart just because i had a few stupid conversations with him and agreed to go to the movies...the movies. I didn't agree to make reservations at a resturtant, I didn't agree to make out with him when the ball dropped, I didn't agree to be his girlfriend. It is weird that he took possession of my own right to choose who i want to date.

Like I would automatically like and be enthralled by him because he showed some interest. It is almost insulting. So last night after I leave, he asks Angie ( my new friend) why i won't go out with him. She tells him that I am just not interested (good answer). Upon hearing this he preceded to hit on her and give her the same sap story he gave me when I first met him. My niceness card came out when he told me about his girlfriend in England. They were engaged but she decided to break it off. He couldn't understand why she wouldn't want a dude who was totally devoted to loving her. He told me all the corny stuff he use to tell her over the phone "i love you more than life itself". I mean it was cheesier than a halmart card but I still felt bad for him and took the time to listen to his story.

It frustrates me beyond end. So while he is hitting on Angie he tells her that not only has his girlfriend broken off the engagement but she has died. All of a sudden there has been a death. Of course he is looking for sympathy because I broke his heart and his pretend girlfriend died. It's sad that our only protection from leacherous guys is pulling out the bitch card. I don't even think I have exercised that card but he is tempting me. I don't know, hopefully he won't grope her nape or I will feel horrible.

I'm sorry that I don't like him but what is wrong with being able to choose the person you want to spend your time with. What is wrong with being uninterested and a just nice. I don't know. My head hurts, good thing I have the sims to entertain me for the rest of the day.

Late Nights. Early Mornings.

I am working on this hanging out thing. When I am not breaking hearts (god I feel awful about that) I am embarking on this new thing called...friendships. Who would have thunk it.



There are several things I hate about working at a bookstore. Rude customers, rude children, closing, getting hit on by old men, teenagers trashing the store, and being anywhere near the cash register. I despise handling people's money and trying to sell a $25 dollar membership. Ain't doing it.



But there are some perks. Discounts on everything and there are a crapload of 20 year olds working at the bookstore all feeling the effect of the recession and limited job offers. This has brought my social life to life in a sense. There are some co-workers that I strictly hang out with at work and then there are those that i trust enough to hang out with outside of work (except for Porter. God I really really feel awful about that).



I don't seem to have a problem making friends which now puts a whole new spin on this anxiety thing. I can't even blame it on any external factors because in front of other people I am...okay. When I went home a couple of weeks ago, I traveled to my Alma mater to buy a sweatshirt (that I wear almost every day). I could not leave without stopping by my therapists office. I knew that I wouldn't be able to see him, but I left a note telling him that even though the real world is a lot different than i thought, I am okay. I am managing, i am dealing with the whole lot in stride. And as I continue to try to make something of myself here, I can only describe my current state as 'surviving and doing okay'.



There are a couple of girls at work that i consider more than buds. We are charting on 'friend' territory and I have made an effort to hang out with them outside of the confides of James Joyce and Stephenie Meyer. Since the new year I have hung out with Marisol (the graphic designer), Abagail (the PhD cello player) and Angie (the girl from Kansas). They are the three I have connected with the most based on our dissatisfaction with our careers and our similar interests. Unlike the rest of my co-workers I warmed up to these three pretty quickly (well it took a while with Abagail) and I knew I wanted to try the whole social thing with them.

On New Years Day Marisol and I saw Milk, went to the mall, had Italian food and discussed traveling the world. She is level headed, funny and in love with Emile Hirsch. She reminds me of my friends from childhood. There is nothing pretentious about. She's easy to be around and adventurous.

The Next day, even though i was tired, I had made plans to hang out Abagail. I was suppose to hang out with her on Christmas Eve (along with hanging out with Porter earlier in the day) but I had to cancel on her too because of my cousins birthday. She has depression and a lot going on, so I didn't want to cancel again and give her the wrong impression. I have become obsessed with the french culture again so i suggested a french movie and pizza at her place. She lives in this beautiful house on a street called Battle Hill. She has been inviting me to her place for a while to check out the place. I walked in and it was like a writers retreat. She has two roommates and they share a three story home. Really it's just a foyer(1st floor), followed by the main floor(2nd floor) which has two bedrooms, the kitchen, dinning room, living room and bathroom and then the third floor is really an attic converted into a bedroom. The house had so much character combined with the greatest natural light I have seen in a while. The floors were hardwood, and the decor was simple and chic. Her roommates are MA students while she is the only one working on her PhD. Because of this the house has music stands and music sheets all over the place. It was pretty fantastic.

We bought a lot of junk food for the two hour movie, but spent the better part talking. I think I like her because i relate to her sadness. I mean it is not the only reason I like her, but our sullenness connects us. She talked about her last relationships and the current issue she has with the boy she knows is the one. He is Argentinian but speaks six languages and has the bluest eyes I've ever seen. When she talked about him you can tell he meant the world too her despite his flighty ways.

We had a good time, I felt like an adult. We agreed we'd check out the Guggenheim soon because we are both obsessed with museums.

After 2 days of rest I spent all day yesterday with Angie. Though she has only been working there 5 weeks, I like the hell out of this girl. I trained her which is probably why we get along so well...but we made fast friends. We have hung out three times, and they have always ended with us at a restaurant gossiping about life, love and writing. Yesterday we got some great Mexican food and then got lost in the most industrial town we have ever encountered. She has a GPS in her car so we decided to find a cafe so we could grab coffee and possibly find a used bookstore. We ended up in this really cool section of town that was completely Irish. Irish pubs, restaurants, cafes, deli, and even a supermarket.

There was this cool placed called the Irish Cafe where we grabbed some strong coffee and dessert. She likes to write which is really good, and of course we bonded over my weird date with Porter (seriously I think I hurt his feelings). We have the most in common or at least the most to talk about. She is bat shit crazy and has the loudest laugh I have ever heard but she doesn't mind getting lost, or trying new things. We stayed out till six and promised to hang out again when our schedules give us time to do so. She has an interview for a 'real' job on Monday and I am both happy and jealous for her.

After two coffees, Mexican food, apple pie and a raspberry crepe my body started to rebel on me. With the combination of a strong Irish brew and a mix of other things...I stayed up til 3 am. My mind was going insane and I cried for no reason at all. Ok, I cried for several reasons. Though I am excited about this new aspect of my life, I wonder if this is the person I wanted to be or even the person i want to become. i wonder if I am sacrificing one part of myself for another. I wonder if there is not some fine balance that i can find between my external facade and my internal anxieties.

If I can function in the 'real world' with people and responsibilities then why do i still feel all screwed up and weird and antsy and withdrawn. Why do I still want to retreat in a world of isolation. I am afraid of expectations. I am afraid of possessing potential and not being able to access it. I am afraid of letting people down, of being exposed as some fraud. That the girl who looks like she has it all together is really just...that girl in her house of anxiety.

I have been saying this often (to myself mostly), that i feel like myself yet distinctly different. Differences I don't know if I like, differences i often wonder about. If they are healthy, goal oriented, life altering, purposeful differences. If they are differences that I can live with and be responsible for. I feel exactly the same yet different, and I hope that these differences are beneficial though I wish to contain the things that make me feel like me.This could be the Irish coffee talking. I'm rambling and my stomach hurts. Never again will i drink two coffees in one night. I can do without.

From Bad to Worse.

This is not any indication of the year. I hope.



So yesterday, I woke up exhausted from the night before. I had mad insomnia after the ball drop and 2009 was upon me. My thoughts were running wild and I couldn't contain them enough to fall asleep. I think i finally closed my eyes around 2 but feel asleep at 3.



There was a girl,Marisol, who worked at the bookstore a month or two ago who i instantly befriended. We got along so well that when she left we promised each other we would hang out and see a movie. Because we are both slightly obsessed with Emile Hirsch we have been talking about seeing Milk (biopic about Harvey Milk, the Mayor Of Castro Street, who was the first openly gay man to be elected and serve in office. He was later assassinated but his legacy is strong in the gay (and straight) community because of his fight for equal rights for all people regardless of sexual orientation. I love him). We have emailed each other back and forth, and finally managed to find a day to hang out. New Years Day.



I put the whole 'Porter' thing behind me and spent the whole day hanging out with her. It was pretty amazing. We saw Milk and squealed every time Emile made an appearance. The movie was stunning and exceeded all of my thoughts. It doesn't matter what you personally think of Sean Penn, he played the hell out of Harvey Milk. He was brilliant as Milk and I was left almost in tears at the end. She was too, but we both laughed it off and decided to grab some pizza after the movie.



As were exiting the theater one of the girls who worked there stopped me in the hall. She asked if I was Beckett and I of course nodded with some apprehension.



"You work at the bookstore downstairs?" She asked even though she some how knew the answer.



"Yes."



"You're the girl 'Porters' been talking about. How was the date?"



Marisol laughed out loud. Seriously. I told her about the 'date' thingy while we waited for the movie to start. She said she saw it coming from a mile away and was sorry she hadn't warned me. When she was working at the bookstore she said she sort of thought he had a thing for me because he kept agreeing with everything I said. So of course when the girl asked how the date went , Marisol laughed because i had already told her everything. She stopped laughing when she saw how serious the girl looked and she excused herself and went to the bathroom.



I told the nice girl that the date went okay i guess. That the movie wasn't something i would really see but I had an good time.



All of sudden she looked so relieved "Thank God. He has been talking about this for a long time. I am like his big sister and all he has talked about is you and that date. He came upstairs last week (because the movie theater is located on the 3rd floor from where i work) and was so excited that you agreed to go. I'm glad you had a good time"



Yeah. Great time. When Marisol came back she apologized for laughing and then asked me what I was going to do about the whole 'Porter' thing. A part of me wants to ignore him, and hope that he will get the picture and ignore me back. And then another part of me wants to take him aside and tell him that i can't be who he wants me to be and that i am not looking for a relationship with anyone who isn't Sufjan Stevens. I kid.



So after the movie Marisol and I grabbed some lunch. We have a lot in common and spent the better part of the hour discussing books, movies and boys we like. I forgot how much i missed having friends. The whole not eating alone thing is kind of cool. She offered to drive me back to my house so I could change clothes and then she could drive me to work. On the way to my house we discovered that we both have an interest in travel and art and she added that sometimes she just wants to 'go to Ireland' for no reason at all. I think I love her.



When we arrived at my job (after I changed clothes) I was greeted by one of 'Porter's' friend who also works there. Me and this dude have had some problems in the past (he's a douche and I don't like it) so I was taken aback when he came up to me and said "why did you ditch Porter last night". Marisol once again laughed out loud but regained her composer a lot faster the 2nd time around. I sort of laughed and said that I didn't ditch him I just had to go home.



Marisol and I parted ways after a hug and promises that we would do this again (we are thinking about going to an art show so when can pretend we are some critics or something) and i saw on the schedule that Porter was closing with us that night. Any attempt to go unnoticed by him was quickly abandoned when we ran into each other in the break room. I said hey and then ran in the bathroom and cursed out the bathroom stall.



The whole night he was trying to get my attention. He hugged me inappropriately in front of my manager, he whispered my name some aisles over, and he asked me to go to his band practice after work. I said no, and that i was tired...he is a persistent stalker. Okay, that word is a little harsh but kind of true. You know when you can feel someone staring at you. There is like this weird heat that surrounds you and suddenly it feel as if cameras are watching. I was standing at customer service which is adjacent to Cafe. I was talking to a co-worker and all of a sudden I felt that heat and when I turned he was staring at me but looked away quickly.

They know how to pick me.

I shouldn't feel bad for not liking a guy. But I just don't like him. I don't like anything about him. I don't like that he's into guns. I don't like that he is a janitor and a bad one at that. I don't like that he touches napes and stares at me weirdly. I don't like that he doesn't stir my passion. That he doesn't make me want to see him everyday. He is just this guy. A guy that I don't feel anything for. I have to do something about this. I have to let him know that I am not looking for anything with anyone. Yesterday I was trying so hard to be distant so he would get the picture and yet...he didn't. So I have to do something or remain the object of someones weird desires.

Good Morning 2009.

Hello 2009. I hope you treat me better than 2008, what a prick.