And then there was silence

She hasn't called me since Saturday.

Which means she doesn't know that I am mad at her or she meant every word she said and doesn't care about our friendship. Either way it sucks.

I don't plan on ending our friendship (I've known her since i was 12) but at 24 she can't say shit like that to me, and then expect me to be all bubbly on the phone. I planned out what I was going to say to her: You crossed the line the other day. My feelings were hurt and I don't expect that to come out my 'best friends' mouth. I don't feel like talking to you for a while, but when I am my feelings will have recovered.

but this scenario could only work if she calls. And she hasn't because she has said crap like this before and she just doesn't care. Now I feel all kinds of low, and it's raining outside and my room smells weird cause I forgot to throw out a cup of hot chocolate that I don't even remember buying.

I bought a puzzle the other day because I have this need to see something completed from start to finish. Writing does not always produce a completed concept, so I needed another outlet. I use to love doing puzzles with my mom because there is something about patiently fitting small pieces together to form a whole image.

the picture is a simple white farm house, one of those southern ones with the front porch and the American flag. The skies are grey, it looks like rain is coming, and there are a few clouds in the background. I don't know why this picture spoke to me, but I want to piece together this house from the ground up. I need it to be whole again.

I need to be whole again.

Feels Like I've Been Injured Beyond Repair.

What a rough day.

The last couple of days have been really good. I applied to a job that I am excited about . I am working on a story which I enjoy writing. And I have slept beautifully the last 3 nights. The last one is the best news in weeks. I love my sleep, and when I don't get a good nights rest I feel all out of sorts. Like I'm not myself.

But today Marie said something that put a halt to my optimistic high. I called her on my way to work, like I usually do, just to say hi. She sounded like she wasn't in the mood to talk but I plowed through the stressed conversation anyway, and told her about some positions I was planning on applying to after work.

Though I want a career in production, I do apply to editorial assistant positions from time to time. Only because I now have an editorial internship behind me, and a foot in any door is better than my job at the bookstore. When I mentioned the particular job to her, she got all bitchy on me. Why are you applying to that job? It's not in production. Yadda yadda.

I explained to her that working at a full time job vs. part time is what I really am seeking right now. And as an entry level candidate I just need a foot in the door somewhere.

Bit for some reason, she seemed agitated and then she said this out of nowhere:

Listen, I'm going to say something really mean right now but you got a degree in nothing. Lets be honest. You aren't really qualified to do anything. So yeah i don't care, you need to just start doing something with your life instead of working at the bookstore like you have for the past three years.

Ouch. I'm glad you warned me about the 'mean part'.

She said this.

To.Me.

I am beyond hurt. I feel like I've been hit in the stomach. She makes fun of my degree all the time. She considers my major a concentration people choose because they can't do anything else. But i fucking disagree with her.

I was a biology and psychology major and during my time in those departments and I excelled in the English classes I was taking as a minor more than the ones for my Major. And not because they were easy and lush, but because I was challenged to think outside of the right and wrong answers. I was forced to analyze, and dig, and come up with explanations for things. I fucking rocked at English. Not because all I did was read books and write papers, but because I thought.

So, getting a job has been hard and I will have to forge my own path to reach my destination. But my degree wasn't a waste. My degree isn't just a piece of paper, it's the thing that saved my life.

While she was off having friends, and a boyfriend, and calling me only to tell me about her awesome life... all I had was English. All I had were those moments where i knew that I was taping into something...bigger than myself. I was good. I am good. English or not.

And for her to continually (because this isn't the first time) reduce my degree and subsequently my life to nothing, is unforgivable. Unforgivable.

I quickly got off the phone with her after that comment, and spent the rest of the day feeling raw and exposed. I don't know if anyone else gets like this, but when my feelings are hurt I am reduced to this feeling of ...exposure. Like when you get a cut on your finger, and it stings a lot when the air first hits it. And the reason you run to grab a band-aid is so that the air doesn't hit the exposed skin anymore.

I feel like that. Moments before the band-aid is put on. I am a fresh wound. I ache something awful and it stings. I don't even think she knows how fucking pissed I am. She hasn't called or text to say "hey, what I said earlier may have come out wrong. Sorry". She is probably sitting in her apartment right now with no idea that I seriously have clocked out of our friendship.

And I don't know what to do to FEEL better. I of course had 'the moms' cheer me up with her 'you are a talented, beautiful individual..." speech, but I don't feel any better. I feel in the dumps. I feel low. I feel...betrayed.

I'm beginning to hate my life. Seriously. And at this moment, I hate her.

9 to 5.

Worst. Fucking. Headache. Ever.

I went to sleep last night at some god awful hour ( 4a.m) only to wake up at 7:30 to drag myself to work at 9.

I haven't worked an opening like this in a long time, and my sleep problems are not helping. If I was a medication person, I would go to target right now and grab some sleeping pills. It's come to the point where it that's bad. I don't remember the last time I had a good nights sleep. And it's beginning to take it's toll.

Of course the moment I get to work, everyone wants to talk about something that happened on Tuesday. That something being that Brad, funny ol' Brad, was fired on the spot yesterday!

I'm really getting sick of the bookstore. Some days we are so understaffed the customers want to jump on our computers (we don't have the self service computers) and locate the books themselves. I had the pleasure of yelling at one such person the other night. Who later came to apologize to me for using the employee computers but by then my bitch face was in no mood for apologies.

It's not even that we don't have the people at the store to cover the opening.mid and closing shifts. It's simply that our store manager wants to 'withhold' hours as much as she can. I don't know. It's a corporate thing. She is given so many hours to disperse among her employees. Less hours means less hemorrhaging of money. In close: we suffer with little to no hours, she wins because she is saving them.

We have lost 3 employees in the last month. 1 quit, 1 got a new job, and now Brad. Brad was funny. So he slacked off some days, and smelled like pot after his lunch breaks. But he was all into philosophy and did I mention the funny. The kid was hilarious.

I don't know the specifics. He called out on Monday. Came to work on Tuesday and was fire on his lunch break. The store manager was not a fan of Brad calling out of work so much. And with his 3rd write up in her hand, she saw no other choice but to give him the boot.

I am a mighty fine employee, but I don't like having to worry about having (or not having) a job tomorrow. I mean, I don't worry about this at all, but I feel that as a retail worker who makes minimum wage, this scare tactics of 'we will fire you' is...dumb. I feel like she made an example out of brad, because he, like us, is a young guy who is too smart to be there but who doesn't have anywhere else to go until things look up.

Retail. It's torture.

Out of this headache though I had a sudden gust of "i will make it" momentum going on. I don't get those feeling every once in a while, but when I do it's like there is some reminder telling me to keep going. Some little feeling, notifying me that I am headed in the right direction. Even when I feel like I'm not.

And oddly enough, Brad being fired urges me forward. I don't belong at the bookstore. Especially when our worth is reduced to hours and low pay.

Time for sleep. Or at least an attempt to. Please, all I asks for is one good nights rest.

Rainy Days.

Don't get me wrong, I love the sun. Sunshine is awesome. But after welcoming in spring like weather the last couple of days, I am excited for the clouds. The sun brings out too many people. The streets here have been filled with happy people, escaping their homes for the sun. And all I want to do is escape them.

I spent the weekend closing at the bookstore, only to run into groups of people hanging outside of bars and night clubs on my way home. No one likes to stay inside when the weather is so damn pretty. But despite my affection for the sun, I am reveling in these cold rainy days.

Yesterday it stormed something awful, but I braced the rain and winds to head to the library. I needed some new things to read, and outside of the zombie steampunk novel of my nightmares (I don't understand the purpose of this book. AT ALL) I got a few good movies to watch all day. I might have been the only person outside to brave the weather. It seemed like, on my way to the library. But I love the rain, and it never keeps me inside for too long. I just love the feel of the rain on my face. Love it.

When I was a kid, I use to use the bathtub as an island. We didn't have air conditioning, so in the summer when it got hot in our apartment...it got really hot! My mom worked long hours, so we couldn't always go to the pool or beach to cool off. So, I would fill up the bathtub with cool water, put on my bathing suit and spend hours pretending the bathtub was this exotic place.

I would submerge myself in the water, and sometimes (only sometimes) turn on the shower and pretend that i was sitting under a waterfall. I use to love the feeling of the water hitting my face, and then my breath getting caught in my chest because of the excitement.

It's embarrassing to admit that I do this now. And yesterday I walked with my head towards the sky, just for that feeling again. I miss that feeling.

I had a long weekend. I closed Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. My sleep kind of sucks these days, and even though I stand on my feet all night at work, I have managed to come home around midnight and lay in bed until 3 o'clock. At first I was blaming my daytime naps for my late night problems, but I've always taken naps. Since college and I refuse to blame them for my insomnia.

I am painfully thinking about everything these days. Grad School? No Grad School? Australia? Pittsburgh? Philadelphia? Publishing? Film making? Steampunk? Sleep? that at night, I can't seem to quiet all of the noise and just rest.

A days rest would be nice. And all this damn rain outside is making me pretty sleepy, in a weird calm way that I haven't felt for a really long time.

And I don't want to do anything, but sleep right now. Despite the consequence later on tonight.

It's Just a Bunch of Teen Spirit

Oh, teens when will you learn that it is not acceptable to get wasted in the bathroom of a bookstore.

Ever.

I don't believe you will be racking up any cool points (do those still exist?) by drinking beer in a public restroom, with your friends egging you on. That is cause for some deductions in the cool point meter to be honest.

And when you become so sick that you start barfing on yourself, and said friends, you are not looking as hot as you think your are. Because barf never looks good on anyone, especially a slightly dazed and confused teenager.

So next time you decide to get wasted in the bathroom, remember you're being more of an ass than anything else. And yes, we are laughing at you. Very hard

Beckett.

Feels Like Spring to Me

March, you are so freaking weird. One day, there is a storm brewing so badly outside that it was almost apocalyptic and the next moment the sun is out, the birds are chirping and dare I say 'spring is here'. Seriously march, make up your mind already.

The last few days have been weird. I have gone back and forth between burning bridges here (amongst my coworkers), moving to Australia (and by Australia I mean anywhere besides New York) and applying to jobs I know I have a slim chance of getting (certain big league magazine place) but hey, I'm at least I'm forging ahead. And if all else fails, moving to the outback can't be too bad.

I am seriously getting to the point of 'stressed-out' which could account for my sour mood. I do not regret being a bitch towards Josh and Lexi the night before. I do regret being so affected by it that I couldn't channel my energy anywhere else outside of anger. Because that's what it was. I was, am, angry. Because there daily stress factors are reduced to whether a hot guy gives them attention, or when there next big party will take place. I am jealous of this, because my stress feel so much more profound. I don't know who I am, where I will be in the next few years, or if this persistence of solitude will be a life long (and lonely) venture.

Marie and my mom keep telling me that I need to take a day to myself. But in all honesty I wouldn't even know where to go. I really feel like I need to take a break from myself. Just a whole day, where I don't have to hear the voice in my head reminding me that I need a job so that I can pay rent, and loans, and feed myself.

I think too much. Way too much. I planned on a semi break today with a trip to the library. But I woke up at nine, went back to bed, woke up at 10, went back to bed, saw 10:30, decided against getting up, and then rolled out of bed around 11:20. By then I forgot what I was going to the library for, especially since by my count I have 7 books checked out, 3 dvd rentals, and a book from work that i have yet to read

Tomorrows a new day. It really is. By then, maybe I will want to get out of bed and head into the sun.

I might get some writing done today, fingers crossed. There is this amazing guy at work who is a legit artist. He draws and has had comics published by major graphic novel houses (some of his books are in the store). He is funny, interesting, a little warped guy but damn it all to hell...he's amazing. Yesterday I closed with him, and when we weren't talking about his weird appreciation for Body Odor (the story was actually really charming. He liked a older lady who worked at a sandwich shop. He use to hang around the store to talk to her after work. When she would hug him goodbye, he would smell onion on her. He associates that smell now with her, and for that reason is not opposed to B.O. I made a note of this quirk in my journal during my break.) we spent time checking out some cool art magazines and talking about how lame it is when people dye there hair a weird color to stand out from the crowd (that goes to you, girl with green hair).

Anyway, he introduced me to this sub genre called steampunk last night, and I have been googling away ever since. I am not a huge fan of sci-fi because I am incapable, or unwilling, to allow my mind to suspend the laws of time, physics and science. But this genre is pretty cool. Sci-fi/Victorian, I think? I'm diving head first into this world, and I was going to get a whole bunch of books exploring the themes of steampunk. I need to mix up my writing a bit, branch out, find my voice in other places.

But waking up late kind of fudged up that plan, and now I am going to eat greasy pizza and watch some horror movie produced in 1981. Oh yeah, I am living the life.

I'm Not Like Them, But I Can Pretend

I went through a weird Nirvana phase when I was in the 11th grade. Who doesn't. I mean it's Nirvana

It's classic girl meets boy story. Except that he had been dead for quite a while. But I still loved him.

I heard, but was not a fan of, Smells Like Teen Spirit when I was a kid. So when I came across a memoir about Kurt at the library I wasn't too sure I wanted to read it. But tragic characters are my favorite. Especially way too sensitive, artistically beautifully ones.

From the first page I was hooked and then spent the next few days reading a very in depth biography on him. At the time I had a car, and would drive all the way to the park to lounge in the backseat with the sun roof opened, reading this book while John Mayer played in the background (before he announced that his penis was a racist and all).

From there, I religiously listened to Nirvana. I soaked up all the songs that I could in the span of a summer. When I returned to school that year I was more depressed than ever, and wore torn jeans whenever I could.

My Nirvana phase lasted for about 6 months (thank god, because a depressed 16 year old is fucking scary). There was something to sad about Kurt. So sad that he made me sad, or worse, severally depressed. But there are days, even now when I play a song by him because the mood reflects mine.

And Dumb (hence the title) is one of my favorite songs by Nirvana. For several reasons.

I closed last night at the bookstore and it was horrible. I had the distinction of closing with the talk fests known as Lexie and Josh. Separately these two are hard to handle. They both talk a lot about nothing in particular but they make it seem so important you can't help but listen, until you realize they have said nothing important.

They are into themselves and their life way more than anyone else, but of course they do not care. Because caring involves listening, and they are too busy talking for that. I'm a different sort of person. I listen a lot more than I talk, but when I do talk I try to be considerate and funny and not too shallow though sometimes I can't help talking about movies. Sue me.

I have been in no mood to listen to people bemoan about their lives recently. I cannot listen to Josh talk about the great novel he is writing (they are ideas. not stories. generic at best). I don't think he understands publishing at all, or that there are a million guys like him but he still has this belief that he will sell a novel that will be turned into a movie which will make him a star! A star I say!

I can't listen to Lexie and her 'problems' that involve the one hand guy who asked her out, or the date she went on with a guy whose last name is Bush (this is a problem apparently), or the crush she has on a regular customer who comes in the store on a regular basis. Or that she is going to India, or that her life is so miserable because it is.

I cannot do it. And yesterday that's all they wanted to do. Josh has mentally penned the next big novel like 50 times (my favorite. FAVORITE, comment from him ever was "I think I have something great here. I mean I have just come up with 3 good names for some characters) , Lexie is not that interesting for all these guys who want to date here. And the moment I didn't give a crap about listening to them it was all "Beckett what's wrong with you. You are not yourself tonight".

It was frustrating and aggravating on so many levels. I don't understand. I know that I am completely honest with myself and with other people. I am initially a very hard person to get to know, but when I am fully present I am as real as real can get. The people I know seem to be either too young (even though they are my age) or want people to perceive them as things they are not. Instead of just being cool, they have to announce their coolness. Just to make sure we all know about it. And yet these people, no matter how fake or flighty or insincere they may be , have lives. And friends. And some days I barely have those two things to my name.

And I wonder if it's easier to pretend. Because maybe that is what everyone is doing anyway, just to belong. And I hate that there are days, like last night, when I can't even do that.

When I first heard the song Dumb by Nirvana, I could have sworn the lyrics were "I'm not like them, but I can't pretend". That 'can't' has been the basis of my existence for the last 8 years. I thought Kurt was being brave when wrote those lyrics. That it was a stance for resistance against the crowd. But a couple of weeks ago, when I googled the lyrics I learned that after all these years, I have been singing the lyrics incorrectly. Because with the removal of "not" in the sentence the lyrics change dramatically and hold a different meaning. Because he actually sings these lyrics with a hint of sadness: I'm not like them, but I can pretend.

Can. Can. How did I miss this. How did I ignore the more accurate meaning behind this song. It's not about how easy it is to be yourself. How simple it is to shrug your shoulders and say "hey I'm not like you, but who gives a fuck". It's about how hard it is to be who you are. It's about wanting to be apart of the crowd, even when deep down inside you know that you aren't. It's about the perils of conformity, because at least with nonconformity you stay true to yourself, even if that means you are alone. But being alone sucks, and crowds have a way of silencing your the insecurities about yourself.

And everyone wants to belong. Even when it crushes your soul. Everyone just wants to be liked. And maybe it's Dumb, but it's a truth so honest that I wouldn't dare question it. And I hate that this song is more beautiful because of it. Despite how sad it makes me, because the lyrics and sentiment behind them are so right.

In Another Time Girl.

This weekend we got hit by a really awkward storm that came out of nowhere. I only say this, because the day before (Friday) was not too bad. It wasn't a bright or sunny day, but okay by march standards.

Then on Saturday something out of a Stephen King novel happened and the sky turned black and tore Westchester up. I walked to work (miserable of course) in heavy winds, and I almost flew away. How badly I wanted to.

It was hurricane like weather, and for once, everyone stayed inside instead of trashing the store. By the time I left work, around 8, trees wore split in half, thousands were without power, a window had shattered something awful down the street and the wind...oh, the wind. It smack and punched and bruised everyone.

Everyone asked how I was going to get home. It's too dangerous. Just wait the storm out. You could blow away. But I didn't care. I had no desire to hang out there. And I was anchored by my heavy depressed state as of late.

The wind kicked my ass of course and I was thrashed about the whole way home.

I didn't get to sleep that night. Mainly because the night before I had a dream about McAbs where he was violent towards me. My feelings towards him are up in the air. There are some days when I like him. There are others when I couldn't care less. But that night, he made an appearance in my dreams as the worst sort of man in the whole entire world. I went to work, not having slept much the night before and was a bit grouchy.

I didn't really want to encounter another disturbing dream on Saturday, and the wind at my window kept me awake. So I worked on my resume until an ungodly hour, because I need a job. And one quick. I can't survive off of the bookstore money much longer. I just can't, and I don't know how much longer I can live in New York under these finical constraints. It's getting rough.

When I did wake up, I lost an hour (this time change thing is brutal), felt like crap because of the lack of sleep and did not want to head into work after the horrendous storm. At all. When I got to work on Sunday, I learned that the storm was a lot worse than expected. 74,000 people in the county alone are without power and about 1,000 tried to hang out in the store to use the power outlets yesterday. Teens hung out in the aisle checking their facebook accounts , parents conducted business in the children's department while there kids destroyed the department, people worked on homework, watched Youtube, made a home for themselves in the store.

But I didn't care. I gave them all the eye like "really. You came here during your power outage". I grew up experiencing a million blackouts. And my mom kept us home. She would bring out the candles, a board game, and take us to the living room. Sometimes we would grab flashlights and head outside into the neighborhood, and go figure, talk to our neighbors. It was sooooo weird yesterday. No one knew what to do with themselves, so the bookstore was their best option.

I am trying to keep my head up these days, but it's hard. I don't think I want to be in New York anymore. I have days where I just want to pack up the little things I have here and leave. We keep playing that dame Sade Cd in the store, and though I love me some Sade, hearing it every hour can make a girl want to throw the cd out the window. Don't get me wrong, the cd is amazing and In Another Time, gets me all the time. I just stop and want to cry when the song comes on. The lyrics are painful and sad.

That song particularly, reminds me of me

I need a break. Literally and figuratively. I need to get a job that doesn't suck, in a place that doesn't drive me crazy ( i can't deal with the pretentiousness here. And I miss the damn silence), doing something that doesn't suck.

I want a simple existence. I want to wake up in the morning, in my nice apartment and make a delicious and simply breakfast . I want to go to my creative, fun, challenging job where my co-workers are people I want to hang out with. And then, when the work day has ended I want to return home. To my nice little place, away from the city, where I can make me something to eat. Something that will take me a little while to put together. I'll invite the boy (whoever he is) over or maybe a friend to my house, for a nice chill evening of conversation and Ghostbusters! And then, at the end of the night, I would retreat to my bedroom, write a few pages of my novel before nightfall, and then to sleep where my cat Jack would already be curled up at the edge of the bed.

I want that life. How do I get that life.

Apparently, I'm just not that Girl

It's really late and I am hella tired.

For a Friday close we got out super early. It was the A team of a closing crew and by 11, the store was already clean. By 11:30 we were out the door, all in various stages of a caffeine high or low.

McAbs offered to drive me home again. And because it was raining outside I wasn't going to do my whole "no, I really want to walk" thing.

But something unnerving happened in the beginning of my shift today. Something that has my head spinning. McAbs is a very touchy guy. Never in a way that is inappropriate or worse, illegal. I mean he is super flirty, and if I was his girlfriend I would more than pissed at the attention he gives to other girls.

But for the most part of interactions are...silly. A punch in his arm, him touching my elbow, or hugs. Super nice hugs. But that's it. And the level of work flirtation has been, amateur.

But then today, I was in the break room. And he wanted to know if I needed a ride home. But instead of just, you know, asking me and me smiling at him, he came up behind, placed his hands on my hips and pulled me into him. Then asked me ultra seductively, if I needed a ride home.

??????

It felt weird. Not because 'red flag' this motherfucker has a girlfriend, and he those are my hips you are so naturally touching. Or maybe that was actually the feeling.

I didn't feel like it was ultra inappropriate or worse,illegal, but there was something wrong about. My body reacted physically to him touching me in a way it hasn't before. Not that he hasn't been ultra touchy in the past with me and a slew of other girls, but the intimacy of this touch threw me for a loop. Not because it felt good, because I didn't enjoy it. He had this "i'm Tarzan, you Jane stance". His hands on my hips were way possessive and I fell forward in an attempt to escape him.

I tense up when he touches me sometimes. Like despite all my hot and heavy dreams about him, my body doesn't trust him. It flinches and pulls away even before my mind has a chance to. And I realize it's because I don't trust him. Not only because he has a girlfriend, but because I don't think he's this .....gentle person. I think he's forward and aggressive, I think he's Tarzan and I have no want to be his Jane.

When Mike and I were friends, there was a level of comfort with him. Because I knew he wouldn't...hurt me. And though I KNOW McAbs would NEVER do anything to harm me, my body isn't reacting like it knows this. My body is not sensing this from McAbs, it instead felt violated even before a violation occurred. And it nothing to with McAbs himself. He was joking around, and being dumb and being a guy around a girl he likes to flirt with. But the reaction I felt was like nothing I have ever felt before.

My body felt wrong in his. Like there was no compatibility, and I wanted to escape rather than linger and let his hands rest on my hops.

And even now, I am trying to figure out where this is coming from. I am a girl. I am pretty. Boys like me. I like them. But my body has never felt such an aversion to someone else's before. With Simon (who I had to call Adam on this blog while I was Lenny's intern), there was this connection on so many levels. I felt like we meshed mentally and emotionally and physically. Don't get me wrong, he was a boy, so he did get on my nerves sometimes. Like when I had the flu and he kept going on and on about computers. I almost stabbed him, but was willing to heal him afterwards.

But when I stood next to him, or helped him fix something in the office in the small confides of a closet. My body felt safe, I didn't want to escape. I had no problem leaning in just a little closer, for the hell of it because I knew he wouldn't....hurt me. It just felt right. I just felt safe.

And tonight I didn't. With McAbs hands on my hips, and my back against his chest it was unnerving. It was weird. I felt weird. I didn't talk on the way home (luckily someone else was in the car so it wasn't too awkward!), and now I can't sleep.

Am I going to have this weird physical problem with every guy (who isn't like Simon, or Mike: sensitive, emotional types) who wants to be flirty? Am I a big weirdo? I understand that it's McAbs and he's just some guy at work who I will probably never have any connection to outside of work with...but...I don't know.

My head hurts. I might delete this in the morning. Must stop thinking.

On the Market.

I applied to two jobs this week. Yay, me!

Now if I get called into interview for these jobs, even better.

To be honest, since I started being an intern I've put the whole job hunt thing on hold. I mean when I got the production gig with Lenny I saw no point in working part time at the bookstore, interning two (which turned into one) days with Lenny AND applying to a full time position.

And then I went home for six weeks this summer ( in between applying to a job as an editorial assistant that I did not get, but did get an internship for). And then I came back to New York, started working 5 days at the bookstore, along with two days at the publishing company. Yeah, no time to be on the market for a job, when squeezing in sleep was even a chore.

But I have not been an intern since Mid November, and after Thanksgiving break, I just sort of put a halt on everything. Not to say I have been lazying around here. I did move into a new place, and get another internships (which I quit) and there.was.christmas.and.stuff but on the job end I've failed on sending my resume out and pleading my 'I'm awesome, hire me"case

The two jobs are both entry level, and in the city. At this point, I don't even care what it is. As long as it's sort of in my field and pays more than minimum wage. I'm not picky. I have put myself on the market and I hope that someone will choose me. I really, really want to be chosen for something.

Not only am I on the market for a new job (repeat: someone hire me please. purty please). I am also on the market for a new hairdresser, because my current one keeps chopping my hair off. For the hell of it I think. For some reason, I don't think he understands the "I want to keep it long" concept. Because I come out with extremely short hair, every time.

A friend from work has recommended me to her hair dresser. And though it is in the city (seriously, like 2 hours away) I am tempted. There is a place closer to me that I want to check out, but I would have to take a bus and I'm not really good with buses. The things we will do to look pretty.

I'm also looking into some media studies programs. So it isn't a masters degree you can depend on (but hey, i was shooting for an MFA once) but I really want to get into film production, and am finding it extremely hard to do. Hell, I don't know how I would pay for grad school (loans?), but I'm narrowing my schools down and if I can find someone to recommend me who knows what could happen.

So yes. New Job. New Hair. New School. Because this current job, rough hair, and no school is killing me.

A Little Bit of Impulse Never Killed Anybody.

So. I mentioned a couple of days ago that my Hot Creative Writer teacher (McDreamy/Sleepy/Sucky) was coming to New York this week to visit an exhibit. Let explain how I came to figure this out.

My relationship with him in school was not good. Despite my attraction to his face, we never clicked on the whole teacher/student relationship. Part of it had to do with him sucking hard core. He could not teach worth a damn. He bored the snot out of me, I fell asleep several times in his class, and for the first month I don't even think he remembered my name. I, in response to this, was extremely rude to him on several occasions because I wanted him to be the teacher I needed, and he wasn't.

However, I still had this immense attraction to him. I understand now, that I don't work well in the role of the muse. I like creating and molding thing, I like having that 'model' to inspire me, and my role is more of the artist. I latch on to faces, objects, colors, sounds, and feelings, and am inspired by them. And in a way, he was like my weird muse. The awkward college professor whose writing I thought sucked but who I couldn't stop writing variations of on paper.

He published a book right after I graduated college. And as soon as I moved to New York, I ordered a copy into my store and read it for the hell of it. I wasn't a huge fan, despite the praises, but I attempted to read it anyway. From time to time I am privy to updates from him via a blog that he has, and when I found out he was going to be in the Tri-State, my interest peaked.

The most depressing thing about post-college life is how lonely it is. I mean I was lonely in school, but in that I'm only 20 and a student way. It's a little different now. With your classic New York sentiment abound, I am surrounded by a million and one people and yet I am lost in the crowd. I don't know if I have a real connection with anyone I have met here. I go to work. I come home. I stay home. And then I wake up and go to work.

And even though I only graduated school a year and a half ago, I feel so distant from that time and that place. And I miss it. I miss that my only real concern for the days were "to get a burrito from Moe's or not to get a burrito from Moe's". I had a sense of direction in school (even if it were to just graduate) but in the real world, I can't grasp what I am suppose to be doing. I don't feel like I know who I am some days. The face in the mirror is mine, I know, but sometimes I don't recognize her.

And when I found out the McDreamy was going to be in New York, at a museum that I frequent, visiting and exhibit I have meaning to see, I wanted to catch the first train into the city, run into him, and see an old face from the past. And maybe in seeing his face, I would see my old self. It doesn't make sense I know. Maybe I've been watching too many Ethan Hawke movies. But the last couple of days have been "what would happen if I went" nights.

Seeing him had more to do with me than of course him. I miss school. I miss it a lot. And though I have no idea how I would pay for grad school, or who I would get to recommend me for any programs, there are days when I want to be back in school. Where I want to be in the throes of a really good sentence of a paper I am writing. I want to feel like I am reaching for something I can grasp, instead of how I feel now. Like I am reaching for the stars from the sill of my window.

And when I was McDreamys student, I was getting support from a very awesome therapist, I was 21 and learning to deal with it. I wasn't here in New York on a cloudy day when nothing seems to be going right, pondering my next step and hoping that I won't fall on my face in my pursuits

So sue me, that the impulsive aspects of my personality was NYC bound today. I was prepared to get on the Metro North, take the C,or the E train to the museum and maybe run into his face. I didn't plan much after that ( I have written down what would have transpired about that, and it turned into a Before Sunset Remake. See he makes me write, even when I don't want to), I'm not even too sure he would be there when I was there. But I'm a hopeless, passionate person and god, how good it would have been to see someone from small town USA. How good it would have been to see someone who knew me then, and whose face I could find my own in.

Ebb and Flow of Things

By some awesome twist of fate, I got three days off in a row. Despite needing the money and hours, there are days (and weeks) when I do not mind having the personal hours to escape inside my head for a while.



The weekend was littered with drunken parties I did not attend, viewings of Alice in Wonderland that I was not interested in seeing (don't get me wrong. I love me some tim burton, and johnny depp. But I as of late there is something soul crushing about adaptations of stories I loved since childhood. I don't know what it is, but it never works for me), and your occasional emotional breakdown.



I closed on Friday with a less than stellar crew. Lexie, the photographer, closed with me and I knew I was in for a night of 'let me tell you about my amazing life". For someone soooo nice, I don't know why I can't stand this girl. A little bit of it may be jealousy. I mean she does talk about how amazing her life is, and from the sounds of it she is doing everything I wish I was doing. She is going to India this summer for a month, just because she can. She lives in a hot apartment with hot artsy boys, she is tall and charming...and I hate her.

When she isn't talking about herself, she is thinking about talking about herself. On Friday I had the pleasure of hearing all about her upcoming trip to India, and the guy she met at a bar, and that time she met Bono in the city, or that other time she saw Sean Lennon, or that...It goes on and on. And she asks me to hang out all the time, but I have this fear that all we would do is talk about her, and I would be the awkward less attractive friend boosting her ego.

I spent the night trying to escape her, which of course meant that I kept running into McAbs. We hadn't seen each other since Valentines day, and because I was ( am) in a pissy mood I wasn't too in to seeing him that night. This guy has the most even temper I have ever encountered, he doesn't get mad, he doesn't get uncomfortable he just sort of goes with the flow. And sometimes when I talk to him, I think he has me all figured out and that's why some days I would rather just avoid him.

So i walked into work thinking that (avoidance. yay.) until I ran into him and he asked me if I wanted a ride home and even though I said "no" inside my head "I would rather walk, it's nice out" I ended up saying "not really" but he looked at me and raised his eyebrows and said "do.you.need.a.ride.home" and I shrugged and said yes.

And on the ride home we talked about work, and me getting yelled at by crazy manager, and him almost getting fired (reading a book on the job) and he wanted to let me know again that walking home this far in the dark isn't safe, especially for someone like me. So I ask him "what does that mean" and he tells me that I am just, you know, that soft spoken, non argumentative kind of girl who needs to know how to defend herself because I look a lot meeker than I am.

And I laugh at him. Because what does he know, he could be underestimating me. I could be a kickass superhero after work, he wouldn't know. I could possess the strength of a thousand men. He should be worried.

By then we have gotten to my house, but we are just sitting there. And he turns to me and says prove it. So he gives me his hand, and tells me to squeeze it "with that strength of a thousand men". Prove it. But for a split second I hesitate because I would be holding his hands, his very McAb hands and he makes me uncomfortable. And there is something extremely dangerous about him, because I am extremely attracted to him. But he is testing me, because maybe I am meek, but it doesn't mean that I can't protect myself. Even from someone like him. So I placed my hands into his, and squeezed as hard as I could until he flinched. But then he laughs (not in a mean way) because he was just messing with me. But he doesn't let go, and my hands are engulfed by his. And his fingers are warm draped over mine, and I feel safe.

But then I tell him that I have to go, and thank him for driving me home, and I take back my hand (reluctantly), and my hands felt all alone again. Damn it, how do I erase him from my mind. Sometimes I feel like I have a crush on him, just because he's a good guy that it is unattainable. That he is safe because he isn't mine. That I get to participate in a pseudo relationship with him when I need to, and I get to escape into the safety of my house when it gets to close for comfort.

I'm such a weirdo. I know.

Anyway

I ran my usual errands today. Library, salad place, home. And I am now ready to eat the best damn (and unhealthy) salad ever, watch Duel and read a book by Ethan Hawke. I'm going through a Hawke phase again. The disillusionment is killing me. OMG is this what a quarter life crisis is?

I am sort of going through the motions these days, and I want something to disrupt the flow so I change things up a bit.

And of course as I was thinking of disruptions, I found out that my hot creative writer teacher from way back when (damn I miss school) is going to be in New York tomorrow. Don't ask me how I found this out (okay, it was through his personal website that I may or may not read from time to time) but it's so weird. In the days that I have found this news out I have come up with some many scenarios that involve us running into each other and having some Before Sunset experience.

His journal writing is way more personal then his fiction, and despite my lackluster reviews of his teaching ability (I think i called him Mr.McCan'tTeachWorthADamn), I am still interested in him and what he writes. And tomorrow, he is going to be in 'my neck of the woods", like some figure from my past. I'll write more about this later, I do have a lot to say about this. But right now, I have a date with sir Stephen Spielberg and a crazy ass truck driver.

Until Then

All 'Grown' Up

So yeah, about that birthday.

I am officially 24 years old this week, and like last year my birthday was a little bumpy, and I spent most of the day being very sour.



It's hard getting older, and having to come to terms with your life. I'm not even talking about the deep existential crisis, I'm talking down and out being a very broke, very unhappy, semi-friendless 20 something. That is damn near depressing.



After weeks of cold snow and cabin fever, March 1st was beautiful here in the Northeast. The sun was shining, it was warm outside and the people were out in droves tempted by the spring like weather. I awoke to text messages from the usual (mom, Marie), a few presents to open from the usual (mom, Marie) and started my birthday.



That is where the excitement began and died folks. I had absolutely nothing to do for the rest of the day. I realize that outside of 'hang out' buddies, I don't have any real friends here. No friends to take me out to lunch or dinner, no friends to go to a movie with, nothing. I woke up, got dressed, and headed out on my birthday to run errands. Fun times.





I mailed my mom her birthday package, ran to the library to return some very overdue books, spent an hour at the library getting a handful of books I will most likely not read, and then I wandered around for a while, like a lost soul. I had no where to go, I had no invitations to do anything or be anywhere. I ended up getting some takeout from a restaurant and walking home.



I spent the rest of the day wallowing (I'm really good at it) and cursing everybody who failed to wish me a happy birthday. It's not to say that the messages and comments and phone calls that I did receive didn't mean anything to me. Because they did, all of them. But because I often feel this great sense of loneliness here, I wanted this birthday to prove me wrong. I wanted someone to surprise me, and take note that March 1st was my bday, and that they wanted to make sure I enjoyed it, even if it was in the smallest of ways.



Like a mature 24 year old I pouted, promised myself that I would never speak to those people again, and that when I became the most talented producer/writer/wife of Sufjan Stevens in the whole entire world they would regret not acknowledging me. Yeah, mature I know.



But then I put the ice cream and the tissues away and realized that I can't go around expecting much out of people who aren't really my friends, and who spend most of their time inviting me to parties where everyone gets high and drunk. I don't want to hang out in someones basement (their parents no less) smoking pot and potentially making out with a co-worker. I just don't want to do any of that. It's just not my thing.

But the birthday frustration represented a whole other issue....things need to happen in my life. I mean they needed to happen last week, or even yesterday but I would settle for right now. I seriously cannot do this for much longer, not because it's lame (or because eventually I will have to pay back loans) but because it isn't what I am suppose to be doing. I am afraid that I am so afraid of leading a boring life, that I am playing it safe. The risks I think I am taking aren't risks at all, but instead are just these life choices I have made to buy me time.

When I was younger I dreamed of being an extraordinary person. Because of shows like Buffy, Sabrina the Teenage Witch, and Roswell I had this idea that I would wake up one day and find out I was destined for greatness. That I was the lost princess of a King in a far away land, that I was suppose to the save the world from evil or some shit. So yeah, maybe I wasn't going to be a vampire slayer, or a witch, or fall in love with an alien but I knew (wanted) that one day I would realize that I was meant to be somebody, and that somebody was going to be an influence to the lives of some people.

And I hate that at 24, I am still sort of waiting for my destiny to land in my lap. For that one moment, when I'm least expecting it, for someone to give me some insight into the life I am suppose to be leading. And I know, that's not how the world works. This is not CW episode, but I need my life to be something, rather than the nothing that it is.

So yeah, maybe this birthday beat me down, but it lit a fire under my ass (is that the saying? it seems a little dirtier in writing) and I need to do something different. WAY DIFFERENT. Maybe even moving to Australia. Okay not Australia, but you get the point. If I want things to be different I might have to change things up a bit. I may have to take risks just to see what may be born out of it.

I guess that's what being a grown up is all about.

Guess What?

I am 24 years old today.

YAY!!!

All Snowed In.

There is so much snow outside. I don't even think the ground exist anymore.

I stayed inside all day to the pleasant sound of harsh winds and rain. I Played the sims (which I am getting use to), watched daytime tv, and slept. And when I woke up the ground was already covered, and tomorrow promises for more. I am suppose to go to work, but I heard today they closed early. Apparently people won't brace the snow for books, not even good ones.

I know tomorrow I will be over this whole snow thing, especially if I have to trudge to work in it. But for now, there is something comforting about not having to be anywhere. That I am all too snowed in to do anything but look at my window, and see the inches accumulate on the ground.
It's kind of refreshing.

And after my 'disagreement' with the Matt kid, I have committed myself to writing tomorrow. I'll have to pick one of my many stories to work on (Peru are you still there) but I don't want to be that girl who constantly talks about writing and who doesn't end of producing anything. I can spend my whole life doing that.

I heard this beautiful song the other day on 16 and Pregnant and can't stop listening to it these days. It's make me feel all kinds of sad and beautiful and I must admit, it was my song of the day.

Time for bed.

Takes Some Getting Use To.

Tomorrow I am suppose to get snowed in. Well, the whole northeast is. By the grace of my internship (the publishing one) I still have Tuesday and Thursdays off, which means I won't get trapped in the snow/rain/whatever mix is coming our way.

I've made no attempt to tell my managers differently, and they have not asked me about any changes in my schedule. I like knowing that on Tuesday and Thursdays I will not be at the bookstore, slaving away for minimum wage. That on those days I am more than just a name tag. A name tag that in all honesty probably isn't mine anyway ( someone asked me who my name was today, and I looked down at the name tag I had thrown on earlier in the day and said "Bradley")

And good thing I have tomorrow off because we are suppose to get hit hard by another winter storm, and I feel like I need a break from the world for awhile. I have literally spent over a grand this week on my computer, food, and birthday related things (for my mom). I haven't felt comfortable spending all this money. Hours are being slashed at work, I now have this lovely thing called rent to pay for, and yeah the pains of getting older are starting to smack me over the head. Spending that much money has just made everything else feel like crap.

I admit that I am not a huge fan of change. I like things to stay the way they are. And once I am comfortable with one thing I rarely deviate from that. I believe in the whole "if it ain't broke, don't fix it" mantra. I like my things the way they are, even if they are hanging off the hinges, falling apart in my hands, or worse.

But this has been a crazy couple of months for me. My life has changed in more ways than I am use to. I moved out of my moms, out of my aunts (kicked out, but whatever), back to new york, into my own place, got a crappy job, got a new computer....you get the picture. And I just seemed to realize (today) how different my life is from what it has been, and not because of any life changing realization but because.....

My brother bought me the sims 3. By bought I mean I suggested, over the phone, that an awesome birthday present from him would be the Sims 3. I mean I have this new computer and all, and though I love the Sims 2, it pretty much ate my last computers memory. He deposited the money in my account yesterday and hours later.... I am so confused by the game.

Yeah, the graphics are better, the game is much faster, and the people look 'more real' but it is taking some getting use to. I immediately wanted to revert to the Sims 2. Like where the hell is my fake cartoonish looking people, with their nice dream houses and yadda yadda. This game is too real for me. I don't want to be able to access my neighbors house. I don't want to follow my sims to work, I want it the way it use to be (the realization part). I want to be playing my marginally slow Sims 2, in my dorm room in South Carolina, dreaming of art boy and his artness. I want to be curled up in my twin size bed, listing to the comings and goings of 20 something year old students too drunk and too loud, while I put my sims to work. I don't want this. Why can't I go back to when my life-i mean the sims-were easier. I said this in my mind as I shut the game off because of it's newness. I'm not ready for all that new, I not ready for all this new.

Is it sad that I am comparing my current resistance to change to a Sims game. Maybe, but it's all to overwhelming. Being 24 soon, not being 23, or 22, or even 21. I have moments where I just want to be that girl again. Is that so wrong. I am starting to think that life is just about getting adjusted to change. Yeah you have the living part, yeah you have the nonliving part, but mainly you spend your whole life just trying to get use to things. And sometimes I feel like that is the only part of life I am living.

But, tomorrow will be different. I can spend the day trying to put together the pieces of my ever changing life. I plan on sleeping in really late, eating really unhealthy frozen food, and dancing. I have about 7 books I also want to read, and maybe the snow outside will inspire me to put a dent in some of them. I may play the sims, get over this fear of it's newness. I'll be 24 soon, a part of me (even if it's just my age ) will be new, and some days I look forward to that when I am not dreading it.

Outside of the Beginning, Middle, and End...It was Perfect

Like Sally Fields accepting an award, I realize that people like me, they 'really like me' and as evidence of this I have been invited to many parties and hang out sessions the last couple of weeks.

But unlike Sally Fields (I think), I have declined all of them, with the exception of grabbing dinner after work with co-workers. I don't know what it is. I know being a bailer is horrible. I know I will go down in history as the lonely girl who avoided semi productive social activities because of anxiety, but i can't help it.

I am a fan of small social gatherings. Get me around 4 people, wine coolers, rock band, and a cheesy movie in the background and I am a hoot. But when you add an extra ten people, alcohol, pot (lots of pot), people not in control of their actions and I'm just not feeling it.


Sorry

There is a girl at work, Lexie, who is a photographer major and part time bookseller. She is from the midwest, and has random tattoos on her body (one below her breast which she was way too happy to show us all). She is a...nice girl, but she talks about herself all the time. She wants us all to know how amazing her life is. She is tall, attractive, and has been to India and Germany. She had a really cool internship at NBC (which she didn't fail to tell us about everyday), and she just doesn't shut up.


I don't know if it's because she is not from new york, but I get the sense that is trying to recreate your classic "I was young and lived in new york once" experience. Because of this, nothing she does is just normal, everything is awesome and we all must be apart of her awesomeness. She along with Evan, another co-worker, have invited me to countless parties the last few weeks. But what they consider fun and what I consider fun are two different things. This Saturday they threw a booksellers party at his house in Greenwich. Though I was invited, I was not lured by the "there will be so much pot and vodka" vibe. So I didn't go, and they gave me the stank face all of Sunday (but that also could have been the hungover face)

Evan even came to me and said "we like, i like you that's why I invited you to my house. Why didn't you come? Damn my head hurts"

I want to have good hang out friends. I Do. When Angie was here, I had so much fun. We went to coffee houses, talked about literature, ate really good food and drove around at night laughing. I like those kind of things. But she isn't here now, and I am trying to build a good network of friends who i want to hang out with. But Evan and Lexie do things that just don't interest me, and though they are really good co-workers I don't consider them friends.

So, when Matt helped me with the computer thing I felt like "hey I could build a good friendship with him". But then I found out he wants to be a writer, from Jenn, and over dinner the other night she said he was the worst writer she has ever come across. He sent her links to his story and asked for some constructive criticism, which she gave but he got all writer defensive and they have been on bad terms since. To sum up the story: a girl meets a boy. they fall in love. the end.

There was no conflict, no tension. Just a boy who meets a girl that he likes, and that he keeps on liking until the end of the story. I asked her if I could have the link to his story, and we promised each other we would never let him know.

And later that night I read the story. And I cried, because it was so fucking bad. And I laughed, because it was so fucking bad. And then as I was nearing the end he popped up on IM. I rarely use instant messaging, i'm not going to lie. But my understanding of IM etiquette is that if you IM a person, you should have something to say.

It was the most awkward 20 minutes in my whole life. He asked me why I didn't come on IM a lot. So I told him. And then he said "oh". And then I waited for him to type something else, but he didn't. So I wrote "i heard you like to write, you writing anything lately?" He immediately took the bait:He loves writing (oh dear god help him), it's his passion (seriously) he wants to pursue it hard core (I am so sorry to hear that). He is writing a zombie story, and I asked him if it was like the Living Dead zombies or 28 days later ones (okay, i know there were no actual zombies in 28 days later. It's one of my favorite movies ever. But you can't deny there zombie like qualities).

The conversation went downhill from there. He went on a 'they aren't zombie tirade' and I was like 'dude it's just a movie chill out'. We then talked about the writing process and he sort of insulted my approach to writing. While it is all kinds of easy for him, I told him that writing is not for me. That depending on the story, my attachment to the characters and what they are going through wears me out because in order for it to be authentic I have to go there with them.

If we would have been talking face to face I think he would have laughed at me. He replied with some snide comment like 'well that's weird.", and that's when I signed off. Crush downgrade. It was so bizarre for him to IM, have nothing to say, get all defensive, then make me all defensive and then say my writing approach is weird. I was tempted to say 'and by the way I read your story and it was pretty bad. good luck with the zombie Apocalypse' But I didn't because I wouldn't.


I want friends.I really do I miss having them. But they are harder to find the older you get. I could go to random drunk parties with co-workers. I could get all kinds of wasted with people I don't like. But I have never wanted that, and I do not want that now. Everyone has an angle, everyone has a flaw, and I see myself just trying to fit myself in some where. To belong with a handful of friends that are all my own.

Why is it so hard? Where are these friends I desperately want, and on some days desperately need.

In A Land Before The Internet

After what seems like 3 months ( 1 and a half I believe) of going to the library, busying myself with crosswords and puzzles, avoiding pervs at various computer stations, and walking around Westchester telling anyone who would listen about my computer problem, I finally have a computer again.

I don't even know what to do with myself I am so happy.

It was a lot harder than I thought. Not because I am a hermit who spends all of her time inside my room, but because I am so use to having access to information at the palm of my hands. I've been watching a lot of Buffy lately, so forgive me for the next analogy, but in season 6 of Buffy (I told you) Willow promises her girlfriend Tara that she can go a week without using magic. She thinks this will be an easy task, until she has to resort to plain old chemistry (test tube, microscope, yadda yadda) to determine if a fast food joints special meat is HUMAN FLESH.

Willow is frustrated by regular science because it lacks the speed of magic. Though she was once the nerdy best friend of Buffy and Xander whose science and research knowledge almost trumped those of Giles, magic has become an easier method. And at the end of the episode she realizes that she can never go back to a time where wizradry was not as part of her life. I guess what I am trying to say is that the few weeks I have spent without the computer reverted me back to a time when I didn't have one. Where the Internet was the thing I used at school, trying to locate a building without google map was not a hard task, and forgetting trivia worthy knowledge meant I would have to ask someone else, instead of using wikipedia.

It's been 1999 for 6 weeks in my room, and though some adjustments were easier than others (instead of playing the sims I finished 5 books) some were not (going to the library every other day).

So when my mom called me on Friday and said that my birthday money (computer money) was in my account, it took me 15 minutes to get dress and I headed to best buy to purchase my first computer on my own. The computer search itself has sucked. Since I was 16 my mom has picked out my computer. A week before my 16th bday, my mom was so excited that she bought me a computer that she couldn't wait until my birthday to tell me about it. She blurted out that she got me a computer the day she bought it, and we set it up that night.

When I entered USC, my fair school, she purchased my first laptop from circuit city I believe. And after that one died, she went to Best Buy where she purchased my now defunct computer. Even though she split half the bill for this computer, the choice was all mine. And knowing this, I went to everyone at work who looked computer savvy for advice. Eventually I settled on the Matt kid because he was patient with all my questions. I cannot begin to tell you how much I like him. Where my attraction to McAbs is purely sexual (his muscles. his tank tops. his blue eyes!), Matt is a good guy. A really good guy.

I haven't had the chance to work with him in the past, but now that he has graduated he is there four days out of the week. He makes me laugh, he also has really nice eyes, and helped me majorly with the computer thing. But he too has a girlfriend, and I am willing to be just friends with him because he's that great of a guy.

For weeks we've message each other back and forth about my computer. I've sent him links, he has sent me links, and brought me pamphlets at work to look at. By the time friday rolled around, I narrowed my search down to a few promising choices.

But that didn't mean that I knew completely what I wanted. First it was the HP, and then the Gateway, only to hear great things about Toshiba. When I finally made it to Best Buy I was convinced I was getting a Gateway. The reviews on Best Buy were okay, and other sites varied between it being a decent and horrible computer. But it was in my price rage, it had a lot of good specifics, and it was pretty.

But I'm a horrible decision maker, because I hate regret with a passion. So even though I was all 'gateway here I come', i told the sales associate Mike differently. I blurted out that I was nervous about buying a computer, because I had never done so before. That this was a huge investment for me, and that what I want and what I need are two different things.

Let me explain to you this Mike character. He was at least 2 years younger than me, I had just heard him minutes before complaining about working at best buy, he was semi rude to a customer, and his general attractiveness was distracting. So as I was blurting this all to him I kind of expected a 'bitch this isn't therapy, choose a computer and get out of my way". But he didn't say that.To my surprise, Mike spent, god I'm embarrassed by this, 2 hours looking at every computer in the store with me. TWO! I wish I was exaggerating.

He played good cop/bad cop very well. He let me ramble, he rambled, he suggested, I suggested, he turned down those suggestions, I pouted because the HP is cute, he gave me 15 minutes to think by myself, he waited in the corner, when I returned and said I wanted the Gateway he nearly smacked me in the face and replied "have you been listening to anything I've said", i apologized, he apologized, he gave me another ten, he smiled when I narrowed it down to three computers that fit my needs, he called his friend over to examine my choices, and after 2 hours I decided on a DELL!

Who knew. At the end of it all, Mike said I was the best customer he has ever had, I thanked him for his patience, and look at me me now, a whole week until my birthday and I have a new computer. It's nice. I love it. It's a lot smaller than my other computer (a good thing) and I have been catching up with my computer absence all weekend.

Of course, I am as broke as possibly can be. The computer itself was only $549.00 but that damn warranty killed it for me. But hey, I have a computer. And not having to sit next to guys looking at porn is plus. And more blogging, writing, and of course applying for jobs. I had to pay to put my loans in forbearance again, but that gives me another three months to apply my ass off. I need a job and one quick. I've been at the bookstore a year too long, and I am ready to move on.

In a week I turn 24. I am freaked out about this, and nervous. I don't know where the time went, or how I can get it back but 24 is here and I feel every bit the girl in her 20's. I am conflicted about life, and men, and jobs (or my lack of one). I don't have control over my social life, or anxiety, and some days I want to go home to my room in south carolina, under the covers in my huge bed and hide until my real life begins.

But I can't. So I won't. And on my 24th birthday I hope I get some sweet revelation about my life. I'm in need of one. I do plan on seeing dinosaurs on my bday. I haven't been to a museum since I moved here, and dinosaurs have been flooding my dreams.

Anyway, I'm glad to be back. I missed this space.

Homecoming...

Guess who got a Dell today!

The end.

Seriously, Can Someone Do This For Me....

With help from my new crush, I am narrowing down my computer search.

Everyone at work seems to have an opinion about me and my new computer. Get one that will be able to play all of your sim games. Have one that you can use for your upcoming production career. Get a Mac.

My head has been bombarded with computer related jargon, and I just don't get any of it. I hate making decisions, and outside of choosing what college I would apply to when I was in high school, this decision has been incredibly hard.

But when I thought I was drowning in computer buying hell, a new and promising friend came to the rescue. His name is Matt. He works in the music department. I may kind of have a major crush on him. Sue me.

He usually works at the bookstore during holiday breaks (he went to school in another state) but after graduating last semester he has been working at the store full time. Everyone has always said great things about him. He's the best. He's so nice and caring. He will do anything for a friend. But I wasn't completely sold on him. I mean outside of saying Hi to me our conversations have been few to none.

But with him being there more often, I realize that everyone was right and Matt is awesome. And by awesome I mean he is amazing. He entertains me with silly faces and embarrassing impressions (yes, I am 23. But damn it all to hell, I crack up when someone does something silly faces) and in regards to my computer thing he has helped me narrow it down based on my needs. MY needs! Can I date this guy already or what. Too bad he has that girlfriend and all.

Anyway, the last week we have been going over what I need from a computer and what computer will satisfy that. He told me the HP will break up with me after a year, and that Macs are overrated. Dells are pretty reliable (where have I heard that before) and that sonys are all right but it's a pretty penny. He then introduced me to Gateway computers, who I have avoided all these years because of their stupid cow logo. But after some research, the gateway has potential. Outside of a few issues, it could be the computer of my dreams.

So i told him about this. And he said "we can run over the specifics together, before you buy it". Run over the specifics together. Damn, why does he have to have a girlfriend. I am fun, and cute, and though my silly faces are not as good as his I can crack jokes like no one else.

This week has been shit. But where it has been good, it has been really good. Like Matt. And by next week (or tomorrow if I'm real luck), I will own a computer. Thank God!

I'm heading to best buy right now, where I will no doubt ask stupid questions to all the employees.

Wish me luck!

Not A Great Start to the Week

It snowed here. Something awful. And the last couple of days have been rough.

Work is beginning to suck something major. And I have one manager to blame. We have a new manager at the store with the same name as the last manager. But that is where the similarities come to an end. On the surface she is very nice, polite, and dare I say friendly. But that is about 15% of her personality. The rest of the time she is pushing people around, not managing us well, and two days ago she yelled at me because of something incredibly stupid.

I am a very defensive person. I don't know what it is. Maybe I was suppose to be a lawyer. But even if I am dead wrong, I will defend my actions or at least give a reason as to why I acted a certain way. But when I am right, and sometimes I just so happen to be, the defensive thing goes to a whole new level. I will not only defend my actions, but I will defend anyone else's.

It's a really long story. I'll try to sum it up nicely. After the store closes (around 10) we get an hour to clean it up. Each person is assigned a zone (our store has 4, not including kids), and is accountable for that zone. We were short staffed the whole day. Nice Matt was there, along with me and a girl I have become friends with name Melissa. That's 3 bookfloor closers, a music closer, and 2 people in cafe. It's a small crew considering how big the store is.

Anyway, this week all the schools are closed and because of this teenagers are tearing the store up. Looking at the nudie books, destroying manga, hanging out in the kids department, and fucking eh- the magazines department was a mess.

We had a long night ahead of us, but instead of letting us get started on cleaning the store Evil Manager decided to have us ALL watch a 20 minute video on the new e-reader product we are selling. We all had to watch it at one point, but they usually assign us a project hour for that. I guess she wanted to get as much people to watch it in one night as she could, so she would look like the awesome manager in the morning.

We all began complaining that maybe we should hold off on the video because the store was a mess, and it would cost us a good 20 minutes. But she didn't care. Of course 20 minutes later the video ended and we went off to our zones. I had to clean kids, and zones 2/3. It took me 30 minutes, and then I started working on resort.

This is when the bitch went crazy. She realized then that no one had touched magazines all night. But at that point it was already 11pm. She assigned me to go over there and do as much as I could. But there were two full carts of magazines, plus a basket. Melissa and I attempted to put the mags away (half of one cart), but then 10 minutes later EVIL manager told the store that we would be out of there in five minutes. So I started putting the rest of the magazines on a cart to clean up the mess that we weren't able to get through. I dragged the carts in the back, parked them near the newstand station and started heading back to customer service.

Evil manager stopped me in the aisle and was like "what happened to five minutes" I looked at her like she was insane and said "i put the mags on a cart and spent those five minutes dragging them back here, so that Lisa would be able to see what we couldn't finish"

She then proceeded to yell at me because that is not what she told me to do. She wanted me to finish newstand in five minutes, or leave it a mess for the newstand lady in the morning. At this point a crowd surrounded. Matt lingered, Melissa listened closely, the music guy looked away. She said she was very upset about the whole newstand thing, and that she was bothered by my lack of follow through. I, being defensive, asked her if she wanted me to drag the cart back out there so that I could put two magazines away only to have to drag the cart back. Okay, maybe I shouldn't have said it like that, but what the hell lady.

This set her off, and she then proceeded to follow me around the break room while I was putting the phones away to remind me that the store was not cleaned yet, and that we would not leave until she was finished. So I asked her 'finished in your five minutes, or the regular ones'. And then I walked away.

It was embarrassing, and awful and unfortunately not the first time I have been her punching bag. She just had a baby, her mother has cancer, she is new there but that doesn't give her the right to use me as her target. I was pissed. I am still pissed, and I was minutes away from doing something irrational.

But I didn't. And now here I am at the library writing about it , because I still dont have a computer. Oh life, whenever you want to start I'll be here waiting for you.

I hope that by the end of this week, or the beginning of next I will have a new computer. More blogging, youtube, and sending out applications like crazy. I debate living here everyday, like maybe this isn't the place where I will become somebody. Who says it has to be new york? My application search will be nationwide!

Sorry about the lack of posts again. Soon I will be a functioning computer having person again. AND I will be 24! Can you believe it. March 1st is approaching. I'm obsessed with dinosaurs lately, so I am planning a geeky trip to a museum that day.

Until my next post,

Becks

Running Around...

This weekend it didn't snow. I am very disappointed by this especially since the mid-Atlantic states can't seem to get enough of it these last days. How we (NY) missed this snow storm is beyond me. There is a rumor that if it snows while you are at work and the store has to close you still get paid for showing up. I mean paid as if you have been there all day. I was slightly hoping this would be the case on Saturday. The weatherman said it would happen. People at work were throwing around how many inches we would receive. And on the day in question, I woke up expecting something. An inch or two. We got nothing. Damn

I am pulling myself out of this stupor I have created. I have no choice but to. There comes a point when you realize the only person who can really help you is well...you.

I took a much needed day to myself yesterday. I slept in very late, I read a book I have been meaning to read for ages, I had oatmeal at night and I even watched football and cursed. The last activity was on a whim. I'm not a huge sports fan but everyone needs to watch guys charge each other in stimulated battle every once in a while. right? But a day to myself may have done the trick, I feel prepared to take on the world this week.

My computer hunt is going well. I went over to my friends house (Toaster) this Friday and along with some help from his girlfriend, I am starting to make some sound decisions on what computer I should invest in. Like yeah, maybe HP's are all kinds of pretty. And maybe the reason I want this one has something to do with it looking like a MAC. But if I have to keep sending it away because it crashes on me like something awful, then I have wasted a pretty penny on sir pretty computer.

As I do this computer search, I am beginning to realize that I don't know much about computer brands. I am sort of poking around based on what it looks like, rather than what I will need it for. So yeah, it's time for me to get serious about this. I am checking out all the computer sites, comparing prices, reading reviews analyzing what specs I will need on my new computer. I just got my taxes done (so the IRS doesn''t come beating my door down) and I will get back a nice chunk of money. Enough for me to get something amazing.

Amazing.

I will have to get my hard drive backed up so that I don't lose any important files on my computer. McAb's friend and co-worker of ours (Stev) agreed to do it for free. He was suppose to come over Friday night to pick up my computer but I put a halt to that plan after I got some very interesting feedback on him and his computer skills...

Friday I spent the whole day at Toasters house playing Playstation 3 and watching infommericals involving very expensive saws. It was kind of weird to hang out with him outside of work. Like I am use to there being a buffer. One that involves us chilling at the cash register or having lunch in the break room. This was different. I woke up really early to meet his girlfriend at the train station and then we headed to their place located in some town that resembled something you'd read out of a Stephen king novel.

I had Indian food, played BurnOut horribly and then watched a two hour episode of smallville. I think he was just glad I showed up (you know because of my whole bailing thing) and I was glad to be there. I'm not good at showing up for things. I think I am most afraid that outside of work people won't find me interesting or worse that they will never want to hang out with me again. But Friday was successful. We talked, laughed, and gossiped especially about work. The moment I mentioned that Stev (hard drive guy) was going to back up my files, everyone in the room groaned. Of course I wanted to know why they made that noise and they proceeded to tell me that he is the most horrible computer guy ever.

Apparently he never gives your computer back. He just keeps it, taking parts from it for his own use. And he will find a way to mess something as simple as backing up a hard drive up. At first I thought they were exaggerating but Toaster said he hasn't seen his old computer in months. A computer Stev was suppose to help fix.

So I texted Stev and told him that I had to cancel on him and McAbs (who was suppose to drive Stev over) stopping by to get my computer. The next day I ran into McAbs at work and he was kind of mad at me the whole night. When I went up to him, he said "so what the hell was up with last night. Stev and I were planning to head over and you kind of bailed'. I told him that I took it to best buy (lie) because I felt more comfortable them backing my crap up (not a lie). I mean if Stev mishandles the hard drive or worse never gives it back I am out of 3 years worth of pictures, stories, and music.

Then McAbs said something weird: "don't lie, you were afraid we were going to look at your files".


No Mcabs I wasn't. Seriously the thought never crossed my mind, until he mentioned it. And why did he say 'we'. I kind of thought Stev would be the only one to have access to my things. But the moment he said that I realized that was a strong possibility. And though I don't have anything incriminating on it, my whole life is there and I don't want them having access to it. I'm weird I know, but I've decided to get it back up else where even if I have to pay. I can't have McAbs reading any of my stories, or seeing pictures of me and my family.

Anyway.

So yeah, I'm feeling better. I did a lot of writing yesterday and I just have to do some errands before heading home.

I want to write some more but the guy next to me is totally looking at some Internet PORN. It is making me uncomfortable and I wish I could tell on him. I mean come on in the library. Aren't there basements or houses or I don't know, places where I AM NOT sitting for YOU (mister) to watch porn. I feel queasy. I'll try to write a proper post sometime this week.

Until then

'Don't Bail on Me'

I picked up my now non functioning computer from best buy today. That went well.

I didn't run into Peter who consoled me on the phone. This time it was Pedro. Just as nice but not as sweet as Pete. The Geek Squaders do there job well. They are all nerdy techy guys who hate when they run into problems they can't fix. After I explained to Pedro what Peter said on the phone, Pedro said he would take another look at it for me.

For a brief moment I thought he would be able to fix my computer. He kept making those noises one makes when they think they have stumbled on a great discovery. I started to get happy. Damn it I was even getting optimistic. I tucked my debit card back in my pocket for a moment, convinced that Pedro was on the brink of figuring it all out.

But he didn't. He suggested the same thing Peter did and I spent the better half of my time there looking at computers. I am convinced that the HP is the one for me. And not because it is cute and pretty (ok, that may be a reason). But I like what it offers, and dammit, it is cute and pretty and almost looks like a Mac except that it isn't. I am not too thrilled with having to change from XP to Windows 7, but what the hell. At this point the computer will cost around 640.00, not including the warranty. And I may have to get a new damn Anti-virus program because Norton didn't do shit.

Oh, the pains of being older.

I am beginning to think that I am secretly living the life of a 90's sitcom. Where everything bad (though funny) happens to your lovable protagonist. Case in point: The roof in my new pad is shitty. Last week it rained and the ceiling in my landlady's room started leaking. My room was rain free, but still, leaky roofs are not cool. We have had construction people (men) in our house for about 5 days, hacking away at the roof, appearing in front of windows, or more importantly appearing in front of bathroom windows as a certain lovable protagonist was peeing. What?!?! It was the morning, I had to go. I did not notice the construction guy when I sat down. It was only when I realized that there was drilling coming from outside the window that I knew that I was bare assed in front of a stranger. And damn it all to hell, there he was, standing on the roof inches away from me and my pee. I don't know if he saw me, but I have enough of this renovation. enough of it.

And on top of that I have been dubbed a "bailer" at work. Let me explain. I believe that I am a fun person. I laugh a lot. I am spontaneous. And generally a great person to be around. But I am not a fan of hanging out. I don't do plans well. I just like them to happen, and with the people I want them to happen with. When Angie was here, I hung out with her all the time. But she was easy to be around. I didn't feel like anything was forced with her. She liked to have random late night drives around Westchester. She liked waffle houses and feminist literature. She didn't mind going back to her place and just talking. I like those kind of hang out sessions.

But recently as my social life has made a turn upward. I have been requested to hang out by several people. Work people who are slowly becoming friends. But I have in some way or another managed to bail out of this. I get 'sick' or 'my computer dies' or 'i'm snowed in by imaginary snow'. You know the usual.

But recently the people I have bailed on are making a fuss of this. Do I even exist outside of work? Do I not like them? What's going on? Josh, pulled me to the side one day (as your classic sitcom 'guy who knows everything' type) and told me that 'bailers are like the worst. Because you know what happens to them. No one asks them to hang out anymore'.

It's true. Hanging out frightens me. If I can avoid it I will. But I figure with all this free time I have, I minus will try to strengthen my social life. So I don't feel so disconnected. I wonder if this is episode 34 of my life. I just need to come up with a show title at this point. Because the only thing preventing me from crying is laughter. My life is becoming absurd. I get caught on the toilet, I have discussions about bailers to a guy who dressed up like a character from Zelda for Halloween, I cry on the phone to a Geek Squader. Who I then proceed to crush on for the rest of the afternoon because his voice was nice. AND do we need to mention my obsession with McAbs. The day before, he wore a tight white shirt and apart of me died inside. Hardcore.

I need to write a pilot of my life, right now. If those Jersey Shore kids (grown ass adults) can do it, than why can't I. I'm interesting? I'm lovable. I've encountered enough material to warrant some interest.

Yes, this is my life and I hope it get betters. I hope I can find the computer, job, boy, and city of my dreams before 25. I'm still hoping Australia will take me, if this all doesn't work out.

Yeah. Australia.

Time to get out of the library. Tech guy from work is going to back up my hard drive this friday, and maybe (maybe) get the damn thing to run. Maybe.

Real Bad News

Yesterday at work I got a very 'concerned' message from a geek squad guy.

I have been dealing with computer problems since January, and after the last fiasco ('jay z is da shit'), I thought Best Buy would quickly resolve the issue with their amazingly hot geek squad team.

Boy, was I wrong.

I was taking my break when I noticed that someone from a new york area code phoned me about 5 times. I started to worry. Maybe something happen to my dad. Maybe something happened to Michelle. Maybe. Maybe. Maybe. When I listened to the message, a man introduced himself as a geek squad agent and that he had encountered some serious problems when running the diagnostic test. He sounded serious and concerned. Which is something you do not expect from a geek squader.

I called best buy back immediately. What happened to this being a simple software problem. what happen to it being a (not so) simple hard drive problem. When I got on the phone with an agent she put me on hold and got me in touch with the agent who tried to repair my computer.

His name was Peter. He had a soft voice. He said that when he ran the diagnostic test my computer crashed. Hardcore. So he ran another one. A stronger one. And guess what, my computer not only annihilated that test but it went into a coma (she won't turn on). He wanted to talk to me about my options. But they are few. It appears to be the motherboard. But because my computer has shut down completely he can't even be sure about that. I can either have them ship it off to who knows where, where they will be able to fix the problem for a ridiculous price OR I need to invest in getting a new computer. He was nice and calm. I cried on the phone. He apologized and offered his condolences, but they did all they could do.

Now I have no idea what to do. I cannot invest anymore money into a computer that after 4 years just isn't worth it to be honest. But how can I afford a new computer. I could buy a really cheap one but how long will that last. I hate being an adult.

In a month I will be 24 years old. This is frightening because at 24 I work retail, live in a room, and can't afford basic necessities (okay that's a stretch but I am very emotional today). I don't know where the time went or why it went, or why I can't just get all of it back. I want to get all of it back, I hate where I am at in my life right now. When I was younger, you can bet that I didn't think 24 would look like this. If it had I would have found a way to prevent growing up.

It's not even the computer issue itself. My mom couldn't understand why I was so sad on the phone later that night. She assured me that this was not a huge issue, she gave me the 'you have your health and life' conversation. But I just feel bad that she continues to support my impulsive move to New York, and subsequent setbacks that i have to go to her to resolve. And though I know that a computer will be coming my way in a few short weeks (I sort of want an HP, any suggestions?) I hate feeling like this dream....this thing I set out to do is falling through. And that I am not only disappointing her, but myself in some weird way.

So yeah. The library will be my friend for a while. I'll just have to get use to writing here. And the weird smells. Hey, i'm starting to feel that optimism thing again...

In other news. After I spent my break crying to Peter and my mom I had to get back to work. Because I need the money to afford living. As I was heading to customer service I seriously got accosted by a customer.

I have 18 minutes to explain.... So I was at customer service when a guy came up to me and asked me for an application. I told him that we aren't really hiring but that if he filled one out the managers would hold onto it for a year. I thought after I said that he would go away. You know, because he had his application in his hand. But he sort of lingered around. Asking me questions sort of related to the job and myself.

He was creepy. Beyond creepy and I made a quick exit. But he followed me throughout the store asking me to help him with his application. I told him that I didn't have the time to do that because I had to help customers looking to buy books. He seemed offended but then went away. He came back 5 minutes later to ask me about a specific question on the application. But he didn't want to ask me in front of the other customers. He wanted me to come in the corner near the children's department. Sure red flags were waving, but even with all his creepiness, I felt safe in the store at least with a guard at each end of the store and customers inches away.

So I went in the corner. It was there that he asked me for my name and phone number followed by a question about how old I was. He seemed disappointed at my age and then proceeded to do the whole creepy guy thing. I managed to walk away before he fondled any parts of the boob but I felt nervous and scared.

Turns out, after I disappeared from him he went to customer service and asked my manager for my name and the hours that I work. She of course, told him that information like that cannot be given out. He then came up to the cash register where I was and tried to get my attention but I made a bee-line for an aisle, where McAbs was cleaning something.

Jeepers. I have had my fair share of creepy guys but this guy was in another league. I am thinking about taking up some kick boxing class. Combined with how much Buffy the Vampire Slayer I have been watching lately, I feel like maybe I do have to empower myself. Especially because I give off the defenseless vibe.

I told McAbs about the incident, and at first he laughed. But then when he drove me home that night he was like "dude next time, just come and get me. I'll kick his fucking teeth in.' I've never heard such sweet words come out of someone that hot.

Damn him and his muscles.

So yeah, I have ten minutes remaining. This sucks. I will try to get here more often and suck up my aversion to the library. And the smell. I miss this place.

Until Then,

Becks

PS. Snail Mail to be sent out shortly.