The Event

Yesterday the store had a huge event featuring a book signing and speech by a very popular TV newscaster. We've known about it for some time, but of course, didn't grasp the full weight of the visit and event until the day of.

Events at the store are dreadful. Dreadful. If you have the pleasure of opening that, you can except a million calls regarding the time the event starts. If you are closing, look forward to cleaning up after very disgusting people. And if you have a mid shift, well, there goes the rest of your day because you will be slaving your ass away to set the event up and then cleaning up afterwards.

Yeah. Fun Times.

Although the events themselves have nothing to do with actual bookstore sellers priority we are forced to participate whether we want to or not. The person in charge of these store signings is Joy, and she is anything but. Technically she is the Community Relations Manager (CRM) and does a lot of things relating to literacy programs in the community. Occasionally she gets a bunch of authors, TV personalities and musicians to come in every once in a while to sign books and take pictures.

As CRM she doesn't really interact with us that much except when an event is occurring and she needs laborers. Last Thursday when I came in on my day off, it was to help with a teacher luncheon she was throwing. My role was reduced to setting up a table, unpacking a bunch of boxes and cleaning Joy's office. I was only suppose to stay for four hours but she wanted me to help clean up. I didn't leave until 8 that night.

So a few weeks ago, when we learned that a very popular tv newscaster was coming to the store we all rolled our eyes and crossed our fingers because none of us wanted to help. Unfortunately, I along with a handful of my other co-workers worked the event last night regardless of previous complaints. We ended up setting up chairs, manning an unruly line, and almost tackling a lady with a dog.

It wasn't so horrible when I think about it now. I mean I did get paid to stand around for a good chunk of the day and tackling that lady with the dog would have been hilarious.

You know what I don't understand however... our obsession with celebrity culture. Don't get me wrong, I am a huge pop culture buff (i am trying to convince my mom to buy Scene It for Thanksgiving, because I am in the mood to demolish the family in a pop culture trivia game) but I rarely am that interested in the idea of celebrity. Unless your name is Sufjan Stevens I wont get crazy over you. And I realize now that is a very pompous thing to say. We all have people we admire from afar, but as of yet I have not been that struck by a celebrity and don't plan on doing so anytime soon(except that kid from Star Trek, i may have followed him around the store)

But every time one of these events occur I am struck by how fanatic people are about meeting someone they've seen on TV. Some cry, some primp in the line, some can't wait to touch said 'celebrities' hand as if there skin is the golden ticket to success and admiration. And don't even get me started on the schmoozers, who can kiss ass better than a dog can sniff one.

Yesterday however, the newscaster was actually kind of awesome. She was personable and engaged the crowd and said some things that made sense to me. Mainly that you have to be hard headed in order to get what you want. She described her first years in the industry where she was rejected left and right and that she couldn't understand what was wrong with her. But that one person took a chance on her and that all you really need is that one person to see potential in you.

Her whole speech revolved around being hard headed and resilient. That failure is to be expected but only the strong survive. And I don't know, despite wanting to be a person not struck my said 'famous' person, I sort of started to dig her. Not so much for her show that I don't watch or her celebrity status but because she had a point: 'do what you love, even when all else seems impossible'.

Because if leading an extraordinary life were easy, everyone would have one. We'd be a society of interesting, engaging, happy individuals exploring the world. But we aren't. And despite how difficult my life is these days, I have to believe it's because I am struggling towards something great. Or at least something that is better than average.

Say What?!?!?

Maybe I should have really read the novel Pride and Prejudice. Jane Austen may be on to something when it comes to the nature of courtships.



Yesterday at work I was standing at customer service with Kat, Matt and Josh. We were talking about Halloween, and the shenanigans we were going to get into that night (does taking your 5 year old cousin count as shenanigans)when the phone rang. Since no one else seemed too excited to answer, I grabbed the line and dealt with the person on the other end.



By the time I got off the phone, the three were already engaged in another topic and had capped off the conversation with a joke where everyone but me laughed.

There is a thing you should know about me. Something I have never admitted on this journal before. I am sort of embarrassed about this but here it goes:

I am really bad at jumping in the 'middle' of things. Conversations, jokes, jump ropes, television shows. It's sort of an embarrassing and quirky trait.

I noticed this deficiency when I was a kid. I use to watch Ghostwriter (a PBS kids detective show) during dinner and was obsessed with the kid crime related drama. We had two TVs in the dinning room because my family use to watch the ABC family line up during dinner, except for me. I'd freak out if I missed an episode of my prized show.

Anyway, one night I got to the TV too late and missed the first 10 minutes of the show. Of course the 10 minutes include the initial mystery solving dilemma (the setup). For the next 20 minutes I couldn't figure out the story line to save me. I couldn't jump into the show after the commercial break and retrieve information on what transpired earlier.

So anytime I miss small chunks of situational information, I get lost and flustered. Don't watch an episode of Law and Order with me if I've missed the first 15 minutes. I will spend the rest of the show complaining that I can't figure out what the hell is going on. I could never play double dutch a school because I jumping into two rotating ropes is confusing as hell. And ugh, if I miss the setup of a really hilarious joke you can bet the punch line is going to fall flat.

There I've said it. Feels good.


My mom thinks this trait of mine is hilarious and so does Marie. The look on my face as I try to decipher missed information has been described as priceless and I'm pretty entertained by this myself. I've come to accept it.


So when Matt, Kat and Josh started to laugh and I was the only one who didn't follow, I brushed it off. Immediately I say: 'oh no, i missed something. I don't get it. confused now' and begin to walk away from them. But then Matt, says 'you do that a lot. You know. I'm starting to worry that things are just going through one ear and out the other'.

SAY WHAT? Excuse me?

But he continued:

'when i talk to you sometimes, you get a glazed look on your face and I wonder if you are paying attention at all. Seriously...'

SAY WHAT?! Times Two

I think he just called me absent-minded. Absent-minded. I am not absent-minded MATT. What the hell! I immediately got very defensive and retorted 'glazed over, I'm not five! I just didn't catch what you guys were saying'. Gosh.

Is it wrong that after that criticism, my small crush catapulted out the window and landed in a fiery pit of absent-minded fluff. I know, it is a little shallow on my part. But, being called absent-minded is not my idea of a guy showing interest in little ol' me. I don't care how sparkly my eyes are. Maybe they are sparkly because there are so glazed over from my absent minded tendency.

I mean, he's not that great of a writer (though he loves showing me his work) but I've never said in a conversation 'you're no Hemingway', especially in front of other people. I guess I'm a tad bit sensitive about personal criticism. So he didn't use the word 'absent-minded'. But the tone was very condescending, especially because he said it in front of the other two to get a reaction, as if that particular habit of mine was 'bothersome' to him.

I don't understand boys. At all.

This has potentially ended before it even started.

You Put A Force on Me.

Tomorrow can't come fast enough. Six days of work is brutal. Six days of dumb questions ('where's the nonfiction section', 'how is the fiction section organized' 'can i pay for this item at customer service where there is clearly no register?) can wear a person down. And I am all kinds of worn out. I haven't had a break for a solid 7 days. I don't plan on doing much of anything tomorrow because of this.



Last year when I started my internship with crazy publishing lady I had to go in every Tuesday and Thursday. For that reason I obviously didn't work at the bookstore those days. Even though that internship ended a year ago, I saw no reason to change my availability. I would kill for a weekend off every once in a while, but having Tuesday and Thursday off is very beneficial. For one, if an interview comes up unexpectedly I can schedule it on two very popular interview days. The day after Monday and the day before Friday. I hold on to these days off with a fiery passion. Several times I have been asked to come in on these days and my response has been swift and to the point.



'can't have other plans'.



For some reason three people have asked me to switch shifts with them this week. All of them trying to take Thursday away from me. I just can't do it. The huge migration is still taking place at Le Sad Store. Jenn's last day was Saturday and a few people will officially be out of there this week. A co-worker texted me this morning to ask for my Thursday shift because she has an interview that day, but I had to decline only because someone already asked me, to which I declined.

I would have made an exception for her but I couldn't deny the dude who already asked me request just a day ago and then switch my schedule with someone else. That wouldn't have looked good at all. So i told her that I couldn't switch shifts that day.

I may not have anything going on Thursday, but I could. You never know. I applied to some of those nonprofit jobs a week ago and I am feeling pretty good about them. If something should come up this week, I want to be able to make it. I have a tendency of putting others before myself, but in this case I can't. I too am looking for new employment, just because I don't act like an asshole at work and bitch about the job, doesn't mean that I am happy there.

This weekend was dreadful. Everyone was in a weird depressed funk that was hard to shake. It has a lot to do with the big migration taking effect and general dissatisfaction with management. Everyone, outside of the new people, are ready to move on from Le Sad Store and we have secretly held meetings about our individual exit strategy in the aisle. I am a little low key in discussing my plans but McAbs ('memba' him) had a near temper tantrum this weekend because they asked him to wear a bunny suit for an event in the children's department. Afterwards he came over to me and said 'i can't do this anymore. I fucking hate this place. I'm not going to grad school so I can wear a bunny outfit at work'.

Point heard loud and clear. Loud and Clear.

I tried to tell him worse things have happened. That he was only in the bunny suit for 15 minutes. That we all 'fucking hate this place' but that we like each other which doesn't make it that bad. We just have to hang in there and not tear each other apart in the process. He was not feeling this pick me up and spent the rest of the evening sulking and avoiding me.

I have had days like him, like everyone to be truthful, but I can't drop anchor here. I can't. Even when I want to.

I would love a new job before Christmas. It would be the best gift ever at this point. So fingers crossed for me. But until then I have to keep my head above water. I need to.

This has been a littler easier to do these days after last Monday. Ever since the weird conversation with Matt, he has, in the words of Liz Parker circa Roswell, "put a force on me'. It may be shallow to develop a crush on a boy because he may have professed an attraction to you, but dammit if that hasn't occur. Until a week ago he was just Matt; goofy, smart, attractive nice guy from work with really awesome blue eyes.

In an instant though he has become someone else. It's like he has developed a shape and form and a composition that I was never aware of until now. And like a true weirdo I want to dissect, analyze and figure him out. I think I'm beginning to understand the lure of mutual attraction. When someone likes you, you feel like you too are existing for the very first time. For someone who often feels invisible having him say something cryptic and nice has affected me.

Marie keeps telling me to forget about the Matt thing. That it doesn't really matter because he is someone I work with and we know have a lot of mutual acquaintances and he may not have any interest in me at all. This is all very true. I mean since last monday he has made no repeat attempts in engaging me like he did. He is still very nice, and goofy and smart but I can't read him. I don't know what he is thinking or feeling. I want him to tell me my eyes are pretty again dammit.

I am not being obvious about my new fond interest. I pay him about as much attention as I did before while making the rounds with my other co-workers. But I find myself lingering near him a little bit longer these days, making sure to say hi when I usually would have walked past him. He is like an endangered animal, a boy who may actually like me. And I find myself wondering what it is he sees, so that I can see it myself.

He is going to see Jackass 3D with Kat this week and asked if I wanted to go. I of course have an awful 2-10 shift and can't go but I said it would have been really cool to see it with him, because the last time we went to the movies I had a fun time. I am trying to do little girl things (without being annoying) to show interest, because as a girl with a lot of walls even my small signs of interest may not come across at all.

But his Stoicism will be the death of me.

I am possibly going to send him a sample of a short story I am writing. He finally gave me a critique of my Peru novel and said it was filled with depth and promise. I thank him the other night for giving me a nice critique and he voiced his interest in seeing more stories, 'now that you trust me a little more'. What is this boy trying to do to me?

If all else fails, and this is nothing more than a sort of interested guy, I might be able to seduce him alone with my writing. I've always been much better at expressing intimacy that way.


It's still all so very weird though.

I Will Sing You a Song I Can Lean On.

I really want to make mix cd's again.

yep.

Beckett.

Weekenders.

I really do miss my weekends.

So I'd spend the bulk of it lounging around my dorm room or bedroom watching lifetime movies and eating a subway sandwich. But still. I'd rather be contemplating what time I should get my turkey club so that I can make it back before some dumb movie about revenge than coordinating my outfit for work today.

Le sigh.

I am clocking in a six day shift this week because I was asked to cover a store event on my day off. Evil Manager asked me to come in for an extra day last weekend and I knew I should have said no. But of course because I am dying to go home for Thanksgiving, I could not turn down an extras day work.

When I got to work this Thursday, I was in charge of setting up tables and chairs and dismantling boxes. I felt like a lackey, especially as I was wheeling around this huge cart around the store. I did not participate in the actual event itself, where tea and cookies were served to teachers from the district. Instead I was a party of one, manning the meet and greet table where I didn't really meet or greet anyone.

I am running rather low on energy and motivation these days, hence my desire to have a weekend to myself, and I sort of hate the person I have become in result of it. Last night I was going over old posts from three years back and I am sort of struck by the difference in tone and narrative voice those posts are in comparison to now. Where I was lonely and miserable and awkward in school, I was also expressing myself in reaction to that with much more humor and optimism.

I feel like I have become the Debbie downer I use to silently roll my eyes at way back when. It's a little disheartening, especially because i have a written record of my life now (cause at this point, I've laid it all out here). I guess I never realize how much of a safe haven college was. So, yeah I could sulk and be miserable and bemoan about anxiety and Art Boy but I felt safe there. And the 'real world' sort of feels like you are on the edge of a really tall platform and heavy winds are blowing you about. And you are always one gust away from losing grip and falling over.

And I have a tendency of not enjoying the moment while I'm in it and then looking fondly back on opportunities that were missed. I did that in college, I am doing that now. I read a post from October 2006, the month I started therapy and I nearly teared up with happiness.

In the post I talk about my first venture into the wonderful world that is therapy. During my first session Casey, psychologist, says that we will work together to make me more congruent. When I read that sentence I was like "omg, i forgot all about that goal for myself in therapy". I have been toying with the word all day.

In Latin congruent is congruere which means to come together or agree. The person I see and the person I am are very blurred by my anxiety, depression and black and white thinking. And for the last four years (2 of which I had help from psychologists) I have been attempting to become whole. Not that I am this freaking broken, splintered person. We won't go that far. But there are cracks.

And I freaking hate that the glue that sort of held me together than was just my very awkward perseverance through the storm. I haven't lost that, but damn it all to hell if I am not drowning that in misery too. It's very hard work to be miserable, I am sort of over that for a while.

I want things to get better, I do I do. But until they do, I can't lose grip on who I am. That alone will make this quarter life crisis thing more than a pain to deal with. So maybe a change of attitude will affect change in my life.

I mean hey, I still am applying to wicked awesome jobs and planning out outfits for interviews, I may potentially have a boy to crush on who is crushing on me (more on him later) and guess who just got My So Called Life on DVD! From Netflix! This girl.

I am planning a weekend to myself soon. I don't care how the funds look. If I could spend two days to myself, eating a sandwich and watching Dead Like Me or even My So Called Life then so be it. Currently I am picking my sanity over anything else. It's what has always made things a little easier.

Some Nights....

...there isn't a pillow large enough for me to yell my frustrations into.

~Beckett

Interesting Development in the Boy Department.

Boys are confusing. Like really confusing. And after last night I think I may have no concept of the opposite sex.





So I did not contact the creepy customer guy despite a phone call and text message from him. On a creepiness scale from 1 to 10, I gave him a high 7 and in retrospect I should not have given him my number. For him to tell me, within within minutes of talking, that he was just getting over a 'depressive' state which left him despondent for weeks was kind of weird. As a person who suffers from both depression and anxiety I would never admit that to a stranger. Ever.

I mean, outside of friendly exchanges, I don't really know him and I got the feeling that he would be needy and clingy from the moment I started talking to him. So yeah, maybe he is a nice guy (and those GRE books would have been useful) but at this time even hanging out with him would feel...forced. Especially because I have had no interest in past interactions to get to know him.





It all comes down to the fact that I need to be comfortable around a guy in order to hang out with him. It's my thing. Even though Mike and I had our moments, he was the closest (and only) friend had in college. He was judgemental and hard headed and the whole extreme sports thing was not my cup of tea. But when he wasn't being annoying, he was patient and funny and didn't mind grabbing cookies with me after after class.





We never crossed the line between friend and dating because we'd missed the opportunity to do so. Marie and I talk about this 'dating time frame' all the time. I think men and women can have platonic friendships only after weighing out romantic interest. For me, every guy friendship begins with me wondering if he is someone I would potentially date. Mike was very flirty in the beginning of our friendship. He would drop hints that he was interested all the time while I shrugged my shoulders. After a few months of this we quickly became fast friends because he knew that I wouldn't date him. And I had no attraction in the beginning.





For me, you can't date your best friend. Your husband or boyfriend can eventually become your best friend but I would never want to date someone who knew EVERYTHING about me before then. Like Ducky and Sam from Pretty in Pink. Their relationship would have been disastrous after a while and that is coming from someone who is a huge supporter of Ducky. Because in all honesty, if happily ever after never worked out for them they would not only end up losing a partner but also a friend.

This is why I believe there is a window of opportunity (2 months to year) when you can date someone who is neither your friend or a complete stranger. This person is sort of an associate who you've known for a bit but not long enough to be consider a friend. There is a theory in practice and I'm not saying dating your best friend or a complete stranger is impossible but for me it seems pretty hard.



I am a pessimist in this department, I admit this. I'd feel uncomfortable dating someone who knew me for years but I can't even begin to imagine dating a stranger. This is put me in quite a bind because there are days when having a boyfriend to lean on would be...nice. But I'm not exactly sure how one falls into dating a person. Which I guess is why I am hesitant when it comes to approaching boys and/or boys approaching me. Because you know what, despite my unscientific 'dating time frame' theory, I would end up dating someone a) who was a friend for many years or b) out of the blue because I missed all the social clues of romantic pursuits that I sort of fell into dating a stranger. I wouldn't put it past me.

But the other night something really weird happened that is making me question everything.



Remember that kid Matt from work. The one who I travelled with on Nerd Day Extravaganza. The one who gave me his very crappy story to read. The one who has very pretty blue eyes that you wish did all the talking instead of his mouth sometimes. Yeah, that one.


A week or two ago we were in the break room talking about a writing project a mutual friend of ours is putting together. By writing project I mean a guy from work has put together a writing journal of sorts for us to submit work to. The first volume came out a month ago and I, of course, did not participate. Matt turned in a couple of pieces (involving zombies and strippers) and has been urging to me submit something ever since.

This is what we were talking about that day in the break room. He said he really wanted to read something of mine and if I felt uncomfortable showing him a full story he would be cool with just a summary of something. For some reason this made perfect sense. I could give him a sample of my work without really giving him a sample. Brilliant thinking Matt. So, I wrote the summary of one of my stories down on a legal pad that day and toyed with the idea of giving it to him.



After a few days of avoiding him I approached Matt as I was leaving work and handed him my folded up and by now tattered summary. When he went to grab the note I held on to it tightly and said 'i don't do this. I don't let people into my writing world. this is a very serious trust thing, and I don't trust a lot of people. this is only for you. not Josh or Kat or anyone else. just you. promise me that" I tried to say it with as much humor as I could but there was a definite seriousness to my tone. And I could see that he understood what I was saying. Because he promised me with a sincerity I rarely see that he would take good of my thoughts.



Ever since I gave him the summary though he has been acting weird towards me. Nicer maybe. Not that he was ever mean to me but our relationship has...changed. We did have a really good train ride together in August and during our visit to the museum, when he'd catch me staring at dinosaurs all by myself he would come over and to make sure i wasn't drifting away.

I sometimes have a crush on him while other days I don't. He is intelligent and funny and knows a bunch of things I don't know. He is crush worthy. Very crush worthy. But until a few months ago he was in a long distance relationship with a pretty girl in Connecticut and then when they broke up Jenn was calling dibs. So I didn't think much of it.

But after last night I don't know what to think. I don't know what he thinks and it is driving me crazy.

Here it goes:

I was working in the receiving area (in the back of the store) for a while when Matt came back there to grab some boxes from a shelf. We started talking about random things because we have a tendency of doing so. I always poke fun at him because he walks very softly and I can never hear him when he approaches. So I asked if he could carry change with him or something so I'd know when he was approaching. We continued this back and forth banter, when he suddenly picked up a magazine with a very beautiful model/actress on it and held it in the air for me to see.

"I don't get shit like this" he started "why people think men are so obsessed with women who look like this". The chick on the cover was very beautiful. Tall, and ultra skinny with hair that never (ever) stands out of place. Her boobs were huge and for god sakes legs just aren't that long. They can't be.




I shrugged and said something along the lines of 'well that's America's concept of beauty. hence why i was a very insecure teenager".





Then out of nowhere he says:





"yeah but guys like me don't like girls like this. this is not real. I've liked girls like you my whole life and it's sad that all we see on magazine are girls like her. It's...wrong when you think about it"



Excuse me, come again?



If I am exaggerating, stop me here. But what the fuck did he just say?You like girls like me. Girls like me. Repeat that again. GIRLS LIKE ME. You can't say that to Girls Like Me because we fall hard. We get butterflies in stomach. We write blog posts about you.

I played it off, I think. Maybe he was just being nice. I mean he is nice. So, I just made a joke and then returned to the project I was doing. He then says he wants to tell me that I will like because I am a girl (so he's not perfect). I laugh and say ' did you just say I'd like this story because i am a girl'





"well not because you're just a girl but because you are a girl with really unusual eyes'





And I stop smiling when he says this because I rarely make eye contact with people. But my eyes are big and brown and in the light they are creepy shade of brown. I like them, but I rarely think people pay attention to them. Especially him.





He begins the story by mentioning his ex-girlfriend, which immediately makes me hate the story. He broke up with her a few months ago, and rarely says anything about her. Anyway, he said he recently found pictures of her that he'd taken in the dark and that he was amused by how bright her eyes were. Because she has weird eyes too! And he missed her eyes the most especially when they went to bed, because they were really beautiful eyes that sparkled. And that my eyes might do the same thing, 'just saying'.



WTF? Come again?




By now my big brown sparkling eyes are fucking huge because he is starring at me and I am starring at him wondering if he is trying to tell me something. But I don't know what to say because I am not sure what I should say. Because I'm not sure if he just told me my eyes are pretty and that girls like me are beautiful. I don't know if his last minute decision to go the the city with Jenn, Kat and I had anything to do with me agreeing to go ( he did mention if I was going he would make an effort to take the day off to go too). I'm not sure if asking me to see Inception with him was to just spend some time with me. Or when he gave me a map he brought from Germany because he knows I like to put them up in my room. I'm not sure if yesterdays comments expressed interest in me or just interest in small talk.



But before I could say anything else, Kat came into the back and ran over to Matt to give him a big hug. And the moment was interrupted. That girl like me with the nice brown eyes was replaced with a girl like her. And he looked uncomfortable but didn't turn the hug down and I just resumed the last of my project while they embraced for a moment and then made a quick exit.



I don't know what to think. Maybe he was just reminiscing. Who knows, but it is all very was odd. And now I don't know what to do. The whole crush thing has flared up and I am confused by it. Dammit. Why can't boys just make sense so that I don't have to analyze everything. Because that is what I've been doing.


I mean saying he liked 'girls like me' was the equivalent of Mark Darcy telling Bridget Jones that he liked her: 'just as you are'. That changes a girl. It does.

Damn.

Little Admirer.

Um. I may have accidentally befriended a precocious nine year old at the bookstore some months ago... unwittingly of course.



Let me explain.



I fucking hate my job so much that I even hate how much I write about hating my job. But because I was a kid, teenager and sort of adult with a tendency of daydreaming about this life I want to lead and the one I am leading, I am in a funk about the current state of things. I wanted to move to New York, I wanted to work at the bookstore while I interned around town and applied to 'big people' jobs but I just had no clue it would take this long. I am wallowing in disillusionment at the moment.



But, and there is a but, the aspect of the bookstore I do love is interacting with people who like to read. And by read, I mean people who don't jump on the bandwagon of Oprah, or even the new york times, book suggestion. I like interacting with people who are either discovering new writers or who value substance over word of mouth promotion. And it's not to say that 'popular' titles aren't...good. But when I'm in a bookstore (i miss the Strand) I run my hands against the spines of books until a title catches my eye. I read the back cover copy and thumb through a few passages before I commit myself to reading it. I don't need Oprahs help in finding good reads. I like to discover my own.



Case in point: I was in the store a few days ago when a lady came asking for Oprah newest selection for her book club. Not only did she butcher the title but when her and her friend got in line her friend asked her what the book was about, seeing that she was going to spend 20 bucks on it. The lady replied 'it's about, um, this, story, where....just read the inside flap it'll let you know there". It's a little disheartening for a book lover and avid reader like myself to hear comments so dense.



Anyway, when I do come across someone who actually loves reading I will take the extra time to talk about my own favorite titles. I will suggest authors who express the same narrative content and then geek out about new and old titles alike. It's a hit or miss sometimes. You either relate to said book nerd or they thank you politely in order to continue shopping. When it's a miss, I don't really care but when I get a hit, I feel like I've contributed my knowledge of literature for once.



Most of the people I help however are teens and kids because I think they feel most comfortable approaching me. I look young, I am usually very bubbly and hell making eye contact with them isn't difficult. And I love engaging in conversation with them. I mean most of the teens and kids in this town are snotty rich twats, but when i come across a nerdy outcast who wants to read White Fang, I want to smother the nerd with love. 'read away' I want to yell, "it will get better"



A couple of months ago I was approached by a very morose child with long blond hair and blue eyes who wanted to be shown where the teen section was. She sort of lingered about at customer service for awhile before telling me that she needed help finding a book. At first I was a little annoyed by her. She kind of came out of no where and then demanded help (despite a line) but because she looked to be about 11 or 12 I decided to help her first. I don't like keeping kids waiting.



When we arrived to the kids department I turned to walk away when she said 'oh, I've read this book and this book and this book. there is nothing good in this section anymore'. She frowned and then brushed the hair out of her face with annoyance. I decided to give the girl a shot, so I asked her what she was into reading. Of course she replied 'everything' as if it was a bad thing.



I spent the next 30 minutes throwing books at her. She told me she was 12 (age will be a very important factor later) and that she 'finished books quickly'. I skipped the classics and went directly into reads I found interesting. Sort of dark (like her), negative utopia (it's never to early) and some nerd classics. She told me that her dad worked across the street and he'd given her his credit card to buy whatever she wanted. She then pulled out the gold card and placed it on top of the books she was set on buying and headed to the register.



When I returned to customer service Kat, who witnessed our exchange, said 'you two were uber cute talking about books in the teen department. I think you may have made a friend'.



Six weeks later while i was goofing around at customer service I caught the sight of blond hair from the corner of my eye. When I turned it was the girl again waiting patiently for me. And only me. She was with her mom this time and couldn't stay long but wanted to tell me she liked that books that I recommended. She said it so little infliction I thought she was poking fun. Then she walked away and I didn't see her again for another month. This time around she popped up in the children's department where I was working and said 'i bet you don't remember me' but by then the very daria isque child with blond hair was imprinted in my memories.



'No. I remember you. You read books about Death and liked a couple of things I recommended. How's it going?'



"Good, I guess" She said shrugging her shoulders. She didn't say much after that. Something about school and Fairy Tales. But then she was gone.



It has been this way for months. I run into her unexpectedly. She asks me if I remember her, I remind her that I do and then we exchange short sentences. She is odd and a little weird but she keeps seeking me out in the store. And for some reason I like helping her.



This all came to a startling revelation two weeks ago when I was approached by Molly, finally a name, while I was at the cash register. She wasn't buying anything but decided to cut in line to hang out near my register. She wanted me to know that she was interested in Greek Mythology now and if I knew of any books she could read. I got some very evil glares from customers in line due to her cutting (luckily there were two cashiers up there) but decided to talk about stories I liked from Greek Myths. She got very excited, as excited as her face allows, and I pointed her towards the mythology section. A half hour later Molly and her mom (who i met once before) came up to the register with the book i recommended.

Her mom, to molly's embarrassment, gushed that I was the girl her daughter talks about. The girl who works at the bookstore and recommends stuff that she actually likes. At this Molly turned red and walked towards the exit while her mom told me about Molly's interest in reading and writing and how I've helped. It was bizarre this whole time I thought this little girl was perhaps coming to me out of convenience, while i rambled endlessly about good books and shit. But in reality she was seeking me out. And I suddenly became very attached to her. Like a kindred spirit.

Because you know what I was Molly once. I was a very lonely, sad kid you escaped into books because I couldn't relate to kids my age. And I sought out people older because I thought they could relate. And in a weird way I have been fueling her nerdom and letting her know it's okay. Even it's through book recommendations. Can you believe it?

I was floored by this revelation. Floored. And wanted to ask Molly about her interest in reading and what she's been getting out of the books I've recommended but she was far to embarrassed to say anything except goodbye. To top it off her mom came in a few days ago to say hi to me. She was going to see a movie upstairs and knew that Molly would kill her if she didn't stop in. I asked her if Molly was always this into reading and writing, and she said this was a new thing. She then told me that Molly wrote a story about Greek Myths for her class which her teacher thought was astounding and original. When I asked her what grade Molly was in, her mom revealed that she just started the fourth or fifth. I can't remember. Turns out Molly is 9, not 12 like she told me when I met her a while ago. Even the fact that she lied to me in the beginning makes me adore her.

I think someone/thing must have sent me a mini blond blue eyed version of myself to take care of. There has got to be a reason she has latched on to me and I to her. I remember when I was her age, I admired a girl who was a few years ahead of me in school. Her name was Erin and I thought she could do no wrong. She skipped class and wrote fake hall passes but she was a Straight A student and was the epitome of....awesome. I thought she understood all the misery I felt then, even though she was popular and pretty. There was something about her, that made me think things would get better. That I could be like her in the future. I never summoned up the courage to talk to her but I admired from a far and when she graduated it was like I'd lost a friend. And it's weird to think I am in a position to provided that same sort of comfort to sad nerdy kids who like to read books that don't have vampires in them.

Le sigh.

Because of my continued interaction with Molly I have decided to apply to some non profit jobs in the city that provide art education programs for kids. I believe in emphasizing the importance of art education in school systems as well as that of science and math. And if I can nurture some sullen kid into an interesting sullen kid who writes stories about Greek Mythology than life won't feel that bad.

It can't.

I Should Have Joined the Peace Corps.

There is a dumb restaurant moving next door to the book store and they have set up a hiring booth right outside the entrance. But after tonight's revelation they should have just asked everyone currently working at the bookstore if they wanted a job because it seems that is the current trend a Le Sad Store.

I just learned that 3 people have decided to apply and subsequently work at the new restaurant next door, opting to take a significant pay cut in order to escape the hell that has become the state Le Sad Store (i sort of like this name for the bookstore. I'm keeping it).

Every since word of this restaurant opening there have been small rumblings that most of the current staff would jump ship and apply next door. Management has drastically changed the atmosphere at work and if you weren't happy before...well this new regime isn't going to help. I guess it's not a huge shock. When people aren't threatening to quit and walk out on the spot they are complaining about everything.

I've done it too. Last week I couldn't even hold back my frustrations. I was pissy and sour faced and I don't even know how I got my stupid (and small) raise seeing how miserable I've been the last few weeks. And I guess it's sort of weird to realize that everyone else is in the same rut but that they are doing something about it.

I refuse however to go from one retail job to another. That I will not do. I honestly do not see the benefit of one day selling books to hoping I get great tips at the end of the night from gross teenagers. AND i have a weird thing about foods and the smell some emit, so working at a restaurant is not going to cut it. But damn it all to hell if I am not in a rut. Damn it all to hell if a part of me is a little freaked out that these people are at least leaving Le Sad Store while I still apply to jobs that are nonexistent.

And I can't help but feel as if being here has just been one big mistake. That two years have come and gone in a blur and I have yet to achieve anything or make waves. And I wonder if I am really working hard at making things better? So yeah I won't work at a freaking chicken shack (no offense to anyone who does) but am a really making the most of my time here?

I just feel so aimless and without direction. And I have no idea what to do or where to go with all this....scared energy.

It's late. Maybe it's the sleep talking. Or the nerves.

Did You Know....

a customer sort of asked me to hang out with him this weekend? Let me explain.

When I'm not cursing my life and spending my days off watching Netflix, I am trying to stay afloat here. Grad school applications loom, jobs must be applied to and I have to get up everyday from either sleep or a long nap to hold down the fort at the bookstore. God I am going to look back on these days fondly when I am older.

I had a really disastrous weekend of self loathing and depression. I barely got of bed and finding the will to put clothes on was difficult. The weather is a lot cooler these days but I am taking this grey skies, rainy day thing to the max. At this point if I could wear sweats to work life would be perfect.

Anyway, on Saturday I was heading to the kids department I was stopped by a regular customer who wanted to say hello.

'I haven't seen you in a while' weird dude begins as I try to attach a name to his very unfamiliar face. Then I remember that I helped him like 8 months ago when he came into the store wanting to find books on speed reading. He was really sweaty and frantic and sort of creeped me out for reason I could only attribute to his interest in speed reading (I can't even begin to ask why someone would spend money on a book about how to read books quickly. It seems pointless and a waste of money) but regardless, I spent about 15 minutes going over my own reading prowess and giving techniques on how to read quickly.

Needless to say the few times I have seen him since that day, we have exchanged friendly but insignificant 'hey, how are you doing' and kept it moving. So I was taken aback when he said that he hadn't seen me in a while because that would mean that my absence was noticed by said complete stranger.

I was about to say "hey, how's it doing" when he interrupted my internal dialogue and asked me what I was up to these days. I leaned against a shelf and said that I was still working at the bookstore (obviously) and studying for the GRE. He said that he'd taken it some years back and still had some study aids if I needed them.

I thought this was weird, because that would mean we would have to cross paths again for me to get the GRE book and for me to return them. But GRE books are expensive and I figured if he had some old books lying around he could leave them with one of my co-workers for me to retrieve later.

Of course at this point of the conversation I should have realised that customer who i vaguely remembered from forever ago was engaging in conversation outside of customer-bookseller relations. He was establishing familiarity in order to get to know me outside of my dumb name tag. But I didn't, so i continued to ask him questions to deter talking about myself in turn fanning interest to creepy but friendly customer.

He said he'd taken some time off due to 'depression related things' and that he was now working as a pharmacist in town. I didn't mention any of my anxiety related trauma's but instead asked if he was feeling any better because depression is a hard thing.

"do you live in town" he interjected after a while, to which I of course replied "yeah, a few blocks away"

Our conversation went on for another ten minutes where I talked about Latin (don't ask) and he inquired about my interest outside of work. Then we sort of filtered about and he asked if there was a way for him to contact me if and when I ever wanted to hang out outside of work, of course.

Jesus.

Like a very dumb naive girl I said 'that'd be cool' and then proceeded to give him my phone number for which he called and sent a text message soon after.

He's a nice guy... I suppose, outside of his potential of drowning me in his problems, but I have no interest in getting to know him. My first impression was of a very needy, lonely guy looking to be taken care of by a naive lonely girl. And sometimes I feel bad about my immediate judgement and dismissal of boys because I am 24 and I would love to date, but the dating world is bizarre. People my age use to term 'hooking up' in reference to things that don't involve 'hooking up for coffee and such'. What is expected out of people in their 20's relationships wise is terrifying to me because of my inexperience and furthermore romantic ideas about relationships. Sure, he could just be a guy looking to meet a new friend. Or he could be a guy looking to casually date. But I am not a girl who can just met a guy and then go out on a date with him. Just can't.

When I was 13, the show Roswell premiered on the WB. I was freaking obsessed with this teen drama about an alien, named Max who falls in love with a human named Liz Parker. After saving her from a gunshot wound to the stomach, the two fall in love while trying to keep Max; along with his sister and best friend Isobel and Michael, alien secret from authorities. Yes, it was hella campy. Yes, there were better things on tv but I was in love with this show. I wanted to be Liz Parker, who unlike Bella Swan (because that sounds like a real name), was this smart resourceful heroine protecting her man.

And Max, oh Max played by the dreamy Jason Behr, was of course your handsome tragic hero, torn between protecting an important secret and finding love. Anyway, in the first episode after revealing his secret to Liz he goes to her in the dead of night to make sure that she won't go to the police and put him and his family in danger( because his sister and 'sort of brother' aliens are worried that Liz will tell everyone what she knows).

Instead of reminding her that she is the only one who knows his secret and that telling anyone will destroy everything, he confesses, in one of the most beautiful scenes ever, that he has loved Liz Parker from a far his whole entire life and that he risked everything because of her. And she in return, through a series of telepathic flashes ( i know, it's a stretch but bear with me) is able to see how much Max has loved her and how beautiful she through his eyes.

When I was 13 this is what I thought relationships were. Complicated? Yes. Flawed? Of Course. But sort of all encompassing and romantic and vulnerable. I mean it was weird for once watching a guy express vulnerability to a girl who had no clue what was going on. And in a way, like 13 year old me, I have spent my whole life waiting to feel some sort of romantic nirvana by OK guys I've casually dated but by one dude...My Dude. To not be swept of said feet but to be spiral into something that I cannot explain but that feels right.

And when I talk to guys my age, I secretly am holding my breath for that moment I feel a spark which propels me into a connection I will never come back from. That propels me to follow through with requests to be available and vulnerable to him. And I say this only because I have sort of felt that way before. I have had immediate attractions and connections with guys that not so much consume my thoughts but that force me to step outside of my own fears for once. And outside of Simon I have not had that sort of magical, I want to melt into you feeling for a while.

And I feel stupid for writing this. I feel stupid and naive and like such a girl but I am still holding out for my Max Evans (or Simon). I am still holding out for my dude, because I feel like when I meet him I will know that he is what I've been looking for. And vice versa naturally.

Such a girl I've turned out to be. Blah.

Anyway, I need to shut this guy down immediately. Not only is he not my type but he is a customer and as Jenn said that night, you give people your number because you want them to keep in touch with you. So I may have sent him a wrong vibe. I didn't answer his text 'what are you doing this weekend' but I assume I will get a few more but he figures I am writing him off.

Yeah. Another quasi adult thing I don't know how to deal with yet.

Attitude Adjustment

oh boy are things rough.


In the past few days I have gone from being depressed about things to miserable about things. Being miserable is not a step up in the mood department because at least with depression (well, sort of) I get to wallow by myself and no one gets to bear the weight of my 'sadness'. But with misery you can't help but get other people involved because it doesn't have any merit if people can't see how much you hate something.


I am past the point of hating my job. I dread going to work and can't even attempt to care about being there. With the recent change in management the team morale is down. There is no sense of, dare i say, community. While I enjoy goofing around with my co-workers from time to time and discussing inappropriate topics at customer service, the honeymoon period has come and gone and we have some how zoomed right to the grumpy old 'we've been married too long' phase.

It doesn't help that Kat is mourning the death, excuse me, the exit of Evan from the store as if he has....well died. He didn't get fired or even quit, he is simply doing what every other wealthy kid who wants to experience the world does....a survival isque tour in South America for 3 months. Yes, some people have enough money to buy their way into enlightenment. He went on leave two weeks ago from the store but had a huge bar hopping party last weekend to say goodbye to everyone. This week she came back to work complaining about how sad she feels and that things just aren't the same anymore. I been putting distance between us due to this. She is way more dramatic than what I am use to and I won't know what to do when she finds some other guy to latch herself on emotionally as I roll my eyes. I just cant.



And now freaking employee evaluations are coming up and I dread having to sit in front of Evil Manager as she reviews my performance. I have a huge problem with this lady. So huge that most nights I am blatantly insubordinate to her because I don't like her. I don't know why she is even giving out the evaluations when she has only been there 8 months.

Jenn, girl who partook in Nerd Day Extravaganza, had her employee evaluation where Evil Manager said she had an 'attitude problem'. WTF?! Way to build confidence in your employee. Great Job. Jenn then, maybe out of spite or because she really doesn't need this job (last year in college, a part time teaching gig in the city, application to the peace corps looming) put in her two weeks notice.

If Jenn has an attitude problem than I am going to get slaughtered on my employee evaluation. They know I can't stand being there any longer, and I am so beyond just having an attitude problem.

Ugh Argh Blerg

I am not feeling it these days.

I have a strange case of lethargy that I cant seem to shake. Maybe because it's finally starting to feel like fall and the change has stilled me. Or maybe it's because I am in a weird place where my mind can't seem to make up its mind about anything. So not thinking is a better option.

Work feels pointless. I am still pulling in full time hours despite my breakdown a few weeks ago where I blatantly complained of working too much. I miss having some sort of a weekend off and have contemplated asking for Sundays off. Permanently. That would mean only four days at the bookstore. 2 days of job hunting, GRE studying and general upkeep days. And 1 day of rest.

But could I survive off of four days a week salary? I do not know.

On top of that employee evaluations are coming up and because the management has so drastically changed from last year my assessment (and raise) will hinge on that of the Evil Manager. This may not be the time to ask for another day off because of stress and general disinterest in being there.

I am also training a bunch of new people while the regular crew settles into the misery that is the bookstore. Pretty Ricky is NOT as stellar as Kat made him out to be. Sure he is funny and nice but that is all. I spent the weekend training him at customer service and outside of a very pretty face he is not that interesting and it pisses me off that she made me girl jealous for no reason.

The customers continue to suck. The managers continue to hang out in their office while we BS our way on the floor. And if I have to have another conversation regarding e-readers I think I may die. Really.

The lethargy has to have something to do with this great change I am waiting for in my life. I can honestly say I have no idea what to do with myself. I graduated with no clue on what I wanted for my life and now I am sitting face to face with the idea I have of myself and my sullen actuality staring back at me. It's frustrating.

I'm frustrated. And I can't move because of it. I am wedged in some unmovable place that I am too tired to shake from at the moment. I do hope this doesn't last long and that I can gain my enthusiasm and momentum again. I need it.

I miss it.

Pretty Ricky Was His Name.

Deciding to pursue higher education in the form of grad school was not (and has not been) an easy decision to make. Apart of me cannot help but feel like that kid who signed up for band at the beginning of the year but because the amount of kids allowed to join the 'introductory' class has been filled, I've been placed in the less popular orchestral club out of pity. Yes that is how i got my hands on the violin. I was a very sad 8 year old.



What I'm trying to say is that there is a part of me that feels disappointed that this real world thing is not working out. That I cannot hack this economy and this job market like I wanted to. I feel so naive about moving here. Don't get me wrong, I'm happy not to be living in South Carolina moping around and driving my mom crazy but my life here is far from perfect. And like being turned away from band ( i really wanted to play the trumpet) I've been giving a consolation gift for my efforts.



Applying to grad school is going to be tough. The last time I sort of bs-ed my way around the application process and refused to retake the GRE. But the kids graduating from school this time around are smart. They know the job market is horrible, they are going to cruise right past the right of passage that is 'post grad slump' and continue on to the next phase that is higher education which means that the application process is competitive and I will have to be on my A++ game.



I am going to take the GRE in November and then again in January. I have four schools that I am eyeing, plus another two or three that I need to consider. I also still have this UK scheme to apply to and am need to secure a job while I am still in New York. I am keeping my possibilities open out of blind faith that one of them will work out but the next few months are going to be a struggle and I expect there to be a lot of coffee consumption. LOTS.



I just need a change and the benefits of going to grad school out weigh the negative (student loans). I actually miss school and learning things and though my undergraduate career was pretty uneventful, I am looking forward to being a graduate student if I can get in that is.


I seriously think I am suffering from a Quarter Life Crisis. I worry about things that 18 year old me couldn't give a shit about. I worry about what I want to do with my life, where I want to live, what sort of adventures and misadventures i want to get myself into (or out of depending on the day). It's all a little overwhelming and terrifying and confusing.

Outside of my professional and educational worries, the social aspects of my life are stressful too. I am much better socially than I was two years ago. I am still awkward as hell and prefer my days off to myself, but I am in control of some aspects of my anxiety and talking to people is easier. But that doesn't mean I am exactly where I want to be socially.

I continue to make friend-like connections with people to the point where I have things to do every once in a while but I have not established close enough connections where I have a core group of friends to confide in. My Friday nights are still spent hanging out by myself watching Netflix online or reading books. Surprisingly not trashy ones.

And I know that this has everything to do with me and the parts of anxiety that I do not yet have control over. I have insecurities about fitting in and being judged and all that jazz. I can't wrap my head around the fact that people want to hang out with me and get to know me. It's all too much to process and I have a tendency of keeping people at bay.

On the boy level...well there isn't any level. I am afraid at this point that I will be an old maid with a billion cats and maybe a subscription to 'Knitting n Style' magazine. It's very difficult being a 24 year old girl surrounded by 20 year old and older women who are so comfortable around guys I silently take notes from a distance.

In High School my only romantic interest was my best guy friend Justin, who came from an uber religious family so nothing ever come of that. Outside of him though, me and Marie were the ugly ducklings in school. We were those girls people would openly make fun of because the only guys we were ever paired with were dorkier than us.

Though that I am not that awkward 16 year old girl anymore, I am still very insecure when it comes to boys. I often find myself feeling like the 'ugly duckling' around them especially when you are friends with Kat who has no trouble in the boy department.

Recently the store hired a very (very, very) attractive guy named Ricky. The first day I met him I was like 'hmmmm, interesting lad. Kind of pretty. Thank you hiring manager'. I immediately inquired about the new boy before introducing myself and of course upon further inspection realized that he is the hottest guy whose ever worked with us. I have donned him Pretty Ricky for that reason.

Kat did not find Pretty Ricky that pretty at first but I made a comment regarding my 'attraction' to him a few days ago and she has been all over Pretty Ricky ever since. And like the awkward 16 year old me, I don't even see the use in trying to get his attention because compared to Kat I don't stand a chance. Yes, I know that he's new and could have a girlfriend or a wife or a boyfriend. I don't even have any real intention of falling in like with this guy. But sometimes I want to be the interesting girl that guys flock to.

I couldn't help but feel a tinge of jealousy when Kat said she spent the last two days working with Pretty Ricky and 'enjoying' his company. He's so funny, and witty, and sarcastic. 'we have a connection already. I'm glad i can talk to you about this'. This is the same girl who has a boyfriend and a crush on Evan and who receives presents (yes, presents) from various hot customers. Couldn't she just let me revel in Pretty Ricky without stirring up my Ugly Duckling syndrome.

I am only hit on by old men and boys under the age of 15. So sometimes I get annoyed by Kat's obsession with the male species. She thrives off of their attention, even though she won't admit it.She is always approached by attractive boys our age, and jealousy rears it's ugly head when I hang out with her because I am ignored often during interactions with the opposite sex.

I do understand what Kat's draw is. She's that alternative chick that nerd boys love. She reads graphic novels and listens to 90's rock while being a fan of pop culture phenoms and girly things. She is beautiful yet insecure and guys want to take care of her or be around her.

I, on the other hand, am never going to be that girl. I have control issues which prevent me from ever (ever) playing the role of victim. I am not that girly but rather pretty goofy. But I do want to be comfortable enough in my skin where I can engage boys that I like without pause of concern or silently wondering if I am being interesting.

Because while Kat has hit it off with Pretty Ricky (and every other male employee) I have not.

I too had a conversation with Pretty Ricky but he didn't seem too interested in talking to me. He was very bland and stiff and I didn't get the sense of 'witty awesomeness' that Kat has been privy too. I immediately surmised that he would not be witty or awesome around me because I am not that interesting or (chucks here i go) attractive enough to bother with.

And hell, now I am not even going to give Pretty Ricky a chance on a friend level because of the 'connection' he has already made with Kat and because I know she will lure him in so she has another guy fawning over her.

I am a horrible person aren't I? I have too much time on my introverted hands. But I feel all kinds of confronted by the things I want, the people I would like in my life and the person I want to be. And my jealousy towards 'pretty alternative girls' or people my age who seem to have it together (whatever it is) has more to do with my inability to grasp what I want to make out of this life. And fears that I an no closer to figuring out what I want than I was a few years ago.

F*cking Quarter Life Crisis and damn Pretty Ricky's.

You're Welcome

Today i was scheduled to come in at 10am, but I got a frantic call from my manager at 8 asking if I could possibly come into work 'like now' because two people called out and she had no one to get the store in order before the bookstore officially opened at 10.

Of course I couldn't say 'are you fucking nuts', i was scheduled for 10, I'm not going to come in an hour and a half early. But I didn't. Instead, I put on the first pair of work pants i could find and then threw on a rather raggedy sweatshirt and went to work an hour early.

You would think that I would get a 'thanks Beck, you're a life saver' but as soon as I showed up she threw a million and one things my way and the rest of the day I felt in the pits.

There is a terrible soul sucking feeling that occurs via working in retail. 1) you get shit from customers, as if your whole life has led to this 'big achievement'. Oh, look a job working in a bookstore. you're mom must be proud is that look I often get from people and it's infuriating. When someone spells the word 'and' in front of your face as if you have never seen nor heard the word before, you can't help but wonder what the fuck you are doing with your life that it has led to this.

Secondly, there is no reward (on any end) for your hard work. So you came into work today an hour early and spent much of your shift manning down the fork in the children's department, customer service and the cash register, who cares. Not the managers of course, who still give you shit for telling an old lady you could put a clearance item on hold for her (apparently that is not allowed). Not from your employees who are for the most part very intelligent slackers who can go hours talking about a zombie Apocalypse but putting a book away on a shelf...Christ no.

I stayed an extra 30 minutes after my shift ended because there are a bunch of new people who needed help working the phones and the computers. Well, actually it was one new person and his name is Rick and boy do i have an uber crush on him (more on that later) but still. At the end of the day, I still didn't get a 'thanks for your hard work' from anyone. Not even the manager who asked me to come in and help.

And yet, I can't move on from this place. There seem to be no jobs, or rather, no jobs that want to hire me. And I am not taking this to heart but it's beyond frustrating. And of course everyone is starting school this semester. And they are all bummed that they have exams next week and essays to write on 'dead poets' and I want to smack them all in the face and say 'hey, you could be slaving away at a bookstore working minimum wage. Shut up'

I really miss being in school. I really miss the feeling of progression. That there are people supporting my ideas and concepts and the exploration of....things. I hate the drudgery that is my life and the people that I am around. And for once I can say that I am over this 'real world' thing...and have decided to go to grad school.

For real.

I know my past attempts have been without real sincerity. I didn't take the application process seriously and may have waited until the last day to turn things in. But, professionally I am not where I want to be. I can't find a job and internships are financially not possible. And because I rushed graduating I know I never utilized the many services college life has to offer. So yeah, while I still look for a job to pay the bills I'm applying to grad school. I have a couple of schools in mind and have requested grad information to be sent my way. I will have to take the GRE again (argh!) and I will have to find some people to recommend me (double argh) But yeah, I feel good about doing this.

The real world sucks. I have no immediate place in it. Grad School here I come.

Leaving Baggage Behind.

I am very sick. Very very sick. So sick that i've already called out from work tomorrow because my head hurts so bad I am worried that my brain is bleeding. Yes, I know that is not a possibility but damn it all to hell if I don't feel like crap.

There has been a bug going around for a while but I know that I got this current bug from Angie. She came over this weekend with an awful cold. She tossed and turned the whole night and then proceeded to wipe her nose with various things that were not napkins. I almost gagged.

Now I am sick. Too sick to do much of anything. It feels like that time last year when I had the flu. My throat, head and bones just feel awful. And I hate that after a lackluster trip I now have a cold to top things off.

Okay I have to take some of that back. The weekend was pretty good. Angie and I went to the Strand and bought a crap load of books followed by a trip to the Guggenheim and an art festival. After a year apart we fell into everything so quickly, it was hard to believe we hadn't hung out since May 2009.

But. My friendship with Angie revolved around our mutual disdain for working at the bookstore and life being a crap fest. I realize now that the reason we got along so well at the time was because we were unhappy with our life. Misery loves company and we liked each other because of it.

But the moment she moved to DC our friendship sort of fell to shit. We text each other every few months and sometimes say how much we miss each other on facebook. But when she came down this weekend it wasn't like I yearned to be around her. We continued to talk about post grad struggles and general anxieties about life. But I got the sense that she hangs on to our friendship because I am doing worse than her. That I am that friend, that we all have, that you sort of keep around because as long as there life is worse than yours you don't feel so crappy.

She'd ask me about work, or how much I made, or how much I had to pay for rent and how difficult it must be for me. But it was with this tone of 'I'm glad it's not me'. She even said that at one point when I gave her a tour of my 'crib' she said 'i didn't think about renting a room before i left. I should have. or maybe not'. What the hell does that mean.

So while the day went well, I couldn't help but fell dragged down by some of her comments. And that there must be a little part of her that likes me only because I am not doing as well as her. That she has one friend she can come and visit and look down on. I could be overreacting and being overly emotional but that is what this whole weekend felt like.

AND she gave me a cold. I plan on sleeping all day tomorrow and watching Netflix because of it.

Thanks Angie

Uploads from the City.

Here are a few shots from my day in the city with Angie. I had a really good time. The day wasn't without it's hiccups but for the most part I enjoyed myself. The morning started pretty well but towards the end of the trip Angie started having random bouts of... freak outs. Naturally she is a very 'spacey' sort of 'frantic' person. But that combined with general angst and often times preoccupation with other things (texting) was a little too much for me.

We went to The Strand (awesome), The Guggenheim (not awesome) and about five Starbucks. There was an art festival/farmers market and concert in Union Square and I was creatively inspired by the city. We ate a bunch of inexpensive but tasty food and walked several blocks of new york streets.

The day was sans any of the weird drama the news was predicting (where we were anyway) and we spent about ten hours in the city. All and all it was a good day and I have a bunch of books to sort through from the three hours we spent at the Strand. Like I need anymore books in my room.

More pictures to come.

Weekend Plans.

A few weeks ago Angie asked if she could come up to visit me in New York the second week of September.



A quick recap. Angie was my first real new york friend (and of course she is from Kansas. Because everyone who lives here isn't from here). She started working at the bookstore after being laid off from an archive job and spent a good 8 months slaving away at the bookstore with me. When I say we immediately became friends, I mean it. I introduced myself to her as soon as I saw her, and it was like a moment of 'we are totally going to be friends aren't we?'. As simple as pie.



It's so weird that I am often criticized for not hanging out with people from work when there was a time when Angie and I hung out every day. From movies, to coffee dates to late night drives around the area, she was my partner in crime. We made Obama cupcakes for goodness sakes! When she relocated to DC for a real job I knew that my social activity would go from 'something to do every day with someone I liked' to 'damn I have nothing to do and no where to go'



We've been trying to set up a weekend when I can come down to Dc or her to New York for a year now but our plans always fell throw. But when she asked back in August if she could come up just for a weekend of hanging out, I immediately thought 'hell yeah'.



But shit. Now that weekend in question is upon me and I am a little nervous. August was a really bad month and this last week has been hell in every way shape or form. She asked if I could house her in my room and at first I was like 'I don't know I don't really have the space". But it wouldn't make sense for her to come to New York and stay with another friend if her intention is to spend the weekend with me. And by moving my bed I've created enough space in my room for her to crash without it being weird.



But I guess I am not use to housing people or better yet 'entertaining people' for longer than a few hours. Even friends. And now she is going to be here in New York and in my room for the whole weekend. I came up with a cool list of things we could do this weekend all involving a trip to the city. But yeah, of all the weekends to gallivant around the city like young twenty something year olds,this weekend is going to be the most appropriate time to do that especially because of the memorials and protests that will take place on Saturday.



There are plenty of things we can do around town. I think. But I guess I am more concerned about those dreaded awkward silences that may arise throughout this two day weekend. Sure we both have plenty to say to one another. So much has happened in the year since she moved that there will be plenty of things to discuss. But I can't help but wonder if our friendship thrived off of the misery that we both felt (and I still feel) working at the bookstore. Don't get me wrong this chick is amazing. She loves Dorothy Parker, is a complete foodie, can have intellectual conversations with me about romance novels ( I am obsessed with analyzing this genre) and has been to Scotland. And the night she asked me if I wanted to go on a drive with her because 'it helps me think' I knew that I loved this girl. Hardcore.

But I worry nonetheless that I will be boring and she will regret having wanted to come up.

Regardless of my nerves, I've cleaned my room exceptionally well today (where is my mom to reward me for this) and am stoked to see Angie tomorrow. I have to work from 10-6 and she won't be into town until 9 but we plan on grabbing dinner at our favorite diner around the corner where hamburgers are sure to be consumed. If she isn't too tired we may even go for a late night drive.

Outside of my nervousness I realize how much I really want to relax this weekend and just have a good time with an old friend. I feel like my mind, life and emotional state has gone to shit ever since I returned from vacation and being able to forgo the seriousness of my life for 48 hours will do some good.

First Day of Kindergarten...Again.

I'd like to interrupt my slew of depressive posts to talk about my cousins first day of Kindergarten.



My relationship with my aunt is mending nicely. The suckassness of being 'asked out' of her home still makes me stomach drop but I refuse to let any animosity between her stop me from seeing my cousin Michelle.



This kid is freaking amazing and I am not saying this because I am a little biased. Alright, I lied I am totally biased but I generally don't find all kids to be awesome, so i'm a good judge in the 'is your kid horrible' department. Some kids, having worked in the children's department for six months now, can be little shits. I attribute this to their parents because I have literally wanted to curse out some of these heathens that walk into the store. When they aren't trashing the place (something I blame on the parents naturally) they are rude little buggers.



And Michelle is not perfect. She has thrown many a tantrums in the past. You couldn't take her to a store (target) without her losing her shit over something. But I don't know. The little kid I knew two years ago has...matured into this awesome 5 year old. Where I would have to once force hugs out of her she now gives them away freely . She is smart and intuitive and she asks a bunch of questions about the world around her. She is a girly girl who is not afraid to get dirty and her imagination is endless.



I love this kid and some of my fondest memories of New York revolve her. So when my aunt got in contact with me to say that Michelle wanted me to go to her first day of Kindergarten with her, my heart did the opposite of breaking into a million little sad pieces. Instead it burst into shards of happiness.



Last weekend I went with her and my aunt for student teacher orientation. It was a Girls Day Extravaganza. Michelle (and my aunt surprisingly) was so happy to see me and show me her purple room and crayons and dolls and...well you get the point. She is attending the Elementary school I went to as a kid, right around the corner from their house. It's a 15 minute walk and the whole way we talked about how cool going to school was going to be. She held my hand the whole way and asked if we could get pizza afterwards. Naturally my aunt and I were not opposed to this.



Orientation went well. We met her teacher, showed her around the classroom and she even met a new friend. After pizza I assured Michelle and my aunt that I would get up bright an early next Tuesday (today) to take Michelle to her first day of School. I wouldn't miss it for the world.



Getting up this morning after a closing shift though was pretty rough though. I sat my alarm to 6:30 so that I could shower and eat before heading to my aunts house. I was going to walk but I live on the other side of town so I opted for a cab.



I am going to skip the extensive hell that whole cab ride was. Lets just say he drove me to the wrong address and then started screaming at me about being 'daft' for not paying attention. This is where I completely lost it on this guy and demanded that he take me back to my house because I wasn't going to get in an argument with him and that if he wanted to provide great service he should never ,ever, speak to anyone the way he spoke to me. He sort of apologized and then offered to drive me to the correct address (after I asked him to take me back to my original address like 5 times). I relented but ended the conversation with ' I will be contacting your supervisor this whole thing was unprofessional. You probably have a daughter my age and I bet you wouldn't talk to her the way you just spoke to me'. Um. can we say bad ass moment of the day. Yay me!



Anyway, when I got to my aunts house (after cursing out a cabbie's manager) Michelle was just getting ready. She was dressed in a skirt and a cute cardigan isque shirt with knee socks and mary jane shoes. We all headed to school and talked about Hanna Montana and the Jonas Brothers. Michelle was a little more nervous then usual on the walk to school (despite attending summer camp there) and I kept touching her face and saying 'you are going to do fine Kiddo'. When we got to school the parking lot was crazy with parents and crying kids and it felt like an uncomfortable circus scene.



Michelle is a very brave girl by all standards. She has a tendency of behaving as if she is much older than her 5 years. I catch myself having to remind her that though she is a 'big girl' she is still a 'little girl' and there's nothing wrong with that. But because she is often very self sufficient and looks much older than most 5 year old (she is pretty tall) I sometimes lose sight of the fact that she is going to Kindergarten. Kindergarten! How were we ever that young?



Michelle held it together for the most part. But as soon as we stopped in front of the building to take 'classic first day of school photo's' she sort of had that 'what's next' look on her face. She wasn't afraid per se but there was definitely some apprehension on her part. Like she just realized that she was going to school for the first time ever. Her eyes sort of glazed with a wide eyed amazement and a mixture of confusion. Like she finally realized this was a big deal. A huge deal.

We took one more photo of her outside and she sort of lingered on the steps for a moment. I asked her is she was ready and that moment of fear passed before her. As quickly as it had come it was gone and replaced with excitement and...assurance that everything was going to be okay. She looked up at me and said quite proudly 'yeah I'm ready' and then slapped my hand so hard the silly band ring she gave me earlier flew off my finger.

They made us hoard her into the auditorium where all the kindergartners were to meet and be dispersed from. Before sitting down she waved to some of her friends from camp and then took her place between an equally freaked out kid. Before leaving we reminded her of her teachers name and to follow an adult with a badge and that her mom would be there to pick her up from school and the nurses office was steps away if she ever got hurt and...but she interrupted and took her book bag off to get comfortable in her chair ' i know' she said with this wayward sort of confidant sort of nervous smile on her face. 'I know".

And then we left. It was over and the Belle (my nickname for her) was starting her first day of Kindergarten. Her first day of the rest of her life. And it's so weird, you know, ever thinking that you were once that small with such 'small' fears as starting a brand new school and becoming a 'big girl'. But I'm starting to think that not much has changed since I was her age, since that day I realized that 'today' was the beginning of something great.

The last few weeks have been rough. I have had a horrible time of ups and downs, regrets and acceptances and straight up frustration with my life. I can't figure out who I am suppose to be, or what I am suppose to be doing. I have this idea of myself, I have this general image of my life but how to make that an actuality is difficulty. I don't even feel like I am at a crossroads because that would denote that I had a million and one different opportunities awaiting me. It's a different sort of feeling.

My favorite story in the whole entire world is "We're Going On A Bear Hunt" which describes in a melodic cadence a family venturing from their house to explore the world outside. They encounter long wavy grass, a deep cold river and thick oozy mud on their way to the cave. And at each 'obstacle' they realise that can't go over, they can't go under it....but they have to go through it. If they want the adventure and all. And that is what my life feels like now. That I am not at a crossroads of sorts but rather at a point where in the journey where I am unsure of how to move forward. I obviously can't find some short cut around my feelings of stasis I have trudge through it if I want to continue.

And going to the First Day of Kindergarten with Michelle reminded me that life isn't too different from childhood. Outside of not having momentous days (kindergarten, first slumber party, turning 13, turning 16 )to mark a new phase of life, everyday is the beginning of the rest of your life. And it's fucking scary because it's suppose to be. Because you'd have to be inhuman to not fear becoming a person you don't hate. A person you can look at in the mirror and not regret.

And I currently understand that look in Michelle eyes before we led her into the auditorium. That 'who they hell are all these people and what am I suppose to do next' stare that I couldn't help trying to console. But it wasn't necessarily fear she was experiencing, it wasn't necessarily a look of preparation to flee. It was sort of shock and awe at being a person, and becoming someone, and not understanding what's next but being apprehensive, confidant, and assured that things will eventually be okay.

'I know' they will.

I've Run Into A Wall.

Jesus, I had a colossal breakdown today. Colossal thanks to the five hours of sleep I got last night.

There was a time, when I was eighteen, when I literally thought I was losing my mind. I understand now that I was simply an eighteen year old girl. It's normal to hate your mom and life and look for ways of perpetual escape.

But based on my current emotional and mental state, I want to punch 18 year old me in the face for ever thinking that I was crazy then. 'Look at me now' I want to scream 'this is what crazy looks like. this is what it actually feels like'. My mind is very muddled these days. I can't concentrate on anything. I can't see beyond the hour or even the minute. I find that I am not happy with things and because of this I don't know how to react to things.

So maybe this has something to do with the failure that is PNJ and maybe it has something to do with Heather getting a crappy teaching job (and waving it in front of all of our faces. guess who came into for a cup of coffee. because you know there are no other coffee places in her town) but there has to be something else. There has to be for me to feel this bad.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not going to jump off the Brooklyn Bridge or anything. Or start being mournful to the point where I start saying 'have my computer and printer, I'm not going to need those things anymore in the afterlife' but i am...depressed. I am sad. I am grieving over losses that small and big.

I am doing my best to keep my head up. I dance as much as I can. I sing as loudly as I can. And I play around with writing to keep my sane. But going to work has become a chore. Being the happy smiley all my shits together girl is not cutting it anymore. The changes in the store are beyond ridiculous. We are short staffed and overworked, and all the new people they've hired have quit within days of being hired.

Because of this the rest of us are spread thin. Very thin. I've worked six days straight one week and I am clocking in +35 hours in that store. I know, I know. A real job would require that much of a commitment. But I'm not making real job money and I have to deal with customers who are jackasses. A guy today went on a 'this is why amazon is more convenient' spiel because there was only one copy of a book he wanted in the store and he couldn't understand why our inventory was shitty ( not that I'm a spokesperson for the bookstore I work at or anything but if you are ordering from a warehouse of course there are going to be more things in stock...asshole). Yeah. My job is great.

Anyway, the point is that not only I am unhappy with the way things are going but working at a crappy job where my skills can't be utilized and people talk to you as if you didn't graduate middle school, is quite the soul sucker. I just don't enjoy being there anymore. Everyone expects me to come in with a huge smile on my face and some optimistic we can do it gang speech but I just can't anymore. Because while I am cheering on the team I am slowly feeling more miserable about my own state of affairs. So I'm done cheering for them now. I just want to move on.

And then today happened. Which was just a big giant mess of a day that I never want to repeat. I had to close last night and then open this morning. We didn't get out of the store until 12:45 last night, I got home at 1:15. I couldn't get to sleep until 2:00 because I always get some weird sort of energy after working late. Then I had to wake up six hours later to get ready for my shift at 10.

Bullshit.

As I was on my way to work tired, hungry and depressed I heard a noise coming from an abandoned building I pass everyday. A month and a half ago an Indian restaurant caught on fire in my town. They were open for like 20 years and were a local favorite. The day it burned to the ground a huge crowd of people stood across the street and watched. It was one of the hottest days of this summer and Josh said it best that the weather was leading up to something like that. That in some weird way something had to burn to relieve the tension the heat caused. I don't know, it made sense at the time. I remember telling him that too.

The Indian restaurant ended up burning to the ground taking with it four other businesses. It was pretty brutal and the only building that survived was one that has been abandoned for years. Go figure. I pass this building every day to go to work and today as I was getting ready to make my turn to head towards the job I hear what I believed to be a baby crying. At first the sound was too low and I thought it was in the distance, but as I got further away the sound of crying turned out to be the sound of howling from a cat trapped in the building.

I look up to the second floor to see this terribly skinny, white cat with black spots pushing his face up against the window and howling from the second floor. It was the saddest thing that I've ever seen. I tried to open the door of the building it was locked and boards covered the only other entrance. There weren't any windows on the ground floor, just these wall length glass walls. As I tried to find a way in, the cat kept yelling while I struggled with my want to help it and my apprehension of going to jail. Of course 20 minutes pass and I can't find any other way into the damn building to... I don't know....rescue the cat. By then I'm running late and the cat has given up hope. It does one small meow and then falls away from the window defeated.

My heart broke. I am a very claustrophobic person. I hate being caged in any aspect of the word. And to me being lost in a big giant place is the same as being trapped in a small space. And here was this very scraggly and hungry kitty, meowing with all of his strength for someone to rescue him. I know this meow very well. It's almost a wail. Cats do it when they can't get out of a room or are stuck. It's a horrible noise.

And the moment I saw this cat pressing his face up against the window I made some absurd connection to my own life. That, like Luke ( i named him) I am in this grand big place without any foreseeable exit. That someone has simply locked me into this situation and thrown away the key. And I am too tired from trying to claw my way out of the situation, of trying to find a way out, to do anything else except wail for someone to come and save me.

By the time I get to work I was almost late and completely tired, depressed and beyond stressed about the cat. I call the number listed on the building hoping to reach the Realtor. But that number was old and the person I spoke to had no idea what I was talking about. I then attempted to call the humane society or the vet's office because I didn't know what else to do. I end up calling the non-emergency line of the police department (there is actually a line, i found it in the phone book) and explain the situation to a what I think is a very disinterested police officer.

The rest of the day is a miserable blur. I cried in the bathroom, I dragged my ass around work, and I couldn't even fake a smile. I honestly don't know how to make things better maybe because I don't know what I want. I see these girls my age walking around talking about trips to Amsterdam that they can't remember and I go 'what the hell am I doing wrong'. When will I know that I am on the right path to something. Because right now I feel like a starving and scared cat trapped in a really big building with no idea how to get out.

I need something to happen quick. I'm not sure I can handle anymore of this. And I know things will get better. But I just wish something would make these miserable days less miserable.

~Becks

Oh,

Around lunch time though I went back to the building to see if the cat was still there, and great Scots there were men outside the building surveying the area. The front door was wide open and a police car was parked across the street. When I went up to ask what was going on they said they were there because they received a call from a concerned citizen about a cat trapped in a building.

Scraggly Kitty is safe!