Answer to Yourself.

Heats back.

Last night was the worst. I came down with some weird sore throat thing along with an irritated ear a few days ago. And of course the 90 something degrees weather (the humidity making it feel like 95) did not help.

I don't do well in the heat. And for some reason the promise of rain did not come yesterday. It remained a hot sticky day, much of which I spent in bed praying for someone to turn the earthly temp down.

When that didn't happen, i passed out around 3am from what I can only described as stomach cramps and muscles contractions. It was horrible.

Today is promising to be another scorcher. I'm a tad bit dehydrated but I've stocked up on water and Gatorade, I'm hoping that helps. I think my sore throat has everything to do with the heat and am waiting for it to relieve itself.

I have a slow work schedule this week. Three closing shifts and four days to myself. My first two are winding down but it has been a much needed break from work.

Going back to the bookstore on Saturday was weird. When I was younger my first memory of anxiety revolves around embarrassing mistakes made at school. Like the time I got detention for stuffing two tennis balls down my blouse (i was in the fourth grade). We had a substitute teacher that day, and for some reason our normally well behaved class was a nightmare. The minute she saw me stuff my shirt she started jotting my name down.

What she didn't know was that our class was weeks away from performing a play in which I played your classically unappealing witch. We discussed padding my jeans and stomach to make the character round, I added the tennis ball at the last moment because I thought she should have saggy boobs.

By the end of the day half the class had detention, including me the 'golden student' because of my saggy boobs skit. That whole night I was terribly nervous and nauseous about showing up to school to face my teachers disappointment in our behavior. All I could think about was what it was going to be like to head into school the next day. I expected stares, and glares and a few pitiful bowed heads when I walked into the building. I expected to see Ms. Mooney disappointed in all of us, including me. And it was just like that when I showed up to class. And when she read the detention list, everyone gasped when my name was called . It was mortifying

Every since then, the 'day after' is terrifying. And the day after I cried at work, was bound to be awkward. Not only was Friday a disaster but getting super emotional at work is uncharacteristic for me. Despite being this rather 'sensitive' person, I hate being emotional in front of other people. It's the reason I tend to me a loner. I'd rather wallow alone with my thoughts, than bring someone else into it.

And that's sort of the problem. I keep forgetting that it's okay to let people into my head every once in a while. It's alright to admit, sometimes, that I'm a human being with shit days. It was funny, because after I got all chocked up in front of Her she said 'I always thought you were like that robot from that show Small Wonders. Because you are always so upbeat and happy, I forget sometimes that you are like this real person outside of work'

And it's true. I close people off from me when it comes to any real sort of emotion and it makes getting to know the 'real' me very difficult. And though I never approve of crying at work, I couldn't help it when she reached out to me and said 'i don't really have any friends, but we can be a lonely party of two whenever you feel like it'.

Of course I won't see her until Wednesday, and it will be an awkward 'hey how are you' greeting but sometimes it feels good not having to pretend everything is a-OK in my life. Because some days it sucks hard.

Though she wasn't there this weekend, I had to face Matt (guy who got in a parking lot brawl) and McAbs who both kept watching me as if I were about to shatter into a million pieces. Matt tentatively came up to me and asked if I was okay. When I responded with an elongated "yes" he said 'Oh, because you weren't feeling too well on Friday, I just wanted to make sure you were...you know..okay". Then he spent the rest of the night being overly nice and concerned about my well being.

McAbs on the other hand offered me a kitten. Another one. Remind me never to have another bad day at work again.

Until, Wednesday I have a few good hours left of my day off. I finished Wonder Boys by Michael Chabon and I've just started "Bastard Out of Carolina". I wanted to read something really southern to go along with the southern-like temperatures.

Can't go wrong with a good reading day.

Returning to the Scene of the Crime.

Yesterday was an emotional wrought night of tears, jeers and other random emotional breakdowns at work. And I can't even contribute all of these emotions to me.



To sum up yesterday:



1) I cried in front of co-worker (the girl I consider my closet friend there. She was upset because she can't keep a dog she rescued in her apartment anymore,and she thought I was mad at her because I was not in a good mood yesterday. I was not in a good mood because of work and because fourth of July is a week away). It was a completely frustrating tear fest of ' I'm not always a happy smiley person. Some days just suck. today especially' followed by her proclaiming 'me neither'. Lifetime movie, anyone?

2) The Store Manager was fired causing us all to lose our shit! We like the way she runs the store, with her leaving things are going to get ugly. She wouldn't go as far as to say she was fired, she said it was a 'mutual' decision between her and the company. But in my experience, there is no such thing as a mutual decision between two opposing people.

3) One of the boys got in a fight the other night. He seemed distraught/excited about the whole event. So it didn't help when I told him to 'shut up' some time earlier because I thought he was mocking my sad demeanor. I guess taken aback by my response, he kept apologizing to me all night feigning concern for me, in order to make sure I didn't perceive him as an asshole. He then went into the male version of a sob fest regarding the fight, but I was not to interested in hearing.

4) An annoying coworker was promoted to head cashier, and now she is on a 'power trip'. She didn't land a teaching position post grad (welcome to the club) and she wanted a full time position. But yesterday she referred to herself as a 'manager' and said she was going to use her teacher tactics to get us into shape. Did I mention that she's 22 and gives directions as if the map is tacked to her ass. That's unfair, I now but seriously.

5) McAbs and I got into an argument regarding my privacy. 'Co-worker who got in a fist fight' stumbled across me and 'co-worker who saved a dog' after our tear fest. He looked confused and amiss in our aisle of tears, he must have gone and told McAbs about it because 30 minutes later, McAbs wanted to give me a hug. A real one.

As I was leaving, he wanted to know what was up, but I immediately sensed he was being noisy. I told him that sometimes it's better not to know everything about the people we work with. What good would that do. He seemed all offended, which is weird because he said the same thing to me...what...four weeks ago. He said something along the lines of 'that unfair. but if you want to keep your business to yourself. go ahead. it's not like i care anyway'.

Damn. All in the span of what, an eight our shift.

I have to close tonight, and I can't help but feel as if I am returning to scene of a crime. A crime where tears were shed, egos were busted and people were fired.

I don't think I'm ready for this.

Because I Adore You and Your Frog Boots!

Today is one of my favorite days. It's my friend Frogboots birthday, and I will spend it thanking the interweb for having introduced me to her.

I am a very sneaky, private, illusive person. I like my hidden spaces and locked doors. But in FrogBoots I have found my cosmic twin. In her, I have let my defenses down. And today is her special day.

I had a cool dream last night. No lie.

We were having a picnic in a park. You were laughing, which is a good thing, and I was at ease. Which I tend to not always be. It was simple and perfect.

I want to wish a very happy birthday. I don't know if you know this, but I adore you more than you will ever know.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY FROGBOOTS!!!!!!!

Welcome to Adulthood

The last couple of days have not gone by well.

Okay, I take that back. Monday and Tuesday were awesome, Wednesday sucked hell.

I was off Monday and Tuesday, and I spent those days reading Wonder Boys by Michael Chabon, crushing on this guy for a bit and watching soccer. I freaking love soccer. Seriously.

But then I had to go to work yesterday and my general 'happy mood was quickly replaced by frustration and rage. I am not an angry person. I stress this a lot because I come from a family of angry men. I have seen the depths of anger at it's cruelest and because of this I refuse to be angry. Hell I get frustrated and pissed, I am not perfect, but anger is not an emotion I will ever accept.

But yesterday I toyed the loose line between frustration and built up 'rage'. It's bad enough that I hate my job but the current suckassness of it isn't helping. I do love the flexibility of book store life, and my co-workers are for the most part, awesome. But the incompetence of one manager, followed by a work schedule that consists of only three closing shifts next week...is bullshit.

As soon as I walked into worked I checked my schedule. Though I expected hours to be a little funky because of all the new additions, I wasn't expecting my hours to get slashed so drastically. I work Sunday, Wednesday and Friday for goodness sakes. I will be able to afford food and nothing else for a bit.

Compared to everyone else's shift I feel like I was given the short end of the stick. I complained to my mom about this and she said that I should talk to a manager about it. But at this point, I don't feel like I should be competing for hours. I do my work, I do it well. My hours should indicate that level of work and yet, I get three days next week. All closing shifts, one of those shifts on the night Eclipse comes out.

Pretty much after the schedule thing I was in a crap mood (and even a little emotional. I wanted to cry, I even teared up a little. During my 15 minute break I frantically wrote in my journal 'there is this huge possibility, you see, that I might be fucking this up. fucking up the parts of me that are suppose to be human. all of the important parts that keep a person going. How incredibly empty that feeling is. How strangely immobilizing if not scary'. Some how this fragmented stream of conscious thought calmed me down a bit). And guess who was closing last night, to make things even more difficult and crappy than the needed to be. Yeah, 'crappy insane manager'.

'Crappy Insane' Manager (CI) cannot manage people. Instead of telling us what to do she suggests it, which is both patronizing and passive aggressive. I avoid her as much as I can, even when I close with her, I refuse to speak to her because of her lack of management skills. She knows that I do not like her, and even though I have a tendency of being a pushover I refuse to take crap from her. She is intimidated by this, and since that night she went all ape shit on me, she hasn't done it since.

Last night, we didn't get out of the store until 11:45 because CI started pulling tills too late and then tried to make it seem as if it was because 'we' spent the whole night talking instead of cleaning the store. Earlier in my shift she painfully telling me to do a simple task that I was already doing. She kept repeating the request 'could you work on this' as I was doing it, as if I was deaf. I turned to her aggressively and said 'I'm doing it. no need to keep repeating it' to which she replied 'oh, you just looked a little confused. I'm sorry".

So when 11:20 rick rolled around, and we were still at the store my frustration with her and my dumb job hit a boiling point. At 11:35, she finally emerged from the office but by then we'd grown sick of her stalling tactic (she hadn't finished counting so she can't assigning unnecessary tasks over the PA:'could you guys make sure the break room table is neat') we were camped out at customer service waiting to get the go ahead that we could get our stuff.

But that was not the case. CI decided to give a store tour instead. Yes, people a store tour. To familiarize us with recent changes on the floor. Of our own store.

The two new people smiled and followed, I rolled my eyes and shot her the death stare. This is the second time in which I have closed with her that she completely ass backwards. A tour of some of the recent changes would have been acceptable hours earlier, but seeing that most of us were on the floor already (cleaning) it was a very ill intentioned attempt to divert our attention from her lack of direction.

I despise her and summoning up the strength to go to work is becoming a chore. I need an alternative to this work situation. I hope that a regular 9-5 gig comes my way soon, or I will need to get a second job. Which at this point wouldn't be a bad idea. I need to save money. Lots of it. I intend on doing everything I need to in order to be apart of a UK production scheme. To me, this is the equivalent to applying to grad school. And it's a big deal.

Where I lack rational plan making skills, I have never worked harder to prepare myself for working abroad. But until I have landed in England with a production scheme to look forward to, I need to take afloat here. Emotionally, mentally, and financially.

Yep, being an adult officially sucks!

Honestly Ok

Tonight was dreadful.

My anxiety flares up at the most awful times. As if to remind me that I am not alright. As if to point out to everyone I know that there is a weird socially awkward girl amongst them.

I find myself making leaps and bounds on the anxiety front. I no longer duck and hide to avoid interactions with people. I am much more open about being a little antsy, and in a way being able to talk to people about it makes me feel...better.

And hey, there was no way that I thought being here for two years would cure me, but I felt that I was doing better. But then I have nights like tonight, where my anxiety wakes up. It shakes, rattles and rolls directly to the surface and I am overcome by it.

Tonight, I found myself surrounded by familiar faces who I have come to know and like on an individual level. People who I have strong connections too. But the moment that small group of people morphed into 5 or 6 of us, standing around at customer service waiting for the manager to relieve us from that god awful place, I froze up.

I found myself not being able to breathe. I found myself fading away. From the conversation, from their eyesight. I wanted to stay with them and be a normal person for once and communicate with my peers. I wanted to laugh at their jokes and convince them that I too would be attending a much hyped pool party in two weeks. but of course I eventually drifted from them until I was in a safe little corner, far far away, where the only voice I could hear was my own irrational one trying to hold back what feels like a beast inside of me.

And by the time we were finished cleaning up, I had removed myself so far from them that they forgot I was there. It wasn't until we grabbed our stuff from the break room did they ask what had happened to me.

But I was too inside my head to respond. I kept thinking, why can't I just do this. Be less anxious, be a freaking normal 24 year old.

Why can't I just do this. Where did I start to fall apart allowing this 'thing' to emerge and eclipse me. I find myself on nights like these wanting to pinpoint the exact moment it all began and ripping it from my memories.

Maybe it began the moment that car struck us, sending us through the air and into a ditch, causing my face to resemble that of a boxer after a tough fight. Maybe it was in the 9th grade when He said I ' wasn't ugly but...' in front of my acting class but then he never answered as everyone waited patiently.

Or maybe it was earlier, way earlier, during the days I felt like a grown up because everyone around me seemed too lost to be one.

Whatever that point it is, I want to claw it out of me and discard it. Because it has fucked me up. I want to claw out that moment in time where I started hiding to escape the noise, to escape the fear. Because it has made me a screwy and insecure person yearning to fall into my skin again and be normal.

What the hell is wrong with me?

I've Got the Starving Part Down...

This month, surprisingly like March, April and May, is flying by.

How is it already the 18th? That means I have to pay rent soon (argh) which means I will be even poorer than I already am. There's this dumb new show on Bravo called Work of Art that I started watching because...it was late and nothing else was on. It's another reality show competition , produced by sarah jessica parker, where artist duke it out every week creating 'works of art' for subsequent evaluation.

It's a pretty pompous show. One, I couldn't imagine having to create something under the guise of a competition show. To me that is not what art is. It's a process, sometimes slow or sometimes chaotic. But if someone told me today that I had to come up with a story featuring some just imagine concept, I could do it, but it would take more than 24 hours. I'd have to sit with the concept for a while, let it marinate, and then proceed from there. But alas that is not how reality competition works, and if sarah jessica parker says create a piece in less than 48 hours for the chance to win a buttload of money, well then you do it.

Secondly, some of the artist on this show remind me of very well to do kids, complaining out how hard it is to create art and survive. What I find hilarious about the show is the comparison between my imagined sense of the 'starving artist' vs. the participants on the show. In my world, the starving artist is just that. He or She is most likely a scruffy looking, neurotic, chain smoking individual who lacks the nutritional or hygienic desire to eat well or shower. Cliche yes, but all too true. On this show however, even the scruffiest of contestants are donning Banana Republic v-neck sweaters. It's like when you see Brad Pitt in a magazine looking like a homeless guy, only to realize that it cost thousands of dollars for him to look that unkempt.

The people on the show are your quintessential eccentric, too into their art...hipsters. And some how when they proclaim that they have suffered for their art and are broke beyond broke, I can't help but stare at his or her too 'cool for school' scarf thinking otherwise (I'm talking to you Ryan!). Miles, Ryan and Nicole exemply my observation of this. Hearing them talk almost hurts. I think Ryan even said he sleeps in a car. I could have died with laughter.

I would not call myself an artist, but I've got the starving brokeassness thing down. The other day my friend from work asked what was wrong with my shoes. I looked down to see the state of my well intentioned green flats were beyond destroyed. They are not even shoes anymore. They are simply fabric being held together by string. The bottom of the sole doesn't even exist anymore. It's not that I can't afford new shoes, but I am prioritizing necessities, and new shoes isn't on the list. And it was then that I realize I am a broke individual. Not poor, but broke. When did 24 become so awesome!

I do worry about money almost every single day. Without help from the moms, I could not afford, in any regards, to live here. Not on the bookstore money anyway. And now there is a bunch of new people (and one random intern. yes, an intern) who I am training and trying to make feel comfortable even though I know they will take the hours away from me. I am not a full time employee there, and when things get slow I am the first one to see a decrease in hours (and they just made a girl who just graduated from school a full-time employee. great).

This UK thing won't start until next summer (fingers crossed). Which is good, because I can work out my passport and visa issue, secure a traineeship program with a company and have money to live aboard. But until then I have to figure out ways to stay afloat here. The job applying, job hunt still continues but I'm seriously considering getting a second job. I need the money or more importantly I need to lighten the stress. And I could use some new shoes apparently

I guess that's why I wish the days weren't moving by so fast. July already is going to be a busy and expensive month for me, and it isn't even here yet. I am going home for a whopping 10 days that month, followed by a weekend visit from Angie at the end of July.

I managed to save up 40 vacation hours this year, which means I can go home and still get paid as if I had worked for a week. I still have my concerns being gone for that long. Don't get me wrong, I look forward to being in South Carolina for a while and eating non frozen food in my home, but the responsibilities here are weighing heavy in my mind.

I'm attempting to relieve the stress through fun activities. The other night I hung out at a co-workers house, playing dumb boy games (super hero dungeons and dragons. I watched more than anything) with two of them while eating a version of Parmesan chicken that only twenty something year old boys could imagine. It was an amazing night. I was there until 10, laughing and enjoying my time. I haven't done this in a very long time. And despite my apprehensions about hanging out, I need to loosen up a little. Or this poor starving artist thing will be the death of me.

Time Flies.

Oasis released another greatest hits album today (seriously, oasis. You sort of hit your peak in the states circa the 90's. I can't name an oasis song to date that hasn't come off What's the Story (morning glory) or Definitely Maybe. And two greatest hits album featuring a track list of the same songs is well...unnecessary) which made me very nostalgic about my childhood.

Appropriately the album is called Time Flies, and because of this release I went on sort of an Oasis binge today. It was great.

Adults aren't lying when they harp about cherishing your youth. It is one of the things we will never get back. I will never be 12 again, or 16 or hell, even 23 seems like a lifetime ago. And even when I look back at those years, reliving the beauty and misery of it, I am filled with sadness because I won't ever be able to experience it again. Nostalgia is a double edge sword, which reminds you of the good old days while the clock ticks next to you.

I have had my fair share of days when I wish I would have enjoyed certain ages a lot more than I did. 16-18 were dreadful. I was an antisocial, introvert who was too perceptive for her own good. My high school experience lacked the corny and terribly cliched moments I now wished they did. I didn't even take my senior portrait out of anger and general lack of interest. But, I look back now and realize I had all the opportunities to have an exciting time then, if I had spent more of my days being 17 than wishing to be anything but. I don't regret my time, that would be too self deprecating but I do wish I would have spent more time in the moment than trying to move on so quickly from it.

Time Flies. No matter how hard we want to stop it in it's track. And a part of getting older, for me anyway, is accepting this universal fact. Or more honesty, not being afraid of this universal fact. I wouldn't go as far to proclaim a Carpe Diem mantra here, that is too cheesy. But I do want to enjoy being whatever age I am, at the present moment. Cause I'll only be 24 once. In ten years even this age will seem incomprehensible to me. Being this young will feel like a dream.


And the older I get the more I am dying to be young. I am dying to embrace my twenties. I am dying to be impulsive, and flighty. To enjoy the randomness that comes along with trying to be a person. I feel like that's what your twenties are all about. Chaotic yes, but from that something---I mean someone--- is born.

A couple of weeks ago I was dragging myself around work, depressed out of my mind about everything. Work, the job hunting front, the new people, the old people, my sense of desperation. It was horrible. But through that I remembered something I had seem on a networking site I joined a few months back. This website gives me limited access to the companies I am interested in working for. BBC being one of them.

On the BBC newsletter they announce new employees, and the credentials on one employee,who is around the same age as me, was pretty...fantastic. Apparently she spent a good year overseas to understand international programming. Not only European but the Asian market. Thanks to that glimmer of insight I thought, 'hey, why couldn't I do the same thing'. I'm young, I have the time to do it, and I the love the BBC.

At first this appeared like one of my 'ideas' that sound better in my head than in reality. But damn it all to hell people, there are program of this nature suited for people like me who lack experience in an industry that treasures it. The reason why I am interested in doing this abroad is because I am amazed by UK programming. The shows are brilliant, and witty and funny. Their shows are iconic and imaginative. I catch myself these days watching Dr. Who, Torchwood, Survivors, The IT Crowd in awe of the writing and the representation of the diverse culture there.

The production schemes are lengthy. A year or more depending on which company I apply to. But it's a combination of real world training with learning aspects too invaluable to pass up. I could attempt to find a program like that here but even the one with NBC is tailored to entry level candidates with graduate degrees and previous production experience. The ones in the UK are tailored for people who want t a job in film and television but who have not been able to get one.

I wish I would have known about this sooner. As of today most of the sessions are just now starting, which means I will have to wait a few months until one of these production schemes open up. But in that time, which I will spend learning everything I need to know to be a successful applicant, I can obtain my passport and get a clear understanding of this work visa thing.

If all works out, I could have a legit (seriously legit) experience working overseas, learning and working in an international setting. Could you imagine.

This is the first time in months I have felt 'on' to something. This is the first time in months I am confidant this could work out. And yeah, I still have to figure out how I can afford to travel (or if I can get sponsored by the company in regards to this visa issue) but this is the thing someone my age does, right? This is something I would and want to do.

And can you imagine what I will see and subsequently write about abroad! The schemes are divided into four month department training (radio, production, research) which are located in Manchester, London and Scotland (Scotland!). Travel expenses are paid for to the various locations, though boarding is on me. But it doesn't matter, because time is flying. My experiences will continue, of course, but time is whizzing by. And I no longer want to to feel a sense of emptiness when I look back on my life.

So I'm am working on being UK bound. And not in the daydreaming sort of way (though my thoughts are invaded with British accents as of late). I am preparing myself and my application (visas, scheme placement requirements, passport) in advance so that this will work out. I'm extremely excited and scared, but completely sure this is something I can do.

Spam, Newbies, and Migrating...

I can't wait for tomorrow. I feel like my whole week revolves around making it to Tuesday and Thursday, my perfectly scheduled and utilized days off. But it's only Monday. Which means one more day at the bookstore before I can wake up late and watch Mr. Bean all day long.

Speaking of the bookstore, 5 new people were hired in the span of two weeks. 5 of them! June turned out to be the month everyone scheduled to go on vacation, which doesn't help when you are a poorly staffed bookstore. So in one day we went from having no one to cover shifts, breaks, and other generalities to having 5 new faces to help.

They new people are nice. All fresh faced and happy to have a job. 4 out the 5 hires are boys. One painfully too attractive to have a crush on, the other admittedly into boys as much as I am too have a crush on, and the other two high five one another as if they have been friends since high school. And since they are both ( i believe 19) I wouldn't put it past them.


One of the 19 year old (Steve? Dan? Peter?Sam?) will grow up to be that slightly odd looking but cute and confidant artsy boy girls like me fall in like with. He wears glasses, he is skinny but some how in shape, his head is way too big for his body but that just means he's smart right? I heard him tell a customer that he writes screenplays and makes films. He reminds me a little of Art Boy from way back, just without the personality.

Unless you are mocking the lameness of high fives, proceeding to initiate one is, well, unappealing. My friend at work has already called crush dibs on him. But she doesn't know that after working with him for a day, I am not to sure that he has the personality to sustain any interest. I find myself not wanting to be around him as much as his face would make me want to believe.

I am officially training said new people, making me feel all kinds of 'important'. More like miserable, but we won't go into that. I am learning that the only beacon of hope I have is well...Hope.

It turns out my UK plan is not as irrational as I thought it was. There are actual production schemes that run from a year to 18 months overseas. It is no shock here that I desperately want to go to the UK. I've been planning my imaginary trip since I was 14. And I'm not going to lie and say that I have rational plans, BUT this may work out. Seriously.

If I were accepted to one of these production schemes I would make an entry level salary to study and work abroad.But more on this tomorrow. I still am trying to understand work visas, because before any of this can pan out I have to obtain authorization to work overseas. This possibility though, has lifted my mood some. Could you imagine, me? overseas? for 18 months. I must calm down now!

And the last of my ramblings. I have some concern about comment moderation on my dear blog. I've been getting a lot of comments featuring Chinese characters (I only know this because I googled the translations), which is totally awesome. The reason this blog remains open to the public is because I like being accessible to people reading my journal. I've 'met' the most awesome people due to this journal experience, all because they stumbled across it via Kurt Vonnegut or who knows what.

There have been times however, where I have considered making this a private journal, but I can't do it. I don't know who is reading Everything Was (and somewhere deep inside, I hope there is at least one nerdy 15 year old living in a crappy town thinking she or he may never escape it, reading this. It gets better. It does) , and I wouldn't want to all of a sudden shut some readers out because they've never commented. Hell I don't even comment on the blogs I read, so I don't hold not commenting against anyone.

So Everything Was remains open to the public. BUT, a problem with open blogs is fucking spam. For the most part the Chinese characters I have translated seem legit, but today I woke up and there was this lengthy one which translated into: porn. free porn. sex. porn. boobs. sites. porn. free. xxx'. And that's the abridged version.

Yeah. Not cool. I deleted that mofo the moment I translated it and am running over the other characters to make sure a 'free.sex.girls.girls.girls.' one didn't slip by. I just enabled comment moderation to curb the spam attack, just until I figure out a way to make this blog a little more private (setting up some more security blockades) without isolating anyone. I do love writing here, and I don't plan on leaving anytime soon. But spam is a pain.

So yeah. That's all. Tomorrow I will write about this UK thing. And if anyone can explain the Visa process to me that would be...the bees knees of help.

Mobile

There was a time when I use to listen to Avril Lavigne. Sue me. I was a junior in high school, musicality is very subjective at that age.

I mean I never donned the tie, and she was far from representing punk music but 'Complicated' was our high school anthem. Sure it was no Teen Spirit, but then again who can ever measure up to that song and Kurt Cobain? At that time, when everything seemed to suck: school, family, life I found solace in Avril Lavigne. Her tunes were catchy and some of her lyrics were pages from my 16 year old journal.

I never asked my mom for anything at 16. My brother was at the apex of his rebellion stage and some days I felt guilty for even the smallest requests. But I really wanted this album, like seriously, and was relieved when she said yes. I listened to this album religiously in my room, before the Avril started getting on my nerves, and songs like 'Nobody's Fool', 'My World' and "Anything But Ordinary' were staple indulges.

But the bees knees of tracks on Let Go, for me anyway, was 'Mobile'. I screamed, along with her, 'Everything's changing/When I turn around/I'm out of my control/I'm a mobile/Everything's changing/Out of what I know/Everywhere I go/I'm a mobile'. Even today this is the only song from her that album that I own and I caught myself this morning jumping around the room singing this tune when it started playing on my Ipod.

More than ever, I feel like everything around me is changing. I want to punch 16 year old me in the face for ever thinking that my problems at the time were difficult. And if any 16 year old is reading this ( hey what's up!) be happy that your only concern in life right now is getting a driver's license, having a crush on a boy you can't have or a teacher who is too old, and feeling that your friends don't understand you. That's a walk in the park compared to this quarter life crisis bullshit.

I feel so aimless. I am standing at point A and I can see point B, but I have no idea how to get there. I don't even know how to ask for directions to that point. So instead I am freaking stuck at point A, teetering about wondering when I will finally connect the dots. And it doesn't help that I a getting older which just makes me feel like I should have my life figured out. But I don't, I'm not even close to that.

The bookstore has hired five new fresh faced employees, making me realize that yes indeed I have been there 2 years. Holy crap, where did those two year go? Why am I still there? Why have I not moved on? Two of these newbies started working there 3 week ago, but yesterday I walked into work in a sour mood and saw three new bodies striding out of the break room. I ran to customer service and frantically asked 'who the hell are those people'.

No one answered my question, they were too busy telling me about something else. So I repeated my concern again. For some reason I thought we were giving a store tour and that's why these people wearing name tags and walking with the store manager. But then it occurred to me that these in fact were new people. Like I once was. Then someone said 'calmly': Oh that's just the new people. I just met them, they seem nice.

Nice, maybe? But you can tell when you have worked in a place for too long because all of sudden I was struck by how many new faces I have seen come and go. I was actually told this by someone when I first started working there. That you see so many people come and go, it's a part of the job. And yet I am still there. Why is that? It's perplexing but even worse it's painful.

I live in a place where change happens all the time. Buildings are constantly being built. People come here to reinvent themselves (maybe that is why I did). Fads come and go, people come and go, and yet I....

It doesn't mean that I am not trying to initiate change. My latest attempt in 'having a life' is in trying to locate production traineeship programs in the UK. I am interested in international television, along with travel and am attempting to combine my need for a both a physical and opportunist change. I thought of this idea at work this weekend (the internal conversation went something like this: I like the UK, eventually I want to work in broadcast media for a UK based company, hey....) and my research skills have prevailed in this new venture. There are indeed programs for entry level candidates in the UK in broadcast media. I am not sure if they are targeted only for UK residents, but the programs run a year or more. As of yet I do not have an legal authorization to work overseas. But I am getting a passport in July and plan on applying to some of these programs in hope that I will be an amazing candidate.

This too is a tentative plan. I have not covered the realistic aspects of this idea, which I often encounter later in the process. But it is something that I want to do. It's an alternative to going to grad school which I just cannot afford. It is a radical, drastic risk I am willing to try in order for things to be different. In order for there to be a change in my life.

Because right now I feel like that center piece from which everything is rotating and evolving. I am just observing it with my big old doe eyes hoping that I too will be apart of the process. Eventually.

Breakups and Shakeups

Hear that sound? That's the sound of the final nail being hammered into the coffin known as McAbs.

I don't know how to explain it. I still, sometimes, get this feeling in the pit of my stomach when he's around. He's attractive yes. His muscles are firm yes. And I'm a girl who happens to take notice of these attributes on him.

But when I think really hard on our relationship, it's very surface level. In fact we don't really have much to talk about at all. While Josh, Matti, and some of the other guys are easy to talk to, my conversations with McAbs are so forced it hurts. Because I don't know what to talk to him about he thinks I'm boring. And because he only wants to be overly flirtatious, I find him inappropriate.

Our conversations begin and end with him touching my shoulder or the small of my back and then me....whacking him in response to the invasion. Today, I was zoning the romance aisle and he came over to ask what was up. I explained what I was doing and then talked about my excitement over being able to take some of the returns home to read (hey, it's free romance. sue me).

Instead of engaging in conversation he placed his hand on my shoulder. and then squeezed it, in a massage sort of way. So I shrugged him off and then...well, whacked him in the stomach. It's my only response to him. It's like when I fly is in your face, and you swing in response to how frustrating and exasperating it is. Sometimes I want to say 'really. must you really place your hands on my shoulder or back'. He got really angry after i hit him and pulled away yelling "your so weird!" he then walked away from me and added "like really weird".

I don't know why this hurt my feelings. The way he said it, and the way he bounded up the stairs afterward bothered me. He said it like a jock who has just been caught by his friends talking to the unattractive girl from science class. As if, hurling the classic 'you're weird' insult would establish himself separate from the odd girl. Except we were the only ones present.

I immediately checked out after this exchange. I kept mulling over the word 'weird' and defining it in relation to me. So I don't like to be touched by a guy who has a girlfriend, so I playfully smack and shove dudes that I know. But where does the weird come in? It doesn't help that our 'whatever you call it' has been strained these last months. And that we are hanging on to a thread here even in the associates department.

But after years of being deemed weird, I don't need him (of all people) to affirm any of my fears. Someone who I am not all the comfortable around anyway. I have moved on from McAbs. In the crush department, in the friend department, and even the associates department. Nail in Coffin. Done Deal.

I feel so done with my time at the bookstore. I feel so done with the state of my life these days. I am so done with people's assumption of me and of my own fears of stagnation. I didn't make it to that party last night ( I heard it was a bore). But to everyone who did go it didn't matter that I didn't want to hang out because of my 12-8 shift the next morning. It was just another case of me bailing on them. When Matti came in I asked him if he was mad at me for not going. He said that he wasn't mad, but that he doesn't understand why I don't want to hang out. He knows about my anxiety, and said that he gets anxious too but that he pushes past it. But for me it's not that easy.

But then while joking around at customer service I said 'you know. one day i am going to do something extraordinary', and he laughed, not cruelly I know, and said 'we will all be waiting for that day'. When I asked him what he meant by that he referred to me leading a 'uneventful life'. I mean he's been to Paris and London. He flies to California every month or so to visit friends. This week him and Josh are going on a road trip to a music festival in Tennessee.

I can't even attend a party after work.

I on the other hand saw some dinosaurs a few weeks ago and bought two slices of pizza today which I ate while watching the MTV movie awards. THIS comment made me think of the time my mom said I don't make any waves. That I am just a bystander. I hate feeling like a bystander.

So in one night I have been deemed uneventful and weird.

Damn my life.

But (don't tell anyone)...I am going to be extraordinary one day. I don't care what anyone says.

Summer in the City

It has occurred to me that outside of the one week I plan to go home in July, this will be my first real summer in the city. Or in the vicinity of the city.

When I moved here almost two years ago the summer was pretty much over. And last summer I headed home pre-maturely and spent my days in my room reading books. But with my own place and subsequent free time, I realized that this is my first real summer here. I haven't spent a summer in new york since I was a kid and despite my issues with heat, I am an excited 24 year old with a big city right around the corner. Perhaps I will make this a summer to explore.

I am stressed out. I don't need to read (or re-read) old entries to tell that I am wearing thin. I can feel the stress in my body. I am all sorts of tense and out of whack these days because I am broke, without a job job and feelings of inadequacy and failure creeping into my thoughts often.

I don't have anyone to talk to about these concerns. Ever since the 'you're degree means nothing' discussion with Marie I call her on a 'I'm just calling to let you know I haven't died' basis. Which is around every 2 weeks or so. My mom is a patient mother. But as neurotic as I am, I don't need my mother to worry more than she does now. And it doesn't help that I also feel guilty because financially she is helping me out here.

But I am trying. I am leading my life the best way I can, given the circumstances. And I hate feeling stressed all the time. When I'm not thinking about jobs, I'm thinking about loans. When I'm not thinking about loans I'm thinking about jobs. This doesn't leave much time for anything else. And I fear soon I will be carted off in a straight jacket.

In trying to stay as optimistic as I can, I remembered all the cool things I could do this summer, outside of worrying about...life. I mean I still have rent to pay, and a job to secure but I don't want to waste my whole summer worrying about it. It seems like only yesterday I was walking around the Museum awe-struck and in one of the best moods I've been in for a very long time. And even if I can't do something every week, I would love (love) to continue planning adventures for myself this summer, in a pretty amazing city while I can.

So here are my tentative plans:

Sandwiches Anyone?:

There was an amazing article in the New York magazine about sandwich shops in New York. This city is filled with places serving up some mighty fine (and meaty) sandwiches. After every excursion (thanks to my job as a gofer with Lenny) I would grab a sandwich to appease my stomach. I could eat them every day if I had to. I love mayo, I love turkey and fresh lettuce will be the death of me. Luckily, I live in a city known for it's sandwich's and pizza. So when I stumbled across New York magazines list of 40 or so amazing sandwich shops and specials from Queens to Soho, I was floored and hungry. So, I won't be able to go to each and every one but as a lover of food and a fan of writing about senses, in this case the amazing one of taste, why not plan a trip around the city eating some pretty good food while documenting the awesomeness of it. I have to plan my day around the spots and sandwiches I am willing to try (anything featuring fish is out. I hate fish) but it will be a fun and interesting summer excursion.

High Fidelity:

Ever since I briefly saw John Cusack as a late 20's- early 30's audiophile in High Fidelty, I have been obsessed with dingy record stores. Or better yet, cute boys who work in record stores who know more about music than dare I say...moi. My musical knowledge is still developing. I have matured since the years of The Backstreet Boys and Christina Aguliera. But for every Smashing Pumpkin there is a Jennifer Love Hewitt album somewhere in my closet. And it just ain't cool folks. I'm getting better though. I like what I like, but continue to want new music to fill my ears. And since discovering the awesomeness of record players when I was 18, listening to Lp's has become a listening experience that trumps all else. Unfortunately I have been unable to find any dingy record stores here, where the guys ramble about musicians I never heard of and the Lp's are dirty and awesome. If I could manage to find one (or two or three) of these places this summer to buy music and maybe meet a cute record store boy...well then there you have it.

Monet? Oh, you meant Manet. My Bad:

French Impressionist? Modernist? And those damn Renaissance artists. Yeah, yeah. No big surprise here. I do want to mix up going to the huge spots (the Met, Moma) with some smaller galleries. I love art, not to the point where I am a snob, but to a point where spending a few hours staring at a painting, photo or sculpture is my idea of a good time.

Hidden Places:

Give me a vintage store with an old school goonies t-shirt or a thrift store with cool trinkets you cant' buy at target and i'll be in heaven. I kind of just want to get lost in NYC, and somewhere along the way find myself. If that makes sense at all. There are some wicked awesome parks I have never been too, and places that I just want to stumble across because of fate. Be ot reading the C train downtown or catching the 1 uptown. I just want to travel and explore all the hidden crevices of this place.

I have the whole summer to myself. And at least a couple of days to spare. For the most part I will explore by myself but a friend from work says she wants to try the sandwich thing with me. We'll see. Tentative plans. I do hope to put these in motion. I do.

Pending...

I planned on writing a post earlier today but this morning was one of errands. This is my first day off since last Thursday, and this day of rest has been a much needed one.

People are really frustrating me these days (mainly customers) and I feel like I am losing a sense of my identity at the store. Small things are beginning to bother me and wear on my face. Yesterday was horrible and I wrote (and then promptly took down) an angry post about it. Creepy guy came back and was...well extra creepy and I fear that I will (am) have to notify managers about him.

He painfully (intimately) brushed his hand against mine yesterday while handing me his money and then loomed over me to ask me my name. Luckily I was wearing a name tag that read 'Peggy Sue' (don't ask) and it seemed appropriate enough seeing that I don't want to hear my name come out of his mouth. Ever.

From him to my co-workers and general anxiety, I am full of quiet rage. A rage that makes me want to damage something. And I haven't had that feeling since High school. It's a feeling that I am not comfortable with. But I am beginning to feel swallowed whole by strangers. I am beginning to feel their impressions of me, causing indents to the person I really am, and it is causing a crack within my Psyche.

I am uncomfortable with people addressing me as if they know me. As if my name tag dictates familiarity. I am uncomfortable being on display. I am uncomfortable in my skin, and I don't need people trying to peer inside of who I am through the cracks. I feel vulnerable and exposed by people, and it's been nice to have a day all to myself. Where I don't have to worry about anything or anyone except...me.

I went to the library, checked out a good selection of books and then bought a dress at the mall. I never wear dresses, but it's too hot for anything else today and this one is super girly. It's so girl I may have to buy sandals to go with it. The dress makes me want to go to another museum and snap pictures of something or hang out in central park all day.

Though I am not a fan of the heat, I am looking forward to my first real summer in New York. There are some parks that I want to see, and museums I want to visit. I expect to buy some more dresses (or skirts) for these adventures and this summer will be a picture snapping one. Because I'd like to not sweat while walking around the city I am actually buying summer clothes, and for a girl who likes cardigans this is a step in the right direction.

Today has been a quiet, soft one. I cleaned, did laundry,listened to music and danced. It's suppose to rain later on and for some reason it smells as if it already did. A post is still pending after a few more hours of lounging, dancing and clearing my mind.

Damn today was a good day.