Valuable junk

My dad called yesterday....AGAIN!!! though this doesn't seem like much to the average being human, to my family it HUGE. When my dad usually calls it's out of the blue, we talk for like 45 minutes, boxing...laughing most of the time, and the we know that he won't call for another 2 months.

But yesterday while i was studying for the chemistry exam(which killed me today i must say) i got a call on the cell from my dad.

I was shocked, 2 times in a row, it's like a record or something. My dad is sort of a lives in his own little 70's inspired world. His like a philosopher, a very eccentric philiosopher. But yesterday he asked me dad questions. Like if i was doing okay, and sudying hard, and eating the good food, and to be careful.

What?

Is that the same dad? Maybe the death of grandma is letting him know that he has to step up. I told my mom and she was as shocked as i was. It was weird. I mean i'm so use to be the strong, nonweilding one, making sure everyone is okay in the family, that it was weird for him asking me if i was okay. Like i thought it was my job to ask him that. I think fathers play a big role in our development. Like the make us feel safe and whole, and without them in our lives there is always this guard and hole in us. Its like i don't know how to be taken care of...i don't know how to just let someone take care of me, cause i'm so use to doing it myself. I can people can change.

Due to my uber tiredness, i have decided this blog will be "who is Beckett". I had to write that english essay, and i used the song by sia that i somehow interpreted as a song about accepting yourself cause when you don't that is when you get lost.

so here's to accepting my quirks, because sometimes i loath them

Beckett Amelia Hughes
1) I was born March 1, 1986. I was suppose to be born on my moms birthday, but she and the doctors said i came out when i felt like it
2) deathly afraid of Icebergs.
3) i love paintings by Edward Hopper
4) When i was younger i joined a church because i had a crush on the preacher
5) I am a plain eater. I like hamburger w/out cheese, i only eat cheese pizza, and the people at Subway know my order by heart: White Bread,Turkey, American Cheese, Lettuce, Tomato, Oil and Vinegar and Extra Mal. (it's really embarassing when there are a bunch of people in line though. I'm not a Subway addict or anything)
6) i wear the same checkered shoes everyday
7) i hum when i eat
8) i eat skittles from grossiest to yummiest(yummies being red)
9) My first kiss was by a boy name Jason, who i liked because he reminded me of the green power ranger(i was like 8)
10) admire Che(though he was communist and hung with Fidel)
11) Broke Marie's finger once by throwing a basketball, and missing the hoop horribly
12) Am very clumsy and have bumped into more doors, tripped on more sidewalks then humaningly possible.
13) in the 5th grade i convinced my friends i was a Vampire Slayer(damn you Buffy)
14) got detention for a week for stuffing tennis balls down my shirt in the 4th grade(my mom doesn't even know that)
15) have had Scarlet Fever twice in my lifetime, and almost died from it when i was younger.
16) in the 6th grade i was convinced that the Pet Store was feeding the aminals dangerous chemicals, so i pretended like i was from Australia(accent and all) and was investigating the store(my mom won't let that one down.)
17) in kindergarten i called 911 and told them about a boy i didn't like and if the could go arrest him
18)For the past 2 years i have dressed up a Tinkerbell for Halloween.
19) i use to have extremely long hair, but have opted for a shorter hair cut since.
20) in 5 years i see myself: In medschool, in Philadelphia, in an apartment, with a cat or a dog...oh with a volvo.
21) i've never been in a fight but i have been in verbal arguments( and once i was that kid who yelled "FIGHT" during an someone else's fight)
22) i have reading glasses that i hate to wear
23) have fallen asleep in a bathtub, while studying math(i read in a book that if you study in the bathtub it would somehow make you concentrate more, it didn't)
24) loved the movie grease.
25) When i was 7 i threatened my brother and cousin(who was babysitting) that i would run away, i packed my sleeping bag and headed around the corner. After being bored out in the backyard, i tried to get back in but they locked me out.
26) i have a small, birth mark on my belly.
27) i'm addicted to chapstick
28) I was almost skipped up a grade
29) I put quaters in other people's meters
30) I feed the pigeons outside my window.

Goodnight.

Hospitals

My brother was in the hospital yesterday.

My mom called me on the phone and left a message. My room has the most horrible reception ever, so all i heard was "...In....hospital....Morgan....got..." and then blank, i was so nervous that instead of pressing the button that saves that message i deleted it. My mom didn't sound too upset from what i could make out on the phone, but my imagination went haywired.

Got What, did Morg get shot (i know, i know but i didn't know what to think), get ran over, pass out, fall down the stairs....Then i was mad that my mom would leave a message like that on the phone but not pick up when i try to call her. So i'm pacing the room, and need something to get my mind off of that until she calls....so i go to the book sale and buy 4 books. Damn. By the time i get back to my room, my mom calls. Morg is okay...he just has...i can't say. It's too embarassing. Way embarassing. Lets just say he's a little constipated.

I laughed my ass off, as my mom tells me about my brothers frantic call on her cell, saying that he can't go to the bathroom. I laughed out of relief, and out of the fact that my brother has been to the hospital more time than any human should.

Morgan(it's his middle name, but we've been calling him that since i remember)..is not clumsy, he is just naturally getting himself hurt. He was hit by a car when he was 8, he jumped out of this massive rope tower at the park and had a concussion, he was bit by a dog,and then we were all in a car accident when we first moved here.

I've been there when all those accidents happened except the dog and the constipation. So naturally the hospital to me is like my second home. Some people hate hospitals, who wants to be in a place with sick and possibly dying people. But someone i see hope, when i usually end of walking the halls. That people can be made better, that life can be restored there. When Morg got hit by a car, i rode in the ambulance with him. I sat in the front with the driver...who i guess to amuse a 6 year old, asked me questions. I guess he didn't know that i was a pretty talkative 6 year old, who wanted to know all about his job, and talked about being a doctor when i got older.

When Morg fell off the thing in the park,(i was 12 then) i hung out with the doctor in the catscan room. Once again talking about my non existenting medical careeer. The took to me as i to them.

When we first moved here i was around 14, maybe. We were headed to our new house when we were Hit in the side. Going into a pretty steep ditch. The airbag smacked me in the face pretty badly, but Morg got hurt the worst. My mom, had to get small stitches on her face, Morg had a chipped tooth and a big gas under his lip that had to get sewed up. I think i have a pretty rational personality sometimes because my mom does not handle pressure well. So i have to, so she doesn't completely break down.

The air bag, was so powerful that it literally punched me in the face, and while my brother and i looked like they were in a car accident, i looked like i had just gotten in a brawl with some people. We each had to get examined to make sure we were okay to leave.

Doctor: Are you feeling okay
Me: I'd feel better if you let me go to the bathroom.

He laughed, i guess thinking that i had to "go" but i really wanted to see what my face looked like. I thought it looked hot, i was always told that i had a pretty face, I've been called dool by every old man in the universe, and when i was really into acting people recommended that i do print work, of course with my bruised face, i took it as a badge of my toughness and struted through the place like i had owned it.

Something about that place, makes me heart beat hard...like it's where i'm suppose to be. I'm always reminded how hard people fight for survival in that place, and i guess that hows life is.I'd like to think i was a fighter. My brother sure as hell is.

So back to Morgan. And my mom and his adventure in the hospital. This summer i am going to be "volunteering" at the hospital. It's not really being a CandyStriper, but it sort of is. So when my mom went there yesterday for Morg, she meet his doctor, who she can only say "Beck, i almost boned him yesterday". My mother...a one for words isn't she.

So... no my mom did not shack up with the doctor, but she said he was the most gorgeous man she had ever seen. You should have heard her, she was pawning about him like she was a school girl.

Mom: Beckett, i am not playing he was so gorgeous like he stepped out of a GQ magazine or something.
Beck: Who
Mom: Morg's doctor. Morg told me his was big, so i was thinking he was a fat doctor, but when he stepped in to meet me, i almost passed out
Beck: why?
Mom: he was so FINE. I mean he was big alright, like 6'2, black hair, those cute little glasses you always talk about, and built like a great GOD.
Beck: he was Greek
Mom: I don't know, but my knees was buckling he was so fine.
Beck: he can't be that fine?
Mom: he was that fine.
Beck: God, why wasn't i there....Do you think i will see him this summer?
Mom: I hope so, you should have seen him, all of a sudden he leaned against the wall, with his hands folded....
Beck: Clearly a hot manuever....go ahead
Mom: and in my mind, i was like "are you trying to taunt me, i will jump over there right now..."
Beck: Mom, thats gross, i don't need a visual.
Mom: and then he was like, in his sexy deep voice "if ever need to get in touch with me, if you have any questions or concerns, i work at the free clinic on Wednesday, just give me a call".
Beck: Damn, even that was hot
Mom: So i was like, in my head "i can call you anytime, tonight"
Beck: I don't think thats what he meant mom
Mom: i know...but you should have seen him
[and then she like does a girl scream so loud, i pull the phone back]

Lets just say, i am more than happy that i am going to be working at the hospital this summer.

Damn, my chemistry test is tomorrow. I should be studying, but once procrastination has won. I spent 2 hours in the library, because when i'm in my room, i...well write in my journal, watch tv, and listen to music.

I turned in my essay for English class, can't wait to get that grade back, i may have half-assed it. I am just so nervous about getting this chemistry down. Mike...oh Mike...didn't even bring it to class. The professor totally hates him, she said that she won't take his excuse for missing class, though if it were someone else she probably would. She stares at him as if he is an idiot, and asks him question all the time in class, secretely hoping he would get it wrong. We are learning about Deconstruction today, and we listened to Wonderful Tonight by Eric Clapton and are trying to find the hidden meaning the song. I was trying to hold my eyes up.

When she starts the class, she mentions what happened last week

Professor: So if you weren't her last Tuesday, we had a pretty good class. Crazy Chick in the corner made cheesecake and then we shared some pretty personal things with our reader response. I say it was a pretty good class, and we learned a lot of interesting things.[of course she didn't say crazy chick, but i would have said it]

I stare at her like...were we in the same class.

Clearly Crazy Chick put some crazy juice in the cheesecake.

Pins...How i hate thee

So as i figured my night out on the town with my old friend Marie and her new friends was a horrifying train wreck if i do say so myself.

Like most things i was trying to find a way out of going with all my might.
"maybe i can say i got sick"
"i have to write an important paper i haven't even started"
"i saved children from a burning building and am too tired to go out."

After seeing how stupid all of those excuses were, i gave in and just decided to go ahead with the whole stupid thing.

At 7, Marie showed up, i brought along my Scene It game, just incase things got so boring i had to whip it out. Me and Marie by ourselves are good friends, yes we annoy each other to the point of no return sometimes, but all in all i respect her, and i guess thats what friends do. We were going over to her friends Jeff's dorm too play Scene It, and wait for Dani(a girl) to come over so we could head to the all night bowling thing.

Jeff seemed like a nice kid, though so nice that you felt bad for him. He kept asking if i was thirsty, if i was cold, if i needed a belt(b/c for some reason my pants don't seem to want to stay up). After saying that i was fine, we decided that to waste time we would play Scene It.

I am the champion at Scene It, a movie trivia game, it has a DVD and everything, but unless you play it with people who like movies, it's a waste of time. As i was crushing them in the game, i soon notice that i was the only one screaming at the top of my lungs about my skills in the board games, and after defeating them in less than 30 minutes we decided to play volleyball frisbee.

It is just as it sounds. A volleyball game, but using a frisbee instead of a ball. It was like 8 by then, dark, and we headed to the net and sand. As a kid my mom said me and my brother hated the sand. Everytime i touched it with my bare feet i would cry, so i kind of winced at having to play in the sand and even more when they took of their shoes.

Though i never played volleyball frisbee, i had amazing skills in that too. Now Dani hadn't shown up yet, though Jeff kept asking when she would (he has a crush on her, more on that later). As soon as Marie got the call that Dani had arrived at the dorm, i slowly became the 4th wheel. Dani, like Jeff is uber nice. And though it was nice to be around normal people for a change, i saw how extremely boring it was. We played frisbee for like the next hour. The Rock-a-Bowl didn't start till 11, it was only 9:15.

To prevent myself from not falling asleep, i suggested we go get some coffee. The bowling alley was 45minutes away, so at least that would make time go faster. Dani went in the car with Jeff, watching the two of them chase after each other(literally) and slap each other on the butt. was not cool. Before the coffee idea we were planning on going back up to his room and playing another round of Scene it, but when we got to his room his roommates were there so we vetoed that idea. We roamed the hall looking for another TV, the whole time we were doing that the three of them were poking each other, smacking each other butts(all in a playful manner i guess), and talking about past things they have done. Though i wasn't into getting my butt smacked by some boy and girl i had just met, i knew that they had a bond that i did not, and i accepted it, daydreaming about various things while they were dong that.

So we made our way into town, i in the car with Marie. On the way she keep asking what i thought about them...the only word i could come up with was "there nice".

The ride there was better. I understand that this was my break home and she wanted to hang out, i don't understand why she wanted to do that with 2 other people yet alone in a bowling alley at night time. So we squezzed in what we have been doing since we last talked in that 45minute drive. I always wondered how Marie made friends, she's loud, brash, agrumentative, and a know-it-all, yet she somehow made friends with these seeemingly nice people. When we got to the Sandwhich place(which serves coffee) it was closed. We stood in the parking lot for too long deciding what we should do next. After talking about what we should do, we gave up and just decided to go to the bowling alley and sit around.

Once again i felt the uncomfortableness of the situation. Marie, Dani, and Jeff seemed to gravitate to each other, and i was left staring at the exit, then looking at my watch seeing that i had 3 more hours of this to go. We were standing around, and they started the poking again, and tickling each other. Jeff looked at me as if he was about to tickle me, but i guess my "dude i just met you face" told him i wasn't into that.

So Dani and Jeff have known each other a little longer than Marie and Dani have known each other, which is about a year. That is how Marie meet Jeff, through his association with Dani. Jeff has a major crush on her, which is more evident than...well it was pretty obvious. He asked her out a while back, but she said no. I could tell he liked her even before i meet her b/c of his face when she called the first time, and mentioned that she may not be able to make it. He was willing to drive one hour to her house to get her. Though Dani doesn't like him like that, i guess she is just a flirt. Marie says that she likes boys until they start showing an interest back and then she doesn't like them anymore. Whatever it was, it was weird. The whole night, they were sitting close and touching each others knees and once again smacking butts.

When 11 o'clock came i was more than happy to get this show on the road. We had picked out fake names before the game started. Marie and I are planning to go to Mexico for our start of Med and Vet school. No...NOT CANCUN. I want to see the ruins and she wants to go to the coast. As my spanish teacher says, Cancun is not seeing Mexico. She knows a boy names Vladmir whose family owns a farm in Mexico, and he is willing to go with us. Of course going out, we need fake names, because we don't want any one checking us up in the phone book becase they meet us in Mexico or any other place. So my bowling name, and "hey this person is creepy give them a fake name" alias is Celeste(marie made it up, it sounds like moleste to me) and her fake name is Elyse( i made it up for her). We gave Dani the name Kanga because of her shoes, and Uber nice Jeff was Gangsta Pimp. I should have used Mama Bling as my fake name, but i forgot. We went by these names the rest of the night.

I'm not a bowler, the last time i went bowling was about 10 years ago. I was an avid bowler when i was a kid, i was on a team and everything. I was MVP and was awarded a bowling ball. But i haven't bowled since and i wasn't looking forward to it.

I sucked, more than anything else. Gutterball after Gutterball was what i bowled. Then to make me feel better they suggested we bowl one frame the old granny way, and even then it was gutterball. eventually i got some pins but i must say my highest game was like a 60. I know...horrible. It was so boring. The three of them were smacking anf poking and i was dosing. We decided to put 5 dollars in the juke box, so that our songs would be played most of the night. I guess because i sucked so bad, they let me pick out the songs. Oh Yeah!!!!

I picked Bruce Springsteen, Zeppelin, Coldplay, Queen....i was like a Dj or something, and as it blared through the place i felt like dancing. Not that i did, but when Stairway to heaven came on, with the strobe light and darkness of the place, i felt like running in the middle of the lane and doing and Heather Graham(in the video American Woman) dance in the lanes. I mean i felt like i was just going to run out there and just...DANCE. I must been born in another decade, but Then Peter Frampton came on and i almost broke out in dance again. I love Rock.

I was isolated throughout the night, and to amuse myself i watched other bowlers. We were sitting next to what seemed like a group of little, bowling men. They were barely 5'2, which made me feel good but bowled as if there life depended on it. They kissed the ball, before letting it roll into the lane as if there wasn't a care in the world. I notice that there are different kind of bowlers.

Those who bowl as if it is a profession, who take it as seriuosly as anything. There eyes are glued to the lane, as if it is some metaphor for life. They come in with there own bag, ball, and gloves.

Part-time bowlers: Bowling seems to be an escape for them, maybe kids are driving them crazy, maybe work is stressful, but something about a ball rolling down a lane is relaxing and soothing.

The drunks. Funny to watch, spend most their day there, smoking, laughing it up.

And there everyone else, just trying to pass the time along. Well and then there was me, arms crossed, not really knowing what to do. They must have notice that i wasn't having a good time. They kept asking if i was okay, i kept saying yeah. I wasn't. I hate bowling. To give a visual of what it may looked like.

I walk to the line, real slow. Kind of dragging. I swing the ball back, for some reason kick my leg up, the ball bounces unto the lane, seeming to be going right down the center of the lane, but hallway down the aisle it takes a sharp left or right and gutter. Then i creep back, sliding in my shoes, hands folded again until it is my turn.

The last song i choose was Malibu by Hole. I don't like Courtney Love and i think Kurt Cobain was a quitter but something about the song, always makes me sad. My dad called right before i left and i was more than excited, and that song reminded me of him. So i had to take a breather and go outside.Marie followed me and said she was sorry for bringing me when she knows that i hate bowling.

Me: it's okay really, i had a fun time picking out the tunes
Marie: so what do you think of them
Me: he's really nice, and she's nice too
Marie: Just nice huh
Me: i mean i'm so use to....the craziness, i don't know how i feel about it being so normal.

I mean if Marie wanted us to have a good time, and get to know each other, we should have rented a movie, ordered pizza and went back to her place. Though i'm not going to be best friends with her new friends a better social situation for this already awkwardness would have been to not take us to a place where the music is so loud we are screaming just to hear each other. Something a little more relaxed would have been better. I expected to be the third wheel, but man i didn't expect to want to throw myself on the lanes for the complete boredom that took place.

Once 2 am came around, i almost ran out of there. We said our goodbyes and Marie drove me home.

And then i stayed up for the next two hours trying to figure out Requiem for A dream(damn you Jared Leto).

Marie called me today and said that Dani and Jeff felt bad for my not having a great time. I did have a great time, picking the sweet tunes that were played in the bowling alley.

I'm telling you i was 5 minutes away from doing a Napoleon Dynamite-isque performance in between the lanes.

Would've been more interetsing if you ask me.

It's a new Dawn...It's a New Day

Early morning post.

I absolutely love the mornings. I love the image of life emerging, of things waking up, of the millions of people making coffee this morning. Of pajamas and morning news. Especially of oatmeal, and my occassional glance of the cartoon network, while i am munching.

I've never been a night person, which i thought i would eventually grow out of, but needless to say, when i'm sleeping, i will make sure everyone knows, and then respectively wherever i am, make a comfortable spot for me to sleep on. Car, airport, school bus after a speech competition, and maybe on the person sitting next to me. It's lie between 12:30 and 2:00 my eyes are basically closing, i am struggling to hold myself up, and such. If i can make it past two without passing out than i have insomnia and can't sleep.

But the mornings they are different. I am totally a morning person. I wake up as if i have been in hibernation for years, and i take in all my surroundings like a new born baby. My room has the best view in the house, and of course when i looked outside, i wanted to go running.

I use to be a runner. Yes, so i'm not that athletically devoid of skill. I mean i didn't run for a team, but i was called Speedy in school but the Gym Teacher, up until the 8th grade or so when we moved. It's something about running, that seems to clear your mind. So at 7:00 this morning i crept out of my room, and had a jog around the neighborhood. Though i can't really run in these hospital scrubs my mom bought me as pj's but just being out there, tripping and freezing, was enough to clear my head.

I thought of Heather. I thought of my dad. I thought of my mom and my brother. I thought of my new cousin and hoping that she would like me (she's like 6 months old). I thought of the future, and of the present. I thought of Nicholas.

I do set up these high standards in my mind of people. I mean almost impossible standards that i know they cannot fulfill, and i don't even expect them too. I do it with everyone, new or old that i have meet. But for me it's just another protective mechanism for me not getting to close to people. So really it's just detrimental on my part, because i trying to protect myself from the realities of relationships that i set up these unrealistic expectations of them.

I liked to believe in my mind that everyone i love doesn't have these faults, and that all the world is beautiful and that life is WONDERFUL. but by experience i know they aren't b/c i have put complete faith in people, without those high expectations that always seem to come up short, and i always seem to be left crushed. So i set up those barriers, those "he will be lovely and nice", "She will be the greatest friend ever" though i know people aren't like that.

My "ex" best friend from New Rochelle totally left me in the dry when i was having a hard time last year when i had to leave School and come back home, she didn't care and she wasn't there emotionally to comfort me, she had moved on. I don't even want to talk about Nicholas. My head will have to process that whole relationship another time.

I always had that fear of being left behind. Like i wouldn't have dealt with the whole "home Alone" situation as well as the kid in that movie. I mean sure crooks and the craziness that ensued i could handle, but the fact that i was left out of a vacation with the people i kind of cared about would irk me. I don't like being trapped in a situation from prevents me from being a part of something i like. But i'm trapping myself kind of. And maybe little by little these barriers have to be stripped down (or sweating in my case, i'm still running here), and i will emerge from this like a new Dawn, like a new day.

You know that point in running, where you feel like you can't run anymore. Her heart feels like it's about to burst out of your chest, your legs hurt like crazy, and your house which is just a couple of houses down seems like miles. By this time i was about to collapse, but i at least waited to i hit my lawn, to complete collapse on the ground of course as a school bus of peering children come by. The embarassment never stops i tell you.

Staring up at the sky, i heard the song in my head, Nina Simone "Feeling Good"(DAMN you Six Feet Under)

And this old world is a new world
And a bold world
For me

Stars when you shine you know how I feel
Scent of the pine you know how I feel
Oh freedom is mine
And I know how I feel

It's a new dawn
It's a new day
It's a new life
For me
And I'm feeling good

And i couldn't help but smile...i love the morning. By then though the little faces in the bus were totally laughing at me(seeing that bus stop is right on the corner), and i retreated in to my house.

Now for totally unrelated news. I hate getting my hair done.

Though my mom LOVES to put me through the torture of putting curls and other frilly things in my hair, so "you look like the beautiful girl you are Beckett". Yadda yadda yadda, after surprising me early in the morning with her..."do you want to go out , Beck" and me agreeing,we went to get my hair done, so " going out" meant going to a place where the do you hair but students of the hair school do it. So i was their guinea pig.

I love how that trick still works. At 19, i thought i wouldn't still fall for the "lets go to the park routine". So sitting in the car, i'm like "this isn't the way to the park".
MOM:Well i thought it would be fun if you got your hair down before we go to the park
I was fooled again. She's a tricky one that mom. As i'm sitting in their waiting for the doom of getting my hair down, my mom tries to reassure me....unsuccessfully

Mom: we have to support them in their dream Beckett, one day you will have to do the same thing. Don't you have to practice on people before you can become a doctor
Me: Dead people, mom. If i mess up on them, they won't care.
Mom: oh come on, you are being irrationalm how can they mess up on a simple wash and shampoo.
Me: [glaring at her]

So i don't complete faith in people touching my hair. Everyone i have been to says they have the perfect look for me

Hairdressers of the past
#1: We can give you a little flippy thing
#2: oh a curl would look so beautiful
#3: You have amazing hair, i can but like a little french braid with the...
#4: One word: BIG

No, No, and More No.

When i try to tell them i like it to look like i just woke up, and kind of messy...they do the "srcunch nose up face" and give me the style they want. I even brought in a picture of Selma Blaire when she had short hair, and somehow i came out looking like a bride on her Wedding day, wearing a Ramones T-shirt and Chuch Taylors. Ridiculous.

Needless to say, i did not trust my hair in the hands of a student of Hair.Everyone's so smitten by the color of my hair, i am like a lab rat. My hair is technically black/brown but for some reason in the sun, it becomes this auburn color, like i head radiating from the sun. I hate that my hair does that b/c people are always touching it.

She did an okay job, though as soon as i got outside, i ruffled my hair, shaking out any possible curls that may have been. But it was all the things she said to me in their that blew my mind. She was a 20 year old girl, who was overly nice and constantly asking me how i was feeling. As she is washing my hair, she's asking "how old are you" i tell her. "You go to college". I tell her. "What's you major". I tell her. And then out of the blue

Hairdresser: So do you have a baby and a husband.

I almost drowned myself with the water. But instead i just did the awkward laugh and said

Beckett: NO, NO, NO...i'm just a student

So yes most of the girls from my high school has already gotten married and started a family. Which there is nothing wrong with that. But that is not in my near future. From watching my mom, i can see that starting a family is a selfless act, you have to completely be invested in the kids and your spouse, and you can't have a selfish bone in you body, because it isn't about you anymore. I still want to be a little selfish, and all i could do was laugh. Me Married? I don't think so. Not unless his name is Gael Garcia Bernal, then i would make an exception. =)

So then after that, she kept asking me about being a doctor, like i was one already. Word got round like there was a possible doctor in the wing, and i was treated like gold. I hate having to tell people i'm a pre-med student. Not because i'm embarassed but because people do the whole "treat me like i sleep on silk sheets act"(i've slept on silk sheets, i nearly slide off, funniest sight.), so after being crowded by 5 girls asking me "doctor" question i was happy when they were done and i was out of their.

I have to get some school work done. I still haven't finished my essay. Damn you English ...complete writers block when writing reader response to a song.

SPAM NO MORE!!!

Damn you spam.

You won one over on me.

This abuse i have taken from you for so long is no more.

I bid farwell to thee and your tasteless advertisment.

Hello Spam Blocker.

I'm really tired.

I've bought the Six Feet under Soundtrack, instead of listening to my favorite song(from the album) on the internet. So like the old days in my house, i will fall asleep with my extremely big headphones on, to this amazing album.

Now off to dream land . Sorry for the extremely short post, and even more putting up the Spam Blocker.

Tomorrow or Saturday i get the awkward experience of hanging out with my old friend and her new two best friends. I think she does this on purpose so i will be the odd one out.

Good Night

Fools In Love

So i am home, Which is why this post is being written late at night, instead of my ususal after class blog time.

I was exicted about going home today. And once again may have skipped out of Chemistry class with a smile on my face. I'm excited about the arrival of my mother and brother until they actually show up. Like from a far we are a great functioning family, but together we are a complete mess.

As soon as she called saying they were 5 minutes from the University, and to meet them outside, i grew dreadful of their arrival. As i waited out there the image of my mom pulling up, my brother jumping out of the car and dashing to greet me with a hug. We would be in an embrace for a while, and like a happy little family drive back home. Not the case.

My dorm is located right in front of a small loading, unloading parking lot for students. There are only five parking spaces. So as my mom drives into the parking lot, instead of parking in the spots. She parks the car right in the middle of this small lot, preventing any cars from entering or exiting. She jumps out of the car and runs toward me, but not to give me a hug, but to ask me to show her where the nearest bathroom is, my brother is refusing to get out of the car because she left the keys in the ignition. I am trying to become invisible in this moment as people pass by, the whole time i was praying Art boy would not walk by and see the craziness called the Hughes.

After the initial awkwardness,and my mom finding a bathroom, they bring my stuff to the car and we head home.

Returning home, is like returning to the past you a) want to return to b) want to escape. I love being home, but being in this small town is nerve racking. I always hated watching those talk shows where the girl comes on talking about how much she was a geek in high school, and now she is hot and stuff and wants to flaunt it to her tormentors, b/c i always figured they were liars. Underneath all the "I'M HOT NOW AND I WANT YOU TO SEE HOW HOT I AM, AND KNOW THAT I AM OVER WHAT YOU DID TO ME" is really the same scared, weird, hurt girl in highschool with this need to be acknowledge. Needless to say i am still the fragile, outcast girl from highschool and i don't make a deal of acting like i have somehow changed into this "NEW, BETTER, Beckett". I'm pretty much the same, they just don't see me every weekday in class.

It is weird seeing old highschool people in stores. Like if they weren't my friend in high school should i be obligated to say hi to them when i see them in a store. My answer is usually no. Unless your name is Peter.

Peter works in the grocery store. The grocery store 5 minutes from my house. The one my mom shops in everyday. EVERYDAY. Did i mention i once had a crush on Peter. Last January, my mom told me that a boy who worked at the Supermarket said he knew me, and that he wanted to sya hi. Of course i berated her on who it was, and when she mentioned Peter i was a little excited.

He plays the cello, i play the violin. He plays the guitar and had for a while this wild mane of hair that i was in love with. In high school, i always kind of thought he was cute, and we talked and i guess enjoyed each other company. But i notice with the boys i like(i don't do this anymore), i completely act like i dislike them(damn maybe i still do). In the 11th grade(most depressing high school experience) i completeley withdrew from any impending chemistry between us. He keep asking around if he had down something to make me stop talking to him. It was numerous reasons, but i just opted for saying "i'm just having a bad year". He even offered to but me the Goonies DVD, to make me feel better. It didn't. But during the last couple of weeks of that year, we returned to our friendship/slightly crushing thing.

In 12th grade, he went to a school for the arts, for his cello playing. And i didn't see him anymore. Which is why when my mom mentioned that he wanted to say hey, i was more then willing to go to the Supermarket any chance that i could get. Though i barley say two words to him. I can't seem to think of any words to say to him when i see him. I draw a blank, and though he has that eager look like he wants to have a conversation with me, i usually just tell my mom i am going to wait in the parking lot.

It's easy to have a crush on someone when you aren't reminded of what crazy things irks you about him. Like i keep remembering that in high school he was just so...shady, and not someone i could rely on. But with me being away at college, and not having to be reminded of that all day, i kind of had this idea of him being Perfect. That he was "lovely".

But today was different. Me walking into the supermarket, my heart for once not beating, my eyes not glancing around for him, i felt like everything had changed. We go to the cash register, and though Peter was not the cashier we went to he came up to talk to me.

Peter: Hey
Me: Hey, how are you
Peter: Good, what you up too
Me: Nothing

And then i mention a few things i am planning to do when i get home, sleep, sleep, and more sleep.Okay so it wasn't an extremely deep chit chat, but it didn't even need to be a chit chat. I don't have a crush on him, maybe i never did, maybe it was just easier to like someone far away than deal with liking someone who lives in my dorm per chance. And though i am not going on a talk show to talk about how much i have changed, and to prove it to someone who degraded me, or someone who disappointed me in high school, i am a little changed. So i'm still awkward, and clumsy, and yes i still hum when i eat, and my down days are killer, but somehow emerging from all this is the stronger and more open me. i'm different in a way, in a way that made me leave the supermarket with pride, and not with a flushed face for once.

Plus my full attention is on Art boy. Though i haven't garnered the nerve to get beyond our grade school romance, i know that i like him enough that Peter is no more in my book.

It is strictly grade school what me and Art Boy are doing. Everyone remembers that first crush in school, where the boy completely acted weird around you in his strange way to say he liked you. Well this has moved up to College. Where we walked past each other, avoiding glares, that we almost bump into each other. We pass each other on the street, smile coyly as if we are holding a secret between the both of us. Sooner or later though we have to move up from this. Right now i have opprotunity to completely develope something with him, and in my fear i am letting him just slip away. though the fact that i make him nervous, is quite funny. He's like 6'1 and completely nervous around me.

It funny how awkward relationship are.

Well i am completly exhausted, and will try to write earlier tomorrow.

The Carnival called my English Class

I love english b/c i lke to write, i don't even mind having to analyze poetry cause i'm not as bad at it as i thought i was, but what took place today was WEIRD.

It tip the chart of weird. And made me feel Normal. Which i never feel normal.

So today, was our last english class before fall break. She took it easy on us, because i guess she knew that most of us were pretty much ready for vacation and wouldn't be paying attention anyway.

Today was my professors birthday, she has been telling us since last week, not because she knew we would care, but just because it is her favorite day, and she told us that day would pretty much be lax, group work, and stuff.

So after walking in the beautiful rain again today and coming into the room, it was the normal sight of people sitting at their seats and doing pretty much nothing. When English Professor came in, with a smile on her face, she notice a box on the table that i had not seen until she mentioned it.

Instantly the girl who i make small chatter with sometimes stands up....and that's when the craziness begins.

Her name is Laura. She is a little weird but who isn't. She not one of those students who you remember off the back. I mean she speaks in class, but not anything worth remembering, and she has a face that you just don't remember like somehow it blends in with it's surroundings. Up until today i thought she was an okay girl, until she walked up to the box on the table, and pulled from it...2 homemade cheesecakes, that she had made herself. She had decided to make a cake for the class, and the professor. We are all staring at each other like...WHAT?!

Wouldn't have been bad, if she didn't have on her crazy Martha Stewart voice the whole class period, her eyes seemed extra psychotic today. The gaze that never blinks is the only way i can describe it as.

Laura: We all thought of doing this
Class:[giggles can be heard, even the sound of heads shaking in puzzlement, but other than that, silence, i guess we all decided to reap in her brownie points.]
Professor: Oh you didn't have to do that, that is so kind of you guys.

So like we are in the fourth grade, we are handed out the cake. I didn't want any 1) because i don't eat in front of people i don't know. It's a weird quirk of mine, i hum when i eat, it's been described by my family as the Beckett song. It never fails so i try to save myself the embarassment by not eating in front of people, unless i am comfortable with them. This boy who had a crush on me pointed that weird quirk of mine, as he was describing why he liked me. I still said no, but it was sweet of him. 2) she might have slipped some weird crazy potion in it. 3) okay maybe not, but i really wasn't hungry, and sweets in the morning give me a headache.

Laura and another girl handed out the cheesecake. and i was in charge of forks. So i just handed them to the person behind me, a job well done i say.

Now this wasn't just really cheesecake. This was a CHEESECAKE. something off of the food network, it was vanilla, but with chocolate embedded in it, so it made these cool swirls. It looked Delicious, but me eating that cake would be against everything i am, which is SUCKING UP. Clearly she was raking in the points, though i think my teacher is wise enough to see past it. Everyone who had the cheesecake, gushed about how great it was, and Laura was beeming with her crazy MARTHA STEWART EYES.

Who makes Cheesecake, or anything for that matter of fact for a professor. It is just weird and not something college kids, or any kids do. I mean i barely say hi to my professors around campus, yet alone have two Food Channel looking cakes, sitting on their desk on their BDAYS. And she made a Handmade card, i mean like it was made from someone at Hallamrk. SHe constructed a cake on the card, with glitter and cute little saying on it. It was disturbing. And tasteless in my opinion. I mean WHO DOES THAT. A CAKE? CARD? WHAT?

So after they finish the cheesecake, we go over Reader Response. Which is basically taking a poem or a short story, and relating it to personal experiences. Though this seems really easy, i've been having problems writing about personal experiences that my class will eventually read. So i've had a sort of writers block of late on my essay, which if turned into today would have gotten me extra credit. But if i turned it into it would have been half assed, and something i wasn't proud of. So i'm turning it in the regular due date, and hopefully i will be proud of it, and she will give me an A. Of cours Laura brought in hers today, of course.

For the past weeks we have been bringing in poems or songs, bringing them to class, getting into small groups of 3, discussing the poem, and them 1 person from each group would discuss what the poem meant to them, and give a thesis statement. Today i didn't have a poem, so luckily i didn't have to present. So for about 20 minutes we discussed our poems, i listened to my 2 groupmates. And then presentation began. B/c it is a personal response, most of them would be personal stories, so we opened ears we listened.

The first guy went, did a good song, talked about how it reminded him of the relationships with his friends. Done.

Then Laura went.

She clutched the poem to her chest, and began. Reciting the poem with deliberate slowness, making it sound all dramatic. I almost feel asleep. After she is done with her poem, she tells about her senior year in High School(she is a freshman)

Laura:[Creepy MS eyes, Monotone voice, once again she speaks in weird silence and stress of words]: This POEM reminded me of.....HIGH SCHOOL. I was doing bad things in highschool...me and....my friends....would SKIP...and go to the WOODS...and do really....bad....THINGS....i was REALLY....bad. We....usually did THESE...bad things...with...BOYS. We were real....BAD. about 2 weeks ago...my friend...OD. This poem reminded me of that.

So while she is speaking, this girl behind me, gets up and exits the room. The teacher looks her in the face, and it is evident that the girl has started crying. I mean CRYING. My attention is now on the door, but when i turn back to Laura, she hasn't broken a stride in her speech. Like watching a lifetime movie, with bad acting, and uncomfortable moment she continues.

This is the most uncomfortable it gets for me. The girl comes back in and though she has stopped crying. Her eyes are red, she is holding back tears, and the people in her group and doing the "are you okay" whisper. The military boy is almost grabbing her hand, and reassuring her that it will be okay. Now what Laura did next was the icing on the cake. I guess seeing that her story had taking affect, she said the next line as if she was reading a script. As if this was a lifetime movie, and at the end they have that long speech, where everything makes sense and yadda yadda yadda.

Laura: If i was to make a thesis for this paper...it would be...LIFE...[longest pause i have heard in the history of pauses]...is...Rough....and the good....oh how good they are[by this time i am rolling my eyes, and holding back the laughter]...Die young...and she....left us...to....SOON.

And then as dramatically as she stood up, she sits down.

Weirdest thing i have ever seen in my life.

I mean, the whole class was quiet. We have no idea what just happened. Girl behind me is still crying, the teacher who is stuffing her face with cheesecake says "very nice" and then Aubrey has to get up and say her poem

Aubrey: I don't know if i want to go after that

My thoughts exactly.It was so awkward and in my opinion inappropiate. The whole cheesecake thing, the making the card thing, her crazy act thing. I was freaked out, I meani heard of brownie points, but this tip the scale, this is way off center, this has left the ballpark and entered a new hemisphere.

I've figured it out. I'm not weird. Everyone else is here. Completely crazy. I was mortified by the whole show. And the girl kept crying the rest of the class, which lasted for another uncomfortable 30 minutes. Everyone is giving their condolensces, though they don't know what happened. I'm thinking everyone has just went crazy, teacher is still munching on cheesecake, Mike isn't their to revel in this awkwardnessm, Laura is staring at something on the floor with crazy intent. And i make a dash for the door soon as she says we can leave. I have never felt so dirty in my whole life, and took another shower when i came back to my room.

After that though, i had an amazingly good laugh at the whole thing(not at the crying girl though, that was pretty sad) but at the slew of craziness that happens during the day. Needless to say it put me in a better mood, because though i have my extremely pitying days, and personal issues to figure out just as the next person, i am not as crazy as i think i am. Or at least i don't rub that craziness off to people.

Yesterday i got a knock on the door saying that a male visitor was waiting down stairs for me. I stared at the girl as if she was crazy because i have never had a male visitor. She describe him almost the way my crush looks. Tall, dark hair(which in the rain is curly, like he has just rolled out of bed), kind of green eyes. The person downstairs said that i had meet him in Barnes and Noble. I was still drawing a blank. Yes i am a bookstore whore and i spend my free time reading books that i won't buy, but no i don't make a habit out of picking up men there. I was in my pj's, so i just grabbed my keys and made my way downstairs. My heart was racing, maybe art boy found out what room i lived in and wanted to talk about the "club", maybe in my craziness i had forgotten that i talked to someone in Barnes and Noble(one is located on Campus), maybe i meet him last year. But i was hoping it was art boy. As i pushed open the door i saw...

Well not art boy. Unless art boy is a PIMP. I mean a literally PIMP. Yes he was tall, yes he had dark hair, and greenish/ blue eyes, viggo mortensen-isgue in the face. But he also had gold fronts and a pimp cane. Okay i didn't techinically see a cane, but i imagine it is in his car somewhere. Luckily he said i wasn't the girl, and i slinked off relieved i wasn't the girl he was looking for.

Time to eat my burrito, and study for my Spanish Exam Tomorrow. And i go home tomorrow. YEAH.

Breathe Me
By SIA

Help, I have done it again
I hav been here many times before...
Hurt, myself again today
And the worst part is there's no-one else to blame...

Be my friend, hold me
Wrap me up, un-fold me
I am small, I'm needy
Warm me up, and breathe me

Ouch I have lost myself again
Lost myself and I hav nowhere to be found,
Yeh I'll think about my break
Ow I've lost myself, ow, I will, I'll say

Beckettville: Population 1

Town Motto: Town of Self loathing, save yourself and turn back now.

Queen of Self Loathing strikes again.

It don't know what puts me into those self analytical moods, where i percieve that i can't do anything right and that i have pissed off someone in my past life and am doomed to roam this land alone. It strikes upon me in those moments and then i am sad for the rest of the day.

That day was last night while i was listening to The War soundtrack as i was trying to fade into la la land. The room was real dark, my headphones on, i'm staring at the ceiling again, and the thought comes to my mind.

This thought had been leading up since about Saturday, but came into perspective while i was trying to sleep.

I had a good weekend. Filming lasted til 10:30pm, i stayed til 3 because i had stuff to study for and sleep to do. It went a lot smoother this weekend, though not as fun as the last weekend. New Jersey and Boston weren't there b/c of football games, but i had a good time anyway. The set looked way better than last time, and the actor who played the lead male didn't have the child molestor eyes that the supporting male lead has. Everyone in their is a media art student. The talk about technical aspects of movies, how amazing a scene to a movie i've never seen is, what actors annoy them, ect...I can talk about some of that stuff, but i think they think it unusual for a pre-med student to want to be involved in the process. Like i can see them thinking of jobs to give me, so i am not bored. While they play with the camera, i'm studying for chemistry. They give me jobs that usually deal with continuity and organizing. So i must admit that even among the "artist" i feel like an outsider.

Doesn't help when you have the Art Director, with her exotic name, air of artist snubbery, but overall niceness has all the boys fawning over her. Not that that would have matter, if i wasn't the only other girl who pretty much is pushed to the side when "exotic name" is present. Dave the producer when he was talking to her said

Dave: We all love the cool arsty type girls, thats why we are so glad that you are here.

As i sit in the corner with my nose in a biology book. Questions go directly to her, as if talking to me while somehow infect them with my medical knowledge, which is none so far. Though they are nice, and pleasant to be around, i feel this disconnection with them, not because i totally don't love art, and would like nothing better than to spend my adulthood wrting in some far off place, selling books, and retreating to some quaint little town in Europe with my uber intelligent but not pretentious boyfriend. But i need that balance. I need for me to like art, and be involved in science.

They are amazed that i am taking Chemistry and Biology, History, and Spanish, and English without having a nervous breakdown. But i thought everyone took a courseload like mine. They informed me that their exams are more like projects, that they know about early on in the semester and that aren't due til the end. WHAT? I couldn't function like that, i need to be educationally stimualted all the time. Somehow in all the craziness of my acedmic career, i like to be pushed. I like the struggle and proving to myself that i can do it. (New Thing i learned about myself). I think without it, is where i would really have the nervous breakdown, b/c i constantly need to be filled with knowledge that though is a stuggle for me to learn, but the fact that i conquer is so fullfilling.

So i felt a little out of place. I felt like i was infected with the medical plague and to not be infected with it, they didn't say to much to me of any merit. Like unless i was talking about movies, not indepth conversation where present.

I told my mom of my frustrations. I've never been a girl with an image. I don't need to label myself. I not a walking billboard. In essence i am a poster girl with no poster. In my infinite wisdom, i see that people love being defined. Either you are an Artist, with his/her artist friend who go to plays, and coffe shops, and wear interesting clothes to express yourslef. You could be a Intellectual. A scientist, who wears glasses, book smart. You like logic, answers, order. You wear suits at meetings. You could be a Frat Boy/Sor Girl, general stereotypes you can insert. But it seems like everyone is categorized. And it frustration cause i don't want to be in a category, i want to just be.

I thought i would find a place among the artist b/c i like art. I love paintings, i love music, i love movies. But i don't dress like them. i don't wear my hair five different shades of red, i don't wear a skirt with knee socks, and though i wear chuck taylors, i don't have them in every shade of colors. And though artist seem to always talk about how they are "outsiders" and shunned because they are different, they don't seem to be pretty closed off. Like you have to prove your quirkiness to be one of them. When my cellphone was not working(i wrote about this in another post) i went to this girl art girls room, who i assumed would be really cool about letting me use her cellphone. I mean we are hallmates, and i would totally help in a situation like that. But she totally blew me off, looked me up and down, discared me like yesterday's leftover, and even now when i see her, she has that air of "im cooler than you" because i like art.

College is just one big separation, but of cliques. But unlike highschool these cliques mingle a little more. So as i am ranting this off to my mother, she says that b/c i don't fit in, i'm am actually free and more of an individual than those who claim to be. Which is true and i understand and i even appreciate that she sees how great of a person i am turning out to be, but being an individual is lonely. Being mature, and wise is all great and dandy, but being lonely sucks, and though most times i can escape to my room from the world, sometimes i want to escape from my situation and myself but i can't, and it makes me sad.

So of course when i went to bed, i was in the self loathing mood, seconds before i drifted off to sleep. Asking myself "why i am so weird", why am i so quiet and reserved. I totally like that i am free, that maybe everyone else is just a liar and putting on an act, or upholding some image, being a part of a category b/c it's safer there. I mean wouldn't you? Why would you want to be free if that if it meant you were alone. On this side your lost and no one's looking. Price you pay i guess. Sometimes i rather be a liar, just to be a part of something.

5 days at home. This time i will actually have time to write from my house...well hopefully. Once again i can't wait to be in my own room, with my cats, and mum and brother. Wednesday needs to be here already.

Better Version of Me

Damn you Fiona, you've done it again. Genius.

So i'm still feeling a little crappy. The splitting headache i have had all day, hasn't put me in a jolly mood. And it must look a little strange as i hold me head in complete agony, as the professor stares at me, thinking that i am taking a nap. I wish.

Yesterday was a bed day. Nothing better, than having the remote in one hand, pillows piled up so i feel like the Queen of the castle, and blankets swallowing me whole. I faded into sleep and waking state pretty much the whole day. But by 11pm, i was unusally restless, and had no idea what to do with my time. I did some chemistry and somehow this headaches have turned me into a math genuis. Because i was whizzing through the problems. At about 12, after doing a rendition of Riverdance, to the dismay of my neighbors below me, i jumped back into bed. Of course now with a slightly bigger headache, but at least more sleepy. So my college, and maybe others, gives us free pay per view. We don't have any movie channels, so there is one channel devoted to playing pay per view movies, and some other old favorites without censoring. I liked the movie the Ring,and though i was less excited about seeing the sequel when it came out in theaters, i was excited when it was on last night. So turning off the lights, for dramatic effect, i watched...in utter horror. It was the worst movie of my life, and i want those 2 hours back that were stolen from me in watching this less then superd sequel. The boy annoyed, the crazy little girl annoyed me, Naomi annoyed me, and that fact that Martin Henderson wasn't in it annoyed me even more(i know he died in the 1st...damn did i spoil it...oh you've seen it by now...but he was so beautiful they should have brought him back anyway, post girl coming out of tv, not deformed Martin). So after that, i turned the lights and stared up at the ceiling.

I have had insomnia before. I ususally just stare up at the ceiling, with a million thoughts running through my head. So was the case last night

Random Beckett thoughts

"Is that a star on the ceiling, must have been left from last year. It's not glowing though, why won't it glow. Tomorrow i have chemistry, don't fall asleep, he'll probably call you out and embarass you...he wouldn't do that he's nice. Though he does have man boobs, not there's anything wrong with that, can guys wear bra's. I wouldn't see a problem with it...wait yeah i would, if cute art boy wore a bra, i might think he liked wearing girly underwear, not that there's anything wrong with boys who wear bra's, whatever makes them happy. Gender is so weird, like why do all the girls who play softball here look like dudes with a pony tail...okay so i haven't seen all the girls who play softball but most of the one's i've seen look like dude's with ponytails, dudes with ponytails aren't horrible...just depends on the placement of the ponytail. Low ponytails are cute, i wore ponytails once. Not anymore, my hair isn't that short for ponytails, maybe i will wear one tomorrow. Damn tomorrow is Friday, Mike, lab, Chem, Spanish, I studied for Spanish right. Why was Sissy Spacek in that stupid movie, she was a good actress...did she play in Sybil....no that wasn't Sissy...Damnit who was in Sybil...that was such a good movie, Sally something...[look over to the computer]...i can just look it up on the computer...[start to get up. HEADACHE] damn veto that. Sally...jones, smith, davis, f----FIELDS. Sally Fields, she was a good actress, just like Sissy Spacek, i wonder what happened to her...OH yeah she was in that horrible.... "

Then i fall asleep...finally. Other than last night, i usually get insomnia when i am completley upset/nervous. Insomnia is a bitch. My eyes are droopy though they won't close, my body is heavy though i can't sleep. i unfortunately usaully think about the past.

So on Wednesday, in the wonderful world of facebook, i got in touch with a friend i knew in Kindergarten. Yes...all the way back to the age of cubbies, and staring at the kid you ate glue. Her name was Heather, and she was sweet and nice, with curly red hair that bounced as she walked. And freckles that were on her nose. My mom remembers my first day of school because unlike the other kids, who held on to their moms, i wanted her to leave. In her words

First day of Kindergarten
Mom: Beckett do you want me to stay for a little while until you get comfortable
Me: I'm okay mom, you can go, i'll see you when i get home.

She said she was a little sad, but proud that at a young age i was so independent.

I walked up to this nice girl who was playing at the building block station, and asked her

"do you want to be my friend"

"Sure...my name is Heather"

And we were friends until i moved to New Rochelle when i was ten.

She was my first school friend. And her family was like my family, i spent most weekends there, and we were like sisters. Closey attached and alike. So needless to say when i was typing in random names in the search box, and i say her picture and recognized her name i was more than a little happy. We wrote each other some messages and exchangd IM. on her IM she put the link to her journal...which needless to say, were her syaing how much she hated herself. I mean entry after entry were "I hate myself" "Why do you hate me". I felt all of her pain, and it made me sad. I always envisoined that my old friends, would all be happy emerging adults(unlike myself) but maybe i was wrong, maybe i just keep forgetting that they are humans, and this image of them that i had was competely wrong.

That maybe i'm not the only, completely unsure of who they are. That i'm not only, though it feels like it.

Okay...well back to sleep. Movie thing tomorrow, and i wrote the director saying that i could only stay till three. My head hurts, and unless he wants someone sleeping on those nice comfy couches, that it's best if i do what i have to do, and hit the bed.

O' Sailor

Sickness has taken over.

I barely made it through the day.

I'm tired, my head hurts, and my food still takes bland.

Though that didn't stop me from sitting out in the light drizzle b/c they rainy day was extremely beautiful.

Art boy smiled at me today.

Fiona Apple's new song O' Sailor, is in complete rotation.

I had to write b/c i would feel bad if i didn't.

Now must continue on sleeping.

For other than writing this unusually small post, it is the only thing i can do.

Beckett A. Hughes

Daydreams

I daydream a lot.

I mean A LOT. When i was younger, it was beneficial to always have my head in the clouds. I never got bored, i came up with cool games to play, and my younger cousin loved that even though i was 10 and he was 6 that i would play stupid PowerRanger games with him, and act out all the fake fighting. Oh if someone had a recording of that i may just die.

You'd think the older i got, the less time i would spend daydreaming. Not the case. I daydream everywhere, in my room, standing in line, listening to people, but especially in class. Now even with those comercials that dictate that if you can't seem to pay attention that you have ADD, i totally disagree and think it just a way to get us all doped up on drugs. I daydream, cause i feel completely comfortable with my escape to a better place.

Usually in Chemistry i am off to another place. Which i know i shouldn't be doing, but the drone of the professor deverts my attention, and then i am gone.

What do my daydreams consist of: They use to consist of "N" which they still do most of the time. I imagine that in large class, as i am just dosing off, i notice in the corner of my eye a figure standing in the door. He is completely gorgeous, tall, dark hair, piercing eyes(though of course from my seat i can't see those piercing eyes, but i assume that they are piercing). I satnd up with out realizing it. The figure goes to the professor, i guess telling him that he is here to take me away. all eyes are on me as i am just standing there, the girls are completely jealous, the boys are completely envious. The professor calls my name, and me and the figure finally make eye contact, i grab my stuff, tripping through the aisle(even though this is a daydream that fact that i am very clusmy will always be present in them) and as i approach him, dropping my stuff on the floor, staring at him, we don't have to say anything to know what we are feeling...

OF course then i totally fade back into reality and continue trying not to fall asleep. Most of my daydreams aren't mushy. Although lately i can't help thinking about Art Boy, and stupid things like holding hands, and cuddling, gross i tell you when you are learning about gases in Chemistry and the kid next to you is fidgeting like no tomorrow and there is a fly buzzing around, and an unpleasant smell has just gotten to your side of the room. Pleasant though when i think of how sweet he may be, and even about his quirkiness i witness when he gets to talking about movies. For some reason, i keep passing him on the street, he has this deep voice and it's funny to hear him in this deep tone discussing things like Kubrick, and Batman.

I notice that my daydreams, make my expectations so high about people or situations. They are so unrealistic that when i actually become face to face with them, i am let down and disappointed. I expected i would have grand friends, we would have cool conversations about movies, and music, photography, ect...we would be a close group of friends who were cool in our own way. My family life would consist of not having to tell my mother to decorate for the holidays, a closer relationship with my immediate family, my brother being more of a role model, and me being the ideal me. My love life would be far better than it is now, Art boy would come up to me and tell that he was totally in like with me, we would balance each other out...I know this isn't logical. That life would boring if it was like that, though safe, and comfortable, it would be extremely boring.

I guess i'm not looking for safe. I'm not looking to be comfortable and stagnate, and my daydreams are my emergence into that idealistic place that i know isn't attainable, because it isn't meant to be. Though cuddling with art was very pleasant in my daydream, but whatever.

Last night we had another hall meeting. This was a get to know each other hall meeting. So we lined up, and the Ra's would ask a question. If it applied to you, you stepped forward, if it didn't or you just didn't want to answer, you stayed against the wall. It funny how any game played with people, it always turns a little perverse. They started asking question like "who have had sex this semester." "This year" "who is saving themselves for marriage (i.e. Are you a virgin) "who is celibant", needless to say, i did not step forward.

Okay...so...um... The whole time the Ra is asking the questions like "are you a virgin, are you saving yourself for marriage, are you celibant" she's staring at me the WHOLE time. I was looking around, cause i was like "is she just asking me" or maybe i have a booger. Apparently i am like the virgin mary of this whole dorm. Is there light radiating from my body or something, should i start bowing when all pass me, or maybe i should have a fellow follow me around with a violin as i pass the hall. It was so awkward. So i choose not to have sex with anyone, WHATEVER, no it's not for "i'm saving myself for marriage" bull, just that i don't see the point in sleeping with everyone who says he likes you.

I am completely emotionally attached to people, and doing something as big as sex is just not what i'm emotionally ready for yet. I was walking down the street today and some girl was yelling to her friend that her boyfriend "friend with benefit" cannot just sleep with her, but have a girlfriend on the side. I don't want to be a girl crying over that fact that he didn't call me the next day. But i hate being looked upon as some odd comodity, because i haven't done it yet. So once again i awkwardly walked away after all was said and done, and returned to my room.

My mom said she was having a bad day because she is worried about my brother, and what he plans to do with his life. I'm worried to, he just seems to be stuck in this lazy state of nothingness. It's totally okay if you have no idea what you want to do, but there's a difference between not knowing and not giving a damn. And he seems to just not care what happens to what he will make of his life. There's only so much encouraging you can do before he has to take the initial leap.

It's weird how the leap is the hardest part of the journey. When i was younger, i was the queen of the park. There were these fireman poles that you could slide down. There was three of them. One was about 4 feet off the groud. The second was higher up, the 3rd one was the highest. At the time it seemed to be about 20 feet. The daredevi lin me, never liked sliding down the poles, but jumping was the things the kids did. Almost to prove yourself. Staring down at the ground which seemed so far, and so deadly. Your heart is racing a mile a minute. You kind of reach for the pole as leverge, but you know that jumping is the only way down you can go. Counting to three, i held my breath and jumped. It seemed like the fall would never end, time seemed to slow down, the air is rushing up into your face, but the most exciting part is hititng the ground, and knowing that you had the strength to just let go and jumped. And that even if it was scary, you have the ability to make that leap anytime you want.

Parting Gift

I'm getting sick.

I can feel it in my throat and my head. People say doctors make the worst patients, and i am not an exception to this rule. It starts with the insane migrane, i start to feel lightheaded and tired. I get cold all of a sudden, and start layering myself with millions of sweaters, and then everything i eat taste like a bland mixture of grossness. That's actually what happened last night. After doing some late night studying i had to close my eyes my head was hurting so bad. I think go chilly for no reason, and put on 3 sweaters, a couple of sweat pants, and curled under a blanket for the remainder of the night. I am a big baby when it comes to getting sick. My mom thinks it's funny, because one) she knows how much i hate being sick and 2) she knows that i most be the only girl in history where cold medicine does not affect them.

When i was younger, my mom would by the medicine that puts you to sleep. It worked like a charm for my brother, who would fall to sleep instantly. Like a fighter i refused to go down. Blanket in tow i would drag myself down the stairs, coughing and sneezing, find my place on the couch and attempt to be productive by reading, writing, or anything else. I usually just end up hours later asleep against something. Fall break is coming up, and it sucks that i may be home for four days, being sick. DAMN GERMS. I try to elude you for the past two months but you snuck up and got me, DAMN DAMN DAMN.

Another test, another nervous breakdown. Though it was still one of those " I don't think i failed" reactions as i walked out of the lecture room, i know that until i get the test back, i will think that i did horrible, though in my heartest of hearts i know that i did pretty well. Mike actually showed up for this test, and though he said he did pretty well, i don't really trust his word enough to 1) care 2) believe him. I've been talking to this boy named Ryan for the past couple of weeks. We have Bio lab together, along with mike, and somohow we have formed this weird kind of humor togther. Mike really doesn't like that i hang around with him. You can tell because when me and Ryan talk, he walks away and rolls his eyes. Today as i was walking back to my dorm, and Mike stated that he thinks Ryan is weird, and thinks that Ryan is a little touchy touchy, b/c last week he touched my shoulder. I don't think he's weird, i think he's funny, and though i do pretty much meet crazy people in my daily life, i value that he can laugh about stupid stuff, instead of being obsessed with the minute aspects of being.

I don't have the greatest track record with having amazing friends. Um...most of the people i hang out with seemed to be damaged from the experiences life has thrown them. I don't know if i just appear to be a person who will accept them as they are, but they gravitate towards me, as if i can somehow help them find the answers to their problems, if they only knew i didn't have a clue about anything and was just as lost as them. I get two extremes when it comes to friends, those who want to be taken care of, as in Sabrina who was molested when she was younger and as a support system i was her sort of diary for all that has happened to her, or who want to take care of me, as in Matthew who appointed himself my bodyguard and treated me as if i was a fragile being. With all the relationships with people i have made in the last couple of years, i took it as a reflection of who i was. Maybe i was this strong person people could rely on to get them through the tough times. Or maybe i was this fragile, breakable being who was always two steps away from falling apart, and people had this need to make sure that didn't happen. So in a way i never really knew if i was an anchor or something that needed to be taken care of.

I guess thats probably why i am in this complete stuggle with myself...there is a quote that fits me to a tee.

"what she dreaded was to be possessed and still excluded"

I can't say at this point in my life, i know exactly what i want. From myself, from others...i do know that right now i am just looking to be happy. I know happiness seems like it is so easy to obtain, but not really. I have this want to be a smiling, happy, one of those girls who just exudes stability, but then i have this notion that i'm not those girls. I don't even want to be them most of the time. I am a living oxymoron, and right now i don't have problem with it, unless it drives me to the brink of insanity. But i feel as if i'm getting to the brink of something, whether it is just being okay with who i am, or growing into this stronger and somehow more stabile person along the way, but now borderline is what i face, not really knowing what path i want to take, who i want to be.

I remember reading the bell jar a couple of years back, and feeling the same kind of anxiety that Esther felt because she had all these opportunities and paths she could take, but taking one meant that she had to abandoned ths rest. (well now parting gift seems like a perfect title though it was just a reference to Fiona Apple's new song i'm in love with). I guess that could be apart of it also...

"...I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story. From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked. One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor, and another fig was Ee Gee, the amazing editor, and another fig was Europe and Africa and South America, and another fig was Constantin and Socrates and Attila and a pack of other lovers with queer names and offbeat professions, and another fig was an Olympic lady crew champion, and beyond and above these figs were many more figs I couldn't quite make out. I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn't make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet. "

My options seem endless, and they drive me crazy because i want them all. And the more i more i just wait, and ponder what choices i want to make they seem to go further and further out of reach. I always felt that i needed to define myself, that at 19, i would be completely sure of who i was. And yet i know that you don't ever really become sure of who you are, just comfortable with it.

Saratoga Rain

I walked outside today to the pleasure of the cool breeze brushing my face. I know it must have been strange for those to see me, as my face was staring up at the sky. Eyes half closed with probably a smile on my face. It something about the days when the weather is perfect. The sun is shining just right, the wind is lightly blowing, and even my hair seems to catch the rythmn of the wind, and i feel as if all is possible. It those days, when you can't be mad at the world, because you see this small things of beauty we are given. When realize thats it's not the earth which makes life ugly, but the people who are in it, that can destroy the beauty and magic of life.

So i did it, today i am officially a psych major. I was nervous, i have this horrible thing of second guessing myself, and at any moment as i was walking to the building i was contemplating running back,and forgetting the whole stupid idea of major change. My feet were heavy as i walked what seemed miles to the building, but i made it up the stairs, determined to do this. The lady was really nice, we talked about the evils of biology and chemistry, and she stated that most med school students were not biology major( big load off my shoulder) . She also told me of all the years left i have of school and not to try and rush to graduate so early. Though i am still going to graduate early, i figure the 6 months off i can travel or something, and maybe i can write in this journal from France, Italy, or Oh...SPAIN. So that was extremely good news, and now i don't feel drowned in the fact that i may have spent 2 more years taking biology courses.

I'm notcing that more and more in my emergence into adulthood, that the divorce of my parents has probably affected me more than i previously assumed. I mean...ookay so yesterday i was watching cold case files, which i usually don't watch. Needless to say it was really sad, some guys daughter died in a fraternity fire, and he thought the fire was an accident but really it was arson, and he and his daughter were close and she was his strength and now that she was gone it was devasting to him...yadda yadda yadda. Before the girl died of smoke inhilation, her friend who was trying to save her but couldn't because the door was locked and the window for some reason had bars on them so she was pretty much stuck. He is outside the window, holding her hand and teling her that help is on the way, and she's fading out, but before she completely collapse she asks her friend to make sure that after she is gone that her father is okay, and that he is never alone( cause her mom died when she was 12 and they only had each other).

Right then and there i am like balling, i mean tears are rolling down my face, and my voice is quivering, and i'm mad at myself for being such a girl and crying, yet tears are still falling. It was completely horrible. And that's when i realize that the divorce of my parents has probably takng a bigger toll on me that i assumed. I mean i don't think they should have stayed married, my dad was abusive to my mom, and somehow she said when she was pregnant with me that she knew sooner or later she would have to leave. So when i two in the dead of night, with my brother in one arm and me in the other we left, and never returned to him as a family. Of course most weekends were spent with him, but leaving him was always extremely hard for me. I felt like a traitor b/c we were going back to this warm house, filled with love and childhood memories that he would never get to experience. I mean him and my grandmother always lived close by, and everyone knows him in the neighborhood, and he has a million friends. but i knew that us not being there was always hard on him, and when he saw us it was always a reminder of what he had missed out on.

Of course right now as i write these words the tears are falling down my face again, and i feel completely stupid. In some way i feel that i should be mad and angry at him, because my mom and brother are. They long ago grew tired of his vagabant lifestyle, his nonreliablity, not being able to look up to him as a role model. They have kind of washed their hands of believing in him, and have giving up on expecting him to change. In some ways i feel i should be as angry as they are, because i know that he is all those things, but i can't. I feel the only thing keeping him going now, since my grandma/his best friend died, is the complete faith that i have in. And that someone out there has complete trust and love that he will be okay, and that his life wasn't a complete watse.

Because i don't think i could go through life, never letting him know how much he meant. That even if he's not going to get some Father of the year award, that i would have him no other way, that him just being there was enough, broken promises and all, that the fact he attempted was enough, and loving him back has been the easiest thing in this stupid scheme of life that i have be able to do with all my heart and the only thing i have ever really been sure of.

The Breakfast Club

Yesterday was my first day on shoot, and needless to say it was awesome. I of course was nervous the whole night before. I have this christmas stomach, which has stayed with me all these years. Christmas stomach is an affliction that young children have the night before Christmas, or at least what i had before christmas. I was excited about the day, that i couldn't fall asleep. I would close my eyes, then wake 5minutes later hoping it was morning. I still have that now, whether it is going on a trip back to Westchester, or a my birthday is approaching, i can't fall asleep. So Friday night, i stayed up to about 3 o'clock, doing nothing really but not wanting to go to sleep, because of the fear that i would have a horrible time

Call time for the crew was 10pm. I arrived at 9, sat outside for 45 minutes, went upstairs to the sit at 9:50 and was the first person there. The Producer was there, and as i tried to sneak past him to take a breather, he spotted me.

Producer: Beckett right?
Me: Yeah
Producer: You're early
Me: I'm always early
Producer: That's a good thing.

Slowly more people starting to show up. I was the only girl. They were nice though, we set up the set, stood around confused as to what to do next, and had laughs at out inexperience. The Director pretty muched stayed to himself, in totally director mood, which is like watching a neurotic man try to see his vision come to light, though none of us could see it. There was one from Scotland, who was really cool. I guess because most of the work was hands on constructing, they expect me to left heavy things, and move things around. Though i was willing. The kid from Scotland was in charge of cutting wood, though he has never cut it before, but somehow took pleasure in cutting something. For the majority of that hour, i spent "supervising" the work. I handed people nails, moved light things, and wondered how i was suppose to decorate this truly ugly room.

The walls were these wierd peach color, with a charley brown t-shirt border, the funiture was pretty, but the little odds and ends that make a house a home, where not there, and for the scene which was suppose to be a girls apparent, it looked sort of like a bachelors bad, with a carpet which smelled and looked like someone had pissed on it. For someone who had so much ideas for the set, it was a little surprising that the Art Director had shown up. As set dresser, i can't really do anything until she brings the material for me to decorate, so like a sitting duck with nothing to do, i picked a corner(those Damn corner) and watched. Watching was cool, it's weird to imagine that just a year ago, this was a concept, this concept grew into a story, this story to pre-production and now it's a vision. It was inspiring.

Boston showed up(sorry to refer to people by there hometowns) with a girl i had noticed at the meetings, and a boy i had never seen before. I don't know if it was because we were the only girls there, but slowly we kind of gravitated to each other, as she too took a corner and watched. She's from New Jersey, and as if written in the stars we clicked instantly. We were both set dressers, so we found some cloth, threw it over a table, and called it a masterpiece. Looked like crap, but it's all we had to work with. DAMN ART DIRECTOR. After staring at the set for what seemed like 5 years, we put it upon ourselves to get some febreeze, cause the pissed carpet smelled pretty horrible.

We walked the campus, talking about our hometowns, and reasons why we joined the club, we laughed as if we had known each other for years. After that little trip we made it back to the studio, spraying the carpet, and then went to go look for a table to use as a kitchen table. DAMN ART DIRECTOR. Of course the two shortest people were left to carry this heavy table up 3 floors and through some narrow doors, but we made it.

Finally the art director came, and she was not happy with how the set looked. Which is weird cause we had nothing to put in the set. While New Jersey and I were gone, the boys took it upon themselves to put up a picture and a flower on the table. She thought they looked ugly, and said we should have been watching those details. Though she is the ART DIRECTOR. and she showed up 3 hours late, if she had been there at 10, she could have considered all these things, showing up minutes before shooting starts doesn't leave you much time to want to change the set how you saw it in your mind, you should have done that at 10. Other than that small drama, shooting started as planned.

The actors were pretty scary looking, i mean the supporting male character had these creepy eyes, and i didn't know if he was staring at me or the light, or New Jersey, or Boston, or ART DIRECTOR, so i slinked away to escape his creepy glare. I mean i didn't expect them to be Gael Garcia Bernal, and Natalie Portman but...maybe not so normal, and average. There was nothing spectatular about their appearances. I mean i like cute that grows on you, neither of them had it.

There was sitting around once shooting started. And i don't think we expected that. All 9 of us were in this little room, eating quietly and staring at the ceiling. After a while though, jokes were being made, games were started, and we were this weird thrown together group of people. Who had not really known each other before that day, but in a common quest to create art we bonded. The producer was really cool, we all ended up playing hangman and eating way amounts of chips and cookies.

We then listened to the band who had offered to supply the music for the movie. We just listen to their cd, which was really bad. We once again moved to a smaller room, and listened to this noise blaring out of the computer, our faces must have shown our displeasure with the noise, and one by one we crept out of that room, back to our little whole.

Walking down this long high school like hallway, because for some reason the art school is basically built like a old highschool,with wooden floors, and lockers in the hallway, someone had remarked that it was like we were the kids from the Breakfast club. In this big building, all alone, we had formed some kind of magical bond, that doesn't happen often, and probably wont retain the sort of freshness as that day. New Jersey said that it was a weird kind of Saturday. It was weird because none of us woke up thinking we were going to in a building, laughing over a game of Hangman,and eating Sunchips with a familarity as if we had known each other before that day.

But it was a weird Saturday that i think we would all do again. It was really fun. Me and New Jersey left together, laughing at all that had just taken place and about the actors, and how crazy it was, but how fun it was.

It sucks though because i will only see them on Saturday, but i guess that makes even a little more special, an oasis from my crappy weeks filled with Mike and god knows all the other jerks i encounter during the week.

My mom warned me not to tell Mike about the club, who instantly wanted to join when i told him a couple of weeks ago that i was interested in this new club i had joined. My mom said that eventually, there will be a point where i can't keep hanging out with him because of whatever reasons i am. It's not that i don't know, friends don't treat there friends like he treats me, but i've always been bad at letting things ago, even when they aren't good for me. I think because in some way i assume it is my lack of something, that made the relationship disintergrate. When really it's his lack of beind a good friend, I was hoping in a way that he would notice how good of a friend i am, or wanted to be to him, but he's taken that for granted, and at this point, i don't think it would be wise to keep giving him the opporutunity of being a great friend.