Post Grad-The Movie.

So a couple of weeks I saw the trailer for the movie Post Grad starring Gilmore Girls Alum Alexis Bledel. Needless to say, three minutes later I was mortified by the concept of this movie and a little embarrassed that someone in Hollywood thought they could capture post grad life so eloquently with the help from Alexis Bledel. Let me explain where this anger comes from.

As a post grad person, there is no movie or book that has yet to captured (for me) the essence of having no idea what to do with your life after graduating college. The movie that has come the closet to capturing the quarter-life crisis is Reality Bites, but I was eight when the movie came out and had no idea what I had in store for me. And even now watching something and living something are to different things.

So when I saw these cheesetastic trailer with Alexis Bledel playing a college grad who moves back in with her parents while she dissects what to do with her new life now...I almost gagged. I mean literally. First, because Rory Gilmore-excuse me-Alexis Bledel is not a convincing lead. I mean, I don't know the chick but she seems like she could land something. Modeling, being pretty, dating co-stars...I don't know I'm just saying. Secondly, Michael Keaton is her dad (in the movie) and Batmans daughter doesn't have post grad problems.

In all honesty, what irks me the most about this movie is I already the ending will be a 'feel good, everything works out declaration for perseverance through the storm' BS. Here you have an above average looking female, with Batman as her dad, two love interests (including Rodrigo Santoro who is the furthest thing from an average looking guy), searching for stable things to make something meaningful out of her life. But by doing that, the movie will not depict the depression, anxiety, and general lowness that Hollywood rarely captures. And it's not because they can't, it's because people don't want to see that. People want to see things begin badly and then work themselves out with a few small (and cute) bumps along the way.

I know, I am being a tad bit harsh on this movie. I should take it for what it is, a nice pick me upper...but the truth is I couldn't watch a movie that says "this is your life, this is your life Hollywood style. Don't you wish it was this simple" because at the end of the day after I watch Alexis Bledel land her dream job, dream boyfriend, and dream life with her Batman dad in tow (because I believe Michael Keaton can make anything right. seriously), I will still be be going through my own post grad life with a suck ass job, old creepy dudes who hit on me, and a undecided life sans Michael Keaton.

Marie and I talk about our post grad lives all the time, and I realize that we are experiencing quarter life crisis hard core. We have tendency to talk about the past (a lot) and what we would change to make our present lives easier. I have a tendency to fret over what kind of career I want and how I get to achieving that,while Marie hopes that going to work and coming home aren't going to be the highlight of her life.

I don't know if there is a moment when you know you are on the right path. When you know that you are okay with the life you have created for yourself. For someone who has suffered with anxiety her whole life, I don't think there will ever be that moment where I am like "yep, this is exactly where I wanted to be, when I wanted to be there, with the people I've wanted to be with". If this moment does occur, then this quarter life crisis is worth it, if at the end of it's run I am content with my life, even though I hate that word.

Until then I will skip out on seeing this movie. I find it more depressing than uplifting, because it will lack the despair of post grad life the way I'd like to see it.

In other news, the editor emailed me back and I am a go for this internship. I do not know why I feel that having a publishing internship on my resume will be a good thing, especially since I don't know if I want a career in publishing but it's only for 3 months, and at this point any experience is better than none. I have said this a million but I do lean towards magazine and production jobs. Marie thinks I should email Lenny and ask if I can intern with him again. I think she really wants me to get in touch with Adam again, who of course is there IT guy. I think having more than one production experience on my resume is better than just interning with them but I will in the future ask him if he knows of anyone who is looking for a stellar research gal.

We'll see, first things first I guess.

The Result of my Mishaps

So I have my computer back. Again.

This is the 2nd time in the span of 6 weeks that my computer has gone to Geek Squad. Unfortunately this time I did not have a warranty (even though I am not sure it covers viruses) and I had to hand over 200 dollars for my computer. Along with the nice fee, the geek squad dude wanted to give me some suggestions. First, I need to install some virus protection on my computer. I have not had a proper one since college hence the infection. Secondly, I should think of expanding the memory on my computer. It will make it run a lot faster. This was not a bad bit of advice but after spending 200 bucks, minutes earlier, I was in no mood for recommendations, even though I did end up buying a virus protection software.

I hope nothing else happens to my computer. I am sans warranty, and sans money to purchase a new computer or to keep getting this one fixed every time I do something stupid to it.

Anyway, In less than 2 weeks I will be in New York again. The nerves are killing me and I am excited though apprehensive about returning. Excited because I hope the next couple of months will lead to a real job, a real apartment, and maybe some resemblance of a real life. Apprehensive because until all of those things happen, I am returning to my bookstore job and my aunt. The aunt thing is not so bad (free rent) but I just found out that one of my favorite managers at the bookstore is leaving in September. There are only 2 cool managers, and without her we now only have one.

This only makes it more evident that I need to get out of the bookstore. After a year I am still there, selling people The Secret twenty times over. I am hoping that this internship will make me a successful candidate for entry level job. I wanted to email the editor last week to remind her about the internship and to give her the date that I am available to start. But with the computer incident and sheer laziness I waited until today. I hope that she has not forgotten about me, or decided to give someone else the position...just because. My email was very polite yet direct.

I am banking on this experience to catapult me into an editorial assistant position. I know. It's pretty lame that right now that is the gold at the end of my rainbow. I kept telling myself that I don't even know if book publishing is for me. It seems a little rigid and static. I lean towards magazine publishing and even production because I'll b able to write, but I need to get my start somewhere and right now this is the most logical point to start from.

I hate talking about boring stuff like this but unfortunately it is my number one concern. I am so freaked out about making the wrong decision for my life. Like what happens if I go down this road only to realize that it sucks hard core, and now I have to back track a few miles (or years) just to make it all right. Yes, this is what goes through my head...everyday. It's almost manic.

It's even worse because i have given myself a time line. A year at the bookstore was okay, but another year is just not possible. A year at my aunts has been helpful but a place of my own (where i can cook) is just necessary now. I need to have my stuff together by December. A real job would be nice, a studio would be reasonable and by December I hope to at least have those two things even if by the end of all that i decided to bum it all away for something more extraordinary. I should have been a rockstar. They have the life.

It sucks that all those seemingly easy wants, for now, are so hard to attain. They literally seem out of reach, even though I know 'it' is right there.

Damn.

Anyway, I am going to enjoy my computer today. Maybe a little sims here, Peru story there, and youtube. Not entirely productive, I know, but still...

Infected

I gave my computer a virus. It is a very long (and quite stupid) story that I am too embarrassed to write about right now. Lets just say I tried to watch old episodes of my favorite TV show online. Too bad the site I could upload said show on is a piece of shit. Needless to say, I immediately brought my computer to best buy because I kept getting a "You Are Infected" pop up every 2 minutes.

The dude kept asking me questions like "do you download music" "Do you download movies" "Do you download..." I think he was going to say porn but then figured that is something I wouldn't do. I told him I was trying to watch Tales From the Crypt (seriously. It's lame I know) on some site that I guess wasn't as secure as I thought it was.

He said that I probably got the bug from said site and that he could fix it. For $200!!!!!!! My computer is once again at best buy for the next week. I am beginning to think I am not as good of a computer owner as I thought. So along with forking over $200, I may have to buy software to protect my computer from this happening again, even though I could have sworn I had Norton or something on her.

All in all I will be dishing out at least $250, that's enough money to buy all the seasons of Tales from the Crypt.

You can't see it from your end, but there is a huge frown on my face. Huge!

I'd Like You to Meet Someone

Her name is Celeste, and she is the protagonist of my first real novel. I think.

Back in May I had this insane idea to write a story about a couple in Peru. I was inspired by some pictures on Flickr of this female photographer and her photographer boyfriend who do freelance work all over the world. Their images are amazing, uniquely intimate and bare. Suddenly I struck with an image of Peru and a girl named Celeste and this relationship she has with this "sometimes, not really, all the time" boyfriend. The novel begins immediately with the death of a mutual friend who Celeste and said boyfriend have independently shared a history with. But the day after his death, the two board a plane to Peru, on to another job, wondering whats next, not particularly for them, but just in general.

I told Marie about this and she thought I was crazy. One, I cannot write a story about a place I've never been too. Two, that's not really much of a story. Where's the plot and where's the action. What's the point? And at first I thought she was right. So I shelved the story, I mean I don't want to misrepresent a country because I've never been to it, and I figured I should at least make a trip to said country before I decide to write a story about it.

But for some reason, during the few times I do sit down to write, I always come back to this story, I always return to Celeste and her life. And I can't stop trying to create a history for her in order to direct her and her actions. So though I have omitted any clear Peru references I am writing this story. Or at least trying to.

It's very difficult writing a story. Yesterday I was on Youtube (again) and during a random search I saw a video of some dude who looked just like my hot but very boring creative nonfiction professor. You know, Mr. McDreamyButRatherDull. Of course it wasn't him but because I was now had the memory of him in my head, I typed his name in the search bar and holy mother of crap, 2 seconds later there is actually a video of him giving a lecture on his first novel which was published a couple of weeks ago. Of course I clicked the link and watched with mild interest as my ex-professor read a couple of pages from his novel and then gave an interview about the writing process.

Even though I am not really into his writing, he was the golden boy at our university. He has won numerous awards for poetry and fiction and the last award he won lead to the publication of his novel by my schools publishing house. I couldn't watch the whole interview because he is REALLY boring but apparently he is now teaching at another school where he is getting his PHD.

I couldn't help but feel a tinge of "WTF?!" I feel like I have all the potential to be a writer but I have no idea how to channel that potential. I enjoy writing but I get so lost, and then mad, and then just tired. I still have no idea if I should apply to graduate school even though it is apparent that I need it. Or at least need a workshop or something. I wish I could post the link of his interview on here (he is still very cute but as dry as ever). I might, even though I am protective over where I went to school and live. I know I'm very weird.

Needless to say, as soon as I saw him I wanted to write. And because I am sort of stuck on Celeste, I keep writing this story. I am interested about who she is, why she is, and who she will become. But I feel I (the writer) am getting in the way of her story, I, who am very self conscious about my words am not allowing her to guide me. I don't know how to separate her from myself and for this reason I am struggling to find her voice.

Breathe. Relax. Breathe.

In other news, Marie called me all day Saturday and Sunday. It became very annoying after the 10th call. She finally got a rental car, until they can figure out what to do with hers, but she needed someone to entertain her during her all day wait for enterprise to deliver the rental. During the 8th phone conversation we talked about traveling again. I seriously am getting sick of talking about traveling and then going nowhere. I brought this up again to Marie who of course said she was too busy with her job to travel but that as soon as I got an apartment in New York she would visit me. That doesn't make any sense. Her visiting me in New York is not traveling. That's her coming to where I live, visiting, and then me just showing her the sights I've already seen. So even though she will be able to add Big Apple on her list of places she has been, I will have added nothing. I am determined to travel somewhere. I am starting a fund which currently only has 5 dollars in it, but I am desperate. This makes no sense to me why at 23 I've only been up and down the east coast.

I guess I should save up for a trip to Peru. Would make sense, even though I may have no one to take with me. Damn.

Time to write.

The Cartoonish Life of My Friend

Your eyes are not fooling you. That is a tree on a car. Not any car. Marie's Car. Last night I was slaying zombies on the Wii, and I got a random call from her. Of course I did not answer the phone because killing zombies is a hard job, and I did not want to pause the game right as I was slaughtering those flesh eating bastards. I'm just saying. I know I'm a horrible friend. After I quit the game, I decided to check the message she left me on my phone.

Marie and I are very consistent with our phone conversations. We usually talk to each other around 5 o'clock and when I was in New York around 11pm, because I didn't like walking home alone. I figure that, hopefully, no one will attack someone on the phone. I mean muggers can't be that desperate that they attack someone who could identify them over the phone to however they are talking to. So far, this has worked. I feel safer at night having someone on the phone with me, it's the closest thing I have to mace.

Anyway, getting her call yesterday around 7 was odd, and the fact that she left a message was a little weird. When I checked her message all I could hear was "car.clipped.lady". I immediately called her back because....we'll even though she annoys me, getting in a car accident is not fun. Especially when you don't have anyone near you to make it a little better. So when I called her the first words out of my mouth were "you got hit by a car". Her first words back to me were "no, a fucking tree"

I wish I was making this up. According to Marie she was sitting in her apartment the other day reading a book. It was too stormy outside to do anything and she pretty much spends her time reading books anyway. She could hear the thunder outside and could see the flick of lightening from her window. The next then she heard was a big bang and then the splintering of wood, followed by 'the loudest noise in the world". Of course this was the sound of the tree crashing on her car. At first she didn't think anything of it, until she remembered that her car is parked near a tree, in fact her car is the only car near any tree in that neighborhood.

When she got outside....well you see the picture

Her car is totaled. The tree made a nice little home right on top of it. I thought this only happened in cartoons or during those Allstate commercials. At first I was concerned (because once again car accidents suck!) but then I couldn't stop laughing. Really, who does this happen to. When does a tree strike lightening during a not so major thunderstorm and land perfectly on your car. In front of your house. As you are reading a trashy romance novel about throbbing members.

Her insurance company (Allstate maybe?) covers this sort of thing and for the next few weeks she will be driving a rental until they access the damage. Or until they take two looks at the car and realise it is beyond repair.

Beyond.

She got this car as a college graduation present from her mom. The car is about 5 years old, cause I remember her mom let us take this baby to prom. We both did not have dates the night, because I was too afraid to ask anyone and we were certain no one was going to either one of us. No one expected her to go anyway, and because of this she went. I decided to be her 'friend date' because what else did I have to do. We got all dolled for this thing, only to both look like mafia princesses that Saturday. This was before I knew black does not look good on me (at all!) and before she knew bouffants are not attractive. On anyone. We got there extremely early. That kind of early when only the chaperone's were there. My history teacher was the first one to see us and I couldn't tell if he was shocked that we showed up at all or that we looked like girls from a mobster movie.

We stayed for about 15 minutes. Which was enough time to see our 'friends' from the media club and drink some weird beverage that was green. Afterwards we drove around town, got burritos from a place 45 minutes outside of our city, and then went to Walmart because she ended up staying the night at my house but we she didn't have any pj's to wear.


That was pretty much our life in high school, attending events we felt isolated from, and then escaping from them to hang out with each other. Thinking on it now, I think the tree did her a favor. We are so different from those girls laying out in my living room watching a rerun of Medium while the cats kept us company. That car was/is the last physical thing from her (and my) high school years, and now it is weighed down to the ground by a tree in her front yard. Now if only that tree could destroy the pictures we have of that night. They are horrible, trust me.

A Little Bit of GQ

How could I forget the 15th of July (or of any 15th of the month for that matter of fact)? The 15th is usually when a new issue of GQ comes out. Needless to say, my vacation is distorting time and days and I was very shocked to see the new issue out (with Channing Tatum on the cover, but for the sake of this journal I decided against a shirtless picture of him) while I was at the supermarket. All is right with the world now. All is right.

The free wireless has come back and for now I am using it until the cable guy comes tomorrow to install ours. I know I have only 3 weeks left but I've been without the Internet for so long that I would rather continue to still someones wifi then wait an extra day. I am very addicted to this thing. Though I have the Internet for a while, I am pretty much going to spend the rest of the night reading my GQ magazine. I do this every month and find solace in the arms of fashion and entertainment layouts.

It's going to be very weird going back to New York because if all works out I will be able to actively look for an "adult" job by November. Marie holds the fact that I do not have, what she calls, an "adult job" this against me. Every time we are on the phone she manages to throw in a snide remark about my job situation. Sometimes she is downright rude about it. She has rubbed it in my face several times that she makes more money than I do and that while I flounder around at my "high school age" job she has a real one, where she makes a salary instead of a hourly wage. I know, I don't know why I am still friends with her.

I don't take it to heart, because...it's Marie, and a phone conversation without some conversation like that would be unusual. I do love my job at the bookstore, but I don't (and can't) work there forever. In all honesty I don't even know if book publishing is my thing, but I at least need some entry level job for the experience if not the longevity.

I go back and forth about what I want to do. Sometimes I want to be in production other times I want to work in Magazine. And sometimes I want to be a freelance writer with a photo journalist boyfriend who I can travel the world with documenting what we see together on our magical adventure. He can be the eyes while I am the words for the stories we decide to tell. But for now that is a secret passion of mine that is hidden by the reality of my life.

Though this vacation was suppose to be my own personal writing seminar of sorts, I have yet to do anything that resembles writing. I don't know what it is. I need guidance and focus and because I lack those two things I just stare at a blank screen for half the day or worse I don't stare at all. I busy myself with movies and books and then before you know it is 11pm and I am watching another episode of Curb Your Enthusiasm. It's a pretty sad state because I really want to pursue a writing career but that sort of requires writing and for some reason my head can't get around it. I don't know what I am doing with myself and it is driving me crazy.

On the reading level I have made a dent in Rules of Attraction by Bret Ellis, and though it is not my favorite novel by him, I do like it. My college experience did not resembled his version at all, but you know...I guess it does somewhere. I am also reading this book called Rebecca. It's really old school but the plot sounded dramatic enough to stir my interest. I am hoping that by reading all of these books I will be able to recognize the style of writing that I am drawn too and then be able to write. So far, not so good. I just end of comparing myself to said writer and wondering why I can't pen a novel at 23 like Bret Easton Ellis did (at 21, I think).

I'm starting to feel washed up, even before I made a literary dent somewhere. Must get myself out of this rut. Must get myself out of this rut. Must.

Connection Problems

I use wireless at home. Not my own wireless of course because I am the only one in the house with a computer. The desktop barely works, and my mom really has no use for a computer. Not now anyway.

When I use to come home from college I would just connect to the available wireless listed on my preferred network list. It didn't (and doesn't) matter whose it was as long as I had access to it. But on Friday I woke up with the intention of checking my mail like I always do but this time there were no open networks. Not even the one I have always used. Bummer. We are now getting wireless installed in the house but I have to wait until Friday to get it. Until then I am stuck using Dial-Up. There was a time when waiting 5 minutes for a page to load was normal, now it's just wrong. So very wrong.

My vacation is winding down. I like being home but I am ready to get back to my life. Here there is a false sense of security because I am home all day with my motherly mother and my flawed but entertaining brother. I don't have to worry about anything because it is all provided for me. But I really want a job, a job job, not a fun bookstore job. If the editor still wants me, I have an internship in a few weeks with an actual big league publishing house. It's only for 3 months but I know after that i can actively look for a job in publishing (or production) without my inexperience getting in the way.

My aunt has agreed to let me stay with her for a few more months. So this means that I will be juggling my bookstore job with an internship. If I'm lucky I'll get one day off a week. Fun times, I know. But this is what I want. It took me so long just to get here, so I feel like I am on the right path. I just have to remain on it, you know. So i will be booking another ticket to return to New York in a few weeks. I still fear that when I get there everything will have changed while I was gone for 6 weeks, and that I have to start over again. But that is just me being paranoid.

Dial-Up is driving me crazy. I was doing so well, until this crap happened. I want to write all about Marie's visit and the luncheon we didn't go on with our old librarian. But I'll have to wait.

Until Then,

Becks

Seeking You Out...

...when the time is right.

I have a love/hate relationship with facebook. On one end I like having access to people's lives that I am currently friends with. I don't mind knowing that Kathleen ( this cool chick from work) can't wait to see Jennifer's Body by Diablo Cody or that Angie is enjoying DC. I don't mind seeing the results of my friends stupid quizzes, or that today they are feeling shitty/happy/angry and yadda.

I mean in a sense I already know these things about them. But sometimes you get a nice bit of tidbit that surprises you or reiterates why you like them so much. Not saying that you can't have a solid healthy friendship without knowing that Josh stayed about late drinking or that Ana has a psych test today, but it's an added bonus.

The problem with facebook though is that you now have access to people you would never have access to in the past. Remember that kid you use to play with who lived around the corner or that drama teacher you had a crush on in middle school. There was once a time where you could go "I wonder what happened to this person" and then brush the thought aside. And even if the nagging curiosity got to you, you could ask your parents or the friends you have kept in touch with if they know what happened to this person.

Now, it's completely different. All you need is a name or good research skills and you can find out what happened to your crush from the 3rd grade. It's amazing. And I must admit I am guilty (during my more infrequent nostalgia days) of going through a year book and seeking these people out on facebook. Not even to read their profiles, but just to get some glimpse of who they are in some attempt to get some insight into their lives.

But it has always stopped there. I have rarely pressed the 'add as friend' button (though it's tempting). I talk about my past a lot but there is something about befriending someone who I don't really know anymore. I mean I could be over thinking this. But in all honesty if I'm seeking out Diane from around the corner ( a person i once knew) it's not really because I want to know what she is doing now and want to grab drinks with her. I mean a part of it is, but I think the real reason is because I want to connect to that part of my life that no longer exists.

Now this does not mean that I won't accept a request from a person I once knew. For some reason Graduation has spurred a lot of requests from people in my past. Two of my best friends from childhood contacted me late last year and I was thrilled to reconnect. Of course it went no further then emails and comments on pictures but I was okay with that. I would soon find out that one contacted me because his mother had just died and he needed to be reminded of times when she was alive (which included memories of me and orchestra class) and the other had to leave school early (financial reasons) and she wanted an old friend to talk to. So now you know why I don't take these requests seriously.

So waking up early today in order to get some writing done (blogging counts) I was a little apprehensive when I saw a friends request from a kid I knew way back when. His name is David and we went to elementary and middle school together. He was actually a really good friend at the time. I went to all of his birthday parties, and ate lunch with him regularly. He was a drama nerd and I was a 'serious' screenwriter back then, so we were a creative match. The apprehension did not come from the out of the blue request. It came from the fact that this is not the first encounter I have had with this kid. But the first time I was the one seeking him out.

When I had to leave my first college because of financial aid reasons I was the most miserable I have ever been. This is no exaggeration. I was what some would consider a 'hot mess'. At the time I felt as if I were this big failure and this was probably my first real encounter with depression. Needless to say I was on the 'google your friends online' bandwagon before it got popular. At the time facebook was exclusive, and I don't believe myspace existed (or it wasn't as known as it is now) so I just googled names . The only person who I could find was David simply because he was taking this acting thing seriously and had a website set up with his Resume. On the website was an email address and being the idiot that I am I emailed him. To this day, I regret that.

I got an email a few days later. And after debating whether I should open it or not, I found the courage to read the damn thing. And luckily because I didn't lie when I said I document everything I have the email for you. I wrote it down (word for word) in my journal because the content was heartbreaking:

Hi there...this seems to be the summer for blast from the past, as I recently got in touch with a high school friend whom I haven't seen in two years, but you've definitely beat her out...Mrs.Bruno's class in the 5th grade....WOW!

The letter starts out great. But it goes downhill from there

I'm trying really hard, and I'm not sure if I remember you or not. I'm terribly sorry, but I have a bad memory for names, and unfortunately your isn't triggering my memory. If you have a picture you could send that might help jostle my memory, though (as you've seen pictures of the current 'me' on my website) we have each probably changed a good deal since 7th grade.

Good luck with the pre-med! I know I could never do that....but screenwriting is something I've definitely tried my hand at! I hope you have fun and succeed with everything!

I certainly did not expect to find this in my inbox when I logged on. Hopefully we'll find some way to bring back the memories...Oh, god, seven years ago back. Thanks for getting in touch!Ciao!

The end. When I got this letter five years ago I was pissed. Not so much because he didn't remember who I was but because I had spent all of my time remembering who he was. Remembering who all of them were. In my mind they had never stopped being my friend. In my mind we were just divided by distance, nothing more or less. And in a way, his letter was a slap in my face from my own hand for hanging on to something and some people who were no longer mine in the present tense. They were mine and they remain mine only in memories where we never grew up.

So this friend request was weird. I don't know if he befriended me because he has an idea of the girl he knew in the 5th grade or because he remembers the girl who wrote him five years ago. In any case, I am brushing this aside as another reminder of the times. That we have become so accessible to people we once knew but who we don't really know anymore. Sure I checked out his pictures and read some of his wall comments but this kid is a stranger to me now, as I am one to him.

F*cking facebook. Anyway, I am suppose to be writing stories but I can't stop reading books. I am preparing myself for my internship in August by reading a crapload of romance books. I use to love these things but now they seem like frivolous excursions to places where members are always throbbing and bosoms are always rising and falling. I just finished a book where a woman has fallen in love with a werewolf. She is treating him (yeah, she's a doctor) because he's an alcoholic who has blackouts. The blackouts turn out to be connected to his claim that he is a werewolf. Of course they fall in love yadda yadda yadda. I've never read a book about a werewolf, so all I could think about was whether she was going to have sex with the wolf or the man (turns out having sex with a beast is illegal). I am not much of a feminist but this books (targeted towards women) are fun to read but questionable. But that's a whole post in and of itself. I have put those books aside to read The Rules of Attraction by Bret Easton Ellis. I love this guy. I have read The Informers, Less Than Zero, and American Psycho. I think his dialogue is to die for.

~Beck

Going to the D of the C.

When Angie got her job in Washington DC, we made plans almost immediately for me to come and visit her as soon as she settled into her job and new settings.

I can't reiterate how hard living in New York is. It's when you have money but if you don't it's literally a place you work your ass off in only to survive on the basic needs. She was laid off from her job in November and quickly got work at the bookstore. But she still lived in an apartment whose rent alone was $1400. So by May she had no choice but to pack up and leave.

At the time we didn't think about becoming roommates. That would have solved a lot of our problems (her rent problem and my aunt problem). We only thought of this afterwards when I began my slight apartment search before I came home. Nevertheless she has been in the DC area for about 6 weeks and I am sort of ready to see her.

The way DC works (i guess) is that it is so close to Maryland you can pretty much commute without much trouble. She lives right on the border which gives her access to the metro area and to her apartment somewhere in Maryland where young professionals live. Whatever that means. She says there are plenty of bars and coffee shops (which also sell books) that we can go to and plus we can do some touristy stuff in DC.

My first and only trip to Maryland was when I was in the 6th grade. It was a two day excursion from New York to the what we thought was the country. Because most of us had never been anywhere outside of Westchester, everything north, south, east or west of our area constituted to the country, by proxy. Early on in the year our school mandated where each floor (because for some reasons each floor (considered a 'house') held a certain number of 6th graders divided up at the beginning of the year by academic standing. It was weird) of our 3 story school would go for the end of the year trip. I say we got lucky (house 1) with Baltimore because we were the only house to have a overnight trip.

My memory of the trip is limited. I remember going to cardinals (?) game and cheering for the Yankees who weren't even playing. I remember hanging out with my bunk makes at the mall as we pretended to be adults because for 30 minutes we were left unchaperoned by the teachers at this huge mall overlooking the ocean. The mall was located on a pier and at the time this was the most amazing sight we had ever seen. I remember going to a Imax theater where we watched a movie about Everest. We then went to a slave museum that resembled a haunted house only because of the displays of people shackled and wax figures missing limbs. We headed to a hands on activity museum where I hung out with one of my many crushes back then.

At night we called random rooms looking for our friends. The teachers came to each room and wished us goodnight. The chaperons for our house were my English and math teacher. My English teacher was a British lady who liked to straighten my collar a lot, and she let me take books home from class. My math teacher was actually a substitute who took over for the math teacher who was on maternity leave. His name was Mr. Stumpo and he was 26. We all thought he was the hottest thing in the whole entire world except that he had a temper. When we weren't paying attention in class he would bang his fist against the board and give a 10 minute lecture on respect. Sometimes we could hear him (with us other class) two rooms away and Ms. Gardner (the perfect name for a British English teacher) would wait until he finished ranting to continue her lessons.

Anyway, when they came to our doors to wish us goodnight they gave his snacks from the vending machine. As the door closed I accidentally said 'bye dad'. For the rest of the year he was really nice to me and gave my butter cookies for being a good kid.

I imagine my trip to Maryland and DC will be a little different this time around. I am not twelve anymore, for one thing and there will be no malls or piers in my future. I was suppose to go on my first adult trip this Friday (sans mom), but the computer thing was stressing me out and I had no plans of booking it to DC without my computer in working condition (and plus I need to save all the money I have). Angie was a little disappointed but I figure I can see her on the weekend once I am back in the New York area. It will cost a lot less to get there from New York then where I live now.

Instead this Friday Marie had the 'brilliant' idea to get in touch with our old librarian. We were in the Media club in high school ( told you I was a nerd) and worked with her for four years. She let us eat in the library and she got us out of drivers ed. Marie and I are the only people from the media club to have not seen her since graduation which is sort of bad because we were the closest to her.

Last week Marie and I got in contact with her, and agreed to have brunch with her sometime in the future. We are feeling a little apprehensive about this because when we knew her we were angry antsy awkward teenagers and now we are just awkward adults. We both talked to her on the phone a week ago and we didn't know what to say to her. Marie kept telling her about my life and I kept telling her about Marie's life. Together we are hoping that we will make one cohesive put together adult because separately we both failed in that department.

Anyway, I should get some writing done. I have sort of a block that has nothing to do with lack of ideas but anxiety over whether my words matter. Damn.

Changes

I could sense the cobwebs growing on this things. I know I have not been the best blogger this last year but I am working on it...one blog post at a time.

I've been home for a little under 3 weeks and the sense of cabin fever is growing on me. Without a car, friends, or even a computer for the last couple of days, I have been trapped inside my house for at least 23 hours a day. This has reminded me of my sense of isolation here, my sense of not belonging and thus longing to be any place else.

I mean the home life is amazing. My mom is glad to have her daughter back home, my brother is glad to have my things to use for the next few weeks, and I am glad for being fed on a regular basis (a luxury I did not have at my aunts). Of course I am happy to be home too. I understand that I may have rushed the whole leaving home thing. I mean days after graduation I was on a train to New York with grandiose assumptions that didn't pan out exactly the way I planned.

But in essence nothing was really planned. I just sort of ran away from home, leaving everything as it was without even trying to tidy up my space here. And it was easy to run away, under the pretense of starting this new life somewhere else. Under the pretense that it had nothing to do with my sense of dread here. So coming back has been a little weird. As if I have stepped into this house that resembles my home except it misses the things that gave it character and heart. And in some way I think that is why my mom needed me here, even if it is only for a little while. She just needed this place to feel like it once did before everything sort of changed.

Speaking of changes, in a couple of days I will have been blogging for four years. This seems insane to me that four years ago I was 19 years old and just starting out on this thing. I still refer to this as my journal because for some reason calling it blog doesn't really fit what I've been writing for the past few years. I think blogs have an agenda and for me I've only wanted to just have a space I could write on. In the age of technology it was just easier to write online than in a notepad.

Four years is a long time. In a way I feel like the same person yet completely different. It's a weird adjustment phase for me because I am on the cusp of whatever adulthood is and instead of having some great epiphany about myself I am struck by the similarities of the girl I am and was.

Case in point: Before leaving New York I decided to concentrate on writing some creative nonfiction. Ever since graduating from college Marie and I have been talking on the phone or texting at least once a day. To date she is the person I have been friends with the longest. I mean we met on the first day of 7th grade and it's been great heartache from then. We are the best of friends and the worst of friends. This last year we have relied on each other for moral support. I have a social while she has a career. She harps about how lonely she is while I complain about struggling to find a job and a sense of direction. We both tell each other it will be okay. That we will be okay before she manages to annoy me on the phone and before I annoy her with my sensitivity. We hang up pissed at each other and then start the whole thing the next day. It works

Anyway, I talk to Marie about writing because I am trying to share my creative ideas with people I trust. I can't be a writer who doesn't talk about her writing because where will that get me. Marie is not the biggest help in the world, but she listens and she does pull me back when my ideas are a little far fetched (like trying to write a story about Peru when I've never been. I am still working on that one). Because we talk about our past a lot, it seemed only fitting that I do some creative nonfiction. I mean I was reading a lot of memoirs and collection of stories by such authors and it seems easy to do. I mean I write about my life almost daily (weekly? okay monthly) and I don't have to much problem doing that. Marie thought it was a good idea and she suggested that I go over some of my journals from the ages I wanted to write about.

This sounded like a good idea, until I got home and started reading the journals I'd written from 7th grade onward. I was an angry little bugger. I could smell the teenage angst on the pages and it brought me back to a place I never want to revisit. It was frightening because I am not an angry person. But I had boiled everything in to a point where I exploded on paper. I mean it's my handwriting, and my thoughts but not entirely the person I am today. Which is a good thing. The point is, it's great to have this stuff written down. I mean I have written in a journal since I was in the sixth grade (which I still have) and it's nice to look back and recognize the parts of myself that have made me who I am today. Or more importantly see how different I am.

There are changes about me, and like I have written so many times before, I have yet to figure out if these changes are good or bad. But for now, it feels right. I think.

Anyway,

I have to do some major remodeling with this journal. Most of my links are now expired. They've been up since the beginning and it feels only fitting to get rid of the ones that no longer work. So the links will be under construction while I add and delete things. It's about time anyway.

Back In Business

I have my computer back!! If you could only see the smile on my face. I think it could illuminate a very darkened room. Of course I have been surfing the net the last couple of hours instead of anything real productive. What? Sue me. Four weeks without access to a computer has been hell. Okay, only the last week was hell but I'm just saying.

Thank you Geek Squad. How I love thee after cursing thee out the last two weeks.

Regular posting after the holiday weekend. It's a little weird this year trying to celebrate thought tomorrow will mark one year since...you know. We are trying to make the best of it though.

Happy 4th!