The Smoothest Way is Sometimes Full of Stones

I am reading the most beautiful collection of short stories ever by Julie Orringer called How to Breathe Underwater. I have never read anything that has so captured the essence of being a girl in all of it's pain and discomfort. I have never read anything that has so lyrically captured what it's like to be a girl on the edge of adulthood, love, disappointment, sexuality, and independence.

I have had the book for about a week, untouched and laying on the floor. I mainly picked up it because the cover is a beautiful photograph which reminded me of some time from my youth that I never really had. A time when I felt like things were endless and I was free and uninhibited. Needless to say there is a reason why I checked this book out of the library, I have spent the last nights reading it in the dark, with my book light on and slight nods as every sentiment I have ever felt appears in the collection.

This week been incredibly hard. I still hate my internship in Connecticut. The lady is still bat shit crazy and I dread when she comes into the office with some half thought out thing for Bethany or I to do. I am also still incredibly broke. I mean I have money in my account but not the nice cushion of spending money I am use to. It doesn't help that the cable is out at my aunt's house (because she didn't and probably won't pay it) so I have been buying TV DVD's in order to have something to watch.

I have not and probably will not hear back from the Nonion. I have no one to blame but myself. I was incredibly awkward during the interview and my awesomeness may not have come off as much as I wanted to. At first I wanted to curse out the Maxwell fellow, for not being able to see the wicked awesome intern under the girl full of nerves. But then I figured he is only doing his job. Then I wanted to curse out god, because I spent the whole week praying to him and for what...but that seemed pointless.

Instead I spent a few days cursing myself out and sulking. I am very good at this sulking thing. I feel like I am in the same place I was in last year except t now I have the internship I so desperately fought for and no longer desire. I am still at the bookstore, I am still at my aunt's house (where I don't even have a bed anymore, just a couch) and I am still very very broke. Though I did buy Season One of Curb Your Enthusiasm. I may be broke but I will always have Larry David.

I cannot stop comparing myself to other people my age. Do you know I went to high school with one of the girls from this seasons Project Runway. Yeah, Carol Hannah. Of course I began hating on her immediately. Why the f*ck am I not on Project Runway (I know i don't design clothing but this is irrational jealous me talking), why am I not pursuing my passion hardcore, why isn't Tim Gunn here to console me. Why do I feel like I am getting nowhere, and quick. Why is the girl from my history class (who moved up here, and whose dumb fun pictures on facebook keep popping up on my home page) living the life I want. With her real people job and her real people friends while I can only claim my sullenness as a past time.

And of course after all that sulking and crying silently to myself, I have to go back and continue to exist and hope that things will get better. That it has to right? I'm hoping that this week is a lot better, I have some more stuff to apply to and sleep to be had. Of course before I close my eyes I will flip through another story in Orringers book and remember how difficult it is just to be, and exist, and prosper when your are just on the brink of some truth larger than yourself.