Introverts Lament

Good god, today was just...awful.

The next time I have an IT related problem at work remind me not to call Le Sad Store's IT department. Doing so not only put me in the worst moods ever but I seriously had to leave work early in order not to stab someone. Yeah, it was pretty bad.

It seems that my absence was surely missed at Le Sad Store while I was away. After a coming home on Sunday and a much needed rest of Monday I was immediately thrust back into the work grind. The evil manager scheduled me to work six days in a row this week as if to make up for the long week and a half that I was away.

Working six days in a row is just not right, especially coming off a really great and relaxing vacation. But evil manager has a tendency of going around decency because she's evil and doesn't care if working six days in a row will wear you down. She often schedules people to do a clopen (a shift that consists of you closing the store, say a 5 to 11, only to have to work in the morning, say a 10-5) or a double or a six day work week and when you voice concerns about it she'll say something like "well, i do it all the time so suck it up".

Of course when someone says something like this to you a couple of things run through your mind: 'but you're a manager' 'who the hell cares if you've done it before', 'fuck'. I obviously had some concerns about working six days in a row but because I've been gone for so long I didn't want to say anything about having an extra day to myself. I simply and quite disappointingly 'sucked it up' because vacation was truly that amazing and I was fortunate enough to be able to take that many days off without it being an issue.

But oh, how being away can make you forget that people are stupid ashats, especially in retail. In the past six days I've come across a very rude lady from the Midwest ('your store is sooooo messy. this is nothing like the store i frequent where i live), an intolerable 'this is why i shop on amazon' guy and the regulars who don't by anything but constantly ask for help and/or complain about something.

The 'I shop on amazon guy' was especially aggravating because he would not stop telling me about, even though I showed no interest in listening to him, the reasons why our bookstore was going out of business. 'People, just don't buy books anymore' he continued after the 8 minutes of me trying to get him the hell out of the store so I could help someone else. After he said something along the lines of 'I think that's what killed your guys', I had to remind him that BORDERS is the bookstore chain going out of business not Le Sad Store and that people 'including yourself, who just so happens to be shopping in a bookstore today, still read books so Le Sad Store will be okay'.

He shrugged his shoulders (perhaps after realizing that the he'd gotten the bookstore mixed up and his comment that 'people don't buy books anymore' , as he was, er, um, buying books, completely contradicted his initial statement) and said 'well, amazon is still better'.

After five days of dumb questions, stank eyes, and one guy trying to hide the fact that he was reading porn in the medical reference section, I was running on empty. Lack of sleep, lack of patience, lack of ability to focus on anyone or thing. Just last week (or so ago) I was home, with my mom and my brother and three cats, enjoying the silence of the small town living and introverted bliss and am now I back into the bustle and hustle of retail, where I work around people who hate don't seem to like staying home.

The bookstore has become my worst nightmare. I am completely stumped by why people want to spend their weekends (or any day) at the store for long periods of time. From teenagers who detest reading but love Fraps, to grown adults who sit in the the store up until the minute we close, Le Sad Store is a place people come to to hang out in more so than buy books. Sure people love books, and some even buy them but for the most part working in a huge chain store opens your eyes to the real nature of book sales. The industry does not survive from folks like you and me who read books because we love them. The nerdy girls and boys who are very particular about the things we read and buy are not who shop in big chain bookstores.

Instead the 'omg! oprah recommended a new book' or the 'i just saw the movie so I now i must read the story' people are the ones purchasing books. And because every week some jerk on Fox news (no offense) or some critic from the new york times recommends a title, people come out in search of a recommendation they most likely will buy and then not read. This is the true nature of working at a big bookstore. People are sometimes surprised when they ramble a title to us and we don't have to search the computer to find out where it is. I have had several people say 'you must really know your books' and I sadly reply 'no, it's just people keep asking for the same title'.

As a book loving person, this is heartbreaking because I go to bookstores for the sole purpose of finding and buying literature. For me, books need to be discovered. Titles need to find you after a long search. I don't read the new york times to find a great recommendation. I talk to my friends, I search the aisle, I sometimes find a really cool book description in my favorite magazine (GQ, Nylon) which have become trusted sources. Because as a bibliophile, I like thumbing through the aisle in search of a title that catches my eye. I am a huge book nerd who appreciates the quality of readable books rather than mainstream trends (I'm talking about you 'Game of Thrones').

And as an introvert bookstores use to be a place where I could go and look for books and find solace in the quiet atmosphere. But now that I have slaved away in a bookstore, the sense of calm and solace I once felt in the place has all but evaporated. Not all bookstores of course, the small independents ones will always have my heart, but I don't think I will ever shop in a Le Sad Store once I leave. I have seen too many truly horrible things there that makes me think differently about bookstores in general. And when I have to work, lets say on the weekend, I can not for the life of understand why anyone, would want to leave the confides of their home to hang out in Le Sad Store. Why of all the places in the world, you'd want to come to an overly priced, insufficiently stocked place where teenagers crowd the aisles and a diet book is the number 1 bestselling item in the store.

I guess this is why on the weekends, I am in no mood to play nice with strangers. I am very curt and too the point and desperate to get them out of the store as quick as possible. People have a tendency of being much more of a douche on the weekends and I catch myself having to take a breather every once in a while to regain composure. to bit my tongue. to remember that I am a person above all else.

But six days can wear a person down, and today I was just...over it, more than usual. The moment we opened it was one thing after another and after having one of the worst IT experiences ever I asked to go home early. I simply removed my name tag, dropped my work phone in a managers hand and said I was going home. two hours early. screw working six days.

You remember that SNL skit where Jimmy Fallon plays the annoying and self righteous computer guy Nick Burns. I may have gotten him on the phone today and because he wasn't close enough to strangle all I could do was silently cry inside. I've never had to call IT at work before, because I don't deal with any digital e-reader questions, but because people come to customer service instead of the digital service counter located near the cash registers, I sometimes have to field questions as best as I can.

Unfortunately I got a question that was not easy for me to answer and the manager, standing near by, wanted me to call IT support in order to resolve the issue. When I call the IT guy, who talked a mile a minute, he tried to have me explain to two very confused and not tech savvy customers how to resolve their digital issue. That went all to shit quickly.

On one end, I have fucking Nick Burns, sounding very frustrated (he did one of those 'talking through your teeth, closed mouths, exasperated thing) and annoyed that I am not explaining the solution better and on the other end I have a nice, but terribly tech-less, gentleman repeating 'what'd he say, huh, what does that mean, dear he wants to send me an email where, aol, my password is fluffy, say what?'.

It was like the game telephone, I being on the receiving end of two very different descriptions of the same damn message at the same damn time. At one point, I casually drop the phone on Nick Burns and walk away from the very old and confused customer to find a manager. I try to explain to her that someone else has to help, that there is no way I can talk to Nick Burns and the old guy and the help the seven customers now waiting in line. Because she is no help, I eventually decided to revolve the issue by putting 'nick' on the phone with 'old guy' and having them talk it out.

And then, i let the manager know that I was not feeling well and was going home. She let me leave early of course (i wish I would have just walked out), and I then proceeded to spend the next four hours under my covers.I haven't done that in a while.

I just don't think I can do this anymore. I am tired and frustrated and so unhappy at Le Sad Store it hurts. I need there to be some sort of change already. While I am sort of nervous about taking on the responsibility of dare i say, a real job, there is no way I continue at the bookstore unless I want to lose my sanity.

Luckily I have tomorrow off and Heather and I are going to grab lunch and discuss job hunting woes. I haven't hung out with her since the end of May and I am looking forward to being around someone who doesn't work with me. Is it sad that I just got back from vacation and I am in need of another break from things.

Back to the Real World.

So, vacation is officially over.

I arrived in new york yesterday after 15 hours on an Amtrak train. And I am wiped out.

The older I get the more I enjoy going home for a short period of time. When I lived in the south there was always this internal tension regarding my life there.

I despised everything about living in the south: the people, the slowness, the endless stretch of greenery, the boredom, and silence. I just hated living there. When my mom moved my brother and I down south, it felt as if I'd been expelled from New York. Robbed of the experience of being a teen there.

For the better part of middle school and high school all I could think about was what life would have been life for me if we'd stayed in New York. I, of course, imagined the sort of experience the teen shows of my youth glamorized. A nerdy yet adventure fueled existence in a high school that I liked with friends that were like family.

And all of that dreaming and pondering about what life could have been made me shut any and all southern rendition of that life from happening. And to be honest it will be the one thing I regret about my time in south carolina growing up; that instead of just adapting to my situation and making the best out of it, I sort of shut down as I have a tendency of doing.

I think about this now because come august I will have been in new york for three years. Three years out of college and the safety of my moms home. Three years from the state and region I so desperately wanted to leave. And while, I love living in New York after three years I have in some way reconciled with the south I fled.

Going home is miles different than I thought it would be post graduation. It is a much more rejuvenating and calming. Days before my vacation I was a bundle of nerves because of excitement and anxiety. Traveling has something to do with it, but among all of that I was just ready to go home. To my family and admittedly to South Carolina.

You know when you haven't seen someone in a really long time; an old friend or ex-flame, and you get that weird nervous spell in your belly because there is a history you have had with this person, there are experiences forged to be never forgotten with them. And while the two of you have grown distant and gotten older, changed and are shaped different views, moved on and created something new for yourself, when you see them again you want to be presentable. You want to show yourself off to show growth in the face of something that use to define you.

I don't know if that makes sense. Probably not. But I guess what i'm trying to say that going home will forever be like a reconnecting with an old flame. A meeting and coming to terms with something (or one) that I feel has shaped who I am today. And while our relationship was not always the healthiest, while we both hurt and injured one another out of ignorance and fear, I will always have a bond with 'him'.There will always be a place in some crevice of my being that belongs to South Carolina.

And being home was great. I spent some time in Charleston and at USC with my mom before heading home where my brother and three newly adopted stray cats awaited me. I meet my nephew for the first time, who did not take kindly to the weird girl trying to snap pictures of him. He cried most of the time I was there and I made a promise that our next meeting wouldn't be so traumatic. On either of us.

I visited some old and familiar places; a Dam in Georgia, a state garden and a handful of thrift stores that my mom frequents. I snapped photos along the way, too many to be honest and made my peace with south carolina along the way.

The days sort of flew by and before I knew it my vacation had come and gone. Leaving is always difficult,now especially, that my mom, brother and I are finally at places in our lives when the arguments have stopped and we generally enjoy being around us. Where my brother would once ignore me he was actually authentically happy to see me. He bought me lunch and played the Scott Pilgrim video game with me and when I left he gave me the hugest hug ever.

And it is so weird that only 2 days ago I was in South Carolina sitting in the living room with my brother and mom and now I am in New York struck dumb by the humidly but generally excited to be back. My vacation is over but I have the energy to pick back up where I left off. While I am not happy at all to return to Le Sad Store, I was over the moon to see some of my friends today who all received huge bear hugs.

And maybe it's the vacation high, but I do feel as if things will pick up for me. Because going home has a way of lighting a fire under my butt to make a life for myself work here. Not because I don't want to return to South Carolina but because going home reminds me of my purpose here. That all of this isn't for nothing. That the part of south carolina that has made me who I am will be proud of the things I will do here, miles and miles away from home.

I like feeling optimistic about things.

Now, if I can unpack my suitcase that will be awesome. I brought a lot of things back with me and must find a place to put them. Including a handful of books, like I need anymore books in this room. Tomorrow I start what will be six days straight of work so if I get the mess out of the way now, I won't be bothered by it when I'm too exhausted to do much of anything else.

Back to the Real World I go.

Beckett.

Oh, and i'll uploading some vacation photos here for anyone who wants to take a look.

Vacation

Yep. Enjoying myself a lot.

Going Home.

Vacation starts today and in a few hours I will be on a train (planes still freak me out) to South Carolina.

Thank God.

I ended up doing an awful 10 hour shift at le sad store yesterday because some one called out and they needed help on the floor. I asked if I could leave early (for traveling purposes) but my manager pretty much made me feel guilty for wanting to leave...so I stayed.

It was probably the worst decision I've made in the last few days. Yesterday was just dreadful, I mean as soon as I walked in people were panicking and complaining about the workload and the shitty customers. Customers literally make working in retail a billion times worse than it should be. We were backed up with projects to complete in the store, which we never even got the chance to finish because ashats were asking for 'summer reading' books all night.


So naturally I am very excited about heading home. I have general anxieties about traveling in general but I know I when reach South Carolina, all the worries from the last few days will fade away. Writing will be a little light (as it has been for a while, i apologize) but expect a lot of pictures. My mom is taking me to Charleston this time around and I have always found that city so majestic.

Anyway, I have a few more things to do before I head out. I am determined to bring as little things home as possible but that is not going well as I try to squeeze more books in my suitcase. Damn.

~Beckett

Home Has Never Looked So Sweet.

Good God, I'm home. Should I kiss the floor now or wait until after this post.

I like my house a lot. It's an old colonial style house on the top of a steep hill. When I look outside my window I can see the lights from the center of town to my left as well as the trees from the park nearby to my right. Despite the creaky floors and chipped paint, broken doorknob and rough carpet... I love my house. And for $600/month, this house has been my greatest investment here.

But, I have not slept in my house for past three nights thanks to my aunt and her job. You know those commercials where someone breaks into a picture perfect house setting off an alarm the awakens the picture perfect family and then the screen switches to a concerned representative from the alarm company who calls to make sure that everything is alright at the family's home...well that is what my aunt does. Except, she really just sits around for most of her shift in an office somewhere waiting for something to happen.

She usualy works the morning shift, but thanks to a co-worker quiting at the last minute her job had to move around some schedules this week until they could hire someone to take the midnight shift. This is where I come in. Because my aunt had to work a midnight-8 shift (except friday) and my college aged cousin has to work 7-5 at his summer camp job she had no one to watch Michelle from 7 to roughly 9 o'clock in the morning. And because I am the dependable, responsible relative who loves Michelle to pieces, I was the only person she could ask.

I absolutely adore hanging out with my cousin Michelle. She is a inquisitive, polite, adventurous six year old. We recently saw Judy Moody together (terrible movie) and she eagerly shared her snacks with me to make sure I was comfortable. Recently she picked up the gardening bug and has planted her very first tomato plant. I love this child fiercely as if she were my own, and I have no problems watching her ever. I even asked if my aunt needed me to come over on the fourth to watch michelle and or babysit if necessary. But she said it wasn't so I made other plans.

I wanted this July 4th to be low key this year. I took the day off because I couldn't bear being at work with annoying people. I spent most of the morning talking to my mom on the phone because the 4th will always be a little rough for our family. Three years later and the grief thing is getting...easier, I guess. But His birthday and death will always be...tough, there is no way around it.

Some of my friends were having BBQ's, others were going to hit up bars later on in the day. While I was asked to attend most of these activities, I instead decided to stay home and watch a bunch of British Television shows thanks to Netflix. I love America and being an American but the Brits won on the programming front.

So when my phone rang as I was on who knows what episode of the IT Crowd, I was shocked to hear my aunts voice (who never calls) on the other end. She called to ask if I wanted to come over because her neighbor was having a BBQ. There would be hotdogs, and hamburgers, and french fries....'oh, and do you think you could spend the night'. Say what?

She explained the situation (there was no one to watch Michelle in the morning) and I agreed to spend the night thinking it was going to be just 1 night. 3 nights later and I am finally home. I've been living out of a messenger bag for the past few days and after i finish watching Star Wars V I'm taking a nap. I am exhausted.

Michelle was as delightful as could be, but everything else was terribly the same at my aunts house. There was still this sense of complete chaos and dysfunction. Her house has never felt like a home because it is constantly in a state of 'renovation'. She can't decided on a paint color for the walls so there are several color strips on the wall. She has more random appliances in her house than Sears catalogue and I may have stepped in cereal she no longer had in her cabinet.

Everything was a mess which probably explains why I got bitten by a spider on my first night on the couch. Michelle and I feel asleep during Macy's Fourth of July Spectacular and when we awoke the next day we were all sorts of marked up with bug bites.For some reason, I got the worst of it. I had a pretty disturbing bruise on my arm that was red, swollen and itchy. I didn't think too much of it, until Wednesday when the bite marked had double in size.

The bump on my arms was the size of a golf ball. And while I've never had the chance to use the phrase in a sentence, the description it's not an exaggeration. Yesterday when I walked in, to work, I immediately complained about my arm, My manager asked to see the bite in question and when I pulled up my sleeve he let out a gasp, gagged a little and said that my arm didn't look good.

As soon as he said that my other co-worker asked 'what doesn't look good?' and came over to check out my arm. When i turned it towards him I swear to bob he recoiled in disgust. He tried to look away but couldn't, and went to touch it but then stopped. And then just backed away and said I needed to get my arm looked at.

By the time lunch rolled around my arm was the topic of discussion. Everyone wanted to a) see it and b) diagnosis it. Some one gave me bendryl to kill off the infection (by then it was established a spider was the most likely cause) which made me irritable and sleepy the whole shift.

I of course had to head home (after work), shower, change and de-stress before heading back to my aunts house for the third time this week. I shouldn't have come home. My bed looked so soft and comfortable and the orange cat who has claimed my room as his own took his seat near the window per usual. It was tough having to pry myself and him from the room last night.

Needless to say I am very very happy to be home today. I didn't think I could miss my bedroom this much. Because today is my last day off before vacation I have a lot of cleaning and packing to do. The plan is to pack light so that I have room in my suitcase to bring a lot of things back in. My mom has a tendency of buying me things when I'm home ( i know. it sucks. gosh) and I could use some new jeans and shirts. I'm just saying.

This vacation can't get here fast enough. I have a tendency of stepping up my A game after being home for a bit and I have high hopes that post trip to south carolina I will have a job. A real crappy, entry level one. I saw transformers the other day and rolled my eyes several times as Sam (shia lebeouf) struggled to find a job the first 30 minutes of the movie. When his parents come to visit Sam in D.C (where he lives in a beautiful apartment with his too gorgeous girlfriend) they are disappointed to learn that 3 months out of college he has yet to find a job. 3 months, try 3 years Sam! And then there is an awful montage of him going on interviews. Not only did he go on 7 in like one day but he gets an awful job working with a creepy John Malkovich.

I hate movies that depict post grad life. Even in the simpliest of forms.

I haven't had any luck in the interview department since March, nor have I ever had 7 damn interviews in one day (come to think of it I don't think I have seven job interviews in the last 3 years), so I figure something will come my way after vacation. It always does.

Ugh, time for a nap. The last few days have felt more like work than actual work and the days before vacation are going to be hectic.

Babysitting.

So i haven't slept at home in three days. THREE.

And it's not because me and Sufjan Stevens have finally shacked up. Of course not. Instead, my aunt (yes the one who kicked me out of her house a year and a half ago) needs me to babysit my lovely and adorable cousin during the evenings while she works a Midnight-8 shift at her job this week.

While I love spending time with my cousin Michelle, I do not miss living with my aunt. The last three days have been hell. Though our relationship is much better than it was a some months ago, her house is not my home and I have not adjusted to being in that house again. Even though my stay in temporary (tomorrow will be my last day house/babysitting) I can not get over house unfamiliar everything is. How I don't fit into the space there.

I've slept a total of 12 hours in the last 72 hours and I now have a disgusting spider bite on my arm which I recieved while sleeping on my aunt's couch. The bite is bad. It's like my arm is giving birth to another arm. I came into work today and people were mortified by it. Everyone gave suggestions ('gurl you need to see a doctor' was my favorite) and then supplied me with drugs (the legal kind) before staring at the bite in disgust again.

The general consensus is that I need to see a doctor because clearly the bite on my arm is not normal...at all. It's fucking huge!

So not only am I irriated, drowsy, and giving birth to a mutant side arm but I have another night at my aunts house to bear. I stopped home first (big mistake) to take a shower, get some fresh clothes and hug my bed but now I am off to another night where the bugs will no doubt violate me in my sleep.

I think I am most irritated that she knows she can ask me to sleepover and watch michelle because I don't have anything else going on. That I am always the girl with the free time. And don't get me wrong I love being around my cousin but by the time I even get to the house she is asleep and I am sitting alone in the living room frustrated with being there.

Le sigh. I can't wait til things get back to normal. I need my sanity back. I need a propers days rest in my own damn bed.

So, I Guess This Is Where You Call Me A...

...Meanie.

As a relatively nice and sweet human being I am rarely called anything but...well, nice and sweet. I am by no means perfect I admit this, I am human after all. I get frustrated and aggravated like the next gal but mean I am not. Until today that is.

My patience is winding down at Le Sad Store. With only two weeks left until I am on a train to South Carolina (VACATION!) where I will spend eight stress free and book shelving (customer helping) days, I don't think I will make it at Le Sad Store.

Unfortunately I feel like this blog has become a job venting spot. I apologize for the amount of posts I make about work. But work for me takes up so much of my life right now that it is my main source of journal writing material. Most of my friends are people I work with, I work five days a week at Le Sad Store (when they aren't cutting me down to 3) and on my days off I like to spend all my time away from everyone.

Tuesday and Thursdays have become an oasis for me. Where the annoyances from my job nearly brings me to tears every shift, my days off are ideal. I don't do anything special on those days but the fact that they are spent away from people abuse the word 'customer service' is enough for me. I don't have to answer the phones, or stupid questions or point to the travel section. I don't have to pick up after people or chase down children who are not with their parents. I don't have to give creepy guys the stank eye for opening the porn mags in the fiction aisle, and I am only concerned on my days with making sure I am happy. No one else. Tuesday and Thursday are my sanity.

On Tuesday the theater charges only 6 dollars for any movie showing. All Day. So me and a friend from work usually attend a movie in the afternoon, after I have spent some time at the library getting books to read. On Thursday I stay inside all day. I have no care to step outside and face the world. By then, I've collected all my library books and snacks in advance so that I don't have to make any impromptu trips. The landlady's cat and I lounge in my room all day (the cat likes to chill at the windowsill, I in bed) where books are the only friends I crave.

I need my Tuesday and Thursdays, because lately people have been driving me crazy and not in a normal people are annoying way. Especially at work, it is damn near impossible for me to head into my shift with anything but contempt on my face. With school just out, parents have come in the store angrily yelling at us because we don't have anymore copies of a book their kid has to read for the summer. The store is trashed daily as if people weren't taught the concept of cleaning up after themselves. And the people who come in every day (the regulars. who I swear have no job) treat the place like home, so much to the point that they never want to leave and bang on the gates early in the morning when our morning meetings get a little long.

While I am usually able to be the better person in all of these situations, I have currently lost the will or patience these days to do so. The drudgery is stifling and predictable. I cannot stand when customers address me by my name (or worse an affectionate nickname) because I work there. I am tired of having to put up with people's shit because I work in retail. I understand that I wear a name tag and a part of my job description is about customer satisfaction. But when someone calls to at noon to ask if the store is open...customer satisfaction does not exist anymore. Just plain contempt. Plain ol' contempt.

The last few days have been dreadful at Le Sad Store. I already know what titles people are looking for (into thin air, the chosen, the outsiders and among the hidden), I already know what they'll say if we don't have it (is there another store near by, this is why i shop on amazon) and I've grown thick skin against the pushy 'so basically you are telling me you don't have the book I want. Well what help are you' customers. Every day they chip at my soul and I try to hold on to my own sanity.

The summer reading thing is very bothersome to me:

Summer reading for me was never mandatory when I was a kid. At the end of the year, the teacher sent us home with a list of books that were suggested reading and because I was a nerdy, nerdy kid I read the books because I wanted to. It's completely different now. The kids who come into the store can't even pronounce the title of the books they have to read (how do you pronounce Beloved? I can bet it's not how this chap the other day pronounced it).

I like having to discover books and authors to read. I like thumbing through an aisle and stumbling upon things. And while I completely encourage required reading, the looks on these kids face are painful. As if reading is something entirely boring and soul sucking.

Surprisingly this is the least of my issues with the store as of late. The regulars are killing me. They are there every day fighting (yes, actually fighting) for the most comfortable seats in our store. We know, almost all of them by name and they have tried unsuccessfully to know all of us in some way or another. I refuse to engage with someone who spends more time at the store than I do. I refuse! They ask to use our phone regularly, to find books for them they have no intention of buying and sometimes (most of the times) they try to engage in conversations as if we are friends.

There is one fellow in particular who is a regular nuisance. A rather portly guy in his mid 30's who frequents the store with his mom sometimes (he lives with her). Every day, sans mother, he comes in the store and asks if we have the new issue of playboy on the shelf. He has asked me on several occasions along with a bunch of us on the floor, even though he already knows the answer. He also has a tendency of speaking in an Indian accent to us though he is not Indian. He has done so at the registers because he thinks it is funny and one or two of us have let him know that is is offensive and inappropriate do an a stereotypical accent.

Recently, he has discovered a book in the humor section called The Fart book. It's what you think it is: a book with 8 buttons you can push that emit the sound of different farts. Creepy guy thinks this book is hilarious and makes a point of pulling it from the shelves so he can stand by customer service and push the button. For the past two weeks, he has carried this book around the store, 'sharing' the sound with customers and laughing childishly.

I have often thought of ripping the book out of his hands, of slamming it on the nearest counter and pointing out that it wasn't funny the first time he did and it is not funny now. It is clear that he is someone who suffers from horrible social skills. He does not know when enough is enough and because no one has told him differently he continues to act like a complete nuisance in public.

During our breaks we often talk about our most hated customers, and he ranks number one all the time. He is like that kid in high school who puts the kick me target on his back because his antics are annoying. He needs attention from people and cannot see when said person has become uncomfortable.

Because I was already in a bad mood I was none to happy to see him today as soon as the door opened with the Fart Book in his hand. He made his way slowly to customer service with this smile on his face and I already knew what he was going to say.

"excuse me, excuse me, tee hee, hey, don't you think this book is funny, tee hee, excuse me, excuse me, this book don't you think it's funny, fart book, tee hee, you need to look at it".

I being an amazing customer service rep, ignored him. But instead of walking away he came around the other side just in case I didn't hear him. My manager (who was also ignoring him), turned to me and we started having a conversation about nothing above the sound of his voice so he would get the picture and walk away. The two of us ignoring him made an impact and he eventually went to bother someone else.

Per usual, I let everyone know that there was a Creeper sighting in order to prepare them for his presence. Some of us have discussed that the only way to get him to stop a) being a bother and b) annoying us is to be direct. That when he is being inappropriate we need to call him on it.

But that too is something we aren't technically allowed to do. While we spend are shifts complaining about the customers who frequent the store, retail revolves around them. And while I refuse to cater or baby or be less of a person because I wear a name tag all day, I can't be all out rude.

But I thought Creepy guy was done for the day. I thought that the anger and frustration that has been building up these last two weeks would go away because he had gone away. But that would be too easy. An hour or two before my shift ended I caught sight of his superman t-shirt heading to customer service. Immediately I made a bee-line to warm whomever was there that he was on the prowl. But before I could get there, Creeper was talking to a co-worker at customer service and as I expected he wanted to know if we had any fart books in the store.

He knew where the fart book was. He put the damn thing away only hours earlier. He just wanted someone to type up the word fart in the search engine, so he could 'tee hee' and snicker.

But for some reason, I saw this as my opportunity to get something off of my chest. I approach Creeper as my coworker was typing in the title and said:

Me: "You know where the book is. Because you come in here every day and ask us to find it for you. You know this, you were just here a few hours ago. Every Day you do this!"

"Oh. I'm Sorry. Tee Hee. But I just want to know who the author is?"

Me:"No you don't. You want us to look for a book that you've put away a million times. It's becoming a little much. We understand that it is funny already. You don't have to keep telling us"

Silence.


More Silence.

My coworker was completely taken aback and didn't know what to say or do...so he kept trying to find the name of the author of the Fart Book. When he finally retrieved the name, Creepy guy sulked away (embarrassed) to the wonderful world of fart sounds.

When I came across the other side of customer service to discuss what just happened, my co-workers said that I was out of line (say what). That I should not have said what I said to the Creeper. That if a manager or someone else were in ear shot I would have gotten in trouble.

And he's right. I would have been written up.But seriously, I just couldn't take it anymore. I haven't been able to take much of Le Sad Store anymore. The stupid questions, the insensitive customers, the repetition. The old people telling me to perk up, the young people laying in the aisle. It takes all of my strength to treat the customers with any level of respect (well the ones who are nice obviously are treated so). And this guy just incites something within me that borders on rage. Unbridled annoyed rage.

Before my shift ended the music manager (a teddy bear kind of a guy) came over to tell me that a customer had complained about me to him. He smiled and said that a heavy set guy in a blue shirt said that I was a meanie(yep, meanie) and that I provided horrible customer service in regards to a fart book he was looking for.

For christ sakes. I'm officially a meanie.

I need a vacation. I need one quick. While I am not too worried about this guy calling me a 'mean person', I am quite upset that he has a small point. Working in retail is taking a toll on me. I am losing all faith in people. I am quickly annoyed and displeased with strangers and find myself having little to no patience with their expectations from me. And it's a shame because generally I like people, I am always able to see the humanity in them but lately it is as if everyone possess qualities that I find aggravating and it is making me bitter.

I don't want to be a mean person. I don't want to come across as a bitch. But the more I work in retail the more my complaints about people grow. And the only remedy is to escape before I have become a person who I can't look at in the mirror. Before I join the ranks as one of those people jaded by the real world and turned sour too quickly by the experience.

Sick Day.

Ugh between watching Judy Moody (horrible movie) with my six year old cousin, crying softly through Super 8 (the movie is damn near perfect in my eyes) and consuming an abundance of candy, movie snacks and food...I am sick.

Sick. Sickly. Icky Ickly. Sick.

There are pros and cons to my current situation. Pro's: I was able to leave work uber early today for fear of vomiting on patrons and/or passing out in the aisle somewhere. I will also get to utilize a sick day tomorrow because I rarely (ever) call out of work. I have stocked up on soup, saltine crackers and for some reason a cheap box set of Nightmare on Elm street from Target to busy me in my sick state.

Cons: Being sick.

I am achy and light headed and generally ill feeling today. Yesterday was an epic marathon of hanging out with my aunt and baby cousin, sitting through one of the worst kid flicks I have ever seen and then sitting through one of the best movies I have ever seen soon after. By 6 o'clock I thought 'hey, I'm not feeling all that great but maybe I am just worn out'. But when I got home, my body sort of crashed, my head sort of exploded and all out flu-like symptoms took hold.

While being sick is never fun, being away from people for a while to get better is just what i need. I am worn down and exhausted and all kinds of in need for some TLC.

And because I haven't had a proper sick day in a very long time I am going to do it up in style. I am going to remain in bed for the next two days with only soup, juice and netflix near by. Should my phone ring I will promptly move it away from me. I will read my old school fear street novel from front to back because it is a quick and easy read. And pj's will be my sick outfit of choice. Pants are optional.

Outside of feeling terrible I am looking forward to resting up for a while. I doubt that I have the summer flu but I do think being generally exhausted has something to do with my current state.

Super 8

...was amazing.

the end.

New Digs

First proper day in new room and while I am still figuring out where I want to place things, I know already that I adore the view.

While it was beyond hot today an unexpected afternoon thunderstorm cooled things down for a bit and of course prompted me to take some shots of the view from my window.

If it could rain like this everyday I would be the happiest gal around. I am not sure I am going to have AC this summer because the landlady hasn't said anything yet and knowing me I won't bring it up. Though this is the coolest room in my house this heatwave has all but squashed any hopes that I would have a heat free room. I spent a bulk of my day lying very still, sleeping and moving only to get more pink lemonade.

And then out of nowhere the clouds sort of grumbled and rain started pouring and maybe I was a little delusion but the heat dropped. And for a few short hours it was a nice summer afternoon, full of rain and comfort.

I'm sort of glad this week is over. Moving has taken everything out of me. Naturally I always carry with me a feeling of displacement, and having to move has made the feeling ever more present.

While next week promises to be more time consuming, I hope, at least on the home front, that the things will fall into place. That instead of having everything I own all over the place that they will have a spot to rest soon.

Until then rain and low lights will be my solace. I find the breeze and view from this new room to be phenomenal.

Good Times.

Switching rooms should not be this traumatic. The space is larger, there is more light and the view from my new window is awesome. But as I get ready to finish my final day of packing so that I can be move into the room right down the hall, I am filled with a sense of sadness at having to leave this space (though Nicole has made it quite clear that she is ready to have her own room).

I like this room. A lot. It took me a while to get use to it. The hues. The light. The sounds from across the street. But like most things, I made it mine...eventually. And I have enjoyed every day in this room.

And it's not to say that I won't like the new space because already, I am quite smitten with the layout. But I can't say that I won't walk by the room ever so often and wish that it was my space again. Le sigh.

I should be fully moved into the new room today. Friends from work offered to help, but I told them I could manage shuffling things down a hallway. And plus it will give me some time alone in both rooms.

My mom thinks this upgrade is only the beginning. Yes, she is one of those moms who puts a positive, optimistic spin on everything. "new room" she says "new job, new everything". It's the way energy of the world works. And maybe she is right. Well, hopefully because while I am anxious about leaving the things that make me comfortable behind. The excitement over upgrades cannot be denied. Beginnings are exciting, like that lyric from that Semisonic song "every new beginning comes from some other beginnings end".

I'm sort of ready for change. Scared and anxious and a little bit misty eyed. But ready.

Time to finish packing. It is going to be a long day.

Moving Day.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe.

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

~Beckett

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

Obviously, Doctor, You've Never Been a 13 Year Old Girl.

After four days of bliss away from work, I am not looking forward to my first day back to Le Sad store after this mini vacation.


It have been a very hot and humid week in new york. The landlady hasn't installed the AC in my room yet, and I have spent much of the week in bed, laying very still with a water bottle near by to either drink f or pour from. I am not above pouring water on myself to cool down.



With only 3 days of work this week, rent and student loans looming I wanted to take it easy. I can only stress so much about every detail before the sound of my own internal monologue drives me crazy. So I made an attempt, outside of the weather, to relax.



I spent Monday in the aisles of the library finding a handful of books to kick off the summer of reading. I read a lot more during these hot, humid months. Maybe it's because the weather always reminds me of immobility. Some days it would get so hot in south carolina the only thing you could do without breaking a sweat was curl up with a book.



I spent most of my summers doing this because I had little friends and/or activities to participate in. My mom worked (works) crazy hours which prevented her from hanging out with us during the day. My brother was too busy being...well...an older brother who didn't want to hang out with his sister all damn day.




So I read. A lot. To pass the time. To connect to something. To amuse myself. I read countless books whose titles I wish I would have written down. And even now, despite the friends and the deadlines and the applications to apply to. Despite the busy nature of my life these days, I have spent every summer since those lonely high school days reading as many books as I can in the comfort of my home with music in the background.


It's weird that I continue stockpiling books during the summer. But I take such a simplistic delight in reading books all day and drinking pink lemonade (there must be pink lemonade near by). I've already finished two of the titles I checked out this week and am trying to get through Just Kids by Patti Smith. But it's a little too pretentious for me. It's a little too 'artsy fartsy' for my liking. But I am determined to finish it. I am determined to finish a bunch of things this summer because the humidity is preventing me from doing much us.




I am simultaneously reading Virgin Suicides by Jeffery Eugenides which is one of my favorite books of all time. I don't think I will ever grow out of the connection I feel towards the tragic Lisbon sisters and the boys who mourn them. Every year since I picked the title up, four or five years ago, I have read the book like it is the first time I have come across the novel.




It is lush and atmospheric, lovely and devastating and speaks to the part of me that will always be this very delicate and frustrated girl on the fringe. And while I am not a fan of most adaptations, the movie turned out to be this beautifully crafted and well acted picture that I always recommend in tandem to the book.

There is something so airy and dreamlike about the picture. There is something so painful yet beautiful about the actress who each represent the five siblings

And while I am not the hugest Kirsten Dunst fan, she does a fine job portraying Lux. This beautiful, tortured, rebellious soul.

To be honest I read this novel more so because of the emotions it stirs up, rather than the fact that I always usher in the summer with a re-reading an old favorite.


Because I am feeling a little bit disjointed, aloof and askew these days, I have gravitated to this story where the girls seems so lost by their own existence. And while my helpless and disconnect will never feel as isolating as theirs, I can't help but relate in some weird way to them; wanting to spend a few hours understanding it all from their 'voices'.



I can't tell if my own sudden weightlessness has anything to do with general anxieties or restlessness. But lately I have been feeling out of touch. That I am not congruent. That my body and mind, thoughts and actions are going in opposite directions. And I wonder how I have lost control. Or how I have lost the grasp on it all.



I know it will pass. It always does but until then I most find some way to piece everything back together. I think another random day in the city would help. I think another day walking around with my camera, snapping pictures and then 'accidentally' getting lost in a cupcake shop would do some good.


I would love to find another garden to go to, but the only one that remotely looks interesting is in the Bronx which means I would have to take a train, a subway and a bus. Too much travel if you ask me.


If I weren't so against sitting in a park by myself, I would head to a part of central park that not many tourist visit. A small enclosed space of rocks and greenery. But I feel like secret places, such as that, has to be shared with someone else. For security sake.

But I will head to the city next week. I will. I will. While I don't mind exploring the difficulties of being an intuitive, delicate girl...I've learned not to linger in that mood for too long. While I love the Lisbon sisters and the tragedy of their youth and beauty, I can only relate for so long before I remember that I have to keep moving. That I can't lull in my own sense of disconnect for too long.


It's okay to feel weightless everyone once in a while, but the longer I stay there the harder it will be for me to return to solid ground.

Everyone Leaves...But Me.

I apologize for being a bad blogger these days.

I am suffering from another case of 'where have the days gone' and it is throwing me off my writing game, amongst other things.

I spent most of last week running around accommodating friends, sleeping in, working and watching Mystery Masterpieces' Sherlock Holmes on Netflix. Of course I now have another crush on a floppy headed British Guy (whose first name is Benedict. I mean come on, how can you not love that name?!) and am headed to the library today for some Holmes reading material.

This is another crappy week for me work wise. I clock in three days at Le Sad Store and the other four will be used to apply to jobs, try not to cry from job hunting frustrations and dance as much as I can. Hours are still being slashed despite the fact that we have lost 5 or 6 people in the last week. Most of them worked in cafe or worked when I wasn't around so their absence has no effect on me, but a couple of days ago Evan pulled me aside to let me know that he put in his two weeks notice too. And I am a little thrown off by this.

I like Evan a lot. Despite that 2 month period where I ignored him, I adore this kid. I trained him during his first weeks at Le Sad Store and ate lunch with him during the weird new kid months. We've exchanged DVD's, gone to see movies together, and he was one of the people I spent days in the city with.

I am crushed that he is leaving (happy of course that he has gotten a new job, at a, um, Harley Davidson store. I know.) and cannot wrap my head around this new wave of exits that are happening. I always describe them as waves because they consist of weeks, particularly in the summer, when a large part of our staff finds new employment. I wouldn't say better employment but new nonetheless.

Last year, right around July, we lost so many people managers were scrambling to fill their spots. That too is happening now. On Friday three people called out on a four person close. I opened, but it didn't stop evil manager from asking if I could do a double shift. I quickly said 'no' and she fumed. The next night, two people from a mid shift called out along with one closer. I was not asked to stay this time around but I made sure to get the hell out of the store before anyone could ask.

Everyone however, is pissed that hours are being slashed hardcore even as managers are hiring up a storm (taking away more hours). But after the last three days of a short staffed store I can't help but understand their decision to hire people for backup purposes. I just hope that I have a new job secured before anyone of them start working there.

I am a lot more practical about this job search. Worried, some, because there are a slew of recent grads lurking about now, but still hopeful. It doesn't mean that I am not bat-shit anxious from time to time. It doesn't mean that I haven't contemplated getting any job rather than sticking to my guns about the industry I am currently trying to break in to. But I'd go crazy if those thoughts consumed me every day. I would be in a really horrible funk if I didn't see the silver lining in it all.

I am applying to a UK production scheme just for the hell of it. I mean it can't hurt. International applicants are encourage to apply and though I have no idea how I would fund moving to the UK if I got this paid internship, having the opportunity to work abroad makes me happy. It makes me feel productive and like I am going somewhere.

Last night I was joking around at customer service with our newest head cashier, a kid who is just 19 and a Freshman in college. No one knows how he got a head cashier position so quickly. He'd only been there a month or two when they offered him the raise and of course he didn't turn it down. He is a very smart, attractive, creative guy who is mature for his age and he has become the 'golden boy who can do no wrong' to the managers.

At first I didn't like him to much but over time we have developed a very joking jovial relationship. He was hanging around customer service during his break last night because he needed help finding a book. It was a Adobe Suite CS5 manual (?) that he could not find anywhree in the store but that he 'needed' because he wants to work as a freelance designer and wanted a leg up on the competition. I repeat the child is 19 years old.

I, naturally, assist him in finding his book while he explains that he needs the book so he can start a website that will help people start their own webpages. It'll be like a hosting site or something and he has already claimed a domain name. When we finally come across the book he explains that wants the website to be up and running soon, so that he can start his own business within a matter of months(only 19, remember this).

He was rambling so fast that I had to ask him to slow down, 'you're only 19'. I continued with a general 'ambition is cool and all but at 19 I was moping floors at a philly cheesesteak joint (that lasted all but 6 weeks)' spiel but he was too busy thumbing through the manual to pay attention.

I know, some kids are just driven, some kids have that ambition sort of thing going on but at 19, I couldn't imagine wanting all that responsibility. At 19, I wished I would have been more of a 19 year old. It irks me how he talks about people in their 20's. As if we lack the ambition that kids his age have. I am only 6 years older than this guy but he acts as if the age gap is by generation.

He tellls me that he is 'so ambitious and independent' because he can't depend on his wealthy parents to support him. I understand this. I tell him this. And I agree that thinking about the future now is always a good thing.

But as we are talking about goals and such he says, out of nowhere, that he doesn't want to end up like me when he graduates college in three years. I. Shit. You. Not.

I know he was just joking, he said he was just joking, I pretended to cry in my hands (while I boiled with rage inside) to make him feel bad. He then tried to apologize for the way it came out and he said 'I'm kidding you know that, if i was a writer like you, working at the bookstore would be ideal. you know, but I want to work in graphic design so being a Head Cashier here is like, dumb, you know. I couldn't imagine being 23 and still working here'.

So cute. So young. So naive.

I agreed some. And then walked away, trying not to destroy something. I let the comment go the rest of the day. I went about my shift as if he hadn't just said that. And then I got home, and it ate at me. It burned through my flesh and tore at my veins. What the hell?! What a polarizing thing to say to someone. As if I enjoy being a 25 year old bookseller because I know how to put a couple of sentences together to form a cohesive thought. What a dumb thing to say to someone just because you assume they lack ambition? The comment infuriates me on so many levels and insults my already bruised ego.

I sure as hell don't want to be anyone's template on 'what not to do'. I sure as hell don't want to be anyone's worse case scenario. Because truthfully, despite the aggravation, frustration and general anxieties I know that I have more potential than being at Le Sad Store and I am working my ass off to prove this to myself.

And it sucks hardcore that everyone around me is leaving, that everything is in this beautiful state of change (again) and I feel left behind. But I know this won't last forever. It is not as if I am standing still while everything revolves around me. It is not as if I have given up hope that I will get a new job, or a UK production scheme, or maybe incentive to try grad school. I know this.

I just have to keep moving and catch up to the things that I want. It's a lot harder than I thought. He'll learn that in a few years.

Anyway, enough of my ramblings.

I should get dressed and out of bed. There are so many books I want to read this summer and despite the thunderstorm clouds I see from my window, I really want to stop by the library and pick up a few things. I don't know why the library is so relaxing. Oh, because there are free books. My bad.

~Beckett

Rainy Sunday.

I've up and done something to internet explorer. I haven't been able to log into blogger for days now. I guess this can be shelved as a 'check, check, one, two three...is this thing working' post. I apologize in advance for the randomness.

I know blogger was updating it's server a few days ago, but something has happened between Tuesday and now. I couldn't login at first. And then when that failed, I was unable to access the website altogether. I was having quite the panic attack about this.

I thought I lost all of my entries from the get go. I accessed the site from my phone and it suggested that I try using another internet browser because I probably messed up cookie feature.So for now, i'll have to use Safari in order to access my blog, at least until I can figure out what the hell I did on internet explorer.

Anyway,

I requested today off a couple of weeks ago because I had plans with my aunt and cousin to attend an art fair in Sleepy Hollow. But we are a family full of flakes, and she didn't call this week to set up a time to be at her house and I was to lazy to call and ask her if our plans were still on. Plus, I kind of just wanted a weekend to myself again.

I'm a selfish, selfish girl and quite possibly the only 25 year old who likes not having anything to do on the weekend.

With summer just around the corner, I am making half-hearted attempts to a) curb my terrible eating habits (um, eating anything in my sights that looks like a cookie) and prepare myself for a summer of activity and job hunting.

I actually spent some time today applying to another literary agency gig in the city. It's a pretty small company (3 agents and the owner) but I feel oddly confident about getting an interview. I am weeks away from having to face student loan repayments which is causing a damn near heart attack before sleep. I am in the home stretch and have to find something quick.

Le Sad Store is still cutting hours all the while interviewing people to hire for the summer. My attitude has been less than stellar making it even harder to bear dealing with customers and screaming children. The other day, some mom let her kid trail popcorn all around the kids department. She did not clean this mess up when she left and I refused to do so while I was there. So the department smelled of kernel all day.

Outside of my dissatisfaction at work, I think my weird funk, lag, is all but behind me. While I am not excited about hotter weather (I prefer wind and rain) the sun has inspired activity. I am jotting down a reading list for the summer, along with various places I'd like to visit in or around the city. Apparently in Brooklyn there is a rooftop cinema where you can watch classic movies. I will find someone to drag to this. I will.

Plus there are going to be many parks and zoos now available to explore. Having a steady job, with steady income would fund these excursions well. Heather has been damn near perfect in advice, as we are both in the same position. Outside of talking up Harry Potter to such acclaim that I had no choice but to start reading the series, we are job hunting buddies.

And after checking out this agency, I like it a lot. Their website is pretty basic but i've been able to get a sense of the people who work there via facebook (and one of their leading agents is a cute Brit. tee hee). But who knows. I have to apply first, and hope that my qualifications pay off, and hope that I am not scared shitless during the interview like I was last time. I'll worry about all of that when it comes around, I guess.

I think I am going to finish the rest of my Sunday night, finishing up Harry Potter and listening to Beach House. I'm more relieved that blogger works and that I haven't lost this journal. I was starting to get worried after countless attempts to connect to the site.

My anxiety has now been put to rest and I don't have to start writing post from the library again. Last time I attempted that I sat next to a guy clearly looking at porn.

~Beckett

She's Just Not That Into You....No, Seriously.

So I have this friend at work who left his pregnant wife for a cafe server soon after I started working at Le Sad Store. Yeah it was pretty bad.

For weeks all anyone could do was gossip about how 'distasteful' the whole thing was. He was 24 at the time and married a girl who he 'didn't really love but felt really close'to'. His exact words. A lot of people from work even attended their small wedding. And soon she became pregnant with their kid.

So when he started being really friendly with Cafe Chick, everyone silently judged. When he started being touchy touchy with her, every one was grossed out. And when he announced that he was leaving his now 8 months pregnant wife, well, everyone called him out on it.

This alone should have stopped me from being friends with him. Cheating is icky. I would feel all sorts of betrayed if the guy I was seeing decided he that needed someone else to satisfy him. I would feel all sorts of ashamed that I'd let this guy into my life only for him to step all over our commitment.


And cheating is cheating. Whether you are married or dating some guy or a girl, the moment you step outside of a relationship is wrong.

But me and this guy have grown to form quite the friendship outside my first initial impression of him. Outside of my lack of respect for his character and actions. In fact, despite him being a cheater, he's one of my closest friends at work. He introduced me to doctor who, we've hung out a billion time watching movies and talking about superheroes. I find him to be a funny, interesting though flawed friend.


But I've never 'agreed' with his relationship with this cafe server. Not just because he cheated on his wife with this chick. But as very platonic friend, I think it's safe to admit that Cafe Girl and him make an odd couple.

Their relationship has always been weird because outside of, i guess, sexual attraction,they are polar opposites. She is a moody girl, who complains a lot and takes things way to seriously. She is also a control freak. He is a childish man/child who cannot take anything seriously even when you want him to. And he often throws tantrums when he doesn't get his way and then expects everyone to care about what is ailing him.

She treats him like a child (she has reason too) and he relies on her like she is a mom. A bunch of us recently stopped going over their house (yep, they moved in together) because the tension between them was unbearable. I once went over to watch horror movies with him and when she came home I invited her to stay and join us in our horror marathon. She immediately accepted the invitation and took a seat next to him on the couch.

The complaints continued the instant she sat down. The popcorn was too salty, the movie sucked, why didn't he take out the recyclables, why were we talking through the movie. I quickly decided that I would stay until the movie ended and then make my way home to my safe pleasant house.

I don't know when the honeymoon period ended for them (or if it ever really started) but they fight nonstop in front of any and everyone. And not in a funny playful way. They argue about the stupidest things and then shoot each other 'i hate you' stares.


For the past year, he has made comments to everyone that he was going to break up with her. That she is an awful girlfriend who completely emasculates him in public. He talks badly about her nonstop when she isn't around to the point where we all sort of roll our eyes in a 'do it already or shut up' way.

And I know as a friend I should tolerate at least hearing about their failing relationship but to be honest I couldn't care less. A part of me attributes his complete misery in this relationship to karma. That he is getting exactly what he deserved.


Last week a couple of us went to an arcade( i slayed zombies like a champ) to blow off some steam. The whole bus ride there He wouldn't let up about his relationship problems. They hate each other, they don't talk, she doesn't want to be touched, he hates going home. I sort of zoned out. Then tried to change the conversation. Then zoned out again and played with my camera phone.


I just can't take pity on a cheater who is now miserable in his current relationship. I can't. And the fact that they've both let it go on this long is just....dumb.

But we were all sort of surprised when a few days ago he posted online that he was now single! That they were finally over! But it wasn't him who pulled the plug

After months of talking badly about her to other people, wishing he would have stayed with his ex-wife, getting customers number at work ( I forgot to add that part) and telling every one that Cafe Server was the worst mistake in his life....she left him.

She told him that she was no longer loved him and that she needs to move on with her life.



Oh-em-gee.


I of course found all of this out via facebook (the site is becoming a headache) and sent him a text message. He said that he wanted tell me what happened in person and if I was able to grab coffee or something. This was Friday and surprisingly I had plans to hang out with Heather (i adore this girl) that afternoon. I told him that I was going to be busy most of the day but that I could swing by work later for a little while.


I was having a perfectly nerdy time with Heather the next day, which made having to see him (and hear about the breakup) even more of a nuisance. Heather and I watched Kickass at her house while eating pizza and filling in our life experiences. She showed me so more job sites to beef up my search and I looked over her resume to give some feedback. The fact that I've made a friend who is like me in so many ways is amazing. The fact that I have a friend outside of Le Sad Store is even better. We are really hitting it off.

And just as she was convincing me to give the Harry Potter series a try (she wants to have a harry potter movie marathon before the last one comes out in July) I got a text from Him asking where I was. I didn't even realize that it was getting late and me and Heather were still having a blast.Though I hate using phones while hanging out with people, I excused myself to text him back saying 'I'm in the middle of something, but I'll be there as soon as I can'. I apologized to Heather for having to put an end to our awesome day but 'my friend just broke up with his girlfriend.....drama time'.

She dropped me off at work and I found him sulking in the break room. The first thing he said was 'I can't believe she broke up with me. I gave up everything for her and loved her'.

Um, weren't you just badmouthing her two days ago, didn't you just show me a picture of some chick you went on a 'kinda date' with while Cafe Chick went on a trip. I don't understand why suddenly there is an about face. Why suddenly you are the victim in your relationships demise.

I didn't think it was possible that someone could get more annoying without a significant other but he is proving otherwise. Suddenly, in a platonic way of course, I have had to console him in his heartache. He wants to talk all the time. He wants to know what went wrong and why. He wants to win her back because outside of hating her guts, he loves her. He can't believe she broke up with him first.

There is only so much I can tolerate as a girl. During these conversations I find myself drifting to a place where his voice cannot be heard. I find myself wanting to say something incredibly rude like 'maybe she broke up with you because while she wasn't the best girlfriend (and actively pursued a married man) you aren't a good boyfriend at all".

The guy is 26! Divorced, a father and still lacking any sense of responsibility for everything he does. How do you accumulate this much baggage at 26? How do you expect anyone (especially) me to feel pity.

I have no idea what to do. He wants me to help him look for an apartment in the next week or so, but I fear that he will suggest that the two of us should become roommates (hell no). Or worse. That I will fully grow so sick of hearing about how 'she wronged him' that I will be incredibly rude and distance myself from him.

Because while I disagree with their whole relationship, Cafe Chick may have a point. Why stay with someone you aren't completely interested in. Why continue shaking up in an apartment when you cannot tolerate the sight of each other. Maybe, simply put, she is just not interested in being his girlfriend anymore. And to tell you the truth, I can't really fault her.

Tis Friday!

I have today off. It's weird. I'm so not use to having Friday's off I had to remind myself last night that I did not have to go to bed early for work in the morning.





This week has felt less like a mini-vacation and more like an 'errand running and hanging out with people' week. I've totally ignored some deadlines in favor of applying to jobs, hitting up an arcade and cooking pasta.

I recently found this incredibly awesome internship to apply to and am investing a lot of energy to submit the application before the closing date. Sorry Literary Agency you'll get your reader response next week.



Did I mention this internship is in the UK! A while back I was interested in applying to a production work scheme with BBC. It was after I went on an interview with BBC America that I starting looking into actual work programs over there. I love British television. Outside of Doctor Who, the Brits know how to make good television programs. Survivors, Mr. Bean, Blackadder, Monday/Monday, It Crowd, the Inbetweeners. I could go on.

So on some level it makes sense to learn more about British programming in the UK.



Overseas most of the work schemes or internships are paid for and because I have little ties to my life in the states combined with a huge desire to be near British boys, I've been hunting down the right internship since August.





The BBC one turned out to be a bust. The application was beyond impossible to complete. Not only did it require a lengthy written application but I would have to send in a production reel. So, I put that opportunity behind me (production reel, that would involve learning how to edit first) and kept searching. A few days ago I stumbled upon a communications and marketing internship with another television company. It's a 12 month, paid internship in a field of my interest (kinda) and would be amazing if I got it.





The application is due next Saturday. I'm sending it in on Monday. I don't even care if this is a ridiculous thing to do. I'm doing it. And if I get it, I would freak out beyond freak out. Could you imagine the things I'd see and write about.





I realize now that wanting a change and actually making the change happen are two different things. And four days away from the Le Sad Store has put many a things in perspective. In retail, even though cashiers and customer service people deal with a majority of people's bullshit all day (some later cried in front of me on Wednesday because she was new to the area and hated everything) we are low on the totem poll, even to the managers. Oh, the store couldn't function without us busting our ass but no one cares because we are replaceable. There is some other desperate, young sap ready to take our place.





Despite my hours being cut dramatically, Le Sad Store is actually hiring new people. The other day some girl called in to check on the status of on the interview she came in for the week before. She will most likely will start in a few weeks and I am not too pleased about this only because all we hear about are the amount of hours the store isn't able to give out because of fiscal year b.s. and now we are hiring more people who will, take hours away from us.





At 25 I really do want to work for a company that believes in me as much I as believe it. And that, along with wanting to utilize real skills, is why I need to leave Le Sad Store. Wow, I think I just said a very adult thing. Weird.





So while I have a manuscript report to compose, a post to write (darren criss post most likely) and a room that is in serious need of cleaning I have been using most of my energy to sound smart, witty and awesome as hell for this internship. I don't know if I'll get it or if Americans are allowed to apply but it can't hurt. Right? I could finally be UK bound. For a whole year, and I wouldn't be broke.



Outside of working on the application today, Heather (the old friend I'm reconnecting with) and I are going to munch on pizza and watch movies at her place for a little bit. She is actually the most delightful person I've met here. It's like our friendship has just been on pause for the last 15 years and we've picked up quite nicely as friends. It's nice having a friend outside of Le Sad Store, someone I can just watch movies with and talk about Darren Criss or Tosh 2.0 without sounding nerdy.

So yeah, on my very first Friday off in a very long time, I've got a internship to apply to, a post to write and a friend to hang out with. Things are looking up. Except for my allergies which are beating the hell out of me, things are looking up.

May 4th 2011.

Yesterday (may 4th )my nephew Elijah would have turned four years old. Oh, wow where is time going.

I just learned that today/tonight, yesterday (I'm writing at a weird hour. sorry) that the fourth of May is Star Wars day or something. He was born on Stars War day.

I have had many discussions at work about nerd culture and whether I fall into the category of nerdom. It's weird, I didn't think that there needed to be any discussions on whether I was a nerd. Apparently they weren't friends with me in high school or college.

It wasn't until I moved up here that I learned that my nerdy, and geeky and book wormy self does not automatically classify me as a nerd, per se. Not to any of the people I hang out with anyway.


In actuality, I am a person (by somes standards) who has all the nerd like qualities while lacking the essential 'depth' to earn the nerd badge. The depth stems from the fact that I have never seen Star Wars and apparently any one who considers themselves a nerd has had to seen Star Wary.

Yep, I may be the only person in the whole entire world who hasn't seen any of the movies. And not because I haven't had access to them but because, in all honesty, I have had no interest in seeing them.

I like some space movies, but this one has never drawn me in. And, like my hesitation with Doctor Who, I'm afraid it's nerdiness will suck me in.

So I haven't seen them. I haven't even made the attempts to. And apparently in nerd land, or being a human being land, this disqualifies in terms of labeling myself a nerd.

And today of all days I learned that the 4th is a huge stars day. Everyone at work kept saying things like "my the fourth be with you' while I shrugged my shoulders and went about my own solitary business.
When someone asked what was wrong, I mumbled something along the lines of 'i don't give a shit about Star Wars day' and sulked away. Because May 4th will never be Stars Wars for me. It will always be Elijah's birthday. It will always be some day that we won't be able to celebrate with him. It'll always be a day where I'd like to acknowledge he existed among the stars just for a little while.

Grief continues to be a very weird thing. I am more emotional around his birthday than the day he died. For the past two years my family and I have used July 4th as a celebration of his short life. We pretend that the fireworks that light the sky are for him in some weird celebratory way. That everyone is kissing the sky with their praises of him.

But on his birthday, I can't escape the reality that the day of his birth will always be difficult. It will always remind me that time continues to go on without him. That every year we get older and form new memories and bonds and yet he will always be a life interrupted in our story.

And I don't know anger. Not real anger anyway. I don't know how to be completely pissed at whomever for his death. I can only feel this incredible sadness around his birthday. I can only imagine who he would have been. And the truth is more devastating than fiction.

We weren't incredibly close to his mom (my brothers ditsy ex-girlfriend). She moved away before Elijah was born and remains in the Midwest somewhere. She was a nomadic sort of gal with no homestead and an eagerness to escape. We have stopped any and all communications with her even though she calls every once in a while to see how we are doing. We blame her in a way. We have our reasons.

And I know, that if he'd reached four my mom, brother and I would have been very distinct relatives to him. We would be voices on the phone. Corny birthday cards and oddly smiling people in photos to him. We wouldn't have known him that well, I wouldn't be able to tell you his favorite color or tv show. I wouldn't be able to describe his laughter or cries. I would only be able to tell you that I loved him because he was family. The first born son to my very immature brother.

Even then this reality of what his life at four would have been is not what keeps me up at night. It is not what makes me sad on the fourth of May. The toddler I imagine him being and the life I wished he would have had continues to weigh heavy. I am overcome by tears from time to time; at work, walking home, or in my room at night because what I mourn the most about his death is that he will never get to be a part of this stupid beautiful, terrifying and strangely comforting world.

He will never get to not watch Star Wars or misbehave in public to the point where my mom gives the evil eye. He will celebrate holidays with us or graduate kindergarten. He will never grow to hate or resent us, like we all do of our relatives. He will never grow to accept our craziness for love and to bury his face in our shoulders.

And everyday the world just keeps revolving and happening and going on. We just keep getting older and celebrating dumb Star Wars day and being alive ....and he's not here to be apart of it. And I don't think I'll ever get over that. I don't think it'll ever make sense of that in my mind.

His birthday continues to be difficult. We continue to talk about him as the 'baby'. As if he isn't really gone at all but instead just tucked away into some pocket of time we aren't allowed to access yet. As if he is hiding and waiting for us to find him.

But it's weird to say that with time, grief is becoming bearable. That the will pangs of sadness flood me even more than the did when he died, I am learning to adapt out of love. That with time, we aren't forgetting him, we are just learning to adapt around his absence. Out of love. It what keeps us going.

It makes it easier, knowing that while time is erasing the particulars of him from my memories that I can hold on to the fact that he continues to be loved (terribly) and missed (terribly) and mourned (terribly) on May 4th. A day that will forever be his. Out of love.

Here We Go Again.

Because my job is awesome (wait for it) and fair (wait for it) and distributes hours evenly among employees (wait for it) I have four days off this week. Four. Can you sense the sarcasm.

On Wednesday the schedule for this week was posted and I nearly cried when I saw that I would only be working Sunday, Wednesday and Saturday. Three days of short five hour closing shifts. Thanks to Evil Manager, I am not going to make any money this week, which won't help my increasing brokeassness.

I called my mom in near panic when I saw the schedule and she said I should go to Evil Manager and say something. That I should explain that I know that hours are being slashed left and right but that I can't live off off of three days. I can't even kind of live off of three days. But I hate having to explain my financial situation to people. I hate having to bring up the fact that I am supporting myself solely from this job and can barely do so with this money alone.



I am still applying to jobs, writing 'look at me' cover letters, and running to my phone every time it rings hoping that it is some employer but my spirits have been a little low (even with new doctor who episodes airing) and this Le Sad Store mess almost put me out of commission. I feel all over the place and tired and general disinterest in anything outside of sleep.

But time is not on my side. I don't really have the luxury of wallowing for too long. Some days I have to tell myself to keep moving forward, despite the hurdles that continue to present themselves.

I feel like we should still be in march. I don't know what the hell happened to April or why it is already the 2nd of May but summer is right around the corner and any thought I had of having a job by the first of may is completely out the window.

It's strange. Very strange. To think that only months ago I thought I would have a job by now and yet I am still in the same situation, if not worse. I am still at Le Sad Store, I am still broke as broke can get and I I still have no concrete idea of what I will be doing in the next few months.

I just need concrete ways to get from my ideas to reality. Which is very hard to do because I am a daydreamer. But I'd rather sit down and map out what exactly I need to do in order to get me where I need to be, rather than dreaming up a life I am not any closer to having.

I am envious of the people around me who have actual plans for the future, none involving being at Le Sad Store.Evan is taking up bar tending classes in the city so he can get some sort of license. People still in school are either going abroad or taking some time off to hang out with friends at the beaches near by.

And me, while I'm starting to feel like a staple at the store, the one constant thing there that everyone can reference back to. The person who isn't 'going anywhere'.

I am frustrated, which is terrible to be when everything around me is in bloom. I am not much of a green thumb, i have the worst allergies in the world, and I am not really a fan of hot weather but with Summer coming around I feel some form excitement in my belly for the warmth and possibility.

The greyness of winter is all but forgotten. It's as if I went to bed one rainy night and woke up to green lawns filled with tulips. No lie. And outside of my general frustration and resentment, I am as excited about summer. I am going to buy skirts (because they are cheap and not heavy) and t-shirts to replace my current wardrobe of sweaters and pants. I want to buy a plant for my room along with de-cluttering the place. And I am storing up recipes to try when I have the kitchen all to myself.

I am even planning small trips to the city. Nothing as epic as my birthday, but I am obsessed with finding another garden retreat. And the zoo, central park and other outdoorsy things are on my brain. Which is a good thing. I need a break from my routine. My birthday extravaganza put me in such a great mood that I hope to replicate the same optimism and enthusiasm that ushered March in.

Because I know loan repayments are just around the corner. I know this. And I know that the job hunt is tiresome and daunting (despite my valiant efforts to do so). But I I have to put things in perspective, and I have to keep my spirits up and I can't drop anchor here, even if more sleepless nights are in my future.

There are things I really have to contemplate. I really must figure out if going to England for a production scheme is realistic (though the thought is the most ideal aspect). Or if I can tolerate or afford grad school ( I really don't want to go to grad school) or if I should just get a new job altogether as Le Sad Store seems to have no space for me anymore.

I don't know. All the thinking makes me tired, weary and a little angry but with April out of the picture I can focus on making waves in May. Something has to change soon. I know I say this a lot and by now it sounds like a broken record, but it has to for my sanity and peace of mind.

And with four days off this week I minus well use the time to figure some things out.