Why Not To Sign Release Papers.

Um...Yeah.

So about two months ago I was running errands on my day off. I really love running errands and I wish I was being sarcastic. But I'm not. I love grocery shopping, trips to the library, browsing stores...you get the picture. I like having nothing to do, except the small things that keep me going.

Which is why the library is my favorite place in the whole entire world. Free Books. Free Dvd's. Free Cd's. Sure you can only have them for a limited amount of time but still....Freebies. And this library is amazing. Three floors, a stellar computer area (sans the porn watching fellows) and their dvd rental is like being in a video store. You can find new releases if you look hard enough, and some days you can find movies that I didn't even know where on DVD.

I spend a huge chunk of my time at the library. I love their collection and I love coming home with a handful of stuff. So on that day, two months ago, when I stopped at the library after buying some clothes from the mall and food, I was eager to pick out a few books and dvd's for myself.

But in an attempt to draw more patrons to the library, they were doing this campaign of sort to take pictures of normal people taking advantage of the services provided by the library. Their pictures would appear in the bi-monthly newsletter. I did not know this then. I was simply picking out a crapload of book when I noticed a professional photographer snapping pictures of people. I didn't really think he would take a pic of me. But then as I was standing in some aisle contemplating what books, out of the ten that I had pulled, I would bring home I saw Mr. Camera Man from the corner of my eye. I knew that he wanted to take a picture of me, but because I spotted him I started to smile because I knew the picture was ruined. He snapped at me anyway and then asked if I wouldn't mind taking some pictures in front of the Teen area because I look like I am in high school.

What was I suppose to say? No. I don't feel comfortable having my picture taken. Sorry, but I 'd rather not. Hey, I don't look like a teenager. But I just said yes, because I love the library. I mean love the place, and hey a few pictures here and there can't hurt. They probably wont even use it. So he snapped some pics of me looking very pensive and annoyed. awkward and strained in front of the teen books. I don't even think I smiled, it was more of a 'is this over yet' smirk. He thanked me for my patience and then the librarian who was escorting him around asked if I would sign some release papers, so that they could use the pictures if necessary. I did, because honestly I didn't think they would use them.

But two days ago, I was making the rounds at my favorite day off places and I stopped at the library to pick up some books. As I was walking to the entrance I noticed that the windows of the library now featured various poster like promos from that photo op day. Posters featuring people in the library doing patron like things. One guy was reading the newspaper, another lady was standing at the circulation desk talking to the librarian, and then another young lady with a striking resemblance to me, is standing in front of the teen aisle smirking...wait a minute...is that my motherfucking face!

Yes. It. Is. I'm not only featured in some newsletter like I was told. Instead my face, along with others, is plastered on the ground floor, wall length windows! And of course, for some reason, my photo is placed near the entrance of the library.... for everyone to see. I am holding ten books, listening to my ipod, carrying a Charlotte Rouse bag and looking like a teenager. What the hell?!?!?

I had to do a double take. Then a triple take. Then I called my mom, but she didn't answer. Then I called Marie but she didn't answer. Then I tried to cover the picture with my hand but it's pasted on the inside of the window.

Mortified is the only word I have.

So yeah, don't sign release papers unless you want to be on some poster for the library. I don't know how long that crap picture is going to be up, but I hope they take it down soon. Because last night I was stopped by a customer who saw my picture and who wanted to give me the thumbs up 'for my 15 minutes of fame'. I'm good, I don't want any 15 minutes of anything. I prefer fading in the background most days.

April Showers!

And it was so sunny last week?

Today I woke up to rain. Lots of it. Of course, I love-love-love the rain and didn't mind being trapped inside the house all day.

Actually I preferred it. I had some tentative plans with people at work today but there is something about cloudy skies and rain drops that do it for me. I didn't want to do anything outside of staring at it all day.

So I cancelled those plans. And then I read some books, listened to music and wrote. If there was a part time job like that (because I couldn't do that everyday, it would take the pleasure out of it) I would apply in a heart beat.

Lately I am trying to catch up on reading more books. When I first moved to South Carolina I had absolutely no friends. Most of my junior high and high school years were spent talking to people at school but not really having a social life.

Because of this I spent most of my weekends a) watching lifetime movies with my mom in the living room or b) reading until I couldn't read anymore. I could start and finish books in the same day. I even had a special spot in my house. Right in front of the window in my room laying on my stomach. It was amazing!

However once I graduated high school, reading went from being a hobby to something I was required to do. So I stopped reading for fun. I mean I will find a book every once in awhile that I have to finish (Columbine by Dave Cullen, Informers by Bret Easton Ellis) but for the most part I can spend hours in the library, check out a handful of books and finish none of them. Yeah. It's pretty bad.

Recently I got an advance copy of Bret Easton Ellis' new novel. I don't know how much I am allowed to say about it. If anything at all. But whatever, it's just my opinion after all. His new novel takes place 20 years after the events in Less Than Zero. I can see what he is attempting to do. Revisit old characters whose habits remain the same. But it pains me how cliche it all seems to be now. Where generational references created an atmosphere in Less Than Zero (that in all honesty I spend time trying to master in my own writing) it seems super forced in this new novel. Like when he mentioned watching the The Hills and using an IPhone, I cringed. Cringed! I fear that in the last half of the book I will see some sentence where he references Facebook. Then I'll have to throw the damn book out the window.

All day I tried to read it. All day I wanted to finish it. But I am only half way through and I know finishing this novel entail Will. Will I tell you. It's not that it's bad, but there are moments when I am reading and I think 'really, was the mention of an Iphone necessary!, you could have just said I picked up the phone' When I couldn't force my eyes to read anymore, I watched another episode of Dr. Who and checked out plane ticket prices to England (almost a grand, there must be another way).

I have absolutely no hours this weekend (3 days, all closing shifts spaced out so far that I barely see cause to be there) but I don't mind. Outside of the money thing, I like having a break from that place. I am really in a funk about new york, work, and my life right now. My need for escape is reaching an all time high and I hate feeling stumped. About what to do next, about which turn to take, about how strong I need to be. And of course I am feeling all sorts of stumped lately. But for some reason the rains alleviates that feeling for a while. Only for a little while. but long enough for me to re-group and continue.

With Love and Squalor

Dear Doctor Who,

You have no idea who I am but name is Beckett Amelia Hughes and I was wondering if I could runaway with you. Life, has been less than stellar these last two years. I mean outside of my random moments of excitement I am beginning to fall out of love with life again. Not in a way that would ever be harmful to myself, but that in a way affects the spirit some days.

But then I ran across you, the doctor, and your promises of adventure via the BBC. And you know what, I trusted you immediately which I don't have a tendency of doing, especially towards men who wear bow ties. I mean hell, I don't even know much about you. You regenerate every few years. You are a Time Lord who travels space, and for some reason you have this running joke about your TARDIS being bigger on the inside.

Despite those apprehension I marvel at your adventures and the things you have seen. The good, the bad, and the ugly. I was hoping, maybe, that you would consider me as a future companion. I do like my travels, and though sometime adventure scares me I never back down from a good one.

Whenever you tire of Amy Pond, or she decides to end her travels with you, I am ready to take her place, in space. I know that I will see all sorts of things including 'ghost from the past. aliens from the future. and the day the Earth died in a ball of flame'. But I am ready, and willing, because I know it will be a trip of a lifetime.

Sincerely,

Becks

Imperial Bedrooms

Guess who got an advance reader copy of Bret Easton Ellis new book. Hint: It's me!

Seriously, this is the only perk of working at the bookstore (outside of the discount, but in all honesty I don't buy too books anymore. The library has become my friend). And I am ready to finish this thing, it's so good and classic Ellis.

I began my morning at 6:30, so that I could get ready for another hair day with a friend from work. We like our hair days. Of course we wanted to get to the hairdresser before a crowd formed and by 10 o'clock we were camped out in the salon patiently awaiting Nicole who just may be the best damn hair stylist ever!

Afterwards, I had to make my way back to the bookstore to say goodbye to my friend whose last day at work is well...today. It wasn't easy, I hate saying goodbye. I don't know why we have to do them. But I liked this guy a lot. He was one of the first people I actually befriended at work. His leaving hurts worse than anyone else's departure. I know soon, that the dynamic at work will change drastically. May is fast approaching, which means a bunch of people will be graduating and heading home. The few that will remain don't plan on going anywhere anytime soon. And then you have me, stuck in the crossroad.

A fresh crop of 'newly graduated from college' ' I won't be here long' kids will replace old faces, and this depresses me. And now motherfucking Ry (my nickname for him) is leaving. I can't stomach it. So I said my goodbye to him in the break room and then he gave me a bear hug and promised that he would come and visit.

As I was leaving I saw an advance reader copy of Imperial Bedrooms (Bret. Easton.Ellis!!!!) and I immediately grabbed it for my reading pleasure. This time last year, I had finally forced myself to read Less Than Zero and I love it. I then proceeded to read The Informers (my favorite novel by him so far) and Rules of Attraction. Some people get him, some people don't...but for reason, unknown to even me, he has become one of my favorite authors to read.

Anyway, now I'm home. I have to go to work from 10-6 tomorrow and I can almost bet my favorite manager will be there for all of her passive aggressive managerial skills. I need to get out of this place. I applied to a job yesterday that I of course have hopes for but cannot get to excited about until I hear something back.

I'm just ready for things to be different already. As everyone moves on and progresses, I continue to feel left behind and incomplete. I hate that feeling and I don't know how to make it any better.

Now time for some Imperial Bedrooms, where my life can never get as bad as the drug addicted, self indulgent teens growing up to be drug addicted, self indulgent adults. Now that's my type of novel.

Dinos' in the Morning!

More Dino Pics!

Obviously I wont be able to load all 100 pictures (it was a long day) but here are some of my favorites.

I wanted to get to the museum before the crowd, but I forgot that NYC everyday is a busy place. There were a lot of school children, and parents, and frightened kids there but it wasn't that bad. Because I am writing a story about a field trip though, I could not help but turn my attention to the awe struck school kids.

Outside of the yelling, and occasionally fighting they were delightful little beings. I mean seeing a kid stare into the 'face' of TRex and then roar, priceless! And they still use the damn buddy system, which amazed and pleased me because hand holding is a huge part of my story. Huge! And these kids were glued to their buddy whether they wanted to be or not.

But back to the dinos:

I can't decided which dinosaur I liked the best. I mean they were all flipping amazing. I of course gravitated towards the Triceratops because I have a toy one in my room. I know it's childish but I found it at work 2 months ago and he (george, because I name everything george) has been my bedside companion since. There is something so definitively strong and protective about Mr. Triceratops, and I made an attempt to run into him first.

But I was struck by how many dinos on display that I never could have imagined in my whole entire world. Like this mofo here:

Is he a deer? A hybrid winged animal? I do not know. Okay, I do kind of know thanks to some footnotes I made. He's a Megalocerous, the largest deer from the prehistoric era. Damn right he's the largest deer. I would not want to run into him on the road. But I do wonder what he would have looked like back in the day. All fleshed out and stuff. I was standing next to a guy who had the same puzzled look on my face, and we both parted soon after to digest the sight.

The stegosaurus was another gem. The curvature in it's back is amazeballs, and look at those spikes! I mean come on.

There were too many dinos to look at, and I spent 90 minutes checking out each display. I was drawn to the smaller dinosaurs, the ones that exclusively stayed in herds for protection, and was intrigued by them. My friend mentioned Deinoychus, which are smaller dinosaurs defined by their hunting skills, and I eventually found them in some corner. Compared to the bigger bones, these guys were tiny but deadly. I loved them

And then there was this fellow:

the awkward turtle. He was floating in the sky and I wanted to rub his belly.

Now that I've been to the museum I have to start working on this story. It's my whole reason for going. The whole time I was there, I took notes in my composition notebook in order to remember feelings, sights, and other sense related things to be conscious of. I have a tentative name for the story, In Our Genes, based on a display in the Hall of Human Origins.

The story really has more to do with that hall then the dinosaurs (pics to come soon!) but regardless the trip was necessary for inspiration. Mission Accomplished.

Now time to write, and do some research on film workshops. I am tempted to look at ones in the UK despite the financial worries. But a part of me is saying "fuck worries, do something extraordinary and scary. do it. do it'.

Do You Wanna Come With Me?

I'm beginning to feel that ever present lump in my throat. The lump urging me to do something more with my life: travel, love, learn, explore...adventure!

I had a brilliant day yesterday. Seeing dinosaurs was awesome and relaxing, a lot more relaxing than one would think standing in front of a Tyrannosaurus. The truth is, I needed a break from my normal routine. I almost didn't go yesterday. I woke up and tried to talk myself out of it. But before I could go back to sleep and wake up at some awful hour (noon some days) I remembered that I never have days to myself. When I'm not worrying about loans, and the endless job search I am at work or worse napping the day away.

I just needed a day where I didn't have to think of anything except dinosaurs and hominids named Lucy. I needed a day to myself where I got to snap pictures and take notes in my notebook. I needed a day where I wasn't myself, where I could step outside of the worries and breathed.

But that was yesterday and of course, today I am back to normal. I woke up, braced myself for job searches and futile naps. I am beyond restless in New York. When I was in the city, I had a sense of freedom. I thought 'hey, this is what I came here for'. But rarely am I able to make my way to the city, even when I want to.

I want to run away from it all, and as a person prone to escapism it's looking like a mighty good plan. But in all honesty I am at a fork. I don't really know what to do with myself or more importantly where to go. I have plans that are definite of course (writing, finding a workshop) but everything else is up in the air. I feel like I have taken some plunge into a very deep whole, but I have not hit the bottom yet. I am floating (perhaps like Alice) wondering where I will end up and how long it will take me to get there.

And this feeling is scary, because I am a very impulsive person or at least I want to be. I vacillate between staying here for a little longer. Doing the job search until I can't come up with new ways to describe my awesomeness. I then think about going back to school. Hell, I don't know how I'd pay for it but I could get the training in production I need while also being able to write. Being in school again would be great outside of taking out more loans and of course paying them back.

And then, a big then, I think about going away for a while. For crossing the pond and exploring some options there. A workshop maybe, a graduate program. Who knows.

Everyone has been telling me to watch Dr. Who for the longest time. I'm not really into sci-fi but I'm all down for watching new thing. In regards to sci-fi though my mind tends to resist aliens, dimensions and dare I say the laws of time and space. But on Saturday a new Dr.Who premiered with, of course, a new doctor. I was worried that because I had not previously seen the ninth or tenth one that I wouldn't understand what the hell was going on.

And for the most part I didn't. The British talk really fast and I'm still a little confused by his mode of transportation (a police booth called a TARDIS) but the moment the eleventh incarnation of the doctor appeared on tv, I was hooked for some odd reason. I mean, this tall gangly British guy lands in some garden only to meet a girl (age 7) who will later become his companion (when she is 21) on his amazing adventures.

The companion thing is what really gets me. It's get lonely out there in space, and the Doctor (because he can) chooses people to be his companion throughout the series. For the most part the 'companions' are women who play humanize the doctor and his adventures. And the story line for this new doctor and his new companion (Amanda pond) was brilliant. It is her garden which he first appears. She is 7 years old when she first meets him and is amazed by the figure who appears out of nowhere, and changes her life.

But he leaves her unexpectedly. For '5 minutes' he promises, only to return 14 years later when she is 21. Time travel and space are tricky. But she has waited for him since she was a little girl, and despite anger towards him for not returning in 5 minutes, his return is her beginning to an a adventure of a lifetime.

And I must admit that part got to me. I was sitting there, glued to the tv until the last 5 minutes of the show, where he finally asks the very adult (well 21) and attractive Amanda Pond to come along with him. On the adventure of a lifetime! And she does, because who wouldn't.

And I can't help but see myself at 24 still waiting for something, some event, some weird looking British guy in a police booth to to change my life. To imitate the beginning of my adventure. And it hasn't happened yet, not even close to happening. And I just want to runaway from this life, and find myself somewhere new.

And I've been watching the BBC all week, and I want to go to the UK so badly. I don't even know what I'd find or do there, but dammit all to hell it would be some adventure wouldn't it. But how do I put thoughts into action. How can I make any of this a reality. Hence the fork, and the random BBC America marathons.

And if ever such a doctor approached me with promises of adventure I would go with him in a heartbeat. I am ready for adventure, I am ready to start my life because I am sick of this waiting. And Matt Smith is a strangely attractive, disturbingly nerdy British guy of my dreams.

I Saw'd Me Some Dinosaurs!

So I did it. I went to the city today and saw dinosaurs. Lots of them.

I wanted to put these pics up before I go showing them elsewhere (facebook). I had an amazing, lovely day.

It was really crowded inside, but for the most part it was an awesome good day. I started on the fourth floor, where I met the dinosaurs and worked my way down to first floor where I encountered the stars.

The dinosaurs themselves exceeded my expectations. The museum infuses real and faux bones to reconstruct what dinosaurs look like. They were mammoth creatures who have stolen my heart. I gasped at this fellow.

The exhibit that really stole the show though was the human origin one. Jeepers people, I cried. It was too beautiful for words. Our origins are traced back billions of years, and I encountered the two bipedal (early) hominids, holding hands behind the glass partition.

Holding hands! It was too lovely for words, and I got all choked up and I tried to take a picture but I couldn't seem to get a good angle. And then I realized I had my story, because of two early human beings holding hands.

I will of course post more pictures later, the trip has taken a lot out of me (that's the introvert part I despise. Sheer exhaustion from external interactions) but I had an amazing day!

Will write later. Now time for a nap

RAWR!

Guess who is going to see some dinosaurs on Monday!

I've been planning this trip for a very long time. I'm not going to lie, I wasn't into dinosaurs when I was a kid. Outside of the Power Rangers referencing them every Saturday, I didn't pay much attention to the dinosaur lessons in school. Not because they aren't cool or anything, but I didn't really see the point.

Of course now at 24, because I'm a late bloomer, Dinosaurs fucking rock my world. I can't get enough of them. But I am going to the museum for reasons outside of my new fond appreciation. It has more to do with story writing.

Don't tell anyone, but I'm writing a short story. I know I still have the Peru story to write, and that screenplay to compose but short stories are fun. Josh, dude at work, proclaims that he is a writer and because I like him to pieces I don't really question him. I mean, I think that I am a writer too. I don't go around introducing myself as one like he does but I do write.

A couple of weeks ago he came to me uber excited because he said he was getting published in some journal. My heart dropped. My first thought was 'you are fucking kidding right? Your ideas are sub par, your plots are convoluted, and you wanting to become a writer so that you can be like Richard Castle from Castle is not a reason to write, jackass!'. But what he neglected to tell me is that he is not getting published in any journal, he is submitting a story to a journal for potential publication. Like everyone else.

The one, and only thing, I honestly learned from hot professor is that writing is full of rejection. You can think something is awesome, so awesome that no one could possibly reject it, until that letter comes into the mail that your story was not accepted, you have been denied admission, we went another route but we thank you for your work. It's apart a life, and if I want to be a writer I must accept that. I don't think Joshua knows that yet because he thinks submitting a story entails publication. I didn't want to remind him that writing a short story can be more difficult than a full length one, that though the plot structure is still the same condensing it into 16-20 pages 'ain't' easy. And that having never written anything critiqued, work shopped, or reviewed by ANYONE outside of friends will make first time publication difficult, if not down right impossible.

But he was so confidant that I didn't want to come off as the 'jealous Debbie downer' by stating my concerns so i kept my mouth shut. But he thinks this is going to lead to book rights, and movie offers. I shit you not, I know this only because a few minutes later a coworker wanted to know what we were talking about, and he said with the most gleeful smile ever 'my story getting published thing'. She rolled her eyes and walked away saying 'yeah, you told me'.

But you should have seen him. He was like a little boy being told that he got the only A on a test everyone did poorly on. It was smug and gullible and naive all wrapped up in one smile. And so....I've decided to submit a short story to a plethora of contest coming up in the next few months. What, I never said I wasn't a competitive person.

Okay that's a stretch, the real reason I am on this submission bandwagon is because anyone can submit stories (case in point: josh). And as a person who wants to write, I need to start getting my stuff out of my head and into some hands. Unlike josh, i am prepared for the realities of submissions and my stories aren't terribly horrible.

And as I was walking home the other day, I saw a school bus of children dressed like little adults boarding a bus in preparation for a field trip. And I was filled with this desire to write a story about a field trip to a museum with a heartbreaking realization from the nerdy, introspective protagonist. And there you have it, a story idea (still in the beginning stages) and a definite trip to a museum while will hopefully lead to a complete short story ready for submission.

But I need to authenticate the museum experience. I have not been to this one since I was a kid, and in all honesty I don't remember anything about it. So, I'm going to go on Monday to get a sense of the setting, to expose my eyes to field trip experience. I am going to bring my camera, and notebook, and write as much as I can about sights, smells, and emotions that arise in the museum. Plus, I need a break from my life for awhile. I am thinking way to much lately, and it's wearing me out. The trip will be a little pricey, but I will manage.

I've been looking at the website the past couple of days, and it is geeking me out. Though I won't go on any of the group/school related tours the exhibits look amazing. Outside of the dinosaurs, I am most excited about the Hall of Human Origins. I'm not sure if it is actively open, but goddamn how I want to explore!

My camera is a little busted and unused these days, but expect pictures. Lots

Sometimes I Feel Like Throwing My Hands Up in the Air

I should have stayed in bed today. For realz, but I didn't.

First, I had a very early appointment with a very pissed hairdresser. Long story short, I have been going to his guy for a year and a half now. My aunt introduced me to him, and lets just say my hair has been suffering since. Three weeks ago a friend from work took me to her hairdresser and my hair is looking pretty good these days. But the new hairdresser is in the Bronx, and I honestly didn't feel like going that far.

So I booked an appointment with 'old hairdresser', for maintenance sakes. Immediately he recognized my new cut and healthy hair. He didn't ask any questions, but by the way he was tugging on my hair (and the cold icy glares) I could tell he was pissed. He then give me a ridiculous add insult to injury. Imagine your very old, very quirky aunt with the giant puff of a hairstyle atop her head. That's me!

Then, I decided to go to the bookstore ( I know, day off no no) to purchase some items I forgot to buy yesterday. I planned part of my day around this item and ex-hairdresser is literally a block away. Of course the moment I walked into work everyone wanted to know what I was doing there. I think I said 'buying something' five times in the span of 10 minutes. Then out of nowhere, the kid whose story I read and thought sucked majorly popped out of nowhere and said:

"hurry up and buy your stuff already. There is no reason for you to be here this early in the morning. Seriously"

I wanted to punch him in the face. But of course, because I internalize everything I sulked away from with my magazine and Moosecrunch. Yeah, so I went to work for caramelized popcorn and chocolate. Sue me, but it was 50%.

Then when I got home I couldn't even eat the moosecrunch, and instead took a long awkward nap. When I woke up, there was a message on my phone from a co-worker an hour after she sent it. Apparently they are/were a person short tonight for a closing shift with my Favorite Manager, and needed some help.

Evil Manager (the one who yelled at me) was suppose to call me and see if I could come in (which I wouldn't have done anyway but would have at least told Favorite Manager). But some how she 'accidentally' left the intended 'beckett can you come into night' message on another co-workers phone, hence the text message I received from her. Though I had nothing to do with the miscommunication, that won't be made apparently until tomorrow which makes me look like I bailed on the closing shift.

Why do I even attempt to get out of bed some days.

My hair looks weird, my ego is bruised, and I feel lost. At this rate I may have no choice but to go back to school. Life sucks hardcore some days.

Ass-Kicked

My allergies are acting up. This is not good.

After working four straight days, I am pretty out of it. My body is giving up on me. It decided that enough is enough. I closed Friday. Had a mid shift on Saturday. Opened Sunday, and then opened today.

Running on empty would be an understatement.

I don't usually open on Mondays and for good reason. There was absolutely nothing to do today, and when I wasn't off in a corner somewhere pretending to be busy (standing next to a shelf with a book in my hand with a puzzled look on my face, does the trick all the time) I walked up one aisle and down another. For exercise.

But I still felt all kinds of awful despite the lack of work. It's a mixture of allergies and body aches. By the time my break rolled around, I picked some corner in the cafe to re-read How to Breathe Underwater. In between reading a short story about a girl who survives a car accident and has to learn how to face her fear of water, I noticed a creepy guy sitting below me in some chairs we keep near cafe.

He kept looking into the cafe, where I was sitting, and turning in his seat. I ignored him for the most part because we get a lot of weird people in the store, and I was on my break. I wasn't being weird guardy bookstore girl. I was eating a bagel, reading a book, and listening to TV on the Radio.

But I couldn't pull my eyes away from him. He was just so weird. And we made eye contact for a second because I thought he was very shady, and he knew this. But he thought I was just some obnoxious customer who stares a lot. I mean, I wasn't wearing my name tag and in all honesty looked like I was skipping my high school English class (book bag and book didn't help).

The next thing you know, as I am mid bagel, the creepy guy gets up flips open his duffel bag and stuffs three very expensive boxes of chocolate in his bag.

Right in front of me!

I stood up immediately and attempted to jump into action, but he was gone before I could even utter "thief". I told a manager what happened, and then spent the rest of the day being questioned about what I saw. What did he look like? What was he wearing? What time did this all occur? Why didn't you do anything?

I won't even go into the fact that I am as petite as petite can get. He had no idea that I worked there, because I was just idly sitting in cafe. And I had no desire to test out what would happen if I approached this very large, built, duffel-bag carrying guy over the theft of chocolate (very expensive though. seriously). I put my safety before the damn candy.

After that incident I pretty much checked out for the rest of the day, and now I am at home hugging a pillow and typing at the same time. My head is all over the place, my body feels like crap, and I am sleepy. Very sleepy. I have a day off tomorrow and outside of a hair appointment, I plan on catching up on sleep and reading. Lots of it. No need to get out of bed tomorrow. No need at all.

Another One Down.

Today I found out that my friend from cafe is leaving.

fucking eh-. Everyone is leaving. And yet I still remain.

I opened today and saw a message on the white board announcing that there is an opening for a cafe lead. An opening in any department means that someone is leaving, and realizing that there are only two cafe leads, one of whom is my friend, I quickly put two and two together.

The news of his leaving was then announced during our dumb morning meetings where we all stand around at customer service while one of the managers goes on an on about...something. I am crushed. This is the fourth person living the bookstore in less than two months.

Which means that new people will be hired, making me one of the older employees. I hate this. I love that He is moving on from the bookstore. I don't know if he got a new job or is moving back in with his parents, but regardless he won't be there. And if anyone deserves to get out of that place it's him.

But, I can't help but feel jealous. I can't help but feel sad because He is leaving but also because I am still there. Of course, after the meeting when we all dispersed someone [Dave] stopped me on my way to the children's department to discuss the news. And he went on to say that he was happy that my friend was getting out of the bookstore because some people become 'lifers'

It's a term thrown around loosely at work to of course describe people who will be there FOREVER. Dave said he was going to be a lifer, no doubt about it. But as soon as he said it he was all 'no, I'm just kidding I might go back to school. I haven't been in school for ten years'. But I knew that he was serious, that store is going to be his job until it closes or he finds another retail job.

It seems every time someone else leaves the store, I envision with hope my own departure. The day where I get to announce that I received an unbelievable and exciting offer at some production company and that I regretfully (not) have to put in my two weeks notice. And then at the meeting, my manager will tell my co-workers of my impending leave and everyone will be sad. Yeah.

But until then, every time someone else leaves the store, I am faced with the irrational fear that I will be a lifer. I graduated going on two summers ago (writing two years is painful). And though I know I am an amazing, brilliant, charismatic young women I can't help but call on my real life to begin already, for something to come my way.

Because I'm don't want to be a lifer. I won't.

And Then I Bought a Cheeseburger.

I wanted to shop my little heart out today.

I have some how gone from working four days at the bookstore to five days. I need the money, and though I am sending out applications left and right (does anyone want to hire me as a production assistant. purty please) I haven't heard anything on the job front. Last week I sent out 6 applications. Nice cover letters and all. But alas nothing, and did I mention that I need the money.

Five days a week though, means that I only have 2 to myself. And when I'm not writing company specific cover letters, I am sleeping. Hardcore. But after an emotional night, and spring like weather I decided to brave the world today and go shopping.

Ever since my spat with Marie I realize that I don't have too many friends to hang out with. Everyone I know here works with me, and I am hesitant on combining my personal life with the people at the bookstore.

Last week one of my co-workers asked me if I wanted to head to a diner after work with him. I sort of blinked awkwardly because he is sort of shy and quiet, and I am sort of shy and quiet and collectively we have don't talk too each other much. I mean we do, but just not as much as I do with say Josh.

He was headed there with two people from cafe, an old girlfriend and McAbs. I thanked him for inviting me but quickly said 'no thanks'. But I do need to hang out with people. I just do, even if they are my co-workers. So i'm not going to share my life story with them but it but it doesn't mean that I can't hang out with them sometimes after work. It doesn't mean that I can't go out for drinks (soda) or see a movie every once in a while. When i'm comfortable with the situation, I mean.

But I don't have going out clothes. At work I wear slacks and a blouse. And at home it can be 90 degrees outside and I will still wear a cardigan, jeans, and chuck Taylor's. I have clothes that I wear to work, and then clothes that I wear in my room. Right now that is the extent of my wardrobe, and it's pretty bad.

So I headed to the mall this morning to gather from 'social gathering' clothes, so if did want to go to the diner with someone from work, or to see a movie and go out for drinks I would look , you know, presentable and not like a teenage boy. Which I sometimes dress like. But when I wasn't bombarded with fashion resembling something I wore when I was 8 in the 90's, there was too much neon and backless shirts at the mall. What's the point of wearing a shirt if it's missing essential fabric in the front and back of the blouse.

So like an adult, I headed to the food court after an hour or so of thumbing through clothes and bought a cheeseburger. A double cheeseburger. Yeah, what a successful shopping day.

I'm thinking about heading into the city soon. I haven't been there since my second Nonion interview way back in December (they never called, I never emailed a 'so about the internship' letter) and I need to escape from this town for a while. Even if it's just for a day. And maybe, maybe, I will find some clothes to wear. I could also find a used bookstore. Or a record store.

I sometimes get the urge to explore my surroundings and because the weather is getting warmer, I don't feel like being trapped inside all day. Which is very unusual for me to say. But I'm hoping that a change in my routine will get my life up and running again. I need it to.

Now time to eat that cheeseburger.

To Build A Home

today someone at worked asked if my brother had any children,

[she] only asked because a couple of weeks ago she came across my brothers facebook page, and thought he was pretty. She told me this. She said 'you have a really pretty brother' and then spent some time viewing his profile. I guess she flipped through some of his pictures and eventually came across one of Danny.

It was taken a few months before he died. In may. near my brothers birthday. Morgan is awkwardly holding him, while Danny's lips are pursed in curiosity at the girl (me) pointing a camera at his face.

It was the first and last time any of us got to met him in person (outside of checking in on him every week via the phone and mailing him gifts). He had curious eyes the whole day. But he didn't' cry. not once. He sort of just took us all in, and then slept.

And the girl who asked me if Morgan had any children is a friend of mine. And she was just curious because in the photo he is protectively holding Danny from what seems like ages ago. And yet, I was taken aback by the question. I didn't even know how to answer. I paused for a moment. Because he does have a kid. He is a father. I was a aunt. My mom was a grandmother.

And just because he isn't here, does that mean we don't exist as those people anymore. Do our titles get stripped away, or worse buried with him.

So i answered in the past tense, and said that he died last summer. And it was the first time I'd ever said it out loud and it sounded foreign, but I didn't know what else to tell her. I couldn't deny his very own existence in favor of my own. In favor of saying 'no, he doesn't have one', just so I wouldn't have to explain.

But the moment I told her the truth her face broke into pieces that resembled mine and I felt as if I had shattered in front of her. Because what else was I suppose to say. What am I suppose to say when people ask. Danny was my brother's son, and he continues to be someone I miss every day.

I had no words.

And then we sat there in silence for a short while. And I wanted to get up and go to the bathroom to cry, but I couldn't because she stared at me with sad eyes. So i just stayed there with her as she looked at me as if he'd died yesterday.

He's really dead isn't he?

And this never gets any easier does it?

And he'll never get older. And he'll always be a past tense.

And we'll always just try to go on the best that we can without falling apart in the silence.

...

Barred...

So I'm currently barred from the library. Seriously.

When I moved to New York I requested a change of address from the post office. I wanted my mail to come directly to my aunts house instead of going all the way to South Carolina.

But since things didn't work out to well there, I changed my address back to my moms. Now that I pay rent in the new digs, I should have changed my address (again). But I don't want to do that until I have a place of my own. I mean I've never had an apartment. Ever. Since school I have lived in rooms, or what my school considered rooms ( more like a broom closet). And as I pursue this whole job thing, I look forward to having money so that I can get a apartment one of these days. Maybe not in New York, but somewhere.

But the library is all kinds of strict about patrons having a home address. And though I have a home, my home is listed elsewhere. So yeah, I get mail sent here. But as c/o because I live in her home.

Apparently the library has attempted to send me mail the last few weeks, and it's bounced back to them. Now I am barred until I show some proof that I live in here. Which isn't going to be hard. My mom can just mail me something directly to this address, but fucking eh-. I really wanted to get some DVD's today, and now...barred.

I hate that word. Makes me sound like a criminal.

Today was a beautiful. It was warm and sunny, but not to hot. Though the library thing didn't work out, I did try my hand at shopping. It didn't go well, H&M is bringing back the 90's (neon colors, mom jeans, washed out jeans and shirts) and though I felt nostalgia thumbing through the clothes, I walked out with nothing.

I want to get back on the mixtap wagon again. It's spring and I've got some pretty good songs on rotation lately.In fact I want to get back into the swing of a lot of things, I have abandoned lately. I'm in good spirits and that is no April fools lie. Things will get better, because I want them to. Things will get better, because I am working hard on it. And even when I am tired, depressed, barred and damn near hopeless I have this glimmer of hope that things will get better. Because they have to. And now i am in a mood for good music, letter writing, story telling.

Yay for April.