The other day my friend from work, Evan, made me a MixCd called the Macho Manly Mix. Yeah he is not really that great with titles but whatever it was very nice of him.
Evan, the object of Kat's obsession, just returned to the states a few weeks ago from a weird survival retreat in South America. I've been calling it the 'retreat only really wealthy young people can take' because let's be honest for a moment. I have never been in a position where I can go on a retreat (spiritual or survival isque) just because I want to.
In any case, when he returned with a grizzly man beard and thinner I knew that I wanted to make him a Mix. Especially because I'd been such an ass towards him this summer. Especially during our Nerd Day Extravaganza in the city.
I compiled a bunch of songs that came out during his 4 month absence and gave it to him a week ago. He really liked it and in turn made me a mix. I spent the whole weekend listening to it, trying to find the time in my recently hectic schedule to listen to each track. And it's pretty manly. Johnny Cash, The Clash, some guy named Jamie T. The Heavy. I could go on....
I was listening to his mixcd in the break room the other day when Blue came in and plopped down next to me. Me and Blue are doing okay. But I think that is the extent of our relationship. A lot of it has to do with the New Years Eve fiasco but mainly we haven't really taken our 'relationship' anywhere. We are a couple of confused people in a stalled car not really sure what to do next.
But I don't think he is on to this. I think he is just a 23 year old guy who still doesn't really understand girls. I don't think boys ever will. And I only say this because I don't think I will ever understand guys.
So as I am listening to my mix Blue grabs my ipod to see what I am listening to. I let him in on the fact that Evan made me a really cool mix full of manly songs and that it is pretty masculine.
Since his return I have put behind me any feelings of jealousy and anger towards Evan. I feel guilty about the month or two I spent giving him the stank eye.
Before Kat became interested in Evan, me and him we were pretty good work friends. We talked about music, books and television any time we got a chance to. He revealed his dyslexia to me and I revealed my anxiety to him. We get along really well because while I am all sorts of anxious and self conscious he is the polar opposite yet patient. I like him in a platonic 'i think girls and guys can actually be friends' kind of way.
And their relationship sort of ruined it. Because Kat invested all her energy in making sure Evan was her 'friend' and not mine. It was brutal.
But that was the past and his manly macho mix was an ode to the mix I made him the week before and to our efforts to be friends again. Which is going well, I must say. His Macho Manly Mix helped a bunch. Being a boy is hard.
I say this to Blue in the breakroom and then we get into a not so intense conversation about gender; mainly girls and femininity and Blue said something along the lines of 'well you don't have to worry about that because you aren't a typical feminine girl anyway"
What could you mean Blue?
"I mean typical girls are complicated and moody. And drive us (guys) crazy."
Go on. Continue to dig your hole sir
"You don't want to be like that. You know, like a girl and all"
No Blue. Any way you put it I do want to be a girl that a boy finds attractive and complicated. I want to drive you guys crazy with my moody girliness. I don't want to be given a backhanded compliment from someone who acknowledges that I am a girl but not a typical one. And this is not a compliment. If I were to say 'don't worry Blue I don't really think of you as a masculine guy' he would have been up in arms. He would have felt castrated and emasculated. It works the same way for chicks.
When I hear 'you are not a typical girl' I think of all the depictions of the lonely girl who pines after her best guy friend as he pursues...well the typical girly girl. I think of the tomboyish chick who can carry a conversation with the guys but who always ends up never getting pursued by one. And sure most of the time the girl eventually ends up with a person who sees her for who she is. But damn it all to hell, for once I'd be okay being a single typical 20 something year old female. For once.
I sort of said 'thanks' with a questionable question mark at the end of the thanks but he seemed pleased with himself at his observation. And 20 minutes later he asked"why don't you ear earrings".
I said because my ear lobes are sensitive and earrings hurt.
He smiled and said:
See a typical girl wouldn't say that. You should work on that.
I'm starting to think that Blue may have a talking to girls deficiency. There can be no other answer.
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Little Miss Out of Sorts
I'd first like to say that yesterday we got a new addition to the Hughes family. His name is Elliot Bradley Hughes to be exact and my mom, brother and I are over the moon with excitement.
I was in the supermarket when I got the news. A friend and I from work thought we'd embark on a simple trip to the supermarket upstairs to gather things to make beef stew. Well so his girlfriend can make beef stew and so we could eat it this weekend. We gathered all the necessary items except for some slow cooker seasoning thing we couldn't find.
We were in there for an hour (I kid you not). Going up and down every aisle with no luck. We asked the 16 year old employees where we could find it, but they all looked at us in sad confusion. We petitioned customers to help us but it's new york and everyone sort of gave us the stank eye.
By the 45 minute mark we were both hungry, cranky and annoyed. I came up with the brilliant idea to call my mom because moms know where everything is.
Friend: But she lives in South Carolina
Me: Doesn't matter. Moms have a weird sixth sense about grocery stores. She'll know what aisle we need to look in trust me.
So i dial her up but she answered in a whisper like one of those ladies from a lifetime movie being held captive but the dangerously attractive thug (i spent a great chunk of my weekend watching lifetime. I apologize). Then she said "hey, I'm in the hospital" which immediately sent me into a near panic even though we have been on baby watch since my brothers girlfriend was admitted to the hospital on Monday.
"She had the baby Beckett. You're an aunt!"
There a pause from me, general happiness and baby cooing in the back, and then a growl from my stomach.
"That's awesome mom. I can't wait to hear all about it when I get home.... but can you tell me where I could buy beef stew seasoning in a supermarket....."
And that is how I will remember his day of birth. He'll always remind me of Beef Stew. Welcome to the family Kid.
I've been a a little off this week. Nervous, anxious and full of snark. I have hit a wall with the job search and am utterly frustrated with my lack of money situation. I haven't heard anything back from the places I applied to and am sulking in a general feelings of incompetency. I know I am not suppose to take this to heart. But I need to be making more money in the next few months. It is as simple as that.
These general life anxieties have made me very tired and this week has a big blur of trying to make it to the next day unscathed. My naps are long, my moods are a swinging and the cold weather is not helping. It's suppose to snow again tomorrow (something I look forward to) but I have to close tomorrow night (something I do not look forward to) so traveling in the ice and snow will not be fun.
I remain optimistic that things will work themselves out. This brand new edition to our family represents that in some way. I just don't know how much longer I have to endure being a broke before it does. I sometimes find myself highly envious of people for the ease with which they seem to accomplish things.
There is a kid at work who we call the golden boy because though he has only been working there for four months, he is already a head cashier. The idea that he, only 19, could be making more money than me is heartbreaking. Not only that but i am offended when high school students apply to Le Sad Store because it puts my job in prospective even though we rarely hire them.
Anyway, Golden Boy is uber attractive. He is James Franco. Not even a little bit. Not even sort of kind of. If you've seen James Franco in Howl or the James Dean this is what this kid looks like. And knowing James Franco track record I wouldn't be surprised if I was working with the actual James Franco. Golden Boy is uber nice and smart and he carries a moleskin journal in his back pocket. He is swoon worthy and confidant, the good looks play a part, and within a month he was promoted to a position that only 2 other people (both over 23. both who've been employed by Le Sad Store for quite some time: Blue being one of them) have.
And he's so full of life. And that's not because he's 19. It's because this is a kid who has never faced rejection (at least in my mind). He's the sort of guy who has always gotten his way. And sometimes it is frustrating to talk to him, even though he is a class A guy. Because when someone has never heard the words 'no' their perspective can be a little to Carpe Diem for me. I am all about seizing the day but I have had to work for everything I have ever wanted with iron fists.
I am and will always been the underdog. A role I am proud and frustrated with.
Anyway.
I need a break from the stress of life at the moment. I have a day off today and will spend it reading nerdy books about butterflies. My newest obsession. I finally mailed off the Mix Cd's today because by Tuesday I meant Wednesday and by Wednesday I meant Thursday and by Thursday I meant "get out of bed and mail these things off woman". So they are finally in the mail a few days later than I had planned but still on there way.
Time to relax
~Becks
I was in the supermarket when I got the news. A friend and I from work thought we'd embark on a simple trip to the supermarket upstairs to gather things to make beef stew. Well so his girlfriend can make beef stew and so we could eat it this weekend. We gathered all the necessary items except for some slow cooker seasoning thing we couldn't find.
We were in there for an hour (I kid you not). Going up and down every aisle with no luck. We asked the 16 year old employees where we could find it, but they all looked at us in sad confusion. We petitioned customers to help us but it's new york and everyone sort of gave us the stank eye.
By the 45 minute mark we were both hungry, cranky and annoyed. I came up with the brilliant idea to call my mom because moms know where everything is.
Friend: But she lives in South Carolina
Me: Doesn't matter. Moms have a weird sixth sense about grocery stores. She'll know what aisle we need to look in trust me.
So i dial her up but she answered in a whisper like one of those ladies from a lifetime movie being held captive but the dangerously attractive thug (i spent a great chunk of my weekend watching lifetime. I apologize). Then she said "hey, I'm in the hospital" which immediately sent me into a near panic even though we have been on baby watch since my brothers girlfriend was admitted to the hospital on Monday.
"She had the baby Beckett. You're an aunt!"
There a pause from me, general happiness and baby cooing in the back, and then a growl from my stomach.
"That's awesome mom. I can't wait to hear all about it when I get home.... but can you tell me where I could buy beef stew seasoning in a supermarket....."
And that is how I will remember his day of birth. He'll always remind me of Beef Stew. Welcome to the family Kid.
I've been a a little off this week. Nervous, anxious and full of snark. I have hit a wall with the job search and am utterly frustrated with my lack of money situation. I haven't heard anything back from the places I applied to and am sulking in a general feelings of incompetency. I know I am not suppose to take this to heart. But I need to be making more money in the next few months. It is as simple as that.
These general life anxieties have made me very tired and this week has a big blur of trying to make it to the next day unscathed. My naps are long, my moods are a swinging and the cold weather is not helping. It's suppose to snow again tomorrow (something I look forward to) but I have to close tomorrow night (something I do not look forward to) so traveling in the ice and snow will not be fun.
I remain optimistic that things will work themselves out. This brand new edition to our family represents that in some way. I just don't know how much longer I have to endure being a broke before it does. I sometimes find myself highly envious of people for the ease with which they seem to accomplish things.
There is a kid at work who we call the golden boy because though he has only been working there for four months, he is already a head cashier. The idea that he, only 19, could be making more money than me is heartbreaking. Not only that but i am offended when high school students apply to Le Sad Store because it puts my job in prospective even though we rarely hire them.
Anyway, Golden Boy is uber attractive. He is James Franco. Not even a little bit. Not even sort of kind of. If you've seen James Franco in Howl or the James Dean this is what this kid looks like. And knowing James Franco track record I wouldn't be surprised if I was working with the actual James Franco. Golden Boy is uber nice and smart and he carries a moleskin journal in his back pocket. He is swoon worthy and confidant, the good looks play a part, and within a month he was promoted to a position that only 2 other people (both over 23. both who've been employed by Le Sad Store for quite some time: Blue being one of them) have.
And he's so full of life. And that's not because he's 19. It's because this is a kid who has never faced rejection (at least in my mind). He's the sort of guy who has always gotten his way. And sometimes it is frustrating to talk to him, even though he is a class A guy. Because when someone has never heard the words 'no' their perspective can be a little to Carpe Diem for me. I am all about seizing the day but I have had to work for everything I have ever wanted with iron fists.
I am and will always been the underdog. A role I am proud and frustrated with.
Anyway.
I need a break from the stress of life at the moment. I have a day off today and will spend it reading nerdy books about butterflies. My newest obsession. I finally mailed off the Mix Cd's today because by Tuesday I meant Wednesday and by Wednesday I meant Thursday and by Thursday I meant "get out of bed and mail these things off woman". So they are finally in the mail a few days later than I had planned but still on there way.
Time to relax
~Becks
Sunday, January 16, 2011
Music!
So I may or may not have forgotten that tomorrow is MLK jr day. I apologize both to MLK Jr's legacy and to the those of you participating in the Mix Cd Extravaganza( because I made the deadline for sending these out on a government holiday. My bad). I do believe the post office will be closed tomorrow so I won't be able to send out Cd's until Tuesday, which in all honesty is a good thing for me. You can send yours out anytime this week, even Saturday if that is the case.
I am uber excited about this years Cd exchange. Last year I was such a novice that I felt iffy about the quality of songs I compiled for you guys. But in a year my musical tastes has...matured. Not changed but definitely a little more mature.
The mixes are more cohesive this year. I took my time adding, deleting and sorting each album very carefully. While it maintains every element of my musical ear in it, the songs are very distinct. A lot of great songs did not make the cut but the ones that did are superb. I can say that with a straight face.
I tried not to bog them down with just one genre of music but I did want it to function as a soundtrack for whoever I was making it for. So yeah, I'm excited I hope you guys are too.
I am almost done with the project as a whole and come Tuesday Mix Cd's will be sent off.
Yay!
~Becks
I am uber excited about this years Cd exchange. Last year I was such a novice that I felt iffy about the quality of songs I compiled for you guys. But in a year my musical tastes has...matured. Not changed but definitely a little more mature.
The mixes are more cohesive this year. I took my time adding, deleting and sorting each album very carefully. While it maintains every element of my musical ear in it, the songs are very distinct. A lot of great songs did not make the cut but the ones that did are superb. I can say that with a straight face.
I tried not to bog them down with just one genre of music but I did want it to function as a soundtrack for whoever I was making it for. So yeah, I'm excited I hope you guys are too.
I am almost done with the project as a whole and come Tuesday Mix Cd's will be sent off.
Yay!
~Becks
Saturday, January 15, 2011
Just A Glimpse.
Today I had a day off.
This is almost unheard of in my life right now. I haven't had a proper Saturday off in....forever and I have spent the last couple of days preparing for today's momentous lounge fest.
I cleaned my room. I checked out nerd books from the library and got my hands on a copy of Garden State to watch this evening. All in all it's actually been a really good, productive day. When I was in school I spent my weekends hibernating. I'd go to the campus bookstore and pick up treats before heading to the sandwich shop down the road. I'd come back to my very messy dorm room and relax. I forgot how much I truly missed those days until today.
The other night at work I calculated that I will need to pull in a modest 600 bucks a week with a big people's job in order to stay afloat here in New York. I calculated this because along with planning to spend most of my day in very comfy pj's I wanted to spend another chunk figuring things out.
By the summer I will need a job. There is no way around it. I have to start paying back loans soon and the money I make now is more of an allowance than anything else. The thought of having to return home because of financial reasons frightens me. It would feel like Philadelphia all over again. And despite the days I talk smack about New York, I really enjoy living here. It's unlike any place I've ever been and I am developing here as some weird shy, anxious but stronger hybrid of myself.
I do not make anything close to 600/week at Le Sad Store. But if i wish to continue cursing out rude cab drivers (I'm talking to you #107!) and getting lost down some very pretty side streets, I need a plan. A concrete 'I need a suckass entry level job" plan. I composed a pretty swell cover letter for a mid-sized publishing company today and am considering locating a temp agency like place to help with finding employment.
I'm young enough that having two jobs wouldn't take that big of a toll on me, but one that cover just the basics is all I ask for. That seems to be a lot these day.
I often time get lost in the shuffle that is my life, especially with all the worries that invade my thoughts. Transitions are hard for me. So much that I often find myself in a weird state of stasis. I reflect on the past and things that could have been done differently. Other times I find myself trying to imagine the future, setting up such high expectations I have no armor against the failures that may occur.
I sometimes wish there were a 'Just A Glimpse' button. Where I could catch just a sneak peek at what life has in store for me, or in retrospect, how it could have been different give or take a couple of costly decisions.
I bring this up because a week ago my brother received an email from the man who basically raised us. When I was 5 my mom started dating a man who would come to be a surrogate father to my brother and I. His name was James, and I rarely talk about him on this here journal because I don't want to denounce the huge impact my dad has had on me.
It's what happens when your parents divorce and begin dating someone else. No matter how great the significant other is you can't admit that to your parents. I remember when things between my mom and James got so serious that my mom introduced him to my dad as she was dropping my brother and I off for a weekend at his house.
They were both very cordial (something my dad is not good at) and exchanged "nice to meet you" 'same here" but the moment my mom and James left my dad said "he's not all that great you know" in a throw away sentence sort of way. And despite my absolute adoration for James and the nice things he'd done for us thus far I said "yeah. he's sort of a nerd. you are way cooler".
But the truth is, while I love and respect and can't imagine my dad not being my dad, James raised me. My mom started dating him when I was in Kindergarten and they broke things off when I was 12 and a half. He is a huge chunk of my childhood.
He came to all of my violin recitals and birthday parties and spent holidays with us. He taught my brother and I how to ride bikes, helped with homework and disciplined us as much as he could. And I was his right hand man. He was the adult I preferred the most because he never broke a promise, was always there when I needed him and danced with us to some weird music in the car.
My mom and his split was brutal. It seems we were not enough for him. During a break in their relationship he started to see another woman and when him and my mom got back together he continued to see the other woman. When my mom found out, she yelled and screamed and threw things and we didn't see James for awhile. They eventually got back together and remained a couple for a few more years but when my mom was offered a job down south....he didn't stop her from leaving.
And my mom sort of banked on him asking us to stay. For him to ask us to become one big family. We already got along with his kids and my mom in turn was there surrogate mother. He inherited a huge house from his father where we all would have fit. So sometimes we were hardheaded, and my brother and I could duke it out like enemies. But I wanted to be his daughter, as much as I wanted my mom to be his wife and my brother his son.
And the morning that we left for South Carolina, I kept begging him with my eyes to ask us to stay. To choose us over everyone else. To choose me as his daughter. And he didn't. He just let us go.
And I can't help but associate my current issues with inadequacy and disassociation with my belief that he rejected us for something/one better. I have more issues with this than anything else.
So when he reconnected with my brother a week ago on facebook, we were all shocked and curious. The email was short and simple. His mother, who battled health issues for as long as I can remember, died this fall. He still lived in Westchester, only 40 minutes from where I stay and wanted to see how we were doing. Mainly though, he regretted the choices he made in regards to us because 'you, beckett and your mom' were the best thing that has ever happened to me.
Love James.
Because of this I have spent the last couple of days doing the latter of my neurotic thinking. I can't help but wonder who we, as a family, would have been if he'd said this all those years ago. Just as my mom blue caravan was rolling out of the apartment parking lot.
Would I be so anxious now? Would I feel so directionless? Would I see myself in a better light instead of in a self critical one? In my dreams I beg for a glimpse of this alternate version. Just a teeny glimpse where we staying in New York. Where I continued the awkwardness that is middle school with my band of theater and orchestra friends. Would I have been such an angry miserable teen who became an anxious and lonely college student? Would I be on the brink of having an extraordinary life though I continue to have thoughts that I am not worthy of it because there is someone better?
And I know that button would do more harm then good. I know that there is no going back and my life is my life for a reason. But sometimes on very lovely days off when I realize that I am 24 year old Beckett at a crossroads job, relationship and happiness wise, I can't but wonder how things would have turned out if he'd taken a chance on us.
I guess I'm not the only one.
This is almost unheard of in my life right now. I haven't had a proper Saturday off in....forever and I have spent the last couple of days preparing for today's momentous lounge fest.
I cleaned my room. I checked out nerd books from the library and got my hands on a copy of Garden State to watch this evening. All in all it's actually been a really good, productive day. When I was in school I spent my weekends hibernating. I'd go to the campus bookstore and pick up treats before heading to the sandwich shop down the road. I'd come back to my very messy dorm room and relax. I forgot how much I truly missed those days until today.
The other night at work I calculated that I will need to pull in a modest 600 bucks a week with a big people's job in order to stay afloat here in New York. I calculated this because along with planning to spend most of my day in very comfy pj's I wanted to spend another chunk figuring things out.
By the summer I will need a job. There is no way around it. I have to start paying back loans soon and the money I make now is more of an allowance than anything else. The thought of having to return home because of financial reasons frightens me. It would feel like Philadelphia all over again. And despite the days I talk smack about New York, I really enjoy living here. It's unlike any place I've ever been and I am developing here as some weird shy, anxious but stronger hybrid of myself.
I do not make anything close to 600/week at Le Sad Store. But if i wish to continue cursing out rude cab drivers (I'm talking to you #107!) and getting lost down some very pretty side streets, I need a plan. A concrete 'I need a suckass entry level job" plan. I composed a pretty swell cover letter for a mid-sized publishing company today and am considering locating a temp agency like place to help with finding employment.
I'm young enough that having two jobs wouldn't take that big of a toll on me, but one that cover just the basics is all I ask for. That seems to be a lot these day.
I often time get lost in the shuffle that is my life, especially with all the worries that invade my thoughts. Transitions are hard for me. So much that I often find myself in a weird state of stasis. I reflect on the past and things that could have been done differently. Other times I find myself trying to imagine the future, setting up such high expectations I have no armor against the failures that may occur.
I sometimes wish there were a 'Just A Glimpse' button. Where I could catch just a sneak peek at what life has in store for me, or in retrospect, how it could have been different give or take a couple of costly decisions.
I bring this up because a week ago my brother received an email from the man who basically raised us. When I was 5 my mom started dating a man who would come to be a surrogate father to my brother and I. His name was James, and I rarely talk about him on this here journal because I don't want to denounce the huge impact my dad has had on me.
It's what happens when your parents divorce and begin dating someone else. No matter how great the significant other is you can't admit that to your parents. I remember when things between my mom and James got so serious that my mom introduced him to my dad as she was dropping my brother and I off for a weekend at his house.
They were both very cordial (something my dad is not good at) and exchanged "nice to meet you" 'same here" but the moment my mom and James left my dad said "he's not all that great you know" in a throw away sentence sort of way. And despite my absolute adoration for James and the nice things he'd done for us thus far I said "yeah. he's sort of a nerd. you are way cooler".
But the truth is, while I love and respect and can't imagine my dad not being my dad, James raised me. My mom started dating him when I was in Kindergarten and they broke things off when I was 12 and a half. He is a huge chunk of my childhood.
He came to all of my violin recitals and birthday parties and spent holidays with us. He taught my brother and I how to ride bikes, helped with homework and disciplined us as much as he could. And I was his right hand man. He was the adult I preferred the most because he never broke a promise, was always there when I needed him and danced with us to some weird music in the car.
My mom and his split was brutal. It seems we were not enough for him. During a break in their relationship he started to see another woman and when him and my mom got back together he continued to see the other woman. When my mom found out, she yelled and screamed and threw things and we didn't see James for awhile. They eventually got back together and remained a couple for a few more years but when my mom was offered a job down south....he didn't stop her from leaving.
And my mom sort of banked on him asking us to stay. For him to ask us to become one big family. We already got along with his kids and my mom in turn was there surrogate mother. He inherited a huge house from his father where we all would have fit. So sometimes we were hardheaded, and my brother and I could duke it out like enemies. But I wanted to be his daughter, as much as I wanted my mom to be his wife and my brother his son.
And the morning that we left for South Carolina, I kept begging him with my eyes to ask us to stay. To choose us over everyone else. To choose me as his daughter. And he didn't. He just let us go.
And I can't help but associate my current issues with inadequacy and disassociation with my belief that he rejected us for something/one better. I have more issues with this than anything else.
So when he reconnected with my brother a week ago on facebook, we were all shocked and curious. The email was short and simple. His mother, who battled health issues for as long as I can remember, died this fall. He still lived in Westchester, only 40 minutes from where I stay and wanted to see how we were doing. Mainly though, he regretted the choices he made in regards to us because 'you, beckett and your mom' were the best thing that has ever happened to me.
Love James.
Because of this I have spent the last couple of days doing the latter of my neurotic thinking. I can't help but wonder who we, as a family, would have been if he'd said this all those years ago. Just as my mom blue caravan was rolling out of the apartment parking lot.
Would I be so anxious now? Would I feel so directionless? Would I see myself in a better light instead of in a self critical one? In my dreams I beg for a glimpse of this alternate version. Just a teeny glimpse where we staying in New York. Where I continued the awkwardness that is middle school with my band of theater and orchestra friends. Would I have been such an angry miserable teen who became an anxious and lonely college student? Would I be on the brink of having an extraordinary life though I continue to have thoughts that I am not worthy of it because there is someone better?
And I know that button would do more harm then good. I know that there is no going back and my life is my life for a reason. But sometimes on very lovely days off when I realize that I am 24 year old Beckett at a crossroads job, relationship and happiness wise, I can't but wonder how things would have turned out if he'd taken a chance on us.
I guess I'm not the only one.
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Number 1 Reason Why I Hate My Job...
We open on snow days.
I am so pissed.
The only time I am really struck by the suckassness of my job is when I don't get days off like normal people. No delays. No come in if you can. No options to work from home because I can. No. When you work in retail it is simply about the money. We have to open because the store could lose a considerable amount of money if we don't.
So despite setting up for my snow day in advance last night: cleaning my room, organizing books to read, moving snacks close enough to reach from my bed; I still have to go to work today. It doesn't matter that the sidewalks are not paved and my fingers will be cold. It doesn't matter that I have an uphill, downhill walk to and from work today. And I doubt it McAbs will be there to offer me a ride home.
We must open. Because despite weather that should inspire people to stay home and snuggle against someone close, some jackass will want to go shopping today. And in this town, it's not just some jackass it's a lot of them. Mothers and Fathers who don't know how to entertain their kids, teenagers who have a bloody day off, and the crazy homeless people who sit in the couch life seats all day and then give you the stank eye when you have to remind them that pulling 50 books of the shelf is not necessary.
Good God, I hate my job.
Time to put away the snow day inspired socks I was going to wear. Okay, they are just polka dot socks but nonetheless very warm and fuzzy. Time to turn off the Law and Order marathon. Time to put away the trashy books. And this one had a Duke in it. I've always wanted to meet a Duke or no, maybe a Pirate. No, a Duke.
I'm so pissed.
I am so pissed.
The only time I am really struck by the suckassness of my job is when I don't get days off like normal people. No delays. No come in if you can. No options to work from home because I can. No. When you work in retail it is simply about the money. We have to open because the store could lose a considerable amount of money if we don't.
So despite setting up for my snow day in advance last night: cleaning my room, organizing books to read, moving snacks close enough to reach from my bed; I still have to go to work today. It doesn't matter that the sidewalks are not paved and my fingers will be cold. It doesn't matter that I have an uphill, downhill walk to and from work today. And I doubt it McAbs will be there to offer me a ride home.
We must open. Because despite weather that should inspire people to stay home and snuggle against someone close, some jackass will want to go shopping today. And in this town, it's not just some jackass it's a lot of them. Mothers and Fathers who don't know how to entertain their kids, teenagers who have a bloody day off, and the crazy homeless people who sit in the couch life seats all day and then give you the stank eye when you have to remind them that pulling 50 books of the shelf is not necessary.
Good God, I hate my job.
Time to put away the snow day inspired socks I was going to wear. Okay, they are just polka dot socks but nonetheless very warm and fuzzy. Time to turn off the Law and Order marathon. Time to put away the trashy books. And this one had a Duke in it. I've always wanted to meet a Duke or no, maybe a Pirate. No, a Duke.
I'm so pissed.
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Monday, January 10, 2011
Passive Aggressive is My Middle Name.
Winter is officially kicking my ass.
The last week has been a blur of work, sleep, music mixing (1 more week ladies and gent) and more sleep. That is all now topped with a level of stress because I am only clocking in three days this week. Those three days may soon become 2 if the huge big snowstorm that everyone is talking about actually develops into something Tuesday night.
With four days of a potential break from work (in the works) I am trying to curb the cabin fever before it hits.
I am about 75% done with mixcd exchange extravaganza and I must say the music this year that I have compiled is awesome. It's been a little more difficult trying to find the right songs. As I continue to wear a Mix Cd Newbie badge, I often find myself wanting to do the obvious and put all my favorite songs on my mixes. But then I realize that that is not really a mix. A mix, in some form has to be cohesive. It's like a soundtrack. And by damn I am creating quite the soundtrack(s)
I've recently gotten all sentimental over the movie Garden State again. And not because Zach Braff and Natalie Portman steal my heart in every scene but because the existential, twenty something conundrum is captured so perfectly. I am literally at the crossroads where the past is a place I can't go back to even though I want to and the future seems grey and I fear where I will end up. So I am just here, in the middle, looking fondly on what I had while I assess what I want.
In so many words Garden State is a move about the pains of growing up. About what it is like to not have a grasp on your own existence while trying to forge one out of all the pain. At 24, I cannot even begin to relate how painful being/becoming a older version of myself has been. There are days when I want to crawl back into some time warp where I am 8.
I really need to watch Garden State again.
Anyway, I'm rambling. I've recently gotten all inspired by the movie again because the music on the soundtrack is as awesome as the movie. While most of the more memorable songs are missing, Zach Braff did a hell of a job compiling the soundtrack for Garden State. To this day it remains one of the more inspiring compilations because every song goes together so well.
In Mix Cd land I will never be able to make a concept mix. I don't do well with concrete themes. I have however found a musical niche in regards to creating cohesive soundtracks. I am the Zach Braff of music compilers these days (a lot has changed since making my first mix cd a year ago).
So far the songs for MixCd Extraganza 2011, as a whole, gel together like nerdy friends at the lunch table. And we all know how much I love nerds. I am actually very proud of what I have created this time around. I have to stop re-arranging the playlist every other hour but that's where the perfectionist in me pops out. I will post both tracklists in two weeks and am putting my finishing touch on the project as a whole this week. So yeah, I am uber excited about sending these bad boys out.
That's pretty much all I have planned this week. I'm sort of drained and tired and blah. My feelings of jealousy, inadequacy and general suckassness is at the forefront these days and I am doing all I can to keep it at bay. And I am having night terrors again. I am not a fan of them because I only have bad dreams when I am stressed. The music mixing has helped a lot but serious down time is much needed.
In other news
I approached Blue the other day about being upset with him. It was weird and passive and didn't go as well as I thought it would. He came up to me very tentatively as I was going over merchandise in the game department (another new task bestowed on me by management). He stood next to me and said "how's it going" very quietly. I said things were going all right and then went back to my clipboard and project.
He started walking away when I stopped him and said that we needed to have a small talk. Nothing serious, I just wanted to address the awkwardness. I thought i was going to tell him that I was pissed that he invited and then uninvited me to his New Years Eve party and that I was looking forward to hanging out with him until backed out of plans. That's what I planned to say.
Instead I sort of fumbled for words and said that I didn't like that he called me consistent. Yeah, I went that route. I know, I know. I should have been more direct. But he was being such a boy. Cute and nervous and totally oblivious to the fact that I was angry at him. He turned all red and said "if I apologize would that make you feel better"
Le Sigh. Yes Blue it would, if you knew what I was really mad at you about. Sure an apology would be great. So then he proceeded to fumble and apologize for calling me consistent. "some people find consistent to be a compliment. It's like being quaint. not that i'm calling you quaint, unless you like the word quaint...i'm sorry beckett".
We were standing next to each other and facing a display of games as we spoke. Our words sort of bounced off of puzzles and games and fell to the floor. It felt as if I was confessing my displeasure with Monopoly as he was apologizing to Life. We were utterly disconnected and trying to do this as quick as possible so that we could go back to normal.
And like that I tucked my real feelings back into my skin and he skipped away and continued to be Blue. It's all so frustrating when I really sit back and think about it.
For the next few days I won't though. I'll focus on me. I got a bunch of trashy romantic suspense stories to read in preparation for the big storm on Wednesday. Nothing warms my heart more than campy romance novels and hot detectives.
The last week has been a blur of work, sleep, music mixing (1 more week ladies and gent) and more sleep. That is all now topped with a level of stress because I am only clocking in three days this week. Those three days may soon become 2 if the huge big snowstorm that everyone is talking about actually develops into something Tuesday night.
With four days of a potential break from work (in the works) I am trying to curb the cabin fever before it hits.
I am about 75% done with mixcd exchange extravaganza and I must say the music this year that I have compiled is awesome. It's been a little more difficult trying to find the right songs. As I continue to wear a Mix Cd Newbie badge, I often find myself wanting to do the obvious and put all my favorite songs on my mixes. But then I realize that that is not really a mix. A mix, in some form has to be cohesive. It's like a soundtrack. And by damn I am creating quite the soundtrack(s)
I've recently gotten all sentimental over the movie Garden State again. And not because Zach Braff and Natalie Portman steal my heart in every scene but because the existential, twenty something conundrum is captured so perfectly. I am literally at the crossroads where the past is a place I can't go back to even though I want to and the future seems grey and I fear where I will end up. So I am just here, in the middle, looking fondly on what I had while I assess what I want.
In so many words Garden State is a move about the pains of growing up. About what it is like to not have a grasp on your own existence while trying to forge one out of all the pain. At 24, I cannot even begin to relate how painful being/becoming a older version of myself has been. There are days when I want to crawl back into some time warp where I am 8.
I really need to watch Garden State again.
Anyway, I'm rambling. I've recently gotten all inspired by the movie again because the music on the soundtrack is as awesome as the movie. While most of the more memorable songs are missing, Zach Braff did a hell of a job compiling the soundtrack for Garden State. To this day it remains one of the more inspiring compilations because every song goes together so well.
In Mix Cd land I will never be able to make a concept mix. I don't do well with concrete themes. I have however found a musical niche in regards to creating cohesive soundtracks. I am the Zach Braff of music compilers these days (a lot has changed since making my first mix cd a year ago).
So far the songs for MixCd Extraganza 2011, as a whole, gel together like nerdy friends at the lunch table. And we all know how much I love nerds. I am actually very proud of what I have created this time around. I have to stop re-arranging the playlist every other hour but that's where the perfectionist in me pops out. I will post both tracklists in two weeks and am putting my finishing touch on the project as a whole this week. So yeah, I am uber excited about sending these bad boys out.
That's pretty much all I have planned this week. I'm sort of drained and tired and blah. My feelings of jealousy, inadequacy and general suckassness is at the forefront these days and I am doing all I can to keep it at bay. And I am having night terrors again. I am not a fan of them because I only have bad dreams when I am stressed. The music mixing has helped a lot but serious down time is much needed.
In other news
I approached Blue the other day about being upset with him. It was weird and passive and didn't go as well as I thought it would. He came up to me very tentatively as I was going over merchandise in the game department (another new task bestowed on me by management). He stood next to me and said "how's it going" very quietly. I said things were going all right and then went back to my clipboard and project.
He started walking away when I stopped him and said that we needed to have a small talk. Nothing serious, I just wanted to address the awkwardness. I thought i was going to tell him that I was pissed that he invited and then uninvited me to his New Years Eve party and that I was looking forward to hanging out with him until backed out of plans. That's what I planned to say.
Instead I sort of fumbled for words and said that I didn't like that he called me consistent. Yeah, I went that route. I know, I know. I should have been more direct. But he was being such a boy. Cute and nervous and totally oblivious to the fact that I was angry at him. He turned all red and said "if I apologize would that make you feel better"
Le Sigh. Yes Blue it would, if you knew what I was really mad at you about. Sure an apology would be great. So then he proceeded to fumble and apologize for calling me consistent. "some people find consistent to be a compliment. It's like being quaint. not that i'm calling you quaint, unless you like the word quaint...i'm sorry beckett".
We were standing next to each other and facing a display of games as we spoke. Our words sort of bounced off of puzzles and games and fell to the floor. It felt as if I was confessing my displeasure with Monopoly as he was apologizing to Life. We were utterly disconnected and trying to do this as quick as possible so that we could go back to normal.
And like that I tucked my real feelings back into my skin and he skipped away and continued to be Blue. It's all so frustrating when I really sit back and think about it.
For the next few days I won't though. I'll focus on me. I got a bunch of trashy romantic suspense stories to read in preparation for the big storm on Wednesday. Nothing warms my heart more than campy romance novels and hot detectives.
Tuesday, January 04, 2011
Blue Boy
Thank god for days off.
The New Year was ushered in on rocky terms to say the least. The last few days have been a blur of bookselling, applying to jobs and sleeping. A lot of sleeping combined with general angst towards the Boy formerly known as Blue.
I want to reiterate how lame it was of him to un-invite me to his party. When I woke up on New Years Eve I had my plans set. Work, Blue's party and then off to my aunts for some family time. I was actually looking forward to Blue's party. I am not the easiest person to know. I am secretive and withdrawn. I am elusive and flighty. But once I am yours, dammit I am yours. It just takes a little time. And in some weird way I thought inviting me to his 'friends only' party was a way of him saying he was letting me in to his life in a weird way.
I'm such a girl.
Ever since he said those really nice words to me, I've gone back and forth between whether I like him or like him. I put myself out there by sharing my story ideas with him, going to see movies and such, playing dumb ass Dungeons and Dragons to pass time with him. But to be honest, outside of that really weird day where he said I had sparkly eyes, he has never hinted at anything romantic. He has in some ways treated me like the boyish girl friend from all those 80/90's teen flick. The one who wears her heart on her sleeve while her wayward and distant friend pines for another chick.
Sure we've made a connection of sorts. But he's Blue. Kat likes him, Jenn nearly molested him once or twice, and he and a new girl at work who has a name that sounds like a musical instrument are uber friendly these days. Often times, I felt...utterly average around him. As if he is use to this sort of attention from girls.
The debate on whether boys and girls, men and women, can ever truly be friends is very interesting now that I am in my 20's. I do believe it is possible (though very tricky) but only after weeding out if you are attracted to them on a romantic level. I don't think there has ever been a guy friend that I didn't at least once wonder about dating. Sometimes seriously and sometimes nonchalantly. It just depends I guess.
And I'm still not sure of my level of interest in Blue. I liked him. Yes. I enjoyed hanging out with him. Yes. I would have given it a shot if he pursued. But he never did. And I was simply in that time honored position of 'interest'. In wondering half heartily what dating him would feel like.
I thought often of how we would get along without his friends and people from work around. The texts, phone calls and IM messages we would engage in. The places I would drag him too and the long never ending conversations I would have with him about history. He's a huge history nerd. I imagined the car rides and the music we'd listen to, the dumb dates we'd go on and the several potential first for me. It was all terribly normal stuff, but the idea of it being new was the most exciting thing of all. The idea of having someone interested in me was...nice.
So this whole New Years Eve thing is more perplexing than sad. I am more mad than anything else. For wanting Blue to want me, I guess. For wanting him to invite me into his life outside of the bookstore and random hang outs. And it didn't help that it was no big deal to him. At all. He spent the rest of the evening suggesting other plans for me AND he called me consistent. He was sooo ready to leave that night that he got on my case because i wasn't cleaning the store fast enough.
'some people have things to do after work Beckett. You guys can't clean the store a little faster"
So i replied: "Chill out. Even if we don't have plans after work some of us would like to get out of here too"
"That's why I like you Beckett. You're so consistent" he smiled, and then walked away.
I'm consistent! Because I never have any plans after work. Consistent. Because I never have anyone waiting on me. Consistent.
Blue can kiss my ass.
I ignored him on Saturday. He came and asked me what I did that night. I told him I babysat and made snowflakes then walked away with a huge visible chip on my shoulder. I was even more distant on Sunday,to the point where he realized I was angry with him.
But I don't do angry well. I am hurt by Blue but I don't want to be a bitch towards him. Being a bitch just makes me feel guilty for caring. But things will be different. He does not take me as seriously as I thought. After this whole thing I feel like a big joke to Blue. Like a sweet young kid whose hair he can ruffle but whose interest are very platonic or worse.
So yeah. I'll have to figure something out. I don't know how to deal with this situation. But my anger towards him means something. It means that somewhere I cared or still care. Oh, Blue.
In order unrelated news MixCd Extravaganza is in full force. Apparently it's just me, Frogboots and Mary Poppins participating this year (come on people, free music!!!). But that's cool. I'm hard at work on some very good cd's, accompanied by some art related material to go with it.
Packages should be sent out the 17th ladies, I do hope you enjoy the mixes I make for you this year, as I will no doubt enjoy the songs you have compiled for me.
I'm really excited about this exchange. It's a great way to kick off this year.
The New Year was ushered in on rocky terms to say the least. The last few days have been a blur of bookselling, applying to jobs and sleeping. A lot of sleeping combined with general angst towards the Boy formerly known as Blue.
I want to reiterate how lame it was of him to un-invite me to his party. When I woke up on New Years Eve I had my plans set. Work, Blue's party and then off to my aunts for some family time. I was actually looking forward to Blue's party. I am not the easiest person to know. I am secretive and withdrawn. I am elusive and flighty. But once I am yours, dammit I am yours. It just takes a little time. And in some weird way I thought inviting me to his 'friends only' party was a way of him saying he was letting me in to his life in a weird way.
I'm such a girl.
Ever since he said those really nice words to me, I've gone back and forth between whether I like him or like him. I put myself out there by sharing my story ideas with him, going to see movies and such, playing dumb ass Dungeons and Dragons to pass time with him. But to be honest, outside of that really weird day where he said I had sparkly eyes, he has never hinted at anything romantic. He has in some ways treated me like the boyish girl friend from all those 80/90's teen flick. The one who wears her heart on her sleeve while her wayward and distant friend pines for another chick.
Sure we've made a connection of sorts. But he's Blue. Kat likes him, Jenn nearly molested him once or twice, and he and a new girl at work who has a name that sounds like a musical instrument are uber friendly these days. Often times, I felt...utterly average around him. As if he is use to this sort of attention from girls.
The debate on whether boys and girls, men and women, can ever truly be friends is very interesting now that I am in my 20's. I do believe it is possible (though very tricky) but only after weeding out if you are attracted to them on a romantic level. I don't think there has ever been a guy friend that I didn't at least once wonder about dating. Sometimes seriously and sometimes nonchalantly. It just depends I guess.
And I'm still not sure of my level of interest in Blue. I liked him. Yes. I enjoyed hanging out with him. Yes. I would have given it a shot if he pursued. But he never did. And I was simply in that time honored position of 'interest'. In wondering half heartily what dating him would feel like.
I thought often of how we would get along without his friends and people from work around. The texts, phone calls and IM messages we would engage in. The places I would drag him too and the long never ending conversations I would have with him about history. He's a huge history nerd. I imagined the car rides and the music we'd listen to, the dumb dates we'd go on and the several potential first for me. It was all terribly normal stuff, but the idea of it being new was the most exciting thing of all. The idea of having someone interested in me was...nice.
So this whole New Years Eve thing is more perplexing than sad. I am more mad than anything else. For wanting Blue to want me, I guess. For wanting him to invite me into his life outside of the bookstore and random hang outs. And it didn't help that it was no big deal to him. At all. He spent the rest of the evening suggesting other plans for me AND he called me consistent. He was sooo ready to leave that night that he got on my case because i wasn't cleaning the store fast enough.
'some people have things to do after work Beckett. You guys can't clean the store a little faster"
So i replied: "Chill out. Even if we don't have plans after work some of us would like to get out of here too"
"That's why I like you Beckett. You're so consistent" he smiled, and then walked away.
I'm consistent! Because I never have any plans after work. Consistent. Because I never have anyone waiting on me. Consistent.
Blue can kiss my ass.
I ignored him on Saturday. He came and asked me what I did that night. I told him I babysat and made snowflakes then walked away with a huge visible chip on my shoulder. I was even more distant on Sunday,to the point where he realized I was angry with him.
But I don't do angry well. I am hurt by Blue but I don't want to be a bitch towards him. Being a bitch just makes me feel guilty for caring. But things will be different. He does not take me as seriously as I thought. After this whole thing I feel like a big joke to Blue. Like a sweet young kid whose hair he can ruffle but whose interest are very platonic or worse.
So yeah. I'll have to figure something out. I don't know how to deal with this situation. But my anger towards him means something. It means that somewhere I cared or still care. Oh, Blue.
In order unrelated news MixCd Extravaganza is in full force. Apparently it's just me, Frogboots and Mary Poppins participating this year (come on people, free music!!!). But that's cool. I'm hard at work on some very good cd's, accompanied by some art related material to go with it.
Packages should be sent out the 17th ladies, I do hope you enjoy the mixes I make for you this year, as I will no doubt enjoy the songs you have compiled for me.
I'm really excited about this exchange. It's a great way to kick off this year.
Sunday, January 02, 2011
One Day At A Time.
To me, this whole New Years thing will alway feel like the first day of school.
I remember when I was a kid the new year meant that I could reinvent myself. That with a request for new clothes, school accessories and hairdo, I could walk into my same Middle/ High School a change girl.
Up until the 11th grade, every new school year started with a list of things I would do differently. I would dress better in order to fit in more, *I* would buy, use and keep a planner to be more organized, I would write my a's differently, just like Elizabeth Leslie the pretty popular girl in my English class, who topped her a's with a fancy curve.
I would drop out of the Media Club (formerly known as the AV club) for a more dignified extracurricular activity...volleyball or journalism club.
I enacted plans to in order to make sure that I would be a new me for the new school year. I'd spend hours in my room perfecting my penmanship (which is why i have pretty writing today). I exercised during summer breaks to slim down, bought teen vogue and seventeen magazine for clothing and makeup tips. I listened to the radio because girls my age weren't into Sarah Mclachlan and Talk Talk (and those who were worse off in school, socially, than I was). Fuck I even bought a Britney Spears album. I listened to it once.
All of these things would not make me popular, I knew this even then. Trust me I didn't even want to be popular. I just didn't want to be me. I didn't want to be the shy, socially awkward, Media Club Beckett. I didn't want to be the nerd girl with nerd friends who spent the weekends at home watching Lifetime movies. To be honest, I wanted to be a better version of me. I wanted to be one of those girls who has her shit together, with a few good friends and a life I didn't hate.
Postscript memory: I remember I had to do a school project once with a girl name Alana. She was a popular cheerleader who drove a Black Honda and wore really nice clothes.It was a group project that required us to drive across town to meet with a principal from our rival high school in order to talk about the differences in our school (i ended up pissing him off because during the meeting he got a call from a parent whose kid was getting bullied. I asked him politely what steps they were taking to deal with school bullying. He went ashen, started to stutter and then requested that I put my pen and paper down and not quote him on anything. Ass).
She offered to drive me and another person from our group to the school and we listened to Pop music with the windows down the whole way. I wanted to be her then. A girl with a driver's license and cool makeup and friends calling her pre-paid cell phone. Being me seemed lame in comparison. I will struggle with this for some time I assume.
So every time the new school year rolled around I'd think that maybe having a prettier notebook or better handwriting would make me...better. Maybe that new sweater would convince the Elizabeth Leslie's and Ethan Farmer's (and Alana's with Hondas) that I was OK after all and I wouldn't feel so inadequate at the end of the school year because I wasn't.
Of course, once school started having those things didn't make a difference. I never used any of the planners I asked for. I went back to wearing raggedy Batman t-shirts from thrift stores and started buying records instead of Cd's. I wrote my a's sans a fancy curve and I was never cut out for volleyball. Too much jumping and argh-ing (the only way i can describe the sound of your team when you miss a hit).
I continued to be awkward and weird. I continued to excel in areas that I didn't want to and subsequently 'fail' in the ones I wanted so badly to be apart of. It wasn't until the 11th grade that I started not to give a shit with reinventing myself, something my mother was grateful for because she could stop buying me new things every year. But as we welcome in another new year I can't help but feel that this is the adult equivalent.
That every year we convince ourselves that by setting goals to alter ourselves the new year will be better. That in an instant we will be ushered into a new life because we changed one or two things about ourselves. Hell I do it every December 31st too, I can't even pretend that I don't. But sometimes I just don't get the point. Sometimes I wonder if the grass on the other side is as green as I think it is. Sometimes I wonder if spending all this time wanting to be a better version of 'me' is really suppressing the only version that matters.
I do have very high hopes for the new year, but this time around it'll be enacted by the same old me. In therapy (something I miss more than I would like to admit) we pinpointed that I have congruency issues. It was the first thing she said during my very first session. That I do not see myself as everyone else does. I walked in her office telling her of my inability to express myself, that I was shy and awkward and weird. That I had issues connecting. At the end of my my 'tirade' she said: It's interesting to hear you say all of these things, because the person you just described is not the person sitting before me.
I was articulate, smart, funny and well rounded. Sure I was showing signs of an anxiety disorder but I was bubbly and a joy to be around. She promised that we would work on congruency. That the two me's would realize they inhabit the same skin and I would stop disassociating the two (this is not to be confused with any form of a dissociative disorder).
And I still am working on this. There are days when I have proclaimed that I am not artistic, smart or even funny. That I am a boring peculiar girl. I have this idea of what being artistic, well rounded, witty and awesome look like and they bear little or no resemblance to me. But I am all of those things when I'm not being hard on myself. I am the person I have always wanted to be, just with some things to work on. Sure I have a bunch of work ahead of me but fuck it if I spend another year trying to be something or one that I'm not.
Everything I have ever wanted I am capable of achieving. I don't have to be someone else (or worse want to be someone else) in order to do so. I just have to come to terms with my skin. I have to allow myself to be me. I have to stop being so damned embarrassed and ashamed for reasons that are still blurry.
This year I am not going to school with the newest shoes. This year I am not going to try and sit at another table. This year I will not try out for the Volleyball team. This year I just want to work on congruency. I want to allow myself to be me for once and not just for the new year because that it too limiting. It's something that I will have to work on every day. one day at a time. One goal at a time. It's time I stopped trying to be who I think I should be and realize that who I am is pretty awesome.
One day at a time.
P.S. Anyway who hasn't sent me an email yet about participating in the CD exchange should shoot me an email tomorrow or Tuesday. I'm making cover art and everything!. You know you want a mixcd! Don't be shy.
I remember when I was a kid the new year meant that I could reinvent myself. That with a request for new clothes, school accessories and hairdo, I could walk into my same Middle/ High School a change girl.
Up until the 11th grade, every new school year started with a list of things I would do differently. I would dress better in order to fit in more, *I* would buy, use and keep a planner to be more organized, I would write my a's differently, just like Elizabeth Leslie the pretty popular girl in my English class, who topped her a's with a fancy curve.
I would drop out of the Media Club (formerly known as the AV club) for a more dignified extracurricular activity...volleyball or journalism club.
I enacted plans to in order to make sure that I would be a new me for the new school year. I'd spend hours in my room perfecting my penmanship (which is why i have pretty writing today). I exercised during summer breaks to slim down, bought teen vogue and seventeen magazine for clothing and makeup tips. I listened to the radio because girls my age weren't into Sarah Mclachlan and Talk Talk (and those who were worse off in school, socially, than I was). Fuck I even bought a Britney Spears album. I listened to it once.
All of these things would not make me popular, I knew this even then. Trust me I didn't even want to be popular. I just didn't want to be me. I didn't want to be the shy, socially awkward, Media Club Beckett. I didn't want to be the nerd girl with nerd friends who spent the weekends at home watching Lifetime movies. To be honest, I wanted to be a better version of me. I wanted to be one of those girls who has her shit together, with a few good friends and a life I didn't hate.
Postscript memory: I remember I had to do a school project once with a girl name Alana. She was a popular cheerleader who drove a Black Honda and wore really nice clothes.It was a group project that required us to drive across town to meet with a principal from our rival high school in order to talk about the differences in our school (i ended up pissing him off because during the meeting he got a call from a parent whose kid was getting bullied. I asked him politely what steps they were taking to deal with school bullying. He went ashen, started to stutter and then requested that I put my pen and paper down and not quote him on anything. Ass).
She offered to drive me and another person from our group to the school and we listened to Pop music with the windows down the whole way. I wanted to be her then. A girl with a driver's license and cool makeup and friends calling her pre-paid cell phone. Being me seemed lame in comparison. I will struggle with this for some time I assume.
So every time the new school year rolled around I'd think that maybe having a prettier notebook or better handwriting would make me...better. Maybe that new sweater would convince the Elizabeth Leslie's and Ethan Farmer's (and Alana's with Hondas) that I was OK after all and I wouldn't feel so inadequate at the end of the school year because I wasn't.
Of course, once school started having those things didn't make a difference. I never used any of the planners I asked for. I went back to wearing raggedy Batman t-shirts from thrift stores and started buying records instead of Cd's. I wrote my a's sans a fancy curve and I was never cut out for volleyball. Too much jumping and argh-ing (the only way i can describe the sound of your team when you miss a hit).
I continued to be awkward and weird. I continued to excel in areas that I didn't want to and subsequently 'fail' in the ones I wanted so badly to be apart of. It wasn't until the 11th grade that I started not to give a shit with reinventing myself, something my mother was grateful for because she could stop buying me new things every year. But as we welcome in another new year I can't help but feel that this is the adult equivalent.
That every year we convince ourselves that by setting goals to alter ourselves the new year will be better. That in an instant we will be ushered into a new life because we changed one or two things about ourselves. Hell I do it every December 31st too, I can't even pretend that I don't. But sometimes I just don't get the point. Sometimes I wonder if the grass on the other side is as green as I think it is. Sometimes I wonder if spending all this time wanting to be a better version of 'me' is really suppressing the only version that matters.
I do have very high hopes for the new year, but this time around it'll be enacted by the same old me. In therapy (something I miss more than I would like to admit) we pinpointed that I have congruency issues. It was the first thing she said during my very first session. That I do not see myself as everyone else does. I walked in her office telling her of my inability to express myself, that I was shy and awkward and weird. That I had issues connecting. At the end of my my 'tirade' she said: It's interesting to hear you say all of these things, because the person you just described is not the person sitting before me.
I was articulate, smart, funny and well rounded. Sure I was showing signs of an anxiety disorder but I was bubbly and a joy to be around. She promised that we would work on congruency. That the two me's would realize they inhabit the same skin and I would stop disassociating the two (this is not to be confused with any form of a dissociative disorder).
And I still am working on this. There are days when I have proclaimed that I am not artistic, smart or even funny. That I am a boring peculiar girl. I have this idea of what being artistic, well rounded, witty and awesome look like and they bear little or no resemblance to me. But I am all of those things when I'm not being hard on myself. I am the person I have always wanted to be, just with some things to work on. Sure I have a bunch of work ahead of me but fuck it if I spend another year trying to be something or one that I'm not.
Everything I have ever wanted I am capable of achieving. I don't have to be someone else (or worse want to be someone else) in order to do so. I just have to come to terms with my skin. I have to allow myself to be me. I have to stop being so damned embarrassed and ashamed for reasons that are still blurry.
This year I am not going to school with the newest shoes. This year I am not going to try and sit at another table. This year I will not try out for the Volleyball team. This year I just want to work on congruency. I want to allow myself to be me for once and not just for the new year because that it too limiting. It's something that I will have to work on every day. one day at a time. One goal at a time. It's time I stopped trying to be who I think I should be and realize that who I am is pretty awesome.
One day at a time.
P.S. Anyway who hasn't sent me an email yet about participating in the CD exchange should shoot me an email tomorrow or Tuesday. I'm making cover art and everything!. You know you want a mixcd! Don't be shy.
Saturday, January 01, 2011
Goodbye 2010.
well the last day of 2010 worked out well for me.
I went to work believing that I would work until 6, go to Blue's New Years Eve Bash until 9:30 and then go to my aunt's house to make cupcakes with my baby cousin and watch the ball drop from Times Square on TV.
One of those things did not happen because Blue uninvited me from his party. I. shit. You. Not.
I am too pissed right now to go over the details. But I'll sum it up quickly.
He pretended as if he never asked me to go to his dumb party. When I got to work today he asked me what I had planned for New Years Eve. I sort of gave him a puzzled look like 'going to your New Years Eve part silly. What do you mean what I am doing tonight"
But I didn't want to say that out loud and let him know that I had thought of how I would conduct myself at his part for weeks, and even spent all of last night picking out an outfit. So I played along, because I didn't want to embarrass myself by revealing how much I cared that he invited me.
"I don't know. Stuff" I said coyly "New Years Eve stuff maybe".
He then said:
"you should call [ our mutual friend], I hear he is going to have some people over tonight. You could do that"
WTF?! Call [ mutual friend]. What about your party invitation asshat. The one you personally invited me to some 2 weeks ago. The one you said you'd like to see me at.
But I continued to go along with him
"or I could do something else....maybe"
And then this piece of shit says:
"I mean. I'm having a party but I don't know if I can squeeze anymore people in the suite I rented. So, I mean, there's no use inviting you. I mean, I will extend my hand anyway, but you should see what everyone else is doing because with the 15 people I've invited I just don't know about you coming, you might be able to tag along with someone else though"
Heart. Broken. Million. Splintered. Pieces.
Wait. I take that back, my heart is not broken. I was actually mad. Livid. Betrayed.
He spent the rest of the night suggesting other things for me to do. I could go to a bar. Or to another friends party. Or home.
I rolled my eyes and beat him up painfully in my mind. I wanted to cry but mainly I wanted to scream and break things.
I didn't even look at him when we left. I don't think I ever will.
So yeah. 2010. You sucked right until the last day. I hope you burn in hell you piece of crap year.
Sincerely,
Beckett.
P.S. On the bright side my cousin remains a delightful ham and we made mini cupcakes to gorge on while making paper fans and tickling invisible friends. I adore this child.
I went to work believing that I would work until 6, go to Blue's New Years Eve Bash until 9:30 and then go to my aunt's house to make cupcakes with my baby cousin and watch the ball drop from Times Square on TV.
One of those things did not happen because Blue uninvited me from his party. I. shit. You. Not.
I am too pissed right now to go over the details. But I'll sum it up quickly.
He pretended as if he never asked me to go to his dumb party. When I got to work today he asked me what I had planned for New Years Eve. I sort of gave him a puzzled look like 'going to your New Years Eve part silly. What do you mean what I am doing tonight"
But I didn't want to say that out loud and let him know that I had thought of how I would conduct myself at his part for weeks, and even spent all of last night picking out an outfit. So I played along, because I didn't want to embarrass myself by revealing how much I cared that he invited me.
"I don't know. Stuff" I said coyly "New Years Eve stuff maybe".
He then said:
"you should call [ our mutual friend], I hear he is going to have some people over tonight. You could do that"
WTF?! Call [ mutual friend]. What about your party invitation asshat. The one you personally invited me to some 2 weeks ago. The one you said you'd like to see me at.
But I continued to go along with him
"or I could do something else....maybe"
And then this piece of shit says:
"I mean. I'm having a party but I don't know if I can squeeze anymore people in the suite I rented. So, I mean, there's no use inviting you. I mean, I will extend my hand anyway, but you should see what everyone else is doing because with the 15 people I've invited I just don't know about you coming, you might be able to tag along with someone else though"
Heart. Broken. Million. Splintered. Pieces.
Wait. I take that back, my heart is not broken. I was actually mad. Livid. Betrayed.
He spent the rest of the night suggesting other things for me to do. I could go to a bar. Or to another friends party. Or home.
I rolled my eyes and beat him up painfully in my mind. I wanted to cry but mainly I wanted to scream and break things.
I didn't even look at him when we left. I don't think I ever will.
So yeah. 2010. You sucked right until the last day. I hope you burn in hell you piece of crap year.
Sincerely,
Beckett.
P.S. On the bright side my cousin remains a delightful ham and we made mini cupcakes to gorge on while making paper fans and tickling invisible friends. I adore this child.
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