Smondays.

As expected this weekend was rough. I promised myself I wouldn't sulk and hide away from the world and feel miserable and tired and depressed. But that did not happen. I did all of that.

 Saturday started off okay enough and I thought maybe I would survive the weekend unscathed.
I'm trying to tone up and have started running in the mornings as my only form of exercise. I am so used to being on my feet all day that I am nervous that my sedentary office job will cause me to gain weight. I generally am not a person who cares about weight gain or loss but I must admit I like being slight. I like being slender and quick. I like not taking up a lot of space. And i'd like to maintain this for as long as my body allows.

So i jog.. Particularly,  in the morning because I feel less anxious doing so when people are around.  On Saturday I woke up super early so I could run to the pond that's about a mile from my house. Running has and always will be a very relaxing and cathartic thing for me. I like the way my lungs feel while jogging. I like the way my legs push forward. I like being in control along the path i choose.

On my way back from the pond, I stopped by the post office to grab mailing boxes, bought food and coffee from the local diner and  stopped at the farmers market for flowers. It was a pleasant and easy morning. It was an obvious and deliberate attempt to distract myself from Marie but it worked temporarily.

I had tentative plans to see Krumpus with a friend and maybe hit up some dealerships later in the day but Heather was busy and had to reschedule the movie and I didn't want to go to any dealerships alone. So i decided to read, clean up a bit around my apartment, dance uncoordinated to some new tunes and binge watch a show on Netflix. If I had a car I might have gone ice skating because every year around Marie's death, I like being on the ice. It's akin to running in many ways for me.

Unfortunately my good mood started to decline late into the evening. Kat was still bugging me about going bowling for her brothers birthday and I could not understand why she was so adamant that I attend. I love Kat. I really do. I know I love her because I can be super critical of her need too smother. I admit that I am not an easy person to love. Sean often accused me of being dismissive when he tried to show affection. And while he was not a boy who loved me as equally as I loved him, he was right in many ways.

I am so used to being the one who cares for others that when someone tries to offer it to me, I resist. I resist hard. I find it as an invasion of my privacy. So when I told Kat that this was going to be a rough weekend, as I do every year, I was hoping she'd let me be. She'd leave me alone to process my thoughts and life. That she'd respect that for two days out of the year I am just inaccessible.  But she wouldn't and didn't. After texting me about her bro's birthday, she kept texting me about random things. Things that I had no interest in being apart of . Things I simply did not care about,

Eventually I responded back that she just needed to give me space and let deal with whatever I was dealing with instead of being so intrusive. Even though I know she was trying to be there for me and perhaps distract me from the weekend...i also felt that she wanted to be apart of that day because it is something that she will never have access too. Kat's the kind of person that if something is off limits it makes it more desirable. And for once, or twice, i didn't need her to take claim of something that I need to be mine and mine alone.

 Of course, I didn't say any of this via text. Instead I literally wrote: "yo, you need to let me chill and mourn my friend. everything else at the moment is irrelevant. I'm sorry" We didn't talk the rest of the weekend and when I texted her this morning this is what I got back:

Le sigh. 

 I must admit that envy and jealousy are two of my biggest faults. I am excited for other people's happiness, I really am,  but sometimes, especially when it's someone close to me, I am often filled with envy at their good fortune. It's hard to write it any other way without sounding like a dick, so I am not going to hide behind it. Sometimes I am a dick. There I said it.

While Kat and I are super close I cannot help how envious I am of her. I am envious that things seem to come easy to her or that the people in her life, especially me, make things simple for her. At the moment  I am super freaking annoyed by this car debacle and envious that she has a new car.I am super peeved that '[you] made buying a new car sound so easy...so you, know i deserve to get a new one too". Obviously I know that things will fall into my lap at the right time. I have to be patient. I also have to and should be excited for her. But I am not and I am not proud of this.

Instead I am only partial to these reactions. Where I should feel elated and happy,  I am annoyed that the moment and achievement couldn't have been mine and mine alone. Sure, she was and is free to get new things. Sure, her wanting a new car could have been a long time coming. But because I know, as she has told me repeatedly, that her decision to get a car was hugely influenced by my own..i can't help but feel robbed of the moment. Of having this thing to cap off such a tremendous year for me. It just feels like she stole my groove and like Stella I just want it back.

More importantly, this car thing is probably just a symbol for how I am often annoyed that things do not feel like mine. That when I need something or some day or some achievement to be my own Kat HAS to be apart of it and not in a way that is supportive. I am a huge fan of supporting women who get shit done! I  super supportive of women who have each other's back as we try to have it all. But Kat sometimes does not bring much to the table in this department. She waits for others to do things for her and latches on. It's as if she is always there in the background, lurking and taking notes and then expediting a version of the change faster. Or worse at the same freaking time. It's exhausting.

 With her, I am always  responsible for lighting the spark but am then left in the shadow of what it has ignited. Sometimes I wish she could provide the same in return.  It's petty I know, but as I stated before I'm a dick. Worse than that i am a  jealous one.

I am trying to work my way out of this funk and general bad mood. I am thinking about bringing this up to her delicately but as of right now I can't come up with the right words to express how I am feeling. So instead i am sort of being a passive aggressive dick who can't come to terms with change that isn't my own. Despite how I feel, I am grateful that I survived this weekend, so I am hoping the Christmas spirit kicks in soon. Like real soon! I could use a pick me up. I could use some inspiration. I could use a break from this malcontent.

In totally unrelated news, I saw Fifty Shades of Grey this weekend because..you know, curiosity is a helluva drug. I have not laughed that loud in a very very long time and I am grateful for the sheer silliness of the movie. There are several moments in the actors performance where you can tell they are like 'you know what...fuck it...this shit is dumb' followed by campy dialogue or explicit sex scene. The content, subject matter and lifestyle are not foreign too me. I am not that much of a prude.  There are things I leave out for a reason.

I did read the first book long before it was released in stores (there was no reason to continue the series about book 1)  and was underwhelmed to say the least. If it weren't for Jamie Dornan (who is beautiful) I would have skipped the movie altogether. But alas, I didn't because I am a sucker for a hot british dude. While the movie was pretty shitty, as was the book,  I can appreciate a really dumb flick that knows it is dumb.  I  can also appreciate actors taking part in said movie because it pays the bills. So while I was un- titillated i sure was tickled. And it did help me out of my sadness this weekend...even if the sadness was replaced by sheer mortification.

The Before and After

In a few months I will be 30 years old.  30 years freaking old. I know, it's fucking weird right? I started this blog when I was 19 and a sophomore in college and now here I am on the brink of 30 being a person and stuff. I would say I don't know where the times has gone but thanks to my various online and personal journals, I have a clear sense of how the years that have passed.

You'd think being almost 30, I'd be able to make concrete decisions for myself without feeling guilty. But that hasn't happened yet. And I am starting to fear that it never will. These past few weeks I have found myself participating in plans and outings that have no interest to me but that i feel obligated to attend because...you know, i don't want to hurt anyone's feelings.

As someone who never used to be a team player, I am quite the people pleaser when it comes to people i love. Just this past Saturday my aunt wanted me to help her decorate her apartment for the holidays. Despite the fact that I had other plans (staying home and sleeping, wrapping presents and making dinner) i felt that i couldn't abandon my aunt. I felt that her asking me to help her meant she needed me and this need overwhelmed my own desire to have a stress free Saturday. Of course once i got to my aunts house, she revealed that she just really wanted my help shopping and carrying things back to this house. Four hours later, after being her assistant for the day ,she dismissed me and I was allowed to go home.

On my way, I got a text from my friend Heather who wanted to know if I would go to Target with her. Any other time and day I would have said no but  Heather and I recently had quite the falling out  (because she said some really shitty stuff about my past dealings with Sean and my current dealings with no one) and she's been trying to make it up to me ever since. We've been friends since Kindergarten and despite how bossy and all consuming she can be I can relate her anxious ways and how lonely she is, even though she has a lot of family and friends around her.

Our friendship is complicated but when I need her she is always there. Vice versa.But she has a tendency to lash out when things are not going well for her personally, which is exactly how are falling out happened. We were out for coffee one day and she was having a miserable week and felt anxious and stressed. Instead of dealing with her own stuff she projected her miseries on me  and vented about my life out of nowhere. We haven't talked in months, but the holiday season is all about forgiveness and moving on, so we have spent the last few weeks mending our friendship.

When she asked me if I wanted to hang out with her on Saturday soon after the disastrous time at my aunts , I told her (albeit still very tired) that I would love to go shopping. 3 hours later I was finally home, exhausted, depleted and upset for not putting myself and needs first.

The night continued to get worse in the 'i'm overwhelmed' department because Kat kept texting me about going Christmas shopping the next day with her and her brother. The next day of course being Marie's birthday.I had already stressed that December 6th (and December 13th) is and will also be a very weird day and that I probably wouldn't be able to make it.  But she wouldn't let up: 'we'll only be out for a few hours' 'we'll have a lot of fun', 'my brother is looking forward to this'.

 Lately, Kat has been inviting me to hang out with her and her bro ( a very nice guy) because she thinks he is lonely and needs someone to chill with. Because this is not an episode of friends, I am very hesitant with Kat's assertion that her brother likes hanging out with me and am even more peeved that we are often coupled together every time there is an outing with the four of us.

I must stress that Kat's brother is awesome. His name is Ryan. He is super nice and funny and great to hang out with. If he weren't related to my best friend, I would probably catch the feelings. We generally have a good time hanging out with each other and he is not put off by my silliness. This summer, the four of us went to the Renaissance Faire  and strangers kept coming up to her brother and I asking if we were a couple, and that if we weren't... we should be. It was weird. Cute but very weird.

 But because I grew up having a shit load of crushes on my older brother's friends I know i want to avoid the murky gray complicated area of liking a friends sibling. Honestly, it's a big deal breaker in my book. Unless of course, I happen to become friends with anyone related to Michael Fassbender. So I am trying to keep my interactions with her brother as platonic as possible. I don't want to entertain the idea of us growing closer.

But I don't think Kat sees how weird it is for me. She may not even recognize that her brother might or has developed an interest in me. She may not even recognize that I might or may develop an interest in him. I think she has tunnel vision and knows that when I am around,  her brother is in a better mood. That he is a tab bit happier. So in her attempt to get me out of the house on Sunday, she kept bringing up how happy it would make her brother if I was there.

But I couldn't go. I couldn't bring myself to go shopping in a mall, full of people on Marie's birthday. I wanted to just be by myself for the day. Make breakfast, go to the pond near my house. Reflect on the last four years since Marie died and mourn my best friend. I wonder if people in similar situations mourn the death of someone by suicide like i do. There is something so incomplete about Marie's life. There is still this huge chunk about her that I will never be able to understand or reconcile. The person I thought I knew did something that has caused a huge ripple effect and I still, four years later, am trying to make sense of the tragedy.

I guess what no one understands is that Marie is not the only person who died that day. She is not the only one who was lost. On her birthday and death day especially I find myself mourning the girl I was before this happened. I wonder who she would be if things had turned out differently. I don't miss that girl nearly as much as I miss Marie but I do  miss her. I do wonder about her from time to time.

Sunday marks four years since Marie took her life. I vaguely remember being stirred awake from a nap that day because my phone kept ringing. I remember how freaking annoyed i was that someone, presumably my job, was calling me on my day off. I remember not recognizing the number but I picked up the phone any way because I recognized the area code. And I remember the sound of her mom on the other line, telling me something really really bad had happened. She sounded so calm initially. "Hey, is this Beckett. It's Marie's Mom. It's bad, Sweetie..." and there is chaos. There is crying and sobbing on the other end of the line. There are hot tears and crying on my end. I may have screamed into my pillow. I may dropped my phone several times. I remember how utterly devastated she sounded on the other end. How her words sort of just blended together. Marie is dead. She killed herself. "I just want my baby girl back!" is the last thing I remember her saying before i went into shock.

And that, that moment,  was when my life changed forever. That was the moment that I lost my best friend but it is also the moment whatever person i was supposed to be and whatever life I was supposed to live with Marie in it, died as well.

I have never admitted to this. To anyone. But I a part of me died that day too. I think I died too.

Ryan's birthday is this Sunday and Kat has asked me to go out with them all and celebrate. I do not want to do this. I have no interest in being overly social that day. And this isn't because I want or plan on  sulking at home. I just want to spend the day by myself. I want these two days however tragic they are to be mine and mine alone. If I choose to share it with people, I want it to be on my terms doing something I would like to do to remember both people I lost that day.

And this year, I just want to take in the solidarity of this epic loss. I want to honor Marie's life. I want to mourn her. I want to mourn the girl I was. I want to be selfish and not cater to the wants of anyone else. Just for once, ya know.Just once.

The Passenger

A few weeks ago I told Kat that I was thinking about buying a car...because you know, I'm an adult and stuff, and should have some wheels by now. Kidding, I am far from an adult but transportation is a nightmare and after a year of being a bus rider, train hopper and cab grabber, I am simply over being dependent on public transport. However grateful I am for it being available in my area.

Before I moved to my now adorable and great town, i walked everywhere in favor of the bus. I like walking and living within distance of both the bookstore job and the university made life very easy. Whenever i did need to go anywhere outside of walking distance, I could bum a ride off of Kat.

But things are hella different since moving. I live an hour away from my new job and though my town is quaint and adorable, i often have to travel for entertainment and shopping. I don't so much mind the latter of these traveling woes. I'm a homebody and I tend to spend my weekends indoors or in town anyway.

 But commuting from work...that's another issue.  When I worked at the university commuting  was doable because I could take the school's free shuttle. During the winter this was a life saver. It snowed so much last year that i would have been trapped were it not for this shuttle. On the days where i missed work late at the bookstore, I could easily grab the bus or train and head home. But my new job is a little farther away. Not Manhattan far by any means but definitely a tougher commute.

It takes me twice as long to get to work and I have to take two buses instead of one.  If one bus is late, I miss my connection and have to wait 15 minutes to catch the next one. I spend the bulk of my commute lightly jogging from one stop to another or cursing under my breath because the bus is late...again. I get up extra early so I can make it to work on time and I have to leave my job 15 minutes early in order to make my bus home...a bus that is often late and/or overcrowded.

I've been doing this commute for 9 months and to say i am tired would be an understatement. A few weeks ago, I saw a cockroach on the bus, walking around like he owned the damn place and I knew it was a sign that it was time to move on from the commuter life. I ran the idea by my mom who was completely on-board with me getting a car and I've been doing my research ever since. I know that I do not want to lease a car, i know that i want something compact, I know that i don't want my monthly payments to be astronomical. I know that i want a car by the end of the year. A nice Xmas present to myself.

The idea of having a car has made me quite happy the last few weeks. As someone who has never owned a car (i do not count my high school car which I could only use to drive from my house to school) there is something magical about my impending independence .  I dream of the  freedom that will come with wheels. I dream of the mini adventures i could take. I imagine not feeling so trapped or restricted to my town and being dependent on people around me for rides. I also know I will dread traffic and check-ups and driving on the highway, but i don't let those fears outweigh the sheer relief I will feel once I have a car.

 Lately I feel as if most of my social life is spent catering to what everyone around me wants to do and a lot of this has to do with the fact that I am constantly the passenger. And being a passenger has it's limitations. Before I left for Thanksgiving break, I told Kat my wondrous plan because she is my best friend and I like sharing stuff with her...even my aspirations. But i've noticed recently that when I tell Kat something she too then wants to do the same thing. When i moved to my new adorable town, she started looking for apartments with her boyfriend in my neighborhood...because i found such a great deal so she could too!When I told her my mom and I were going to Washington D.C on vacation, Kat booked a trip to D.C as well a few weeks later.

My mom says Kat's tendency to 'follow my lead' is flattering because she must, in some way, see me as an example of a person who gets shit done. Kat has spent most of her life depending on others to do things for her, and seems intrigued by the fact that I depend on very little people but i still manage to get things done when i put my mind to it. So when she mirrors things that i do, or wants to follow my lead...I am a little bit flattered cause I am literally figuring shit out as it happens. BUT sometimes I am also frustrated by this aspect of our friendship because setting the trail is a lot harder than following one.

So needless to say when I arrived home from Thanksgiving break I was a little peeved to get a text from Kat letting me know that she decided to take my lead again and get..a brand new car. "you made it seem so easy" "you're right it's like the perfect time" "and this would be the perfect way to end the year" "i've never really had anything my own so I agree this would be like the best investment". My heart sank. While I am happy for her, this was supposed to be my big thing. This was the plan I had for myself and my end of the year and now it feels taken from me. Upstaged. The person following my lead has used my trail as a shortcut and I am very very very frustrated at the moment because with her nothing ever feels like my own.

She got her new 2016 Subaru Hatchback yesterday and has been texting me like crazy about it. I am trying not to let it get to me but it is. It has. Especially as I get ready for my hour long commute. The only upside is that her old car is currently being unused, and I am hoping she'll let me buy it from her (on the cheap side since I am her best friend) so I have something to drive. It's an old Volvo but seriously they have been my dream car since  i was a teen and i could save a lot of money not having to finance something new. I'll have to wait and see though and honestly the thought of having a hand me down car from the person I 'inspired' to get a car bothers me more than i'd like to admit.

Everything Will Be Okay

I tried to have a good weekend. I tried not to let Marie's birthday get to me. But there is something profound about this being her 30th birthday. The big 3-0 and her not being here to celebrate it. I was besides myself the whole weekend adding up and subtracting this number. I can vaguely remember conversations with her about who we wanted to be at 30. Where we wanted to visit in our 30's. The things we were going to accomplish together and separately. So admittedly however strong I wanted to be this weekend, I was a blubbering sad mess of a person. We never became those people together.

I miss my best friend. I miss her to the moon and back. And while things in my life are good and simple and nice, I don't think there is enough time in the world to heal the kind of pain that goes into missing someone. I just don't think that there is. 

Nevertheless, I tried to be semi productive the days leading up to her birthday. I helped my aunt decorate her apartment for Christmas, I went to the movies with Kat, spent most of Saturday wrapping presents to put under my tree. This year I decided to do the bulk of my holiday shopping online, which is the best thing ever, and as of today I have purchased all the gifts for the people in my life. Last year I was so poor, I was only able to give an "I.O.U" as a gift, so this year I overcompensated and bought a crap-load of gifts for my mom, kat and my nephew.

 Last week all my online gifts arrived at once and I walked into a hallway littered with presents. It was pre-Christmas joy seeing all those boxes in front of me, which was immediately replaced with terror at the though of having to wrap everything. So, I waited until Saturday afternoon to wrap everything and there was something soothing about the task of cutting paper, folding creases, tapping, and topping each present with a bow.  

Of course once Saturday night came to a close, Marie and her birthday were front and center in my thoughts. How has she been gone for four years? Four whole years. Year that have been equal parts terrible and terrific. How have I gone this long without hearing her voice. How have I gone this long without seeing her face. How has life, just continued to evolve without her. I do not understand this. I cannot understand this, and yet here I am four years later...without her.

I had tentative plans to hang out with Kat and her brother on Sunday. They wanted to head to the mall and buy presents and grab food and have a good time. While I wanted to join them, I felt guilty for even entertaining the idea. If I can be honest, I feel guilty all the time when I think about Marie these days.  I feel guilty for surviving. I feel guilty for my happy days. I feel guilty for having to still be a person despite her loss. 

There was a time when I didn't think I could live without her. The days after she died, I was almost sure of it. But now, now, I feel the weight of being the one left behind, and I feel guilty for having to move on and create a life without her. Because that is what is happening. Life continues to go on. I continue to grow and live and attempt to plant roots...without the one person I thought would, in some way, shape or form be a part of it. And every day, month, year that passes without her feels like a betrayal. Like i am losing her all over again, as I get closer to a more healthier and stable me.

 Marie's Birthday is Sunday.

Sunday.  December 6th.

It would have been her 30th year.

I am not sure how four years have come and gone without her.

Just needed somewhere to share this.

Home

I'm just going to ignore the fact that after a week in South Carolina with my family for Thanksgiving , I have to return to work on Monday morning and face the drudgery that is office life.

My visit was unsurprisingly awesome and as I only venture home once a year, i tried to soak up as much family time as I could.

Nonetheless, after 6 days of laughing and eating and entertaining my four year old nephew, I was very excited to return to my New York and my little haven. I can't explain how weird it is to return home to South Carolina and realize that that place is not really my home anymore. It is a place where my mom and brother and nephew live, it is a place full of distorted memories and nostalgic artifacts but it is not fully home anymore.  

My family drove me to the airport and there were emotional goodbyes and long hugs but I think on both of our parts there was also a sense of  relief with Thanksgiving being over so that we could all return to our routines and way of living that we've grown accustomed too. 

And maybe this has nothing to do with South Carolina, or my mom or my brother. Maybe this disconnect has more to do with the fact I am creating a life for myself in New York that is vastly different and all of my own. I walked into my place today and just sort of sat there for a minute, among the Christmas decor I put up before I left and felt...i don't know..happy/content/ to be home. In this small little apartment, in this small little town. I felt content and at peace. 

Sure, things definitely aren't perfect in my life but they are good. My life feels good and there is something confronting in that. 

Happenings.

I will admit that for the unforeseeable future postings will be very sporadic.

It seems the more I tell myself I am going to document things, the less motivated I am to sit down and actually replay my days and experiences in written form. I don't really know how to explain it. A part of it has to do with writing itself which has become an uncomfortable and anxious thing for me. I continue to change and grow everyday and in doing so my voice as a 'writer' has adapted.

I am often struck by how different I sound and look on paper. I don't know who this voice is that wants to write about my life but she is unrecognizable to me, especially as I struggle in many ways to figure out my life.

 Additionally, the nature of blogging has changed. I recognize that it's probably just the ebb and flow of how and what we share nowadays. When I first started journaling, I was a sophomore in college and based on earlier posts, could crank out about 20-30 entries a month. Now I can barely crank out that many posts a year.

Looking back I am not sure how I was able to post as much as i did! I definitely went to class, I definitely attempted to be a person (from time to time) but seriously I am not sure how I managed to write as much. Where the hell did i get all that free time.

 Anyway, things (me) have changed so much in 10 years that writing has unfortunately taken a back seat as has maintaining this blog.Obviously for reasons of vanity and nostalgia, I will continue to blog and write about myself as much as possible but for the time being I've decided to do so in a much smaller capacity, to take the pressure off of myself honestly. Because the transition often feels like pressure.

As far as updates go, things have been pretty okay in Beckett-land. As well as things can be. Work continues to suck my soul and I am pretty miserable with office-life. Since the fallout with Patricia, I have become public enemy #1. Not with everyone in the office but definitely among her small clique. I feel like there is a scarlet letter on my head. It seems so silly that the two of us cannot resolve our hatred of one other (Because we do hate each. I know this much). Especially since it all started over a man, acting like a perverted and hard up teenager with blue balls.

 Since July we haven't said much to one another. There was an attempt at a small truce after her boyfriend (unfortunately my now ex friend) sent me an email begging me to make things right between us (because of course, I was the one who had to fix things. you know, not the person who messed it all up in the first place). For the sake of my friendship with her boyfriend, I attempted to make amends. I went out of my way to conduct small talk, I comforted her when her grandma passed away this summer, I even bought a sympathy card for the whole office to sign.

 Even after all of this, Patricia still remained pretty unpleasant to be around. She'd have moments of civility followed by outright hostility towards me. She went out of her way to point out my mistakes to everyone in the office (mistakes which only occurred because she didn't train me well) and often tried to show dominance over me as if we were in a competition. It was bizarre, nasty and unnecessary.

The final straw came when she blamed me for something she messed up on and of course because it is Patricia she did this loudly and in front of a bunch of people. After that day, I decided that my friendship with her boyfriend was not worth saving if it meant i'd have to put up with the weird abuse from his girl at work. Patricia is just a straight up dick and the only reason any one of our mutual friends tolerated her was because of her boyfriend. She's boring and has stank face and now having worked with her I can also add asshole to her list of attributes. She bullied and was antagonistic towards me only for the sake of being an awful human being.

 Naturally, we haven't talked in months but she continues to passive aggressively throw jabs at me on a weekly basis. While the job itself can be mind numbly boring and soul sucking, it's been made worse because Patricia and CreepyGuy (who either ignores me completely or goes out of his way to let me know that he is ignoring me) have made me a pariah. I am not allowed to go to lunch the same time everyone else does and my cubicle is so far from the others that I feel like I have been sent off to an island where I must fend for myself. Which is exactly what I've been doing the last couple of months. It's sort of depressing.

 I am trying to combat this crushing wave of disappointment at work by surrounding my life outside of my 9-5 with good energy and good people. The good energy aspect is very easy to do. While my eating habits are still poor and my bones are starting to ache in weird places, mentally and emotionally I am generally happy these days. My mom came to visit this summer and helped me deck out my small but adorable studio. Outside of my mom's place my current place is hands down the homiest home I have ever lived. It is a comfort and delight to wake up everyday in this place that I have made an oasis from the world.

 When I am not a work, I spend my days reading and dancing and buying a lot of clothes. My town is adorable, so I tend to spend a bulk of my time walking around and taking photos and just enjoying my simple but good life.

 Kat and I are still the best of best friends. We talk everyday, and hang out every Friday to catch up on life and watch Netflix. She continually supports me and encourages me to be the best version of myself. While I adore the shit out of the girl. our closeness can sometimes feel very isolating. After a horrible falling out with my friend Heather (who was having a bad day and decided to talk shit about me and my family) during an outing to grab coffee, i realized that Kat is really the only friend I have these days. I mean I have people I text, I have a lot of causal friends. I know that I am not alone, but Kat who i see on a regular basis and hang out with.

 There are days when this bothers me. The feeling of being alone. I feel like I am not connecting with anyone. I miss having a cushion of friends, multiple people, I could go to for support and companionship. The list has slowly dwindled this year and I am almost in no contact with people who once meant the world to me. Grant it , some of these people provided  temporary happiness but I still miss it.

My attempts at trying to curb this loneliness has fallen pretty short honestly. Meeting people has always been hard for me and now more than ever ways of meeting people is very limited. I want friends, but where the hell am I supposed to meet them. Work would appear like the prime location to befriend like minded people but i seriously loathed everyone I work with. The few times they have all gone out for drinks after work I have made up some excuse why I can't attend. If i barely talk to them at work, where i am at least paid to feign interest, why would i go out to a bar where not only am I surrounded by the same people but i am not getting paid for my time!

 I've been thinking about taking a course or joining some sort of group where interactions are mandatory. But so far all i want to do is play the drums or learn how to dance.

 I don't even want to get started on how hard it is trying to meet a cutie. I am not handling the idea of online dating very well. A part of me understands it but the other part of me overrides the logistics and wishes I could just meet someone organically. I am wondering why my life can't just be a romantic comedy, do people still meet each other in the aisles of bookstore and supermarkets? Cause that's what i'd prefer to be honest.I'd prefer to meet the guy of my temporary dreams in the aisle of my local supermarket buying a handful of Pillsbury dough for the amazing pumpkin rolls i recently learned how to make. But that has yet to happen.

 Despite all of this, I am pretty optimistic about the next few months. During the holidays, I am going to start filling out applications again particularity at some local colleges so I can put an end to the misery that is my current employment situation. Were it not for the holidays coming up I would have started this job search earlier. But realistically, I want to enjoy my first real retail free holiday and I am not going to find anything outside of  nonseasonal come November/December. I also have made some tentative plans at social gatherings where I am bound to meet people with similar interest. I saw tentative because said gatherings could involve me attending solo but if i don't put myself out there I am going to get the same damn dismal results,

 Change is slow but inevitable and the changes in my life may seem small and insignificant at the moment but I feel like i am heading in a really good direction, you know. Like whatever I have started building for myself is just the foundation for the life I want to lead.

Ramblings.

I typically spend Sunday nights worried that i am not doing much with my life. things are great. I am good, okay and for the most part happy. But after cancelling plans with Kat on Friday because I wasn't feeling well (long story) I realize that I do not have much of  a social life outside of her. I don't really have much of a life at all outside of work and her. I spent the whole weekend under the covers, watching netflix and reading books. While it was a very peaceful and relaxing weekend, i recognize that it is something I do often, and I worry that I am shut out from the outside world and connections. And this definitely weighs heavy on Sunday nights as I prepare for another long and dreadful work week. I am 29 years old and I literally have no idea what the hell i am doing with my life and I prettified that I am missing out or have missed out on things and people and experiences.

Adulting

This being an adult thing is the pits. The absolute pits and if there were a way to resign from the adult world, I would gladly put in my two weeks and just, you know, live off the grid for awhile (if it didn't arise crippling anxiety in my chest, which it does naturally).

Lyle, my only real friend at work, left the company a few months ago to move in with his girlfriend and work in Brooklyn. To be honest his leaving has not bothered me that much in the grand scheme of things. Despite our office friendship, he was disliked by everyone in the office (which initially drew me to him) but he also we a terrible employee and honestly was going to be fired pretty soon.

I must reiterate that I adore him as a nerdy, interesting, thoughtful companion... but he was not at all a good or attentive employee.  He was socially awkward and had a very condescending and curt way of speaking to everyone. When he wasn't talking down to people, he was boosting about his life; mainly his girlfriend who he met on the interwebs. Most of our lunch hour consisted of him talking about her, in a way that i know all to well, like she wasn't a real person but an idea of a person. If it weren't for the pictures of her he wanted to share or the text messages he wanted me to look at, I honestly would have thought he made her up to make himself look more interesting and fulfilled.

He meant well though, personally and professionally,  and when he wasn't boosting or educating everyone on everything, he was the one person who made work bearable, even if it was a marginal bearable-ness. Especially during lunch, as he was the only person I was "allowed" to eat with. And now that he is gone my displeasure with this place continues to grow like an ache on an old bruise. 

I hate sounding ungrateful about my job and working because despite my complaints I am more than grateful for finally making money and struggling less. Around the same time this year I was poorer than I've ever been, seriously depressed and stressed out about the Ashat and his Ashat ways. On top of that my landlord decided to up and sell her house giving me less than a months notice to find a new place to live. I felt like everything was crumbling around me. My life resembled a house of cards tumbling down, all at once, as if I'd leaned in to close.

So trust me, ungrateful I am not, but it doesn't mean I don't wonder from time to time if I am doing this "adulting" thing right because i am so unfulfilled by things. A lot of it is work related (the other is relationship related, which i'll try to open up more about) because I do not feel like anyone respects me here or what I do but I am expected to excel at my job because I do it well.

Because despite everything...I freaking excel at my job. There is no doubt about that. Apparently we are given raises every 3 months and my boss pulled me into his office a few weeks over to go over my work performance and to let me know if I was getting this 3 month raise.

My boss sort of terrifies me. He is this slight older man with a limp and a soft voice who started this company 5 years ago. His wife, two sons and nephew are all employed here and you can tell the failure or success of his company rest on all of us. Because I was hired as Patricia's (still a bitch) replacement the first couple of weeks were hard because he kept comparing us. I'd get something wrong and he would throw a mini tantrum "i don't understand why this is so difficult" despite the fact that I was practically learning things by myself because Patricia (still a bitch) was a terrible teacher.

After a few weeks, I think I earned my boss's confidence that I could bring something to the job that Patricia (still a bitch) couldn't..likability with clients, and he backed off and let me do my job sans looming and criticizing.

He seemed to agree, non-verbally, that I was far exceeding his expectations by giving me a raise at the end of the summer. It was a small but significant encouragement which I readily accepted. But just last week I was due for my second performance review and this time I was called into his office so we could go over stuff. He started off by telling me I was definitely going to get a raise and that he thought I was doing a really good job. I was kind of taken aback because my boss doesn't talk to me but rather at me. It can be a little annoying and patronizing. Though Patricia (still a bitch) and I have pretty much discontinued speaking to one another at work and our job responsibilities are vastly different, I get this sense from my boss that he thinks I am still not as great as Patricia (still a bitch).

So despite telling me about my additional raise, I thought his reasoning for wanting to talk in person was for him to compare me to Patricia(still a bitch). And there is no one in the world I'd want to be compared to less at the moment. Instead my boss wanted to go over my 'reliability' a word i am still very confused about. I am a pretty reliable person. I mean, I think I am. I did take off some days this summer to accommodate my moms visit and i did call out once to get my hair did---I mean because I was sick. I have only been late once, because my bus was stuck in traffic.

While I do believe I am a reliable employee, I will admit that I have taken a few liberties from time to time because I do not always feel appreciated here.A major issue, one that Patricia (still a bitch) has initiated more than once, is that when something goes wrong I am blamed. One of the last straws for me with Patricia (still a bitch) was back in July. We were supposed to translate a clients website into another language but this was missed during production. While I am not a part of the production team, Patrica(still a bitch) starts getting at me about failing to catch this small detail. In front of everyone she starts lamenting in her Aunt Sue Ellen, big shoulder, ugly green blazer, how I should have caught this mistake because I enter in the contracts that specifies if a client wants their site translated in another language. This, despite the fact that I enter contracts with products only once, am not building the site (she built the site and had full knowledge that it needed to be translated) and am also not the one who sends out the request for the material to be translated.

But she kept going on about it, as if to make a point that she was better at my job. That if i paid more attention, this would not have fallen through the cracks. And of course once she started in on me, everyone who was at real fault came at me as well...like a pack of wolves. I was defiant and annoyed and snippet at the whole ordeal. I realized quickly  that she was a dick, an irredeemable dick that I would never talk to her again. I also realized that no one takes what i do here seriously because i just answer the phones, and interact with clients everyday. Even outside of that scenario I often feel talked down to or worse not part of this company.

And I know this has more to do with the fact that I am the one who forwards calls and emails from clients who wish to complain. I am the gatekeeper to bad news which easily in some way makes me a person people don't wish to hear from.

Because of this my level of giving a damn has quickly diminished. I still do my work and do it well, but i recognize that this too is just the waiting place between being able to support myself and finding a career. It's just that simple.

My boss however has other plans. After he tells me he wants to go over my reliability he states that I have become a huge asset to the company. Not only that but that he thinks that if I am committed enough I can have a really good and long career here...FOREVER.

Okay, he didn't say forever but he was implying it  And as this implication was being presented before me, I must admit that I was filled with dread. Dread. I'm at an awesome place in my life where I really don't know what I want to do, who i want to be, or even where I see myself in a few years but as sure as hell know what I don't like, what i won't put up with and who i ain't. And honestly I have no intention of making a career for myself here and I am mortified at the thought of this being a peak for me career wise. If this was it. 

Of course, I didn't say any of this to my boss. I like my paychecks and being able to afford things for once. But I know deep down where I think thoughts that do not make it's way to the surface often, I cannot envision a future where I am sitting at this cubicle, taking calls from clients who treat me with more respect than my employees. I can't. I won't. 

But I recognize that knowing what I do not want from this place only means that I need or will need a plan b. I will at some point have to figure out what the hell I want to do or can endure which make me sort of anxious cause I know how long it took me just to get to this place.

This work week is hitting me hard and I am counting down the days until Labor Day weekend.

Looking at photos from my vacation is helping a little but I could seriously use another vacation asap.

'Summering'

Summers been keeping me busy (and away from journaling) and I am sort of ready for the cliche of Fall and the slowness of the season to return.

 I have always had this sort of love/hate relationship with summer. Obviously when I was in school, summer represented freedom and the opportunity to read and write as much as I wanted too. I liked learning and being in school but I loved having 3 months away to do my own thing which often consisted of binge watching tv. I loved waking up later and staying up even later. I loved bike rides and summer foods. But that was/is sort of where the love began and end for me. I have never enjoyed summer heat and worse summer crowds. I am not someone who is always comfortable in my skin and dressing for summer weather is a struggle. Not only that but the things that to tend to epitomize summer exhaust and overwhelm me.

Generally, I am not a person who 'summers' well. I'd rather spend a hot summer day at home, under blankets, reading a book than outside interacting with the world. Generally... This summer however, I seem to have found the balance between my introverted ways with the enjoyment of summer activities. There has been an abundance of bike riding, movie watching, summer food eating, and exploration in between hibernating, book reading, Netflix watching and naps. lots of naps. I also discovered that I love sitting in the sun. Just sitting: nothing less nothing more. On my lunch breaks especially now since my work friend Lyle put in his two weeks a month ago ( a long hilarious story, i'll have to write about), I spend lunch breaks by myself, because I am still quite the pariah in my office, just sitting in the sun. The weather has been so nice the last few days that for 45 minutes a day I sit outside on the patio, eyes closed, face turned upwards while the sun hits my skin. It's a nice and comforting feeling that I will miss once summer comes to a close. I will miss the warmth despite the fact that I am very eager about fall and autumn happenings.

 I was so convinced that summer would be ruined because of memories of ashat that I was hesitant and almost reluctant to participate or enjoy any part of it. My logic does not always make sense as I am always thinking and over analyzing and wanting to be two steps ahead of disaster. But on ashats birthday, after weeks of convincing myself that I would not be able to handle the day or memory of him, I was struck by how normal the day was. Outside of the emergency 'are you going to be okay' text from Kat, the actual day was not too bad and my thoughts were so far removed from him that i feel like I am finally moving past him, us and whatever we had (though he does and will creep up in my writing a lot) It's not as soul crushing and heart breaking as I expected.

I was so convinced that no not knowing him would be almost as painful as being in love with him when he was so easily not interested or capable of loving me. I found out recently that he may have actual gotten married to eggplant head before her birthday (you know, because she had a eye tumor and he wanted her to have insurance because she was near death and all...le sigh, how and why did I fall for this boy) and while the news was shocking, it wasn't crushing. Nothing about my life after ashat has been crushing. Instead it is the opposite. I am comforted and relieved that he's just not a part of the life I am creating for myself and there is something liberating and enjoyable about this. 

Nothing has been more evident of this than the ease and enjoyment of summer this year. I've gone to ballets, Broadway shows, parks and seen a lot of bad movies in theaters. Kat introduced the wonderful world of podcasts and I am toying with the idea of starting my own, just for the hell of it. I went to a theme park this summer and several bbq's and of course I sat in the sun a lot, during the week and especially on the weekends.

The pinnacle of summer was my mom coming into town for 9 days to help me decorate my apartment. While the move has turned out to be one of the best forced decisions of my life, the stress of the predicament made adjusting a little difficult.I have done a pretty good, and quick, job decorating and making the place feel like home but I think my mom wanted to give my home her blessing and seal of approval. And while her last visit to New York was not that great this one was pretty successful. She bought me a crap load of decorative things and we even went to D.C for two days, because why not. For once I could finally afford to a mini vacation and my mom has always wanted to go to Washington D.C.

 It's sort of weird being in a position both financially and personally to take care of my mother a little bit. I mean, I am still pretty broke as hell but for the most part I was able to plan this trip to D.C and cover half of the expenses. I planned everything from the train ride down to the hotel we ended up staying in and my mom was relieved that she did not have to be the adult for once and make decisions because all of a sudden I was capable of taking charge of things.

 The trip to D.C was pretty good, save for the mistake I made of inviting my freeloading aunt (my mom's younger sister) along with us. This is the same aunt who i lived with when I first moved to New York before she kicked me out of her apartment because...I don't really know. After a year of living with her, she phoned my mom one afternoon and asked her when I was moving out of her place because I was taking up too much space or what not, despite the fact that i was never really home. Our relationship has always been a little weird. Growing up she was the fun cool aunt who loved to go shopping and do other girly things that I had no interest in. So when she was stuck babysitting me or forced to interact with me, she would criticize my un-girly ways. Our adult relationship is very similar.

  Living with her was a completed and utter nightmare and moving out probably saved me from despising her. Outside of my dad, who i don't see that often, she is the only relative I have in New York and for the sake of my baby cousin, I put the terror of living with her behind me because she's family. But during the planning of this trip to D.C she never once mentioned paying for anything: hotel, transportation, food. My mom and I joked, based on knowing her, that she wouldn't chip in one bit and that we were essentially giving her and my baby cousin a free all expenses paid trip to D.C. And of course this is exactly what ended up happening. She did not offer to help pay for the hotel, transportation, food or any other miscellaneous expense. But that wasn't the worst part. For someone who did not chip in at all she was very adamant that she did not want to see any of the historical sights and instead wanted to hit up Walmart and Target.

To say i was livid would be an understatement. I spent all this money and time planning a trip for me and mom, asked her and my cousin to come along as an afterthought and she had the nerve to complain about everything. I keep my composure up until the moment I said I wanted to visit the Library of Congress (because I've heard it's beautiful, and there are so many books and snerk gerks it's a LIBRARY) and my aunt replied "i am not going to a library while we were in D.C. Who wants to spend a place that stocks books".

 There were no words. Absolutely no words. I was so mad, the only thing I could do was walk away. I ended up spending the afternoon by myself in D.C. for fear that I would punch my aunt in the throat if she said anything else. I have never throat punched anyone but she was a prime contender that afternoon.

 The rest of my moms trip ended up being really fun and eventful. We returned to my apartment on Saturday and spent the rest of the weekend (and her stay) decorating and drinking wine (I am not sure when my mom became such a heavy wine drinker but she hooked me up with a shit load of wine!). It was fun having her in town. She was lively and well spirited. I was relaxed and even tempered. I like living alone. I like my space and escape from the world. But having my mom here made me miss the simple everyday of companionship. I liked having someone at home waiting for me. I miss telling someone about my day. It is something I miss far more than I would like to admit. And while I am sure adopting a cat would cure some of my loneliness and desire for companionship, I am wise enough to realize that too may not be enough (even though, I would really really like a pet. I am just not sure if my landlord allows pets though).

 It makes me anxious that I am going to have to put myself out there soon if I want any shot at a real relationship. I am not one who likes to put much of an effort into anything when it comes to socialization. I want to just skip this middle part of yearning and just get to the part where I have a handful of good friends and a cute boy to come home too every night. A cute nice boy, in my cute nice apartment with our adorable cats. I can dream can't I and Fall is such a magical season, I am hopeful that these things are on the horizon. Anyway, back to work. I seriously spend more time trying to look busy than actually being busy. I don't know how much more of this "9-5" life I can tolerate. More on that later.

Ennui

Today I sat through 5 different meetings at work. I wish this was an exaggeration. 

Every week we seem to come up with another reason why we need to have a meeting regarding previous meetings....and it is driving me nuts. 

Today was a little different only because 2 out of the 5 meetings were to go over office policies and such but that did not stop me from zoning out. 

Following the meetings, we then got a mass office email asking everyone to meet in the conference room at 4:30 to partake in another 'birthday cake-awkward singing-followed by awkward returning to our cubicles to avoid conversing with co-workers' celebration.

I casually ducked out of the office at 4:29 to answer a phone call and spent 15 minutes hiding on another floor until I was certain the 'celebrating was over'. Luckily no one noticed (or didn't care) that  I was MIA for the celebration and I was relieved not to have to make up some lie about where i was. 

I hate that I hate my job but not for reasons that have to do with my actual responsibilities there. I hate that this gig turned out to be just a place I go to for 8 hours a day to make money and not a place where I am doing something I love with people I like being around. 

July is tough month for a billion and one reasons (most of it having to do with memories of ashat) and I feel crankier, grumpier and sort of in the dumps lately. I made the stupid mistake of unblocking him for a few days on facebook because I thought I could easily resist the urge to go to his page. My will lasted all but 10 seconds and I found out he is now stationed in Japan, probably living it up while I sulk and still think about him more than I should. 

As someone who is always giving advice, I find myself telling my friends more often than not that they can't spend their life measuring their achievements and experiences to someone else's. This is hard to do of course when social media makes it seem as if every one is progressing at a faster rate. If you aren't getting engaged, moving in with your significant others, returning to college for another degree, landing a new job, traveling the world or having a baby the constant reminders that everyone around you is...can be depressing. 

I rarely get jealousy of the monumental life events of others. Generally I  tend to a) be happy for someone who expresses the good fortune in their life (or just uninterested enough to care )and I am unabashedly proud of every small or big achievement in my own life. Like today I was able to find socks that matched. That shit is huge! I was so freaking happy, I wish I could have announced it to the whole world. Instead I just walked around all day knowing if I took my shoes off, i'd for once, have socks that matched. 

The only time I fail to follow my own advice (of not being a hater) is when it comes to ashat. He has made me so miserable these last few years, that the thought that he now has this exciting new life sans me depresses the shit out of me. In my black and white thinking, he so easily gets to move on and start over and experience new and tremendous things while I sit here at home on a Monday night, drinking apple cider sulking about my shit job, my lack of a social life, and my feelings of ennui. 

And this isn't to say I don't want him to have a good and kind life. Surprisingly, despite everything, I do not wish misery on him. But I am not going to lie, when I saw his announcement on facebook that he was now stationed in Japan I was filled with anger, jealousy, rage and resentment. It was stupid punch in the gut in some weird way, like how the hell do you get to live this amazing life, when you are such a shitty person, when you have caused so much pain. How do you get to just continue on without any sense of guilt, while I hold on to everything like it's my curse. 

I quickly blocked him again and sure as hell will not let curiosity get the best of me for a very long time. But I suspect this month will continue to be hard regardless (his birthday is just around the corner, I might literally spend all day under the covers) but I can't stew in this funk for too long. 

I tried OK Cupid for a hot second and realized quickly that I am somehow not made for the world of online dating.

But i want and miss companionship I just wish it were a little more personal and organic than reading through profiles and getting a ton of 'wanna hook up" conversation starters.

I think I would like to be courted. I'd like to be approached in a bookstore or a supermarket or even a chill bar by someone who notices me in passing and is compelled to say hello and engage in small talk.

I have had a few of these interactions and they have all been great and interesting but do to the abruptness of it nothing ever pans out much further than that. I am charmed, I believe said person is charmed but when it's time for us to part there is never an exchange of numbers or 'if you're ever free".

That approach is a little more difficult and risky.

Sometimes though, I wish I could just skip to something comfortable and nice with a boy that I deeply a fan of. Sean wasn't shit but he did provide companionship from time to time and now i finally feel ready for an actual, not fucked up, so cute it hurts, complicated but bearable companionship.

I am just not sure where or how to go about this dating world that is much too complex and impersonal for me.

Happy Pride 2015

Such an amazing day. Surrounded by amazing people. In an amazing city. Celebrating an amazing time in our country. I couldn't be happier. 

That is not me in the Photograph

I repeat. This is not a photograph of me. I do not look anything like this (trust me) but I took a personal day off from work (cough, cough) to treat myself to a much needed hair cut (my hair is wild and shaggy these days) and I'm hoping my hairdresser can recreate this summer look. Look how pretty this girl, who is not me, looks. Look at her hair and beachy vibe...I want all of this today. 

So yea, I haven't really figured out how imma walk in to work tomorrow with a new refreshing look after taking a personal day but I don't really care. Work has been the pits this week and if I have to sit through another damn meeting where someone places blame and complains imma scream. 

Instead I am on the train to the city, book and phone in hand. I will get my hair done and explore city blocks and buy gelato. Those are my plans. Work will have to take a backseat :)

Working Stiff

As work takes up a bulk of my day and time, I feel very Bridget Jones Diary isque these days writing from my cubicle as I count down the hours until 6 (2 hours and 43 whole minutes) and document my semi-adult happenings. All I need now is a Darcy isque suitor and other such hilarity in the mix and my life would really feel like it was on track.

While my current situation borders on Bridget Jones territory it is also a mix of Mean Girls and Office Space. While I have endured much worse than office drudgery and bitchassness, the wear and tear is inevitable. This being the first real office gig I've had, I don't think i was prepared for the atmosphere that is birth from cubicles, weekly meetings, spreadsheets and annoying and mandatory cake and happy birthday sing-a-longs. Yes, happy effing birthday caroling... in the conference room.... every time someone's birthday comes around.

Last week, well past lunch and yet way before the end of the day, we were all uniformly called into the conference room where we were forced to gather around the table and sing happy birthday to another co-worker who's birthday was this week. While I love me some cake (i love me some cake) there is nothing more mortifying than singing happy birthday off key for a person you don't really know or care for. At the end of the awkward celebration crept back to our cubicles before having to actually engage in conversation.

It's brutal. I have never worked so hard for food in my life and I am embarrassed every time I am forced to participate.

I realize now that I may not be an office person, for obvious reasons, and while I am good at my job I do hope it is as temporary as one of those tattoo's you apply to your skin with warm water and a cloth. My fear is that like Le Sad Store temporary will turn into "how the hell have i been here for six years" when I barely see myself lasting a year.

The main issue i have with working in an office, or this office in particular, is that  I am so used to being a part of a team (albeit a dysfunctional one) that the separateness drives me crazy. Though we all work in the same space, mere inches away from each other, we are 'separated' by departments and entitlement. On a daily basis it is a whose penis is bigger competition and if i can be honest no one is packing heat. No one.

Just a few minutes ago a client called with a complaint. I put her on hold and tried to get her in touch with anyone in the office who could help her. Perhaps my mistake was saying "can anyone help [insert name here] she has a is having an issue with..." Immediately motherfuckers pretended like they didn't know what a phone was. There was a cacophony of "well i can't help her because it's not my job" "well it's not my job either" "have her speak to [insert name here]" "i don't wanna help her! have her call.." this went for longer than it should. Eventually I just took a message and apologized because someone would have to return her call.

Everyone was pleased that they passed the 'buck'..I instead seethed with frustration and agitation. I know work is not supposed to be fun, I know that for 8 hours a day I am required to put in as much effort so that it appears I am doing work (blogging has helped, as the sound of my typing makes it seem as if I am doing work). But I also know this there is something to account for working with people you actually enjoy seeing 40 hours a week. 40 hours is a lot of time! I spend more time with these people than I do my friends, family and possibly even netflix! And me and Netflix spend a lot of time together.

So when my work days are long and tedious, when my head feels like it being stepped on by a very adorable but heavy elephant it is not because what i do is terrible. It is who i work with that is. And the adjustment to this has not been easy. While Le Sad Store financially, emotionally and mentally was a trying and often difficulty place to work there are moments where I would trade the stability of this job and the dreaded isolation I feel from my co-workers to be back at Le Sad Store when things were okay and my nights were spent hanging out with my best friends. It was a very small window of okay times there but dammit they were good.

I am sure the atmosphere of retail, combined with the employees at Le Sad Store contributed to our work environment being unlike any other place I have worked. When it was good, the pieces just sort of fit together nicely. We were this perfect team of work productivity and friendship. I legitimately had a friendship, or at least kinship, with everyone I worked with there and I fear that is is something I will never have again.

This office gig is just a rather static space where a bunch of people who want/need money gather for 5 days a week for 8 hours a day. I can't tell you the number of days I have gone with out uttering an actual word to the person in the cubicle next to me. It's freaking weird. Just plain weird.

So having Patricia as a sort of built in friend was refreshing, especially since also worked at Le Sad Store (tho we didn't talk much the short time she worked there). So, while I do not mind that creepy guy is too scared to even look in my direction these days yet alone talk to me, the awkward tension between Patricia and I feels like a loss. Not a huge one, but an 8 hours a day, 5 days a week loss.

Lyle is the only one who has stood by my side like a trusted confidant and sidekick. And while there is something nice and confronting about his work companionship the complete and utter desertion from Patricia in favor of Shane is freaking unbelievable. Unbelievable. I feel like a contestant on Big Brother who has suddenly gone from having house allies to having none and the shift is strange for various reasons.

I can totally understand why Shane has stopped talking to me. I actually am grateful for his cold shoulder and distance. I'd rather be ignored than asked inappropriate questions. There is a reason his nickname is Creep Master Funk, he gave off this incredible vibe of being "frustrated" and I got this sense he thought I could relieve that tension. When I was the only other person, besides him staying till six on Fridays, I asked Kat to chill with me for an hour in the office so I would not have to be alone with him. Kat immediately picked up on Shane's creepiness and also said he gave off an incredibly disgusting vibe

I have always had this fear of not being believed. Like an overwhelming fear of it. I was never a girl who cried wolf because I saw what happened to that kid. The moment he needed everyone to take him seriously, people where unfazed by his cry for help and brushed him aside. They like were 'eff you kid, we don't believe you anymore. You are forever branded a liar".Ugh, worst nightmare ever. A small part of me has always been so honest because of this fear. When it comes to very practical elements of my life I am truthful and honest to a fault.Lying is akin to being untrustworthy and who the hell wants to be untrustworthy.

With Patricia suddenly giving me the cold shoulder and actual stank bitch face attitude, I can only conclude that she thinks I lied and made the whole thing up. She believes that Shane is not a creepy older horny guy who asked me inappropriate questions. She believes I exaggerated my discomfort level. She thinks I cried wolf, something I would not and have never done. The worst part is that she has shattered my belief that when it comes down to it, girls stick together. I mean aren't we supposed to?

I can't imagine me reacting the way she has. This is not to say I wanted her to take sides and choose me because eww how freaking disgusting is it of a male co-worker to be so creepy and brazen about it. I didn't expect her to stop talking to Shane because wtf married guy with a newborn baby what the hell are you doing. But I guess a part of me was hoping that would be the outcome cause maybe I did want to make a new friend and for the most part Patricia seemed like a good candidate. 

Pre Monday Blues and Anxiety

So things are definitely awkward between Shane, aka Creepy Guy, aka CreepMaster Funk, aka Eww Dude, and I and to be honest I care only enough to blog about it because as Sunday comes to a close I am already annoyed by the bullshit of a week I will have to endure because of this emasculated pervert.

I am much too old to deal with a dude who crossed the line.I am much to old to try and cater to hurt feelings. I know for a fact had I had to deal with this situation a couple of years ago I would feel responsible and guilty for Creepy Guys action. I would have placed blame on myself, for any number of reasons, as to why he crossed a boundary with me. I know that I probably would have let it go on rather than stop it cold. I know I would not have gone to Trish out of embarrassment and irrationality (why would anyone find me interesting enough to want be so suggestive) to discuss how uncomfortable he has made me feel. I would have endured alone and I have little to no doubt that something would have happened physically, emotionally and spiritually which would have immobilized me.

 At the ripe old age of 29 however, that shit will not and does not fly. It's weird getting older. It does get better, however cliche the statement is. Things eventually get better, even when it seems like they won't, they just do. I am still very much insecure and anxious and socially awkward. I still cannot make small talk to save my life and there is and always will be dancing in my pj's on Friday nights. Always. I still daydream and feel out of touch and obsess about Buffy. I am still the same person I was 10 years ago but instead of feeling weird about my idiosyncrasies, I've just learned to accept and embrace, accept and embrace, and what a difference this mantra has proven.

 Overnight I've grown a backbone or at least the lack of patience to put up with bs. It may be the only thing I can thank Sean for if I can be honest. I was dragged around for so long by the boy, that I know now how much of a waste that is and the toll that it takes on me. Now I am a champion of assertiveness. I try not to beat around bushes, I stray from pettiness, and I lay my cards on the table.   Passivity will never escape me fully, but I now  know which battles are worth fighting and which aren't. Creepy Guys creepiness is one of them.

 Obviously money was not the deciding factor when I took this job. While the pay is great, the job that was also offered to me at the same time  paid significantly more and would have saved me hours and money on commuting. I passed on it mainly because the office was tiny and I knew i'd be alone. Despite my anxiety, I really do like working with and around people, I like being part of a team (even a dysfunctional one) and I had this overwhelming sense that i'd be completely isolated working mere minutes from my house. Isolation for me is a good and bad thing. I like solidarity on my terms, I do not like it when it is routine.

So in a crazy move, I took the lesser paying job, in favor of working with people. And for the most part the decision has been a good and frustrating one. Positive: I am surrounded by people, am always busy and there is never a dull moment at my job. There's an older woman a cubicle away from me who has suddenly become my book sharing buddy. She reads all the bestsellers and new titles and has recently started letting me borrow them after she's finished. I think we have unintentionally started a book club here, though so far we are the only members. Working in customer service is oddly enough also a positive because I am also constantly interacting with people/clients albeit angry and hostile ones but my voice has a way of soothing people and so far there are worse things to do for a living.

Negative: For someone who has worked for both a corporation and University, the lack of policies at this place is killing me. This company has only been in business for six years and naturally lacks the business knowledge of what works well and what doesn't. I am all about efficiency and meeting deadlines and quotas. I am also all about work policies that everyone should abide by. I think tardiness needs to be reprimanded, I think goals have to be given, enforced and reached and I think failure to comply to this should be meet with some form of consequence. The fact that someone who is supposed to be in at  9am can stroll in at 10:30 and no one says anything is beyond frustrating. Yesterday the marketing team went to lunch for 2 hours. 2 whole hours and they only work half days on Friday. The owner of the company (who is often never there) rarely enforces the rules because he wants to be a chill boss and because of this people are taking advantage and work isn't getting done. This week our manager, the only enforcement we have, was out of town for vacation so the office was beyond chaotic. I know from experience that when things fall through the crack it's an avalanche rather than a small decline and I, surprisingly am the only person who is not okay with our everyday is casual Friday work ethic.

The biggest negative is Shane, whose hurt feeling and subsequent emasculation has resulted in a) me being banished from the lunch group and b) complete and utter silence from him as a result. It's beyond juvenile.

The short end of it is that the moment i started there he'd ask really weird and personal questions that I was uncomfortable with.I am not sure what his relationship is like Trish. but they are definitely close and make up a two person impenetrable team, and for some reason I think he got the impression that I too would form some weird office bond with him. Just not the friendship bond.

 It started with him asking me how many guys hit on me per day, if I had any tattoos on any part of my body that were not visible due to clothing, if my coffee breaks after work were actual lingo for 'sex', if i was into the whole 50 shades of grey phenom. It doesn't sound like much but coming from a guy i've known less than 3 months it was beyond uncomfortable and it only got worse.When I started becoming friends with Lyle, Shane started saying that Lyle and I were close because we were doing inappropriate stuff together.He asked about my tattoos again but this time asked if I had any on my breast. I called out of work a few weeks ago cause I caught the bug that was affecting us all in the office. I returned the next day but Lyle had just called out too because of sickness. During lunch that day Shane made a snide comment that Lyle must have caught his cold from me because we probably were passing 'fluids'.

 A week or two later Trish and I were talking about someone we used to work with at Le Sad Store. Said person wanted to have a mini Le Sad Store reunion but some how managed to not invite me. This same person also unfriended me a few months back and this recent diss seemed personal. As I was lamenting about her and the slight, Shane (out of nowhere) says 'did you steal her boyfriend or something".

 Now I know what you are thinking, cause I too have thought it. Shane's subtle, or not so subtle, suggestions about me being a harlot has made me question what Trish has told him about me, if anything. Because unless he is just an inappropriate dirty dude, I cannot for the life of me understand how or why he got that impression unless something was said to him in passing about me. And for obvious reasons, Trish definitely knows about the ashat and I. I mean I confessed everything to her bf who no doubt told her....but from what I know of her I can't imagine me or the ashat being a topic of discussion at lunch. The only other alternative is that creepy guy is just creepy and I am his new object of obsession.

He'd hover around my cubicle like a fly that I couldn't get rid of. He kept asking if we could hang out after work near my house. He never once talked about his wife or newborn baby but he would ask me what 'fun' i had planned on my weeknights. And while I'd hate to compare this to anyone who has actually experience sexual harassment at the work place, I will validate that Shane made me uncomfortable, his questions/remarks were inappropriate and I was beginning to feel unsafe around him.

Before I even went to Trish about my concerns, I stopped responding to Shane on all levels. Outside of a hi in the morning, I ignored his gchat invites, I stopped attending lunch everyday with them so as to avoid him, I made sure not to prolong conversations that could steer in the wrong direction and I refused to be alone with him...ever. I think he sensed my cold shoulder because instead of respecting my space he got more snippy and aggressive with me. Remind you he is not my boss, but he started nitpicking little things that made no sense. One time he offered to help me out with a project and then got annoyed that I asked him for help (which I did not do). He'd see Lyle and I talking in the kitchenette and make some comment about how close we are (grant it, Lyle and I are blooming work besties but that's it). On Fridays, everyone leaves early, but he said I can't. That I have to stay until 6pm and of course guess who stays with me...him.

 The kicker came when he told me I wasn't allowed to eat lunch with our lunch group anymore because he noticed that i only went to lunch with them 3 times out of the week instead of five and if that was the case I didn't need to eat with them anymore and would have to take my lunch at another time.

 Da Fuck.

Da fuckidy fuck.

When I was 17 or 18 years old my mom took my brother and I to visit our Great Aunt Tit. The name alone should give you some insight into her personality. She was this small, wiry, masculine, vivacious and haughty women with a raspy voice and hard lines. I think I fell in love with her as soon as I ascended the porch steps to her house. I, of course had bad hair, a sullen attitude was chubby and boyish and had no interest in being social with family members foreign to me. Aunt Tit caught on to this quickly and instead of letting me go inside with my brother to meet cousins with similar features but little else in common, she asked that I stay on the porch with the women of the household, who have a tendency of talking on the porch for hours.

 As I sat in the corner sulking I would catch Aunt Tit looking at me from time to time with a curios expression on her face, so much so that I thought she too was criticizing me silently in some way (insecure 17 year old me was AWFUL). After a few glances my way she announced quite cryptically "you, you are going to be trouble for boys. just wait". And because i was gross and 17 and insecure and had a cowlick that never wanted to lay down, I didn't believe her. Instead I suddenly disliked her because I thought she was making fun of me. But now at 29, I think my crazy Great Aunt Tit might have been on to something.

 I know that I can't make generalizations, and honestly my dating life outside of Ashat has been pretty uneventful but there is something in the water with the boys who tend to like me. Damaged, needy, all consuming and possessive by turns equally dismissive, aloof and in ashats case cruel. While I am not everyone's cup of tea in the small pool of guys who like me I am 'cool' 'refreshing' and a 'concept' because of my nerdy interest. But the moment I assert an actual opinion, desire, request, personality uniquely different from the person who caters to making people feel comfortable...I am a bitch. I am needy. I am immature. I am no longer a commodity.

 In Shane's case when i went along with his weird questions, and didn't get all offended by his 'suggestions' I was awesome! The moment I shut the shit down, I became a problem and his only way of fixing it was to cast me aside. He came up to me in front of everyone and said I could not eat with them anymore. He gave some bullshit excuse about their being no one in the office at a particular time to answer the phones, so I couldn't eat lunch with them anymore because it was a conflict of productivity. I rolled my eyes, called bs on the whole scenario and said I was fine eating alone but I would take my lunch whenever I wanted to, regardless. Over the weekend I couldn't let the lunch shit go. I also couldn't understand why Trish had not done much to protest. I know we aren't close friends and all but isn't there like an unspoken girl code or something that says 'sisters back each other the fuck up'. She did not get that memo, she is the worst girl friend ever.

Regardless, I decided to talk to her about Shane and admit that he'd said some pretty inappropriate stuff to me and that is why i'd been distant. She was shocked and a little appalled by what he'd said but as the days have progressed she too seems to be pulling away from me. As if I have exaggerated the incidents and am a sensitive girl crying wolf. After our talk on Monday Trish barely said two words to me the rest of the work week and a line in the sand has definitely been made: an uneven line.

I am dreading Monday morning and walking into work because suddenly I am the pariah. I am the heretic and i'd be lying if I said the whole situation hasn't gotten under my skin. I took this job because i wanted to make friends and in turn I managed to possibly lose a potential one along with gaining an enemy in a creepy older guy who now is being a douche. I just can't win. I always manage to cause a little trouble whenever I am.

Le Sigh.

For now I won't worry too much about the shenanigans bound to occur at work. I had a hella successful Ikea trip this weekend and I am so happy with the small changes that have been added to my place (a new bookshelf, a dresser and a kitchen cart). I spent all damn nigh building the furniture and my whole body aches but my life and self worth outside of work is only getting better. So i'll worry about perverts and mean girls and being a pariah tomorrow.

Right now I am going to order a big ass pizza pie, grab a cold cider and marathon Sense8 on Netflix. Right now i'm going to focus on my priorities.

'Murica

That awkward moment when your order from Urban Oufitters arrives and you have no other choice but to spend the next five hours tacking it up to your wall because you didn't realize how big the actual wall map was going be or that it would require more man power than one person. 

I'm pooped but I do think it looks okay. It's much bigger than I excepted but now I sort of have an accent wall in my studio and a makeshift headboard cause I sleep weird (sideways). 

Time for bed finally. The last two days at work have been busier then ever and putting this damn tapestry up has exhausted all my energy for one day. All in the name of decorating I guess.