Side Effects of Dealing with Fuckboys

Y'all, the next time I get super bored on Sunday because I am sullen about how lonely I feel these days PLEASE remind me that that does not mean I should unblock certain fuckboy's who were recently banished to fuckboy island because I was feeling sad and despondent and lonely. Deal?

I am so annoyed with myself and lack of will. I recently discovered (aka was told repeatedly by multiple family members and close friends) that I don't set boundaries and this is why people take advantage and smother me to the point of exhaustion. And because I am on this continual journey of self discovery and growth..I naturally sulked as this truth floated to the surface with arrogant buoyancy. Fuck you truths, can you stop being a know it all for like 2 seconds!

There has been a drastic change in my life these last two years and for the first time in a while I feel...alone. Like I did in college, except worse because I now know what I am missing.  I don't have as many friends as I used to and my free time is endless. Gone are the days where I could barely squeeze in time to eat because I was hanging out with friends and dealing with Sean and working two jobs and going to the city every freaking weekend. Suddenly, there are quiet nights at home, weekend running errands and an occasional dinner date with friends if we can find the time to catch up.

But the level of activity has decreased ten-fold partly by my own doing but also because growing up comes with a lot of losses. People settle down, have children, move away and life just goes on. And while I know this, I live this, I must admit I am fucking miserable in my current state. I don't miss Kat or Matt or Sean but i do miss having plans and things to do and people to text regularly. I do miss being needed even though that meant being used.  In retrospect I was almost willing to accept the disrespect and the smothering and the meanness because they filled a space that was so empty before. I was so lonely and then suddenly I wasn't and for once I felt like I belong.

But those relationships weren't healthy: Kat was co-dependent, Sean was a sociopath and Matt...well Matt has narcissistic tendencies and he valued his time and sense of being more than anyone I have ever met. So I wasn't growing and evolving and living the best version of my life with those people in my life but am I living it now? Sure  I  made a swift exit from those relationships but I am now consumed by boredom. Utter boredom.

My day to day consists of: waking up extraordinarily early so i can make the rounds of all my social media accounts. I then get ready for work which involves giving myself a pep talk in the mirror followed by several instances where I utter " i really don't fucking want to go" before i drag myself to work. Then there are 8 hours of desk sitting, filed by maybe an hour of actual work but mainly just sitting and daydreaming and podcast and then music and desk sulking. Then i go home, prepare my lunch and outfit for the next day before falling asleep to ANOTHER Dateline marathon.

This is my life! And I guess this was kind of okay, when my weekends were filled with activity and interactions and friends but now they are sort of just filled with weekly Target runs and then self loathing. I am in such a transitional moment in my life and I am not adapting as well as I wish. I know that things will get better. I know that I am measuring my successes more harshly because FB keeps reminding me that people are "happy" and "coupled up" and living their best lives while I check my message-less phone and eat popcorn for dinner for the second night in a row because I am too lazy to microwave anything.

I know that there is so much in store for me and I just have to be diligent and also patient. But while this occurs, I miss certain things, I want new things, I crave stability while also wanting to just upend the status quo. And yes these are all contradictory wants but I am bored, oh so very bored. I am annoyingly looking for affirmation in all the wrong places and on Sunday after spending most of my day in bed watching another British cooking show, i started making excuses for Matt's poor behavior and disregard and general lack of respect because I feel...alone.

I know this is not a good reason to make any decision and since that lapse in judgment, I have installed all of the block measures again (except for the FB block because there is a 48 hour grace period to mourn your dumb mistake) because I deserve better.  What i wanted, didn't match up with who he was and what he wanted and he was wasting my time which is a huge offense.

The other day I was listening to the  podcast Small Doses by one of my favorite comedians Amanda Seales. She continually drops life gems on her Instagram page that punch me in the stomach with it's relevancy. So naturally it made sense to subscribe to her podcast for weekly advice and life lessons. Yesterday's podcast was about Fuckboys and the literal damage they are inflicting to the dating world. Until recently I did not think Matt fell into this category. He was a nice guy after all, well educated, culturally and socially woke on the surface, and champion for women.

But now that I look back on all of our interactions, I think Matt was the epitome of a Fuckboy because of his nice guy Schick. He'd talk openly about the #Metoo moment and respecting women but than would go into an hour long spiel about he couldn't really like a girl until he had sex with her. He constantly described what he didn't like in women which almost exclusively was looks based. She couldn't be too short, she could only have long hair, she couldn't wear rings (because he preferred bangles), she had to smell a certain way and wear specific colors, she had to also be a brown girl who didn't want to have children nor cats.

Under his "i'm a feminist" facade he constantly crossed sexual boundaries with me, that I let slide. He was never EVER physical but now that I look back on it, we talked about sex inordinately. And don't get me wrong, I love talking about sex but the only person who needs to know how many sexual partners i've had and whether I like "going down" should be a person who I am or will be in a relationship with. My platonic male friend should not ask the questions Matt asked of me and I regret that instead of shutting the inquiries down, I laughed and mistook it for affection. I mean he once asked me (in the  middle of watching a movie)  how many holes i'd be open to having filled in a sexual encounter and when I showed general discomfort at the question he laughed and said he liked girls who didn't embarrass so easily. 

He talked openly about his physical love for minorities and mainly brown females but expressed little sympathy for brown skinned men while also reverting to typical stereotypes to show superiority. He used to tell me all the time that he loved {insert specific dark skinned race] because the men in [insert same specific dark skinned race] don't treat them well. He'd say Asian men had small dicks and Hispanic men were not smart and African American males were prone to laziness. All of "these" men treated their women so poorly he was in theory "saving" brown women by loving them so much.

 It was always "god, I love black women BUT i don't understand why black men aren't smart and rely only on {insert black male stereotype} to get by. He made me as a black female feel like I should be grateful  that he took an interest in my beauty which society has been slow to accept. But his interest seemed more like a fetish than anything else.

I am fuming over these realizations now. It's been a month since I last talked or saw Matt but I clearly saw the signs early on but  i sort of just (as I always do) made excuses. I am still making excuses.  Once I have made up my mind about a person (either good or bad) I am too stubborn to change that initial perception even when presented with that facts. And I wanted Matt to work out for my own selfish reason.  My mom was happy that i found a guy and my friends were excited that I was finally about to be coupled up. And seeing that happiness from my friends and family were overwhelming. Like the only thing I was missing in my already decent life was a man. So i was willing to try and have him fit that mold until...well it and him crumbled under his fuckboy reality. 

But I cannot place all the blame on Matt. I have to take responsibility for the fact that I saw  past obvious red flags. It was weird enough that he reached out to me after a 5 year silence. Especially since we weren't that close at the store and had had several miscommunications while we worked together. It was strange when he called me his best friend after hanging out for a month. It was also weird that he wanted to regularly hang out at my house for 12 hours straight but had no interest in dating me. He was a time waster and it is not only clear that he reached out to me out of desperation but because he knew I'd respond. Like I always do because that is who I am an emphatic person who loves a good sob story.

But moving forward, I have to set boundaries and have standards and hold people accountable when and if something is crossed. I have to stop being so damn accommodating. For someone who can be opinionated and forceful with her words when I need to be...I tend to give romantic prospects the benefit of the doubt. I become submissive and passive and unlike my real self out of fear that they will reject me if they knew how strong I was. But who gives a fuck? Especially when this passive approach makes me susceptible to assholes.

So I am making a list. An Oh No list to figure out what my boundaries are so that I can be more explicit about them moving forward. I am sort of a a boundary-less person because I am a people pleaser and I want to be accommodating because I have mistaken it for showing devotion. But fuck that life. No more going out of my way to live up to someone else's expectation when all I am given back is scraps. Or worse....they do not live up to my own expectations.

So outside of the general "Oh no" deal breakers like: someone who is mean to children or animals, someone who expresses any sort of racism or discrimination or general cruelty to people, someone who is nasty to hospitality workers AND anyone who is a Trump Supporter (this does not mean conservative, this just means Trump supporter), I need to have a concrete list of unacceptable things that cross a boundary for me. I can only hope in doing so I can avoid these landmine of assholes in my periphery and maybe even pave the way for something greater. 

H O M E

There are very few things I actually miss about working in retail, cause lets be real....once an old lady with what can only be surmised as Alzheimer tries to physically fight you at the cash register because you remind her of some bitch from 1920's who stole her boo at the speakeasy, the minimum wage and employee discount really don't seem worth it.

I haven't worked in retail in almost 4 years and it's insane to think that I slaved away in the aisle of the bookstore for as long as i did. There used to be this time, not so long ago, when I worked two jobs, the latter at crazy hours with customers who included a guy who smeared shit on the bathroom mirrors so frequently we donned him the phantom pooper. The 3rd time it happened, I remember we all just stopped working so we could run to the bathroom in disgust and fascination at the balls on this guy for having poop as his calling card.

Now that I am a slave to the cubicle life, I sometimes look back at my time at Le Sad Store and wonder how i did it for so long. Especially because there were almost no perks to the job.

For one, minimum wage is a bitch and anyone who complains that we shouldn't raise it have never worked a "real job" a day in their life. While working a cushy office gig pays your bills and weekend off ....you get a warrior badge if you survive working retail. Because a lot of people don't.  I started at Le Sad Store making $9 per hour and post college, this seemed like a gold mine of a hourly wage. I had just come off working $5 at my school library which allowed me to buy weekly foot-longs from Subway while I played the sims to kill time. So of course the $4 bump seemed like my first real step towards financially security. I was a fool!

Realistically $9 aint shit when you have actual bills to pay and add rent on top of that I barely had enough money for food at the end of my paycheck. Despite this I still went out regularly, was a frequent buyer of tattered Forever 21 clothes and abused the shit out of that employee discount by funneling most of my paycheck back into the company with all my  unnecessary book, dvd's and cafe purchases.

Secondly, working on the weekend should be banned! You go through most of your life taking advantage of Saturday and Sunday that when it is stripped away from you it feels like a death. For almost 8 years, I worked on weekends to the point where Tuesday and Wednesday's were my day of rest. But there is something sacred about Saturday and Sunday. It's hard to explain. Saturday just feels like a Saturday. As does Sunday. The two days are supposed to be about relaxation or fun if that is your choice. Working should not even be a thing one has to do.

Towards the end of my time at the bookstore I was clocking in only around 28 hours a week. EVEN THEN, most of those hours were spent working on the weekend. And idk, it's just sort of awful. Saturdays should be for errands and hanging out and movies and naps. On Sunday, I should only have to wake up enough to maybe put on pants and find something binge-able on TV. I should not have to work for 8 hours surrounded by people who openly choose to be at my place of work! it's offensive.

But the real crux of working in retail is the customer because most people are trash. I am an insanely accommodating shopper because of my time spent being harassed, embarrassed, demeaned and once again PHYSICALLY assaulted by the general public (she brought the cane out!). I try to buy things only online so I don't even have to set foot in any retail establishment (except Target. I love Target) because I know how awful people can treat retail workers. I also judge potential friends and romantic partners by how they interact with severs, cashiers and other "hospitality" workers. If you don't say "thank you" or are dismissive or leave a shitty tip you are a trash person who i do not want to know. There are way too many awful customer stories to detail but just know that it's worse than you could ever imagine.

And while the actual customers are terrible what's even worse is the entitlement people hold over you. People assume you work in retail because you aren't qualified to work anywhere else. That you should just get a real job. That looking for books and ringing up customers is super easy. And to give them credit, a lot of it is easy but that doesn't mean anyone who works in retail isn't busting their ass. I was in the best shape of my life at the bookstore because I was on my feet all day. Between shelving books and finding books and chasing teenagers out of the store, I burned more calories at work then I ever did in mandatory PE classes. I also had to sacrifice holidays because people love to shop. We worked all the Eve's and never got any government holidays off just so you could buy the latest New York Times bestseller.

Also, working parents would often leave their kids (babies) at the store as if we were a personal daycare center and while it wasn't our responsibility to watch them we legit kept watch over children left to fend for themselves at the store. We also had to deal with "regulars"...well on the regular. People who frequented the store so often they might as well have lived there. They talked to us repeatedly as if we were their friends and most times we were empathetic ears to lonely and worn down individuals. So yea, finding someone the Secret for the 7th million time isn't that hard BUT spending 7 long hours on your feet, making less than $10 an hour as people continue to berate you because you can't find "the book that has a red cover" can be a daunting if not noble venture.

I must have a form of PTSD from my time in the bookstore because even though it has been four years since clocking in, I do have a tendency of watching Youtube videos of customers freaking out in public. My Youtube history is full of videos of customers behaving badly while people stare on horrified and appalled and yet still paralyzed to do anything.  At first I thought this was just me being a huge ass weirdo, but I confirmed with another former bookseller worker that I am not the only one who does this! I did not become a lifelong retailer worker but there is a smidgen of guilt for the life and friends I left behind and maybe having a reminder every once in a while is how i leave pay my penitence.

Because if I can be honest, while almost every fucking thing about retail was awful and dreadful and stress inducing....I miss my coworkers tremendously. I miss my friends who I will always consider family even if I no longer speak or see them. There is something about working in a shitty retail environment that creates a bond between the people that is impenetrable. It is Us (employees) Vs. Them (customers, corporate, managers) that inspires the same level of teamwork as an old school Field Day event.  My coworkers and I used to work in near perfect tandem because we liked working together and being around each other and supporting one another.

Someone having a bad day? We'd pill them with hugs and snacks from the vending machine and jokes until the person felt a little better. I once was so poor I couldn't afford lunch at le sad store, so my friend brought me sandwiches from home until our next pay period. When I offered to pay him back he was offended. It is the first time I have ever tackled someone with one of my hugs. Our friendships (all of them) were definitely messy, overwhelming, annoying and of course when we all started dating each other very incestuous but I am convinced it was the most authentic love I have ever had with my peers. We were a team in and outside of that store and anything less than that feeling of fidelity feels like a disappointment now. 

The next time you go to Target or Walmart or hell even that little clothing store in mall, look at how the employees interact with each other. Sure they are rude towards customers and flee in the other direction when the see a dumb question coming their way....but i bet your ass you will almost always see them smiling and laughing in interactions with each other. I'd put my next paycheck (not really, i have to get my car fixed) that they are friends and want to see each other outside of work. Retail teaches you about teamwork and camaraderie and dare i say...friendship the way it should be.

So yea, I don't miss the late hours or the low pay or the customers who think you are property along with the things your store is selling. But i miss the shit out of walking into work and checking the schedule to see if my favorite people are working with me. I miss walking into the break room and being greeted with "hellos' and "I missed you" and continuation of conversations that happened only hours later.  I miss looking over at one of my friends as a customer is acting a fool and sharing a look that only the two of us understand and will no doubt discuss in length afterwards. I miss my people, my tribe, my ride or dies and lifelong friends. I miss them painfully.

I bring this up because honestly outside of a handful of people at my current job, I loathe the majority of my co-workers. This isn't to say they aren't fine people but they aren't "my" people. They aren't watching great TV shows or reading interesting books of finding new and dope music they have to share immediately. They are investing in stocks, talking about mortgages ,placing illegal bets and playing a legitimate game called CORNHOLE during work hours. Do you want to know the point of the game? You throw a ball in a hole. That's it. They have spent hundreds of dollars betting each other on who can win the game. How do you even have enough money to place such bets? I have bills to pay and rent to pay and any extra money is not going towards winning or losing a game called Cornhole. It's going to Target.

And who would have thought that liking the people you spend more than 40 hours with throughout the week is super fucking important.  But holy shit it is almost pivotal to my work life balance....and happiness. Outside of the Matt fiasco my personal life is pretty okay. Sure, there could be improvements to my every day but for the most part I am in love with the baby steps I am making. Last week I went to Whole Foods (like an actual adult), purchased some healthy meals, stood in an indiscernible aisle and stared at the nutritional information on the back of the cookie box I was holding. I'd seen someone do this earlier is a more appropriate and less snack food aisle and I figured I'd mirror her actions too because this is what adulting is like. Though i walked out spending way to much on "organic" food there was something very mature about the whole trip. Only four years ago I was slaving away at le sad store, renting a room in some lady's house and buying frozen meals that couldn't adequately feed a toddler. And there I was on a Saturday in a Whole Foods that I drove to  in my own car buying food for my REFRIGERATOR to eat during the actual work week. Ya'll i have a fridge.

But there are only two days during the weekend and my organic cookies and almond milk can't make up for the fact that I spend the bulk of my time and life at a job that hate with people i'd openly ignore in public. And it's weeks like this when I am feeling extra nostalgic and homesick for my old life. I'd almost take another near asswhooping from a gal name Betsy too deep into her Alzheimer to realize I am not in fact her childhood rival as she manhandles me to the shock and fear and even amusement of my co-workers nearby. I'd relive that moment once again, just for the comfort of seeing my friend turned families contorted, anxious but familiar faces again that were as home to me as home gets.

Nice Girls Don't Finish On Top

I am unabashedly a nice girl and I am starting to think this title is doing nothing for my social life. Don't get me wrong, my mamma didn't raise no fool. I am not a pushover and have surprised many a people who thought my bite wasn't as big as my bark. I can be a fearless girl and I have not always been an incredibly nice woman when backed into a corners.

In high school I was angst filled and aloof to the point of coming off cold to my peers. Marie and I were queens of sulking and side-eyeing anyone who did us wrong and I was told more times that I can count to stop being "mean" to [insert names here]. When you are young, the moment you learn you are quick witted, it's hard to contain the sass. So even though I was a nice girl, I am also a smart ass to a fault. I said and did dumb things to prove points that didn't need proving. 

In college, I was hard-headed and stubborn. I was often accused of thinking I was "better" than my peers because of my disdain for commonality and small talk. Having anxiety didn't help disprove this misconception. I'm not going to lie, even with this blog detailing my most embarrassing years, I don't think I can stress enough how weird and awkward i was. Because I was really fucking awkward. I really didn't try enough to make friends  and was unable to openly just be myself like i craved....so I would come off as weird and brooding and full of tension, despite the fact that I was listening to Shawn Colvin on my CD player and reading romance novels in-between classes.

Being less anxious these last few years has definitely increased my self confidence and how i present myself to the world. I am still awkward but in a fumbling, comical and delicate way rather than mouth breathing, sweaty and off putting counterpart.  I am much too old to constantly worry what people think about me (as I write a post about what people may think about me. The irony is ever present) which has allowed me in many ways to be just be who I am without fear of embarrassment. But now that I am less anxious, the layers that have been stripped away just reveal that I am an incredibly kind and nice human being. And it's nauseating.

While I do have moments of sassiness and "bitch-like" bravado.  I am  your quintessential good girl. People NOW tend to find me adorable and relatable to a motherfucking fault (oh, and I curse a lot...which is probably not a good girl thing but whatever). I am called sweetheart by damn near everyone i met, children are not intimated by me and one time a dog feed me a treat. I wish I was kidding but perhaps thinking i was in need of it's care, my friends dog passed up her treat and brought it to me...as if she were doing me a favor. Le fucking sigh.

The problem is....because people mistake me for being a good girl, I am not often met with the same level of respect from men and and often infanticide by my some of my female peers. It doesn't matter that I can rap to Cardi B lyrics like a motherfucking boss or that i rehearse arguments in the shower on a regular basis (you must always be prepared)....at the end of the day, the secret about me is always at the surface. I am incredibly nice and soft which often comes across as naive, gullible and lacking experience.

And to be fair I am a fault for my nice girl image. I am the most accommodating person you will ever meet and I am not even admitting this fact to toot my own nice girl horn. I am annoyingly optimistic and never openly judgmental of anyone. People have admitted some weird shit to me but instead of shutting them down, I want to take the time to learn more about their interest.When I claim you as a friend I will go above and beyond to shower you with love and affection. And while this has it's benefits, I am also too trusting, too forgiving, too polite and thus susceptible to shitty people. It's as if my kindness lures them in and then WHAM, I have to go through another blocking spree because I cannot have such negativity in my life.

Today was that such day and another crushing realization as I went to Matt's FB page and Instagram page and blocked the crap out of him. I used to think blocking individuals was a un-good girl aspect of my personality but honestly it's a necessary tool for me to accept the end of something. Sometimes I do so out of a necessity (Sean and his family), other times the decision is hasty but still with my best interest at heart (Kathleen). Matt is a combination of both. Despite how shitty he has become, I am a person who forever holds on to what if. What if, he eventually comes around and realizes he has been treating me terribly because he is deeply in love with me. What if he has been ignoring me because life has become super busy but I am still at the forefront of his mind. What if he really does want to be my friend but just doesn't know how to be in my life they way I want friends to be in my life.

The problem is these "what if's" don't matter because they never came into fruition. If he wanted to be in my life, he would be and if he just wanted to be friends he wouldn't be a complete and utter asshat and towards the end he was less and less present but more of an asshat. So I blocked him. I removed myself from the situation. I packed my good girl qualities into a suitcase and sashayed out of the equation.

And while I feel okay about using my block powers to remove myself from the situation, I am beginning to worry about the relationship patterns I find myself in.  Cause it feels like an "Oops I did it again moment" but less cooler. I often connect with a people immediately.  We become inseparable and super reliant on each other and then before you know it the crazy starts. People tend to own my time and my space and want 100% access to me. And because I am a good girl I allow this even when I shouldn't. There were many times when Matt has said or done something inappropriately that I didn't call him on his shit because I didn't want to come across like a bitch. But I should have, thinking back on it.

I don't know how to stop being such a good girl but as I replay what has gone wrong in the past with friendship and romantic possibilities and my current falling out with Matt I can't help but think my niceness is a huge part of the problem. I come across as impenetrably delicate because I am impenetrably delicate so people take advantage and I let them. 

This doesn't mean I want to stop being a nice girl cause lets be real the idea of being unkind gives me all sorts of agita. I just feel like I need some alter ego, a non nice girl entity who comes out when i need her most. I need to go from Sandra Dee to "Sandy! asap because Sandra Dee is mocked and pilfered and almost always damn near feathered because of her nice girl ways.  You know how Beyonce created an alter ego called "Sasha Fierce" who takes over when she performs on stage? A sexier (as if she can get any sexier), Fiercer (as if she needs and fierce mojo) and more Dominant  (I bow to her willingly) persona? I need her.

Anytime, I am being excruciatingly nice, I need that bitch to put her stilettos heels down (bad bitches wear stilettos?) and stop me in my tracks. I need her to be more assertive and forthcoming and dare I say...even a little mean when it's appropriate. Because this nice girl stuff is no longer working in my favor. I just don't know if I have the energy to be Sasha Fierce when all i want to do is keep being me which includes a lot of annoying necessities and cat naps.

We All Gotta be Marty McFly Right Now

Two days and I am still a mess. An inconsolable, red-eyed, comfort eating mess. I got all of two hours of sleep yesterday and literally went to work in an outfit that could have passed for pj's. I had the thousand yard stare of someone who'd seen battle, i was sullen and despondent. There were occasional murmurs from my colleagues about the election where they expressed  the same sort of shock and disbelief but not really understanding the totality of America's decision. My manager even had to nerve to joke that if we would have all voted this wouldn't have happened (ignoring the fact that he didn't vote). I fumed but was too exhausted by my lack of sleep to say anything back.

Despite Tuesdays outcome,  I am freaking proud of madame president. She was articulate, knowledgeable  and a fucking defender for all of us who have felt silenced in this country. I watched every debate, cried during the DNC and was so behind her as my commander in chief. The fact that she won the popular vote proves that half of the country was with her and her message as well. Knowing this doesn't make what happened any easier to accept but it is a small comfort I will take and cradle until January.

I can't help but admit that I am relieved that there are a lot of friends and family members who are equally as distressed about Biff being the next president of my united states. See what i did there, I refuse to write his name on my blog space. I will never write his name here. Someone today said he reminded her of Biff from Back to the Future and I realize that is where my primal discomfort about  him (among other discomfort) stems from.

I have always associated men like that as abrasive bullies. I have always avoided men like him because I feel threatened and scared of that form of masculinity. I did not personally know many Biff supporters and the few that were vocal about it also showed themselves to be also be sexist or racist and were quickly shut down and de-friended.  While I don't think all Biff supporters are awful, I guess I can understand (a little) how any person could gravitate to that form of masculinity. I gravitated to that form of masculinity when Marie died.

I lost someone very important to me  and my security felt threatened once she was gone. I was under attack emotionally and mentally and  was afraid of everything and everyone. When Sean offered me  support, I readily soaked it up because I didn't want anyone feeling sorry for me. He was always saying stupid things and doing stupid things and had so little filter, it was nice to be around because it distracted me from my sadness. I would cry or have a break down and he would let me take out my frustration on him. Like physically and emotionally because he said he was strong enough for that.  I realize now he was just a sociopath who felt no pain and never took responsibility for anything.

But that brand of masculinity only went so far. It was attractive and alluring and you bet your ass when he offered me his muscly chest to sleep on I was all for that type of masculinity. But when I began to heal as a person he did not possess the basic goodness that made us compatible. I simply didn't need him to just be this body I could do bad things with. I wanted a supportive, helpful, considerate partner that could help me rebuild what I lost. I ideally needed a Mr. Darcy in my life but I went for the bully in Karate Kid. And the moment it became apparent that what I needed from him was vastly different from what initially drew me to him(a receptive body I could do good things with), his masculinity turned on me and I am still recovering from the fallout of that.

I once did a paper on masculinity because it has always fascinated me. Women are allowed to be soft and hard beings. Of course when you are too soft you are considered defenseless and when you are too hard you are considered a bitch but we can still vacillate between both versions of femininity. I always got the impression that men cannot do this. If you are too soft you are immediately emasculated and if you are too hard you can be revered and despised...at the same time. 

I recognize that that form of male-ness is what also got Biff elected. In a nation griped by various fears his abrasiveness was not an immediate turn off for some. Instead it epitomized to them the essence of authority. I doubt that he will actually be able to provide comfort and reassurance to our country in times of need. I can't imagine any future addresses to the country where he is able to express sorrow and unity. I instead expect what usually ends up being the case with most men like that...impotence and the inability to follow through. All bark and no bite.  All muscly chest but no beating heart.

I feel a little better today than I did yesterday but as someone who always plans ahead this moment in history feels like a turning point for me. I understand that Biff will be in office come January, I understand that that could mean a lot of citizens basic human-ness will be at risk.  I recognize that a lot of people are scared and uncertain and filled with the same anxiety that has crippled me since Tuesday. But this is a good thing, right? That there are a lot of me's out there wondering what happens next and are ready to step up and do something about it. What I have seen in history is that when good people sit out and don't speak out against injustice people suffer (and Biff's are elected into office). So maybe this moment in history is supposed to be a turning point, maybe this is when the change we have slowly been working towards needs to be louder and made clearer to the silent majority.

I am not so worried about my own stakes and claims post this election. I can handle whatever shit is thrown my way but I worry more about my family in the south, I worry a lot about my LGBTQ friends and my lady friends and my proud immigrant friends. I am most worried about the individuals who feel like there voice was completely silenced Tuesday and I just can't potentially go through the next four years sitting by idly if Biff (or his supporters) try to antagonize and suppress them.

Of course all I have now is the energy and determination. I am not really sure how to be of help but I am mobilizing and taking notes and I plan to get as involved as possible. Dr. Who mentions that there are fixed points in history that cannot be re-written but it doesn't mean that in those fixed points individuals can't still make a difference.

New Girl

Working in retail for as long as I did, I (quickly) got used to new people popping in and out of my 'professional' life on a weekly/ monthly and seasonal basis.  It's the nature of the job to be honest; people  learn whether they have the ability to withstand the environment quickly and when they decide they don't it's usually a quick and sudden exit.

High customer service demand, crappy pay, long hours and often strenuous work is not even the half of what retail workers have to put up with...on a good day and  because of this retail is a place with a high turnover; faces come and go like a revolving door. I've seen a guy quit during his orientation, one girl quit mid shift because she was tired of being on her feet all day and for weeks no one could stop laughing about the cafe server who literally threw his apron off and said 'i'm not doing this shit anymore' as he was ringing up a customer. He then ran out of the store and returned months later to buy a gift for his girlfriend. Needless to say, it was awkward.

The point is I am used to new people and the dynamic one bring to the work place so much so that towards the end of my tenure as a bookseller, I stopped introducing myself to newbies. I am not proud of this but I am not in the business of lying either. This isn't to say that I was downright rude to new employees, I'd smile and introduce myself when a manager brought them around, i'd lie and say ' i was a person they could come to if they ever had questions' and then i'd smile, walk away and never interact with said new person again...unless they proved their staying power.

I was not particularly welcoming to new girls  and new boys i remained distant and aloof towards. On many levels my attitude (which I only displayed during my last year at Le Sad Store) had much to do with the fact that it is very hard to do your job and train a person who may not last that long. The other and main factor however, which maybe no one is proud to admit, is that it's hard to welcome someone into a working social environment that for the most part has been established.

It took about a solid 6 months before I started making friends at the store. The first few months were hard because i didn't want to step on anyone's toes so I remained out of the way for the most part. I ate lunch alone, was really quiet and preferred browsing the aisle's instead of interacting with my co-workers. I eventually carved out my small little group to hang out with but but most of them soon got new jobs and moved. Over time (once I proved I wasn't going anywhere) relationships strengthened, a work flow was established and a routine both socially and 'professionally' just sort of came together. It was great. 6 years later I wasn't the new girl but someone with the job experience to do my job well, a trial and error experience with co-workers until I found 'my crew' and unfortunately the bad habit of being dismissive towards anyone knew who threatened to disrupt what wasn't broke. Sorry New People.

 So from someone who knows the new employee experience from both sides... I get it. I totally get it...being new for the first few months is dreadful...it's difficult...some co-workers will be cold and distant at first...others will be too friendly and informative...things will take time to fall into place. But when they do,  things will be great! I just wish I could skip all of this middle stuff and get to the comfort and enjoyment of not being the new girl.

My first two days at work have been interesting and exciting to say the least. This being my first full time office job I was struck by how on point shows and movies like Office Space and The Office represent the working environment. My company has about 30 employees;  most are about my age and a few are much older. I have my own spacious cubicle located next to Patrica (Trish) where I will eventually work from once I am fully trained. There is a meeting room and lounge area and cafeteria with free coffee.

Like new game introduced to the animal kingdom I was pretty much ogled my first day. Luckily i wore a very cute outfit so i was okay and prepared for the physical assessment.  A handful of people introduced themselves right off the back while others remained at their workspace only to peer over at me like an annoyed Senior in high school having to be nice to Freshman meat. The one's who introduced themselves are super close to Trish so by proxy they were very friendly. They also work in the Support department (which I will be leading) which could also explain the friendliness. The Marketing and Sales department make up the other half of the team and they are the ones who will be hard to impress. They were standoffish and arms crossed but spent most of the day passing my cubicle and peering over my shoulder.

The job itself if pretty doable. It's mainly customer service and editing with a few small marketing responsibilities here and there. I am taking over Trish's job (she got a promotion) and am sort of her impersonal assistant until I can work on my own. She's been training me the last two days but is sort of scatter brain and gets easily distracted. I don't even know how to answer the phone yet which sucks because it rings constantly and will be my main responsibility. I am so used to knowing how to do my job I hate how incapable I am of doing anything at the moment. I have heard the Marketing guys make snide comments about their own assistants who they've had to baby the first few months and that's the last thing I want to do. I pick up things easily and adapt even quicker but at the pace it is taking Trish to train me I look and feel like a cat being dragged on a dog leash.

My obvious concern was that I would get to this job and regret not taking the one around the corner from my house. I am happy to report that that is not the case. While the commute will take some getting used to, I am totally stoked about this job. It offers the social work environment, professional work experience and opportunity for growth on all levels. Plus there are a handful of office cuties which I will just look at but still they are there. I also got my first paycheck this weekend for the two days I worked before the end of the pay period. I literally made two weeks worth of money from the University in two days at this place so guess who can afford cable soon...this girl.

So yea, things are looking up. It's definitely a new situation and I am possibly embarking on a new life but i am excited, a little anxious, hella optimistic and happy. Very happy for the chance to make something out of the opportunity I've been given.

If This Were Pretty in Pink...

I am not the greatest decision maker. It's just fact. I have, in the past, mulled over decision for days and weeks before making up my mind and even then I am not 100% sure i've made the right one.

Lately most of my decision making involves food: what do i want to eat for dinner, what should i pack for lunch, should i throw out this stale bread or save it to feed the birds at the pond near my house. And even then, i can't readily decide the best outcome for myself, so instead, i'll go to bed hungry or throw cookies in my sandwich container instead of making lunch or keep the stale bread until their is mold and neither I nor the birds can eat it.

I am terrified of making the wrong choice. I am terrified and yet always filled with regret some how and paralyzing indecision. My mom says it's because I spend to much time with sliding door scenarios. Instead of just accepting the path my decision will take me on and dealing with it as I go along, I consider every minute detail until I have driven myself into a frenzy.

Today has been one of those days.

Two weeks I didn't even have one job offer and today I suddenly two. During my week of job interviews I interviewed for a really small  construction company (6 people in total) that is literally around the corner from my house and that pays significantly more than Justin's GF job. It was long shot that i'd even get this gig because I am super under qualified and I do not have a car (which is something he seemed to stress). The obvious perk was of course the fact there be'd no transportation and the pay was well over my asking price.

He said he would make a decision by the end of the week (last week) but that he liked me and would be in contact as soon as he talked to some other candidates. But then Patricia contacted me and invited me to her office and she was so fucking excited about me working with her and to be honest I was fucking excited as well.

Since quitting Le Sad Store and ending things with Sean my life is pretty depressing these days. The town I live in is adorable but I have not met anyone my age to hang out with and honestly I am sort of seeking companionship. The long-term sort of one. My friend Heather and Kat are the only two people I see/talk to regularly (outside of my mom) and it often feels like I am in seclusion. Kat implemented a pj/movie night at my apartment every Friday which at first was fun until I realized that everyday at my house with or without Kat is pj/movie night. I have no social life, little to no human interactions with peers and the highlight of my week once was that I marathoned a whole season on Law and Order over the weekend never once taking off my pj's.

So while the pay and lack of transportation were appealing at first, I realized the construction job would also in some way enable this solitary existence. I would crawl out of bed, go to work, be in charge of running all the administrative duties of a small company and then return home after an 8 hour day to spend by myself. Kat disagreed of course. She said being close to home would give me more time to do things failing to see that I do not have anyone to do things with. Heather disagreed as well lamenting that I would have money so who the hell cares about being alone.

I did not throw in their faces that they were both born and raised here. That they are surrounded daily by family members, friends and boyfriends. They both live rent free with their significant others and are constantly doing things outside of their job which compensates for how much they both dislike their jobs.  Sure they complain about loneliness as well but I don't think they truly really know what it looks and feels like to be lonely. I sometimes forget what my name sounds like outside of my own voice because no one ever says it. I have gone days without talking to people and when I have reached out I feel pitiful and then pitied.

I guess this is something i have not readily admitted to myself or other people but it is a factor that has made the last few months unbearably sad. Not only do i feel secluded geographically but mentally and emotionally. I miss intimacy and no amount of money can replenish the loss.

So when the job with Patricia opened up I was excited on many levels. I hand't heard back from the construction company yet, there were mad cuties where she works and the salary is exactly what I wanted (minus my traveling expenses of course which would be about 5 dollars a day). But the main factor was that it would allow me to interact socially with a diverse group of people in a new town. Coming home would feel just as so...coming home. Home being a place I enjoy and want to retreat too when the real world hasn't been kind. Lately home has been a jail cell where I return to because I am not fit for human interaction.

There was little to no hesitation when she called a few hours after my interview to offer me the job. Partly out of financially desperation but mainly from the standpoint that I wouldn't be working alone. Since receiving the good news I have been on a high! I finally, after six years, have a full time job! I will soon be able to afford things! I will also be able to make friends! office friends but still friends!

And then....the construction company called this morning, left a voicemail and offered me the higher paying job. I was hoping they wouldn't call so the decision was placed out of my hands but life has a way, even when things are going well, to kick sand in your face.

 I called my mom, I called Heather, I called Kat in a damn near frenzy. I already accepted one job (which I plan to start Thursday) I couldn't suddenly go back on my commitment just because the one that pays more money shows an interest right? Kat and Heather both thought i was crazy for even mulling over the decision: take the one with more money, right around the corner, I [Kat] can now come to  your house right after work because you live down the street and we can watch more tv. I [insert Heather] can now visit you during your lunch break because I work in the same town. But I [insert Beckett] am not quite convinced that more money will make up for how unhappy I am. Sure it will allow me to buy more things and come home super early after work...but that's it. That's all. And at the end of the day that is the last thing I want.

The construction job is the Blaine to Patricia's Duckie job (pretty in pink reference to anyone who hasn't seen it but seriously everyone has seen this movie right). And while Molly Ringwald eventually choose Blaine, I'd rather take my chance on Duckie, just for now you know. With this being my first real full time job where I will regardless make more money than I ever have I also want the perk of meeting people.

For love or money I have surprised myself by recognizing I am a person who prefers love over the luxury of money. And in this case 'love' is possibility. It is risk. It is choosing my needs over my wants.

Birthday Miracle.

I have been a little mum on my financial situation these last few months because honestly I didn't want to jinx it and make it any worse than it is. I was fearful that even talking about how broke I was (am), how many bills I have forgone paying (except rent clearly) and how little food I have been eating was not something I wanted to put out in the atmosphere because I didn't want karma to have it all blow back in my face ten-fold because you know, life likes to kick you when you are down.

Honestly though, since December I have been living paycheck to paycheck...even tho my paychecks barely cover rent. This is literally the broke-st I have ever been in my whole life and I once lived off of 7.75 minimum wage at the library job when I was in college, so i know what broke looks and feels life.

I can't say my current lack of money has anything to do with quitting Le Sad Store but it did a little. Even though I only worked there two nights a week and I would bring home about $100 the cushion was nice. The hemorrhaging of money began with the big move in October, which led to money having to be spent on transportation (which never was an issue before) and now that I have a kitchenette the amount of food I spend on groceries has been in play concluding with my general cost of living...I simply don't make enough money at the University alone to pay for my life expenses.

The biggest issue has been the job at the University which recently cut the hours of all part time employees because the school is on the brink of bankruptcy. Instead of being able to work 30 hours a week we can only work max 20 hours, but that was the max was the best case scenario , since the cut and the snow days I probably work 15 hours a week and two weeks ago I only made $266 for the pay period. I may have cried so much I turned into a puddle for everyone to trek their soles through. It was depressing.

I immediately amped up my job search and got lost in the dark twisted world of temp agencies, job hunting websites and craigslist (which is an entity of it's own). For anyone who hasn't faced the desperation of job seeking, I will tell you quite painfully..it is the fucking pits. I'd wake up and apply to jobs, I'd search for listings on my phone on my way to work, i'd get to work and search and apply and repeat this process until my shift ended. Then, i'd go home to search and apply until I fell asleep. I spent 3 miserable weeks doing this, only to get less than a handful of interested employers.

And the few places I did apply to were great but fell through quickly:

there was an opening at the University for a full time job, in the city, with a bunch of job and fun employees (before my interview began, i heard someone crank up the radio because R.E.M was playing). I was probably older than the guy who interviewed me and we were both very informal and enthusiastic about me joining the department. But then he broke the bad news towards the end of my interview. The job's starting salary was less than my asking price (by like 10k) and while I was a shoe-in for the job he wanted to make sure I would be okay with the pay and having to commute to the city. Of course, I joyously replied that I would make it work because I wanted nothing more than to stay with the university. We shook hands and he walked me to the door and said he was looking forward to working together.

As soon as I got home I crunched numbers and realized I would not be able to live off of the salary and instead would be paying the University to work there. My paychecks per pay period would roughly be around $400 dollars ( 2 paychecks per month) and to put things in to perspective traveling to Manhattan per month alone is $436. While I was desperate and had no other prospects I emailed the interviewer and told him I could not accept the job offer but was grateful for the opportunity.

THEN, I had an interview with a publishing company in the city. My brief stint in publishing was not a great one. I love reading, I love writing but I simply have no interest of working in publishing.  Unfortunately, my degree and retail experience is tailored for the industry. I ended up finding a job at a small publishing company that was seeking a web savvy and adorable receptionist...and who else could fulfill the position but me. I interviewed with some awesome ladies and made an adorable impression on several of the employees (it involved me struggling to open the main door to the building, which lead to concern looks but eventual help from some of the staff smoking cigarettes outside). Before the interview ended they asked me for 3 references that they could contact. I scribbled down two of my current managers and then my friend Heather (who has helped me out so much with everything this past year). I placed Heather's name on the top of the list, hoping they'd call her and then left the interview feeling super confidant so much so that i spent the rest of the afternoon in the city hitting up comic book shops and flirting with booksellers.

But silence followed said awesome interview. No request for a second interview, no phone call, no rejection letter,  just nothing. I was so confidant that i'd gotten the job and so elated from the feeling of a new start that realizing I hadn't gotten it hurt. I just didn't understand why it didn't work out. A few weeks later my current boss called so we could go over some job related things. Before he hung up, he asked "do you know a woman named [insert interviewers name] she called a few weeks asking if I could provide some info on you but I was nervous it was a scam so I pretended like i didn't know who you were or what she was talking about". My heart freaking sank. He knew I was job hunting but he didn't necessarily know where or when and I made the mistake of thinking they would call Heather instead of my manager.

I slowly tried to recover from the setback but nothing clicked. I got a few calls from hiring agencies that all promised awesome opportunities to work in finance which only convinced me they hadn't properly reviewed my resume which showed little to no experience or interest in finance. I applied to several part time jobs in my neighborhood because of my eagerness to work anywhere but they were all looking for high school or college students..not me.

The week before my birthday my luck turned around, I got 5 interviews out of the 40 jobs I applied to and I spent 5 days talking about my self to various employers. It was rough.

One of the jobs i interviewed for was with a girlfriend of a friend who basically contacted me via facebook and told me there was an opening at her job and she wanted me to apply so we could work together. She used to work at Le Sad Store and dates my close friend Justin (they were the couple who threw the Halloween party where I learned all the crazy shit about Sean from his cousin). She is sort of quiet and withdrawn but super nice and every time there is a group outing she and Justin attend.  I wouldn't call us friends but she is definitely someone who I get along with and could become friends with down the line. Because we border on the friend/ associate border I was a little confused by her offer and general excitement to interview me (yes! she was the one giving the interview). So I took off from work, trekked to this lavish building and sort of hung out with her for a good 40 minutes while she went over the job and what i'd be doing.

She spoke as if the job was already mine and I asked questions as if the job was mine as well. I couldn't imagine her asking me to apply and interview with her only to be turned down for the job. That would be weird and insulting right, like dangling food in front of a starving person. Towards the end of the interview she admitted that she had interviewed a few other people but did not like them, obviously, as much as me but that ultimately she would not be the decision maker in who gets hired. She also added "so please don't hate me if you don't get hired. I really want you to get the job but my boss pretty much decides". She walked me to the elevators and then gave me a big ass hug and  I left sort of confidant but also pretty sure i'd have to move back to South Carolina if I didn't get this job.

As soon as I got home and undressed I got a text from Justin's GF "i have great news...call me back". Two minutes later she giggly said the job was mine if wanted it because her boss felt confidant with whomever she, Patricia, wanted to hire. And with that I now officially have a new job with benefits that pays well and I don't even have to work on the weekends.

I start this Thursday (current boss, perhaps feeling guilty for the reference fumble so he was okay with me starting the new job sooner than usual) and am nervous but also very excited. I have never had a full time job before. I have also never had money, livable or disposable income. I have had such a shit year I wanted nothing more than to enter my 29th one with a renewed sense of possibilities. And all of a sudden, almost out of nowhere I have been given one. It feels strange and odd and yet necessary like the more I distance myself from the missteps of Sean and Le Store and my old apartment and the endless tears the better the outcome for my life.

At least that is what i hope. So yay! I hope this trend of good news continues. I could seriously use a break and a change for once.

Moving Day.

So a couple of weeks ago my awesome landlady informed me that one of the tenants would be moving out the first week of June. Outside of Mary (landlady) and her daughter (Nicole) I rarely run into the other two guys who live here. One resides in the room near the attic and the other has the room next to mine.

I've run into both of them a total of ten times since living here, and I kind of love that they are quiet and keep to themselves. So when she told me that the guy next to me was leaving in June, I sort of grew anxious at the thought of having a new roommate. I enjoy having the house to myself during the day. I enjoy the quiet mornings and access to the kitchen and laundry room. With another roommate comes the possibility of less alone time at home, especially if there schedule is anything like me.

But those fears were soon squashed when Mary announced that instead of getting a new tenant she wanted to give Nicole, now 9, a room of her own. Nicole has shared a room with her mother since her was a babe but now that she is older she wants her own space, as any bieber obsessed pre-teen. Because I have the smallest room in the house (which is medium size by normal standards) she wanted to know if we could do a switcheroo. With the guy next door leaving, I could have his room (with no changes in rent) so that Nicole could reside in mine.

A larger room? No change in rent? Yes please. While I adore this room, passing up a bigger one would be silly. Of course, while I knew that I would be potentially upgrading to a larger space in a few weeks I made no attempts to clean my current room in preparation. The guy next door is leaving tomorrow and Mary says I can move in as soon as possible. Preferably by Wednesday as Nicole has picked out the color she wants this room to be (purple. yikes) and painter will be there sometime this week.

While I am happy about getting a new room (and a new bed) I hate moving. Even moving just a mere two feet to my left is daunting. I have so many books, and cd's and dvd's to pack or rather to collect in order to make the move easier. I should have done that during the day instead of watching Court Tv and napping. I should have starting preparing my things for a new space instead of chilling in my current one.

Of course, that did not happen. And now I am mere days from moving into my new room with a mess currently in this one. Damn.

I apologize for the sporadic posting. Apparently I suck at balancing life, sleep and writing. Even with three days off this week, I haven't completed anything worth talking about.

And I must admit that I am really starting to hate being a reader for this literary agency. Because I am not paid for doing the reader responses I turn in, I feel less interested in actually reading the submissions. I put in about 10% of an effort to read and get a feeling for the entries but eventually succumb to sheer boredom and misery that I am required to write something about each submission.

I need to hang onto this gig long enough for it to look good on my resume but I admit this foot in the door opportunity feels more like a chore. One that I am not getting paid to even endure. And while I thought June would usher in a job opportunity, I have not heard anything back about future employment. I even applied (again) to the place I had that disastrous interview with last year. I know, I know, I know that I am only setting myself up for disappointment. But I am desperate and in need of a new job (quick) so it can't hurt to throw myself into the applicant pool again. Who knows, maybe she will hate me less the second time around.

Maybe.

I should really clean this room now. I will wait until the house is quiet so I can put the days worth of garbage outside. Note to Self: clean room more often. It will make packing things up a lot easier.

~Beckett

Oh, and I have a new Grilled Cheese post up. It's about the quarter life crisis, I am uber proud of the post because it's the most relevant and personal thing I've written on that blog.