Blizzard 2010.

Holy Smokes. I wanted snow but I wasn't expecting this much snow.

The last week was overwhelming busy. I'll just have to come to grips with the fact that working in retail will forever make me dislike the holidays, just a little. I won't be as bad of a scrooge as I was this year. But I will have a little PSD anytime I step at a checkout line.

I am struck by how predictable people are. Retail reminds you of the horrors of consumerism and the bane of our existence is wrought with ungrades. Every year a new item comes out that children, adults, and those of us in the middle NEED. It turns everyday good people into savages. I am not a person who constantly needs an upgrade. I've had the same tv, glasses, dvd, phone plan and ipod for the last five years. I don't see the point in having an Ipad or an e-reader. I don't need tv on my phone or the interweb at my fingertips.

I'm not that complicated. Give me a paperback book, my simple ipod and some warm pajama pants and I am set for life. This year people came out in hoards to shop for Christmas presents. It was disheartening, and stressful and a bunch of the seasonal employees crumbled under the pressure. The rest of us defended ourselves against rude customers, crying babies, and one kid who threw up all over customer service. We hugged it out in the break room and sang songs of survival.

And we talked about drinking. A lot.

On Thursday I had to open (8am to 4pm) but was able to spend the rest of the night and Christmas morning at my aunts house. Our relationship is mending. The whole fiasco of last year is still pretty painful but I love hanging out with my baby cousin. She is five now and her personality is infectious. When my aunt asked if I wanted to spend the holidays with them all I could think about was Michelle. How awesome it would be to help her open presents.

When I got to my aunts house, all three of them (Michelle, aunt and Chris) were camped out on the couch watching cheesy movies. Michelle almost knocked over as she hugged me to the ground. We spent the rest of the night baking cupcakes and drawing pictures. I even helped her make her first real story book. She came up with the characters, story and pictures herself. I just wrote every choppy five year old sentence down. She squealed with excitement when I told her to sign her name after the finished product. I am nurturing a creative kid in the making.

On Christmas day I could only stay until noon because I was scheduled to work 7am the next day at Le Sad Store. My aunt had to work Christmas so it was just Michelle, Chris and I. I wanted to be able to help Michelle open up all her presents, followed by setting up all her toys to play with. She got a Leapfrog device which she played for the majority of the morning while I braided the hair of some Rapunzel-isue doll.

Being around her eliminated all the scrooge like sentiments for me and by Sunday even though I had to get to work at an ungodly hour because Le Sad Store had to mark down all of the holiday items, I was giddy all day. So people were still assholes once the store opened. So I was completely exhausted and drained from having to work so early. But that didn't matter because getting to play Just Dance for Kids with a uncoordinated five year old is the bees knees of pick me ups.

Everyone else did not share this same giddiness. Kat and some others (who usually don't work weekends) had to come in and were miserable looking. Blue was there and he showed off his very cool feather hat but sulked most of the day as well. I do adore boys with interesting fashion however and asked him to model it on during our lunch break. It was cute. McAbs however was in a horrible mood, per usual. I asked him how Christmas was and he replied 'I drank, a lot". When i asked why he said 'because it's Christmas. it's what we do at home'.

Alright then.

However during my break as I was talking to my mom on the phone McAbs walked down the aisle where I was lingering and bent down to kiss me. I kid you not!!!!!!! Evident by how many exclamations points I used. He kissed me ya'll!!!

It was a small peck, soft and unplanned one, as if there was an imaginary mistletoe over our heads. It took me off guard (soft lips, unshaven face, boy smell, blushed cheeks). It lasted less than 3 seconds. But holy crap. A kiss from the boy I was not expecting one from. He then walked away as if nothing had happened and said 'merry Christmas Beckett". No words. No words at all.

I played it off very cool around the rest of the day. I didn't mention the kiss. He didn't mention the kiss. We talked about Just Dance and he said I was the only nice person at work. I said he wasn't too shabby when he wasn't sulking around and being a turd. We will not mention it at all, I guess. It will remain something he did unexpectantly, my cheeks will just have to de-blush themselves.But when I got home, I did bring my hand up to my mouth just where his grazed mine. What a weird boy.

And THEN I got presents from my best friend at work. In a very cute Christmas bag I got a doctor who nerd fans greatest gift....A sonic screwdriver! I nearly cried from happiness and then felt guilty because I didn't get him anything (I'll spend the next few days surfing the net for superman related gifts. any ideas will be greatly appreciated).

Today there is about 20 inches of snow on the ground. I am still going to work ( I freakig hate retail) but combined with my presents, hanging out with Michelle, and a kiss from McAbs I am feeling the holiday spirit all of a sudden. Or I am just high off of all the love.

Thank You Blizzard 2010.

To Be A Bear.

It's really really cold outside.



I had to go to the Post Office today to pick up a box to ship some presents home and I almost ran back inside once I realized how cold it was outside. 19 degrees was our high today. 19. I didn't even know temperature like that existed. The Post Office isn't even that far from my house but the chill here is enough to make me want to stay inside all day curled underneath piles of blankets and pillows.



I have seriously considered going into hibernation more times than usual this year. The thought of staying inside a warm enclosed space until the sun comes back out would be delightful. I already hoard food. The shelf below my mini fridge is awesome. Cereal, saltine crackers, cookies, soup, and boxes of hot chocolate. I have my computer, music, plenty of books from my trip to The Strand and netflix so i wouldn't have to worry about lack of entertainment. And I'm a bit of a loner anyway so limited contact by phone and emails will make up for the lack of interaction with people.



This is something to consider. I wonder if I'd get paid time off for this?



I am a huge fan of winter. Don't get me wrong. I have never gotten seasonal depression. I excel in cold weather and I find snow to be beautiful. I feel an attachment towards the snow like no one else. I am not even jaded yet with having to travel in it.



A couple of days ago we got our first real snow storm and I reacted like any other 24 year old. I tilted my head on the walk home and tried to catch snowflakes on my tongue. I then made a heart shaped snow trail in someones yard.



Do you know when I was a baby I almost died. One night I got a fever so bad that I went into some weird shock while in my moms arms. My mom freaked the fuck out naturally when she saw that I was having difficulties breathing and running a dangerously high fever. It was also the night of the first real snow storm in New York(or at least that is what my very dramatic storytelling mom says)



For reasons she cannot explain, she carried my very on the 'verge of death' self outside, into the freezing cold where the snow had accumulated a few inches. She dropped to her knees and with me in her arms and pressed me into the snow. She says it was the first thing that came to her mind while waiting for the ambulance to come. That I just needed to be in and of the snow to lower my fever. To shock my senses.



And you know what? Within seconds lifeless me stirred awake. I cried in her arms while she cried against my head. I still went to the hospital and was given antibiotics for what I believe was my first real encounter with Scarlet Fever. But that story remains a winter tale for the ages in my family. And why I believe the snow and I are intertwined for life.

See. The cold and I are wicked good friends.



But that doesn't mean I am still not over December 2010. I would still like to hibernate for a while. Squirrels do it. And so do Bears. Bears! How i would like to curl into a very tight ball and remain there for the duration of December. I'll come up for air, food and entertainment when necessary. I promise.


This month has just taken a huge toll on me. I have a weird case of homesickness combined with a restlessness that keeps me up at night. I didn't get to bed until 3am the other morning (where I watched a marathon of a show called 1 Girl, 5 Gays on Logo. It was actually pretty hilarious). I'm apprehensive about sleep. Because that means waking up. And waking up means worrying about the things that keep me up at night.

I am so ready for 2011. The new year cannot come fast enough. This holiday season is dragging by and I am all kinds of over it. On the list of things I'll ask for this Christmas, a break is one of them. A break from my routine, a break from the worries of money, rent, job, boys and life. A small hibernating break for a few months; just until I am better equipped at dealing with everything.

Is it 2011 Yet?

This December I am feeling extraordinarily stressed. Let me rephrase that. I am feeling extraordinarily stressed, anxious, broke, tired andcranky this December.

I loved being home for Thanksgiving, but the stress from spending all that money to go home is smacking me in the face. I did not get paid for the week that I was gone and now Christmas, rent, student loans are around the corner and I am just not feeling it. At all. My wallet is stretched thin and I wish more than ever that I had a crappy entry level job that pays more than minimum wage.

I have sort of been dragging around the last two weeks in a daze. I applied to five jobs in one day last week and am worrying about money more than I am use to. When I am not feeling broke I feel disconnected from everything and one around me.

Recently a guy whose been at the store for six years was ordered to take personal leave because the managers think he is losing it. I am friendly with said guy, Dave, and was sort of taken aback that he won't be at the store for a while due to this leave. He is often moody at work and doesn't listen to the managers that much. He has a very dry sense of humor with childish tendencies towards gossip.

But to me he is manageable. He does his work, he interacts to people that he likes and he leaves Laffy Taffy on his desk that we are all welcomed to take. And now he is on 'personal leave'. I asked him what this mean when he stopped by this weekend to finish up some Christmas shopping and he said the managers thought needed a break from the job because his behavior was becoming destructive. Whatever that means.

I have felt more crazy than not most days. I am moody and unpredictable. I am shock full of passion and intensity. I think too much and am affected so easily by my environment that it can be infuriating to some. And one of my biggest fears in life is someone telling me that I can't hack it anymore. That my cracks are beginning to bled through and that I may need to take some time off to figure things out.

My biggest fear is not being crazy or strange or weird. I've got that done to a science. My biggest fear is that the parts of me that are neurotic and strange (anxious and spacey) will exclude me from society. That some day some one or some organization will decided to banish me because I have off days every once in awhile. That's what is feels like the did to Dave. And seeing that the last two weeks have not been great for me either I worry that I am losing it akin to an exhaustive breakdown. I just need a break, maybe even a personal one but i'd like to make that decision myself rather than it being imposed on me,

I am managing as best as I am, but some days are worse than others. On Saturday I closed with a bunch of new people who were all getting along and enjoying there time together. I felt distant and alone and when McAbs came to say hi after being at work for five hours I walked away sullenly and told him I wanted to be by myself. Like a cat I crave attention when I am ready to have my belly rubbed but the moment I want to be left alone I could care less if no one is around me.

Kat and Ricky were hamming it up at customer service, the new people were being all new and jovial, McAbs was running around talking to the guys in the music department and I felt abandoned. I felt uninteresting and perhaps that is why I was all by myself. And by the time anyone did realize I was at work, I already felt dejected and second best so I shunned their attention.

I am a curious complex girl. I wonder if I will be like this always.

In other very random news Blue invited me to his New Years Eve party this year. He asked me rather nicely the other day while I was heading into the break room. He said that he knows I don't drink a lot but that he was having a very relaxed party with some friends from school (and employees at Le Sad Store). He is renting a hotel room downtown where the party will be held and that I was completely invited to come: 'you don't even have to drink if you don't want to. you could bring the notebook you are always writing in and everything'.

Though I am very hesitant towards parties and large crowds, I think a social outing will do me some good. Plus Blue is throwing it. Our relationship is very....strange. He is a nice, funny, interesting guy who I hang out with a lot. On Friday we were going to go to a mutual friends house to watch movies and such but when that friend had to cancel plans Blue didn't mind coming to the grocery store with me as I piled my basket with frozen pizza and boxed juice.

We are goofy and dorky around one another and I rarely find myself becoming distant towards him. I am playful and spontaneous (i may have initiated a wrapping paper sword fight in the snow) and he touches my head affectionately, a lot. But I have on idea what we are doing. Like if he does like me when will he admit this and I don't mean in a cryptic 'you have sparkly brown eyes way'. And I'm still trying to figure out how I like him. I mean he is very attractive and easy to talk to. Last weekend he looked dapper and fit in gray slacks and a black sweater. I watched him (oh, embarrassed now) saunter away and got all kinds of blushy and flustered.

But how do i like him? As a very cute friend. Or as this potential something nice. I do not know. But I am going to his New Years Eve party. Definitely. I will not bail and come up with some lame ass excuse.

I won't.

Snow!!!

It's snowing outside and I am uber excited.

That is all.

Ms. Lack of Follow Through

So remember that girl Jenn? The one who planned and executed Nerd Day 2010?



Well don't tell anyone but we are planning on moving into together. Don't worry. I am not moving in with her anytime soon but the thought of getting a place together in the city has crossed our minds more than once.



See, she is graduating from college in May and because she already has a teaching gig in the city she wants to live closer to her job in June. Because I am confident (or hopeful) that by the Spring I will have my own very own job (any job), working in the city and commuting from where I currently live would be a pain. I mean, I could do it but why spent 3.5 hours traveling to a from the city everyday when I can cut traveling cost and time by living closer.



And despite the high cost of living in NYC there are neighborhoods that border the main part of the city that are reasonable. With a roommate I could live in a two bedroom apartment for about 650/month (excluding utilities). And by June, with job in tow, I too would be looking for a place closer to my job. From this, we decided that because we know each other well enough share a space, that we could potentially move into together.



If our (my) plans work out that is.

And in all honesty, despite how lucky I got with my current housing situation, I am excited about potentially moving in with Jenn this summer. She is responsible, smart, and nerdtiffic. She has an awesome library of books, she's an anthropology major and witty as hell. I adore her. She's a close enough friend where I am comfortable sharing an apartment with but not...Marie. Who I love but could not room with.



She is worried though because despite showing an immense interest in moving in with her she has heard from Kat and Josh that I lack 'follow through". That come May she definitely is moving into the city and that she would really like to be roomies with me because among other things 'our library would be awesome'. But in so many words I can tell she was voicing her concerns that I would bail on her.

I of course reminded her that without a financially stable job I wouldn't move all the way to the city to work retail. But that as long as I had a job come Spring, I definitely have every intention of moving into an apartment with her. For serious.

But it is a little discerning to hear that I am known as Ms. Lack of Follow Through because of my...well my lack of follow through. I have no one to blame but myself. I am a loner by trade. I hang out with who I want to when I want to and I rarely make myself do any sort of activity I am not comfortable with. With Jenn or Angie or Cello Girl I was completely present to their friendship. I never bailed. I always wanted to hang out and be around them.

I hate that this is a blip in every one's memories. That before I was friends with them I hung out with Angie and Cello girl every weekend. That I was, with them, a very socially present girl. That I enjoyed our weekends camped out watching movies and baking cupcakes.

That just because I do not hold the same affection for them has nothing to do with my lack of follow through. That just because I do not want to edit Josh's dumb stories or hang out with Kat who flirts with every decent looking guy doesn't mean that I am a girl who lacks...the motivation to act.

I just do not have the same connection with the current people I hang out with. Not because I don't like them but because I am not always sure of their interest in me as a friend. I am not sure of anything.

But it doesn't mean that I am not a follow througher (new word!). It doesn't mean that I am slack ass. It doesn't mean that I am not busting my butt to make things work here, for me. And just because I decide not to hang out with them every time a new bar open doesn't mean...anything.

except when it does.

This has been a very anxious week for me. I am frustrated, tired and broke. Yesterday I applied to 5 jobs hoping that one will call me in the next few weeks. And don't get me started on the writing process. I've attempted to create a writing schedule for myself in order to finish a short story or two. But my mind is very muddled. Writing is the easiest and most difficult thing for me. I've only just started writing short stories 3 years ago and I am finding the format difficult. My wordiness and internalization of feelings rather than description of actions is not translating well to the short story format. And i find myself throwing pens in frustration.

And I now I can't stop hearing Josh and Kat's stupid voice saying that I can't commit to anything as I stare at a very blank word document. I can't help but question if I am actually a person who cannot commit fully to something with bailing rather quickly.

Maybe it's a title I deserve after all.

Not Up to It.

I don't know what's wrong with me. I am feeling a little...unfocused these days.

By unfocused, I mean I am so not up for doing much of anything these days. People keep commenting that I look 'tired' and I can't even disagree with me. I am sort of tired, like I've been running a marathon for quite some time now and I just need a break. A tiny one.

I can't even say that I am in a funk. It doesn't feel like one. I am not feeling depressed or even particularly sad. I am a little stressed about money and job related things but I am use to that.

I am just feeling blah. I am not excited about a lot of things lately. I could literally care less about Christmas this year and I am seriously bored by the routine my life has fallen into.

Today I had the day off, and though I promised myself I would send out some applications and try my hand at writing a few pages of my short story, I stayed in bed most of the day trying to take a nap.

But I couldn't even do that. I feel unfocused. So unfocused that even sleep is difficult. I don't know what to do to pick my spirits up. I was thinking about going ice skating and there is this Edward Hopper Exhibit at the Whitney that I was contemplating. But I just don't know.

I need to do something though before this blah does because a funk.

First Impressions are Everything.

So a couple of weeks ago I thought I had an amazing opportunity to reapply to the company that did not hire me back in August. I don't want to re-live the nightmare that was that interview process but for reminders sake let me sum it up in a few sentences:

During my internship with Lenny I travelled, a lot, to this 'amazing' production sales and rental company in the West Village. In August I saw an ad for an opening in their company with the sales department. I applied that day and received a call on my phone a few days later inviting me in for an interview. However, I personally did not receive said voicemail until a week and a half later, after checking my phone for missed messages. I called the HR Manager immediately to apologize and possibly schedule an interview. But I could not reach this chick for another full week and when I did finally reach her she said had no intention of calling me in for an interview because of my 'lack of professionalism'

Some how I managed to convince her to just let me come in anyway. Mistakes happen but my attempts to reach her in those weeks represented my complete interest in working for their company. She sighed. Scheduled me to come in the next day and you can read how that went down here. Despite everything I did to convince them otherwise, I did not get the job. Instead I got a .40 cent rejection letter wishing me luck.

So when I saw another opening at the company in the same department (just a different and lower paying position), I jumped at the opportunity to apply again. It's been 3 months since the disaster that was my first attempt. I've brushed up on my nerdy technology knowledge since then, and maybe the waters have calmed between me and the HR Manager. Plus, the job I applied to and was invited to interview for was a Sales Administrator gig. I don't even know how i got called in for this due to my lack of qualifications. The recent position I applied to a few weeks ago was for a Sales Assistant, a position I felt more qualified for.

But no.

After 3 weeks of sitting around, reading all my dumb camera related, production news web sites the position is no longer available. I didn't even get an interview for the position I was more qualified for. I cannot help but to take this to heart. I cannot help but feel like the misery that was the first interview has ruined my second chance. And to add insult to injury (a phrase I will be using a lot during this job hunt) they've posted another ad for another sales position just last night.

I grew up watching shows where the nerd protagonist (usually male) is obsessed with the hot popular counterpart (usually female) and spends the next ten seasons (or 90 minutes) pursuing the uninterested object of his/her obsession. I cannpt help but feel like the nerdy protagoinst right about now.

Interestingly enough though,towards the end of the season/series the nerd has pursued said romantic interest for so long that eventually she caves in and realizes her love for him after all this time. Maybe that is why I will forever be a heartbroken optimist. Damn the 90's,

Maybe all of those writers from the 90's read Pamela in college too. Because seriously that book is one fucked up mess of a story and if you haven't read it, you should just because it is absurd but continues to influence thematic arcs today. Sorry I just got a nerd revelation regarding the evolution of the Nerd in popular culture. I geeked out there for a moment and most remember to expand on my obsession with nerd culture.

In Pamela, a young servant girl is pursued by her employer Mr. B to the point of maniac obsession. He follows her around, reads her journal, hides in her closet while she is dressing. Bizarre stuff. At first Pamela is frightened by her employers advances. And she should be because Mr. B scores an 8 on the whack job scale. But towards the end of the first part of the novel Mr. B lessens his aggressive pursuit and suddenly Pamela realizes that she is in love with him. That is willing to give her heart to him. Or maybe she is suffering from the first case of Stockholm syndrome. I don't know.

But then you look at shows (and movies) like the Wonder Years, Family Matters, Saved By the Bell, My So Called Life, Edward Scissorhands, Freaks and Geeks, Pretty in Pink, which all use this same sad but all too true theme: A nerd (outcast;in various forms) pinning for someone he knows he can't have. And the moment he thinks he has lost her/him for good she realizes her love for him/her in return. It's not always the case but I will spend a couple of days working out the kinks of this argument.

What I am trying to say, in regards to this job, is that when I saw the opening last night I became excited and then pissed. My first reaction was "Oh My God, I should apply to this again" followed by "wait a minute...". I don't want to be Steve Urkel. Or Screech. Or Brian Krakow. Or worse Mr. B! Though in this scenario I feel like I am. I don't want to keep pinning for a love interest that keeps turning me down. While I still think this company is providing an amazing service to the production community, obviously I have been deemed 'unfit' to work for them. And I don't know if continuing to show an interst is well...in my best interest.

I mean when do actions go from dedication to desperation. To apply again this early on just reads desperation and I honestly don't know if I can (nor want to) invest any more energy in this company if I never have a chance.

What would Mr. B say? okay never mind what he would say. It would probably include the phrase 'rummage her while she is asleep that'll do the trick'. I do believe he did this in one scene.

Okay, better yet, what would Steve Urkel advise? Would he suggest to keep trying because eventually Laura will realize that despite the years she spent thinking you a nuisance she has grown to love you. That while the more qualified and attractive Stefan fits her more popular wholesome social mold, good old Steve Urkel has more character and heart than any Stefan Urqulle times two.

That in the end, try until you can't try anymore, unti he hurts too much to attempt, because she'll come around. She'll see the potential in you that you see in her. They always do.

I don't know.

I love being the nerd who pines for the way out of my league counterpart (Hello Brain Krakow. Though with all respect Angela was not out of his league). I love being the underdog. I love being the outcast who doesn't ever really belong. But I refuse to appear desperate, even if that is the case. Especially with this company.

I'm a little frustrated today. I feel stuck and without an exit strategy.

Or worse. I feel utterly resigned.

A Long December

Hello December. How I am so not ready for you. At all.



The last few days have been a blur. On Sunday having spent 15 hours of my life on a train, I crashed into a several long term naps. I had crazy dreams about work followed by bouts of sadness when I woke up, which usually happens after I travel back to New York from South Carolina.



Thanksgiving was amazing. I was only home for four days but I managed to spend enough time with my brother and mom to make up for the short stay. We played Just Dance 2 on the Wii and watched Boardwalk Empire Marathon until late in the night. My mom of course made more food then the three of us could stomach, and I still think there is leftovers somewhere in her fridge.

I spent much of Friday and Saturday lounging and reading The War of Art, which was recommended to me by someone at work. He lent me his worn tattered copy as long as I promised to bring it back from South Carolina. The book is only about 120 pages and is suppose to motivate my creativity (he said). I have a lot to say about this book. Some positive. Some negative. I found myself rolling my eyes more than not. Remind me to write a post about this in the near future. And about Hipsters. They are destroying america.

Since returning to New York I have readjusted to my life again. In the south I don't think I even attempted to wear suitable clothing. I wore my old grandpa pants and college t-shirt and spent most of my time home inside only venturing out at night to look at the stars.

There is always this weird readjustment period after I've been in the south for a while. The days right after I leave the comfort of my house, mom and brother are kind of hard and lonely. Where i have this super strong support system at home, I come back and realize that I am sort of alone physically in New York.


Sure I have friends here and there, but I don't really have anyone to rely on. I come back and I have to make sure that things are secure, safe and comfortable for me. At this stage in the game I am the only player on the court trying to manage everything so things don't fall apart. I am of course thankful for the friends that I have made and the life I created for myself but some days I can't help but wonder if I have made the right decision.

During these readjusting days from vacation, I contemplate my move to New York. I wonder if I have made the right decision in choosing to live here. It's been two years since I graduated college and I wonder if the path I am on is the right one, especially because I often feel stuck at a very long red light. And facebook doesn't help either. Sure most of my 'friends', especially from South Carolina, are married and updating their statuses with 'baby number 2 on the way. my life is great!'. So yeah, I am not envious of them obviously but there are others whose life I can't help but compare myself to. Whose paths 'seem' paved in gold.

And I often wonder if I should have taken that left instead of heading right. If I should have taken another route instead of this one.

Case in Point:

On the train from South Carolina we stopped in Philadelphia for a little while and I was struck by memories of my short stay there. Looking back on it now Philly is like a really attractive, compatible, interesting guy who I never gave a shot to despite the promise and possibility we possessed together. When I applied to college my senior year of high school I choose schools in Philly because I was attracted to the city. From it's history and culture to sense of community and promise of Brotherly Love. The small university I eventually went to set atop rolling hills on the outskirts of Philadelphia and had that little bit of Northern pretentiousness that I like.

The week or so that I was there, before withdrawing from the university due to financial reasons, were not as bad as I made them out to be. But because I was nervous, sullen, scared and 18 I didn't even try to make my life in Philly work. The moment tuition became an issue I saw my opportunity to run away. I didn't even try to come up with a solution.

Everyone was so nice and supportive that week. From my roommates, to RA's, to every other very nervous freshman away from home for the first time in their lives. But I sort of pushed them away. My roommates were worried that I was spending too much time alone. The RA's saw that I was not adjusting well and suggested activities for me to participate in. I was assigned a floor buddy even, so that I wouldn't feel left out. I am okay with admitting now that I was probably that weird roommate no one could relate to. The weird one who people whispered about. The girl the RA's had to keep an extra eye on just in case shit hit the fan. And I wasn't helping with how sullen and distant I was that week.

I did have a small group of friends the first couple of days though, they just lived in another dorm. We met during one of the freshman orientation sessions the first day and hung out for a good while afterwards. The school was so small that the freshman class could be divided into majors for specific orientation related meetings. At a 'Biology Majors" seminar thing, I met a short girl with curly hair who I immediately latched on to out of comfort. We had to sit next to each other during a lecture and she complimented my James Dean bag. We did the weird awkward 'since I don't know anyone and you don't know anyone do you want to hang out' head nod and wandered around clueless together that whole day. She lived in the dorms a few hills away and we bonded more out of convenience than anything else.

She was roomies with a meek girl with glasses who was engaged to a boy who just joined the army. Meek girl was sweet and naive and spent the portion of our time together professing her undying love for said fiance. I found myself hanging out with Megan, I believe that was here name, and her roommate that first week, meeting up in the mornings to have breakfast and such. Megan was nerdy and nice but she wanted to socialize that week. By the third day of our 'friendship' she was already trying to dodge Meek roommate and I. I could tell that having two awkward girls following her around was a little much and she soon began drifting away.

Instead of trying to meet other people, I ingested this first form of rejection as a prelude to what my four years of Philly would look like. I spent the next week hanging out at the library a lot; writing Marie and my mom emails about how much I hated Philadelphia and my university. It's not to say that the situation was the reason I left. It wasn't even close to the reason. But combined with homesickness, private college tuition cost, and general anxieties it was all too much for me. I avoided my roommates the rest of that week and walked around the campus a lot. I spent more time talking to staff members than my peers. I quickly decided then that I wanted to be somewhere else.

But in truth I really liked Philadelphia. I liked the neighborhood and the people and the access to the city. I liked the culture and the exposure to Philadelphia from my tiny small university. I liked the row houses, and the parks nearby. I liked what i wanted out of my life there. And as I was watching all of the passengers get off in Philadelphia I wanted to grab my things and get off there too.

And trust me, I love being in New York. This time around, despite the minutes or hours I contemplate the decision to be here, I am happy with my life. I am still awkward and sullen some days but I have built and continue to build something here that is resembling the stability that I need. Before I headed back here Matt sent me a text message that simply read 'Beckett come home'. Maybe what I really desire most in life is to want and be wanted by the same things. I want New York to want me as much as I want it. I want Blue to want me as much as I want him. I want things to level off and meet eye to eye for once.

And some days I regret not trying to do that in Philadelphia. And though I miss being home some days, I don't want to regret my life here either. So Hello December. Another month to get my life here together. Nice to see you again.

Anyway

I am back to the grind again. I started work immediately on Monday and was thrust into the hell that will be the Holiday season. We have a bunch of new faces at Le Sad Store who will all need to be trained at one point or another. This will be a pain when trying to manage unruly customers and new employees who have no idea what they are doing.

Obviously I am not looking forward to this at all. I don't want to sound like a Grinch but seriously I sort of want December to be over already and it has only just begun. This year I'm asking Santa for a Job and maybe a pretty boy with blue eyes. I don't want anything else. I just want to be able to wake up on the weekend knowing that Monday is just around the corner where I will travel to my okay paying entry level gig. Fingers crossed Santa receives me Christmas list. I've been good this year.

Exhausted.

Thanksgiving week was amazing. My mom made so much food this year that I was sent back to new york with leftovers. A lot of leftovers.

The train ride going to South Carolina was smooth sailings. I sat next to a lady who talked for a while, but other than that the ride was a breeze.

Coming back was a whole different story. There was a crying baby in front of me, I sat next to a guy who hummed, farted and snored the whole way, and the traffic in New York was crazy.

I got home a little over four hours ago but I am wiped out. Luckily I am not on the schedule today so I won't have to encounter retail hell until tomorrow afternoon.

But I think I am going to call it a night. Tomorrow I'll deal with unpacking, work and other such real life responsibilities. Tonight it's all about sleeping.

"Lady You Can Suck It! No, Not You. You!"

My internal dialogues at work worry me.

I feel like any posts about work this year will consist of me complaining about customers (and some employees). Maybe it's just my family, but we were never irritating holiday shoppers. Then again my mom never took my brother and I shopping with her during the holidays but I will bet money on it.

Now I love the holidays like the next person but I am so over the commercialization of it. And what's so weird is I'm not even that person. That person who complains that the celebration of Christmas has lost it's values. I know the holidays are about the gift giving, receiving and spending time with the family. But by in large it's kind of just one big holiday where we convince ourselves that splurging on gifts is okay because of Santa Claus and stuff. I am perfectly okay with this.

But when you work in retail you heart can harden when it comes to the whole holiday spirit thing. I don't know why people think they can act like complete assholes because Xmas is around the corner, but they do. And worse they take it out on the poor people working retail. It's like the law of man or something.

Soon after Halloween the store started to pick up with holiday shoppers. Usually the weekends at Le Sad Store are pretty busy but the last few weeks have been crazy. Today was no different, except that we all (all) had to have a mandatory holiday meeting that lasted from 8am to 10am. Our rather dismal crew converged in the cafe after consuming free doughnuts and fruit to listen to the managers praise, using that term loosely, our hard work and dedication. This was followed by a mandatory store tour where each manager (as we were split up into 5 groups that rotated from different managers in different departments) reiterated store procedures, policies and tips for the next few weeks.

We were all too tired to care really. Some people had to close last night and then show up for work at 8. They were the least functioning of us all this morning. The rest, were just pissed at having to come in that early for a meeting we could have done another day and time. I too was a little annoyed by the two hour mandatory meeting. I could have been on a train right now to South Carolina had the importance of this meeting not been drilled into my head. But I was forced to go, and also change my ticket reservation for tomorrow.

I unfortunately got stuck in a group with this chick named Joanne who wouldn't making suggestions during the 'tour'. Joanne is in her late 60's and started working at Le Sad Store part time on and off for 6 years. Up until 3 months ago she was living in Florida, having relocating there after her mom died. But she didn't like Florida. Not at all. And she doesn't mind telling you why she didn't like Florida if you stick around long enough for her to get a word out. Sometimes I like Joanne. She is completely nuts and sometimes I think she is starting to go senile. But the constant complaints can drive even the most sane person nuts.

During the tour she'd interject, when it was not necessary, to talk about things that have annoyed her since her return to the store. Like 'back when we started here, you couldn't just leave a crooked book laying around. it's not that hard to straighten something if it's off' or 'the people in cafe need to be a bit more tidy up there. I hate having to straighten things out up there because you guys don't".

We already had to sit through a 45 minute presentation from the managers, having to listen to her was all too much for my ears. I wanted to clock her. I might have thought about it several times during the tour. Especially as we were heading to the children's department and she spotted a book on a promo table that wasn't suppose to be here "see this is what I am talking about" she exclaimed, drawing our attention to the book and her frustrated face "we need to get this together people"

Her shift started a couple of hours after the store opened and her nonstop complaints began immediately. It's bad enough having to deal with customers who give you clues to a book that consists of 'it's blue and the word 'I' is in the title' but having to deal with infuriating employees is worse. You can't escape them as easily.

So yes, I may have thought really horrible thoughts today. Many of them about slapping too busy to be bothered with our 'slow' service customers to old employees who are losing their minds but somehow still work at a bookstore to pester a usually patient nice girl whose name starts with a B.

Luckily for the next 5 days I will not have to put up with Le Sad Store. Tomorrow I am heading home and I couldn't be happier. I am almost all packed up for my busy traveling day tomorrow. I always bring to many books home with me but for some reason I feel is it necessary to have a book of every genre to occupy my time on the train . I just finished reading Boys and Girls, Like You and Me, a collection of short stories that were cringe worthy and delightful and am bringing it along for the ride to thumb through again. I also have Kick Me, written by the Freaks and Geeks guy and Sunshine, a vampire novel that apparently lacks romance.

I usually end up bringing too much with me but for a 15 hour train ride you can never really bring too much. I'll have my cool Internet usb modem so that I can go online and watch hulu or netflix when my eyes get too tired from reading. Or possibly post something if the person I sit next to doesn't stare over at my screen. We'll see. I am just glad to have a few days away for awhile.

I look forward to being home with my family again. By day 2 I might think otherwise but for now it brings me comfort.

Seriously?!

In less than 48 Hours I will be on a train to South Carolina. Where the hell is fall going? Where the hell are the days going? How is Thanksgiving only a few days away?



I am excited about going home. Turkey Day is my favorite holiday but damn it all to hell if this year Thanksgiving didn't sneak up on me. I haven't even started packing and after a 8 hour shift I have to go to bed early so that I can wake up tomorrow and attend a very dumb mandatory holiday meeting at Le Sad Store. A Holiday Meeting?



Apparently they hold them every year. The managers will talk about the Holiday Season and procedures. They'll then run through all the promos, changeovers and yadda yadda yadda that are currently or will currently go on this year.



I've managed to miss this dumb meeting in the past but not this year. If we don't go we will get written up and knowing Evil Manager she will not only write you up but make a big deal of it in the future. So I, along with everyone else will be there bright and early tomorrow.



yay!



Afterwards I will have to start and finish packing/cleaning my room. I don't want to have to freak out come Monday morning because I still have a very messy room to clean and clothes to pack before my train leaves.



It's so weird that last year around this time I had just found a place for myself to live because my aunt kicked me out. I'd finished a pretty brutal interships at a publishing house and was embarking on new ventures. When I got back from vacation everything sort of fell into place. New home, new internship (that lasted a day. sorry), and the start of my new life in New York paying rent and trying to figure shit out.

I kind of hope that when I get back the same thing will happen. That the short break from my life here will open some new opportunities when i get back. On the job, boy and general happiness front. The last few weeks (sigh. months) have been hectic and crazy and...unpredictable. But I like living in New York and I think i really want to stay here. I just need things to sort of fall in place for once, so I can make that happen.

Fingers Crossed.

Anyway. Time to pack, clean and then sleep. The next few days are going to be a little busy but i'll try to post when I can.

~Becks

The High Road.

Today is the last day of my weird three day vacation. Due to scheduling conflicts (Evil Manager needs me to start working on Thursdays) I was schedule to work only four days this week. Because I usually have Tuesday and Thursdays off my three days ran back to back this week and it has been pretty great. I needed the rest.

On Monday I had a colossal breakdown. I was watching the trailer for a movie called Rabbit Hole, a film about a young couple dealing with the death of their toddler son, and I lost it. I can't describe it any other way.

I am struck by this grieving process. It just doesn't end. Some days I am totally okay. I can say his name. See his face. And remember the touch of his little baby feet without any problems. And other days, I can't without breaking out into hysterics. That is what happened on Monday. I came across the trailer again (I saw it a while back and made a mental note to watch it when it came out in theaters) but as soon as The High Road by Broken Bell starts playing, I am beside myself with grief.

I cried to the point of wanting to throw up. I cried to the point of yelling into my pillow. And by the time I made it to work, I was exhausted by my grief. I was exhausted, and angry and sad.

The movie is based on a play by the same name, and from thumbing through it at work, the movie follows the script exactly. Becca and Howie are dealing with the accidental death (and subsequent grief) of their four year old son Danny (of all names) very differently. Becca appears cold and indifferent, quickly removing items of Danny's life from their home. Howie is struggling to preserve every memory of Danny, and grieves alone by himself. Together their grief leads them down very different paths, threatening to distill their marriage and life.

It's been two years but the grief over my own Danny's death opens up like a fresh wound so easily, I wonder how me and my family made it through the few days after he died. I don't remember crying (hell, I even made a few posts afterwards). I remember having to make sure my brother was okay and that my mom was okay. I remember being asked to write something nice on his funeral page.

I remember being disconnected, like things were happening around me but not to me. I remember having to be strong because everyone and thing around me was soooo quiet. I mostly remember my mom crying, especially when it came time to delete his photo from the screensaver. It was too hard for her to get on the computer with his face staring back at her. She asked me quietly to do it for her, because she couldn't bring herself to. And with a click, he was gone.

With a click.

And then I was gone. It was a few weeks before graduation and we had to pull it together well enough to get me across the stage and finally to board the train to new york. July 2008 seems like a huge blur, re-reading the posts from them is so weird. I sound so disconnected and aloof, as if a pet bird died instead of my nephew. I am angry at myself because of this. Sometimes I am angry that I didn't stay with my family for a few more months, instead of moving up here a month after he died.

I am not an angry person. It is am emotion that I rarely have. But I feel caught in the middle of the several stages of grief. I am beyond bargaining. I am just mad and angry that we will forever have to go on without him here. That we were given a sneak peak at his life only to have it taken away.

So of course on Monday, having watched the trailer for this movie, feelings of sadness, anger and disbelief washed over me. It was if suddenly I'd been pulled away the currents by grief . Not that it is ever really gone but that day it was...overwhelming. Marie thinks the grief will always feel worse around the holidays. And she is right. It will.

But it also has to do with something I have not talked about on this blog. My brother has been dating a girl for about a year and a half now and they are expecting a baby this spring. I know my responsible, safe sex having brother. His girlfriend is uber nice, I met her this summer and she played Rock Band with Morgan and I. We are facebook friendly and she checks on me from time to time just to say hey.

And now she is pregnant, with a baby and I am...scared. I am excited for her and my brother and my mom. But I am scared. I am already losing concrete senses of Danny, and now there is a new baby coming. A boy who they have decided to name Elliot.

Outside of pictures and videos, the particulars of Danny are fading away due to time and his absence. He would have been three this year. He would have developed a personality; including a particular laugh, smile, manner of speech. But because he is no longer here, those things that would have created a firmer impression of him, for me, don't exist. And all i have are these fleeting memories of baby stares and sleep face.

And I am afraid of forgetting him. He will always be my first nephew. He will always be the one who got away. And I don't want to feel like he is being replaced. I don't want to feel like he is being erased by my dumb hands clicking him away.

And though everything else this week has been amazing, the grief has sort of over shadowed that and put me in a weird place. I feel bare and scrubbed down to the soft fleshy part of the skin that doesn't react well to direct sunlight or air. And I plan on seeing Rabbit Hole and buying the play because I am still grieving and struggling to understand his death. I still in a weird way struggling to understand our lives sense it.

Dreadful

Another horrible night at Le Sad Store. I got yelled at by one of my co-workers (who is not a manager) because she was irritated that I was talking to Jen, the girl who quit a couple of weeks ago but stopped by the store today to say hey.

Literally mid sentence Angry Co-worker, who is bitter about being 42 and working at the bookstore, can up to Jen and I as we were catching up in an aisle and said "Beckett you are on the clock, Jen you don't work here anymore. So I need you to get to work like now, and you (Jen) to stop bothering the people who work here".

Oh yeah. Bitch went there.

After that I couldn't concentrate on anything else. All I could think about was violently punching her in the face. She is the most miserable employee there. When she isn't muttering about Le Sad Store sucking she is spouting off about politics. Surprisingly up until this moment we got along really well. I am always really nice and patient around her and I try not to judge because working at the Le Sad Store does suck but working with people who I generally get along with makes it a little easier.

But her whole tone with us (me especially) was not necessary. And the moment she scolded us she knew she'd made some mistake. She went about her business and avoided me the rest of her shift. I intend on telling her (the next time i see her) that any future disagreements she has about how I spend my time at work can be brought up to me in a manner that is full of respect. Because I'd never talk to her the way she did. Ever.

I'll even use my adult tone and everything.

The rest of the night kind of went downhill from there. Josh sent me a freaking 23 page script the other day and expected me to have had read the damn thing along with providing a critique. I fear that I am going to have to remind him that I am not his editor. I tried to do this by explaining that I 'have my own stuff to write' to which he replied 'so. that has nothing to do with me'.

And this my friends is why I don't want to help him out. But he isn't the only one who is annoying me these days and my sweet patience has worn thin. I feel like my niceness is being taken advantage of and I am sort of over it. To the point of frustrated tears.

The holidays are bringing out the worst in people (who i work with and who shop at Le Sad Store) and I dread being there.

To top it all off, there is another opening at the Job I applied to, interviewed for but did not get back in August because my phone failed me (and I subsequently pissed off the HR Manager). I applied again and am sort of stressed out about this. I am crossing my fingers that I will be called in for another interview and that I am have the colossal do-over I begged for three months ago.

I sent in the application on Friday and can only hope that I can get an interview sometime this week.

Even the good aspects of Le Sad Store are starting to sour and I need a change stat. And I feel that an opportunity for that change is on the brink, if I don't go messing it up again.

Finding Light.

Last night was not a good night. My anxiety flared up again and I was distant, cold and dear i say aloof all night at work.

Hanging around kids is interesting. Sometimes I want to fault them for getting upset so quickly at trivial things. My cousin Michelle use to freak out so quickly that I often thought she was possessed by a demon.

I mean one day, we were sitting around watching the Disney Channel during dinner when she realized her food had suddenly gone cold.

The chick started freaking out. This was beyond a kid tantrum. This was a full blown freak out attack. It wasn't my fault she let the food sit for too long. Wasn't her fault Hannah Montana was one and she was too distracted to eat her then warm chicken nuggets. But it didn't matter. Within a matter of few seconds she screamed "my......food...is...COLD" and then started convulsing on the floor.

I quickly yelled "Michelle! We'll warm it up in the microwave. Chill Out". And guess what?The convulsing stopped, the tears dried and she said "oh" and handed me her plate.

At the time I thought this very sweet child (who loves dirt and the color purple) had gone crazy. But I realized she did, to the extreme of course, what most kids do when they feel unable to fix something. The moment she touched her cold chicken nuggets, she thought they'd always be cold. That her food was ruined and inedible. And rolling around on the floor was the only way to express said frustration and doubt.

And though I have not flailed around on the floor in a very long time, I understand now every little bout of frustration that floods her face when she comes across something that doesn't know how to overcome. It's the feeling of immobility and that you can't DO anything. That you have all the tools necessary to make things better but no clue how to apply them. For Michelle it's: buttoning jackets, putting on mittens, and well...cold food.

For me, it's how to overcome (or deal with ) anxiety and depression and jealousy especially when it strikes out of nowhere.


Last night I was soooo off my game. Matt was annoying the crap out of me all night. Not just Matt.... but everyone was driving me crazy last night if I can be completely honest. Ever since i sent Josh his critique he has billed me as his editor. Last night he came up to me and wouldn't stop talking about his story and that he wanted me to go through some of his scenes and edit his sentences so that it sounds 'fancy'. Then Matt wouldn't stop bugging me about the poem I promised to write him and the story idea I said I would let him know about. He joked around and said 'I'm beginning to lose confidence in you' which you cannot (repeat:cannot) say to a girl like me.

I felt guilty the rest of the night, followed by a tinge of jealousy because the dynamic at work is changing. Kat and Pretty Ricky are now BFF's (go figure). There is a new kid who was just promoted Head Cashier after being there for 5 weeks and I just feel left out of things. Which is no one's fault but my own to be honest. I find myself wanting these meaningful connections but then denying any form of interaction that I am uncomfortable with.

I want much more from these people than what i am entitled to and when I am faced with this fact I get sullen and sad. And it doesn't help that I can be a very irrational person sometimes. I can have two polar ideas in the same breath. And I can want and not want two things in a heartbeat. I am a conflicted, complicated girl.

By the end of the night feeling all but drained of energy I sulked in a corner while no one took notice (except awesome Music Guy). Matt invited a girl from cafe (who has a boyfriend. thank god) to some event he and some friends are throwing, Josh still wouldn't shut the hell up about his writing and there was a hub of people talking and interacting and forming bonds while I remained on the outside.

When I got home I just sort of collapsed into my pillow and let out this very frustrated cry. Anxiety, for me anyway, is as much about control as it is about chaos. I get anxious because I don't know how to verbalize what I feel. I have this fear that no one wants to hear what I have to say. I am moody and sullen and quickly distracted. But those characteristics are paired with a me who 90% of the time is bubbly, funny and kind.

But around other people I feel uninteresting because I don't have fiery red hair and visible emotional scars like Kat, or dazzling blue eyes like Smurf. I don't talk about myself like I am god's gift to world like Josh. I am not really religious and hawt like Pretty Ricky. And I am not street smart like McAbs.

I am small and delicate. I hide behind my hands when people argue, I sometimes wear mismatched socks and I take pictures of light in my room because it sways like it's breathing. It sways and flickers and calms me down.

But a girl like that doesn't have pretty boys falling over them. A girl like that isn't invited into conversations that matter. A girl like me, despite everything that Smurfboy says, still finds herself alone wondering where I fit in or if I ever will.

It was a devastatingly painful night knowing that I let Anxiety shroud my thoughts like that. That I would allow Anxiety to do the opposite of what the flickering lights do in my room. That instead of creating Light where the darkness resides, I let Anxiety time and time again cast shades of doubt because it's easier than fully seeing this interesting, personable, and stellar girl that I am. Despite the troubles that get in the way.

Yeah. Last night was rough. I'm still recovering.

Days Go By.

I have the next two days off. Can you believe it.

Of course this was not by luck or chance. About six weeks ago Graphic Artist Guy from Music invited me to his Birthday party (being held today in the city). I was uber excited about getting an invite because this dude is amazing on so many levels.

But as a cool Guy his party is not only in the city but at a concert hall in the wee hours of the night. I asked several other people if they were going to go but none of them got back to me soon enough. He lives in the Bronx so traveling to the city with a bunch of his friends and his wife will be a breeze. For me on the other hand I kind of wanted to have another person from work in attendance so I wouldn't be the only new face in a sea of his friends outside of work.

I didn't know until Wednesday that I wouldn't be able to make it to his party, but by then I'd already put in a request for that day off just in case I could get someone else to tag along with me. Because of this flub I have two days off in a row this week. Two days! I haven't been home on a Monday in ages, I don't even know what to do with myself.

Of course it is muggy and grey outside and all plans of going to the library and possibly buying a nerdy sweater are on hold. Instead I am going to do some research on sacred prostitution (it's for a story. I swear) and watch some documentaries on Netflix. Did I mention how much I love Fall. It's the only season where I have appropriate excuse for not leaving the house. The chill here hits the bones and the tips of fingers and toes. Who'd want to go outside to get smacked in the face by the wind and rain when you can stay inside drinking hot chocolate in the most comfortable green pj's ever.

I rest my case.

I've been keeping my spirits up lately by writing as much as I can. When I can. For some reason I have become the go to person for people at work who are interested in writing. It doesn't matter that I haven't shown any of them pieces of my work. My BA in English is all they need to think that I can edit and critique their stories like an agent or something.

Josh, who did not mention his party disaster, wanted me to read a short scene he wrote for a story he dreamed up a few days ago. Josh has never emailed me anything of his since I have known him and I was beginning to suspect he was all talk and no show. That night he sent me a two page snippet of a scene and I was sort of impressed by how bad it..wasn't.

So it wasn't the greatest thing I've read but it has massive potential. Though he only sent me two pages, I wrote him a four page critique hoping to help him in the areas his story were weak in. I also applauded the narrative tone of his story along with his use of effective language. It wasn't until I read over my own critique that I fully released I had taken to heart the lessons of my professors.

So yeah, I am horrible with passive voice and grammar and spelling and my general technique needs work. But my ability to pick up on those errors mean that I am willing to work on them. I emailed Josh my notes last night and I am sort of interested to hear what he thinks.

At dinner with Matt the other night, who i will now refer to as Smurf because of his smurf like colored eyes and because I am worried about someone from work stumbling across this blog thus putting the names and daily happenings together, I mentioned that Josh sent me a story that wasn't too bad. I am still unsure about what we are doing. I know i should just let things work themselves out. But I analyze people. Analyze. And I am not sure if we feeling each other out (not literally of course) or becoming friends. who knows.

Anyway, at the mention of Josh and a story he made a face and said 'how'd that go'. I was sort of taken aback, mainly because they are friends but also because I have read Smurf's stories (aloud to Marie and to myself) and needless to say my ears bled. Hardcore.

I told him that I thought the snippet Josh sent me had promise and that I wanted to encourage him to keep playing around with the language. He then asked me how my writing was faring to which I explained that there is an attachment to my work that I am prepared to detach from. That I was a teen who had only one friend to her name. That I was then a college student with only a few more friends to my name and that I wrote (write) to work through things.

He totally disagreed. He thinks that the stories we write don't reveal anything about ourselves. That one can write things that have nothing to do with his or her state of mind or current situation.Wiping grease from my face I mentioned names like Plath, Dylan, Kerouac, Didion, O'Connor. For christ sakes Wright, Morrison, Sexton, Hemingway, Nabokov, Shute, Lowry....

Need I go on.

The mood was sort of perfect and dreamy as we were sitting in the low light of the pizza place talking about stories and writing. We disagreed and contradicted one another and I felt like I was reveling to much and got nervous. I let the nerdiness slip out, I talked about my anxieties, I wanted to touch his mouth.

While he is confidant about his bad stories, I am hesitant about my okay ones. He talks about his ideas with such passion that it's unfortunate that he isn't executing them well.

As for me, my stories are all so personal because i don't talk about myself in real life. They reveal what I struggle to understand about myself. They are intimate and I guess I'm not so ready to be exposed yet.

I did however promise that would write him a poem because he scuffed at the idea that poems can be fantastic (and the fact that he didn't know any of the poets I mentioned was heart breaking) . And like most aspects of my life, I am not able to communicate my thoughts or feelings that well without pen and paper. I find myself wanting to lure Smurfboy in with fancy sentences and paragraphs that don't suck. Is it awful that I find myself more interesting on paper.

I've always had problems verbalizing my ideas and emotions. I get weird and awkward and panicky when I am put in a position where I have to carry a conversation with someone other than people I've known for a long time. So when Matt asked to grab food after work, I immediately thought he wanted to go to the same pizza place and get something to go. I was unprepared for his request to 'sit down and eat' because that is what people do when they grab dinner together. And despite the success of dinner, I still feel like i fumbled about throughout. Still too nervous in my won skin.

I am not good with social clues. I ignore them. A part of my anxiety revolves around this unfounded notion that the thoughts inside my head do not make sense once verbalized. I know this is crazy because in therapy my amazing therapists said I was a natural storyteller and that I am able to explain my ideas with ease and maturity. The truth is I believe that people don't want to hear what I have to say and because of this I do not open up to them (especially men). Sometimes I feel that my ideas and feelings are coded in another language and when I try to explain them people look as if I have just spewed gibberish.

Writing is a way for me to translate things more clearly. Like a foreigner with a heavy accent, I find myself asking for a pen and paper when I have to explain things because what I am thinking may not come out how I want it to so writing becomes my mode of communication. I think that is why I do it. It's to understand and be understood. It's to connect.

Though the conversation was lively during dinner. I still felt all kinds of weird. I struggle with words and wish I could just write him notes. And damn it all to hell if his eyes weren't really really pretty from where I was sitting. And damn it all to hell that I wanted to touch his face.

I think that is enough pinning for one day. I promised myself a solid hour or two of story writing. I also made the mistake of checking out Palo Alto from work the other night, written by James Franco. Yes, that James Franco. It is really terrible. I find myself wondering if he is going to reveal that this writing thing has been a big stunt because if I have to read anymore stories of cliche California teenagers, I think I may vomit.

~Becks

Blue and I

Matt and I had dinner together tonight.

What. The. Fuck.

We worked a mid shift today at Le Sad Store and as we were both leaving (having spent a very exhausting day at work) he asked what I was doing after work.

Because my stomach growled mid sentence I couldn't deny my plans to grab a bite to eat. Just something quick and in the neighborhood.

"I'm kind of hungry too" he says, walking out the same exit I am " Want to grab something together"

After a 15 minute scan of possible places to sit and munch on food, we decide to grab pizza near by.

I tried not to show how nervous I was. He was nice and easy to talk to. We chillaxed with cheap pizza and ramblings about life.

And I think I like it. A little. And by a little I mean a lot.

For Pete Sakes why must I be such a weird girl.

Le Sigh.

Money Woes.

I just spent $476.00 on a train ticket so I can go home for Thanksgiving this year. I can't even begin to explain how much of a dent that has put on my small wallet.

I wasn't even sure I would be able to go home this year. I put in my vacation request 3 weeks ago but Evil Manager never signed off on it. Though I wanted to go home for both Thanksgiving and Christmas...I really only cared about going home for Turkey day.

So on Monday when I walked into work ,still with no word on whether I would get those days off, I approached Evil Manager about the situation. She said that we needed to have a 'talk' later on during my shift regarding the days I wanted off.

A few hours later she took me int her office and said that they were no longer taking requests for the holidays. She went into this very long explanation about retail and the importance of the whole staff being available for the days before and following Thanksgiving and Christmas. But because I am reliable and am easy to work with the managers collectively decided that I would be the only one getting the time off requested for this holiday. I won't be added to the schedule that week, and I am not suppose to tell any of my co-workers about their decision to give me that week off.

Instead of leaving on the Sunday before Thanksgiving though, I now have to leave on Monday because they are going to need me to cover a morning shift. It was the only way they would agree to give me the rest of my vacation time off. Oh, and I can forget about going home for Christmas.

You win some. You lose some.

I bought the tickets today and my mom, of course, was very excited about the news. Hell, I'm excited. I love Turkey Day. I love Thanksgiving food and being around my family. But damn it all to hell if my bank account isn't suffering because of it. In a few months I will have to start paying student loans, which makes me queasy. I have been regularly paying down the lowest of my student loans since February 2009. But the big one won't become an issue until May which in student loan land is just around the corner.

The more and more I think about having to pay back student loans, the more I have to think about the job market and career choices. Which is the last thing I want on my mind. I've hit a creative high that last couple of weeks that I am riding on. I think it's the weather. I am much more a fall, cold weather, warm socks kind of girl than a warm weather, sandals chick. I bought a new writing notebook a few days ago, which I have been filling up with ideas and treatments.

I even went on a photo walk today (because taking photos calm me) where I tried to capture my obsession with light and shadow. I haven't felt this 'inspired' by my surroundings in a very long time and I want to embrace this energy while it last.

I am serious about wanting to utilize the writing scene here.I keep watching all of these shows on creative, funny people who were apart of acting troupes or writing groups who have gone on to create 'funny ass shit'. Case in point: Strangers with Candy. Did you know Stephen Colbert, Amy Sedaris and my favorite, Paul Dinello (swoon worthy) all met via a comedy improv troupe? Yeah, and then they became like a wicked awesome writing team. Creating some hilarious skits for me to watch. Like seriously.

I've been yearning to collaborate with a like minded creative individual(s). I want to sit around and be nerdy and come up with crazy funny, intellectual, subtle humor to present. I know they are out there. Hell, I'm out here.

If I had the funds I would seriously consider taking a short 4-6 week writing class to meet people and geek out. I want to learn the structures of dramatic and comedic writing along with my own interest in novels and short stories formatting.

And I wish I had the money to test all of these creative ventures out (participating in a writing/acting troupe scares and interests me). But alas, right now I not in the position to act on these wants. Even a tentative trip to the Whitney Museum of American Art next Thursday has me worrying about how much it will cost to see an Edward Hopper exhibit.

I hate worrying about money. I hate having to budget around the budget. I would kind of prefer the starving artist thing right now, because at least I would be contributing to my own work. Who needs food anyway. Because in all honesty, outside of this recent burst of creative energy I have spent the last year or so doing everything outside of creating things.

And I sort of want to do that again. Because the last few weeks have been great (well not the worrying about money part) because I have been able to be creative and make things again.

Happenings....

Halloween was very uneventful.

I requested a morning shift on Halloween because I wanted to take my cousin trick or treating. Evil Manager singed off on my request and I went to work all dressed as Amelia Pond from Doctor Who so that I could go directly to my aunts aftewards.

No one knew who I was. I rocked a red wig, a red hoodie and a short black skirt with tights; an exact replica of Amelia's outfit from a Who episode. Everyone however thought I was a hooker. A high class one. Or worse they thought I was just dressed as a girl in a red wig. I got so many compliments on the wig that everyone was oblivious to the Doctor Who homage.

I can't fault anyone though. Outside of two people who watch the show at my job, Doctor Who remains a very British show that a lot of people who aren't a fan of British television watch. If I would have been around a bunch of Who nerds the costume would have been a success.

Once again, donning an outfit that I wouldn't be caught dead in outside of Halloween caused very strange reactions amongst my coworkers. A girl who works in Cafe, who never ever talks to me because she is girly and cool, has suddenly become my friend since. She said I look amazing with long hair and that I need to grow my short hair out 'like now'. It was sort of bizarre.

McAbs was nice and mean to me all at the same time that day. He walked into the break room as I was lounging around and did a double take. The rest of the day he quietly watched me from afar as my very long red hair fell in my face. When he finally decided to come up to me he asked "who the hell are you for Halloween" touching the ends of my 'hair'. I of course had to go over the whole "Amelia pond, she is a character from Doctor Who' thing but he got really angry when I said "it doesn't matter that no one else knows who I am, as long as Toe (my good friend from work who introduced me to Who) does then I don't really care who knows what I am dressed up as'

He then went all guy on me and said "why do you have to bring him up in every conversation. You really like him don't you". Awkward. When I calmly replied that he just so happens to be a good friend of mine, he eyed me up and down and said "yeah sure. I bet" and then stomped off. 15 minutes later he came back to apologize for the gruffness and then spent the rest of the day asking me if I needed anything; water, candy from the break room, a hand with the books in my hand.

Being a girl has it's perks.

When I got off work I dragged my very adorable 'girl skeleton' of a cousin around four neighborhood blocks for trick or treating fun. For a five year old this kid is awesome. She went two hours politely saying "happy Halloween" (and one time 'merry Christmas) to neighbors racking up so much candy that I wanted to kiss her face. We high fived all night and traded candy before I went home to watch The Walking Dead on AMC ( i fell asleep in a pool of candy just when the Deputy Sheriff guy shot half zombie person in the head. I couldn't tell you how the rest of the show went). It was a decent night. Maybe not for an average 24 year old girl living near a huge city. But I'll deal.

Interestingly enough I planned on going to Josh's big Halloween Party on Friday but after he said I had low self esteem I was not all the interested in attending.

Josh has been getting on a lot of people's nerves lately. I like the guy and all but he has this idea that because I don't ramble on about my writing process that I must suck compare to his greatness. And his 'greatness' is not limited to writing. He believes he is the hottest most interesting guy at Le Sad Store and when he got wind that another guy named Josh, who is very hot and nice, was hired he almost made us promise that we would not talk to him because 'there can only be on Josh. And you are looking at him".

Yeah. He's a gem.

Anyway when he announced, a few months back, that he was going to throw the most awesome Halloween Party ever we (by we I mean everyone at work)were sort of still on his team and wanted to attend. Since then though, people have not been feeling his cockiness and on Friday there was still a huge list of people were not sure if they would go at all. Me being one of them.

At first I wanted to go because Matt was going. But my on and off again crush with him was off that night. I just wanted to go home and sleep and dream about pretty things. I did not want to drag myself to a party I wasn't sure anyone was going to attend. And if you are as much of a fan as I am of Flight of The Conchords than you will understand my fear that I would get to his house and there would just be a bunch of dudes in comparison to girls at his house. Too Many Wangs in one room is too much for me. Makes me nervous. Seriously.

The next day at work I asked Matt how the party went and he said 'as well as a party of three people can be'. I. Shit. You. Not. Three people attended Josh's party that night. Three. A costume themed party at that. So that means three people (all of whom were dudes) were sitting around an empty house with a lot of booze dressed in ridiculous costumes.

Me and my low esteem giggled just a little inside when Matt told me this. Just a little.

Matt said Josh was pretty pissed that no one came (he might have punched a wall). Especially because the majority of his invites were to people at work. The whole night was a huge Ego bust which to be honest he needed. I'm sure we won't hear the end of this for a long time. But in all honesty his lack of guests has a lot to do with him.

Anyway

Now that Halloween is over I am back on the train that is work, finding a job and writing. The real world is smacking me in the face bur for some reason I am all to ready to take hold of the next few months. I bought a new notebook yesterday and have been writing up a storm. It's sort of exciting. I am thinking about taking a writing course somewhere. I hate that I live in a huge writing city and I have yet to utilize the community.

I'll have to do some research and see what I can find.

Oh, and because I technically have two blogs (Quiet Girl, memba' her) I've decided to use that blog solely for my picture taking ventures. A photo essay of sorts. I take (and have taken) a bunch of pictures in new york, all of which I can't possibly squeeze into one post. So instead of just letting Quiet Girl sit unwritten in, I've decided to do something with it (and surprisingly there is some traffic there that I was unaware of until tonight). S0 pictures seems the best use of that space.

Time to write for a while and then bed. I've been having some awesome dreams lately. I'm glad I am sleeping better these days.

Doctor!

Halloween kind of snuck up on me.

The people I know here are obsessed with Halloween. It is like a mini Christmas for them. They enjoy planning months in advance in order to make (yes, make) elaborate costumes and attend elaborate parties.

As someone who has spent more Halloweens alone than with people, I didn't catch on to the phenom that is Halloween activities. Don't get me wrong, I freaking love Halloween. I am use to buying candy for myself, racking up a bunch of Dvd's to watch, and chilling at home with a pizza pie and movies. The End.

But now everyone I know participates in Halloween extravaganzas, I'm not sure my own activities makes the grade. From parties, to parades to bar hopping fiascoes, I feel like my tentative plans are lackluster despite how much I enjoy doing them. The last two Halloweens I have worked or taken my cousin to Treak or Treating. I still plan on doing that this year along with setting up a Halloween Themed instant queue on Netflix (GHOSTBUSTERS!!!). Michelle wants to be a skeleton on Sunday and any opportunity to drag her around a neighborhood where she will ask and receive candy is one that I will glady take part in.

There are some parties being thrown by co-workers that I could attend, but I am not sure I am up to it; mainly because the main party is being thrown by Josh who is driving me crazy. Josh and Kat are starting to annoy the shit out of me these days. Josh rambles on and on about his writing 'ideas' (because as of yet they are just 'way awesome scenes that i am just too busy to write') and contends that I have 'low self esteem' in regards to my own stories, which is why I am not as awesome of a writer as he is.

*anger boiling*

Kat started hanging out with Pretty Ricky outside of work and can't stop gushing about how awesome he is. Josh's party is tomorrow and she mentioned it to Pretty Ricky when they were grabbing dinner. According to her he said he would only go if 'she went' and then she made a swooning gesture in the aisle which made me gag a little.

*jealousy boiling*

For this reason alone I don't feel like dragging myself after work tomorrow to his party. One because Josh said I had low self esteem and two because my moderate self esteem is jealous of Kat's continued conquest of all the male attention at work.

So, treak-or-treating and Ghostbusters it is.

I did end up buying a costume though. Today actually. This summer I had my heart set on being Amelia Pond (doctor who companion). I bought a fiery auburn wig and everything in preparation for the awesomeness that was going to be Amelia Pond/UK police outfit. But then I sort of forgot about the whole costume thing (and realized how much money it would be to buy all the things needed for a costume such as hers) and decided a couple of weeks ago that I wanted to be Daria Morgendorffer. However, trying to find clothes for an anti-social, sardonic misfit was very difficult. You'd think combat boots, a black pleated skirt and a green blazer would be easy to find.

It's not.

So I sort of gave up on that costume also went back with my original idea, except I choose the outfit pictured to mimic instead. And guess what? I think I only spent $24 on the whole costume. Armed with a red wig, a mini skirt, leggings and a red hoodie....I make a pretty awkward looking but adorable Amelia pond.

Outside of taking Michelle Trick or Treakin' I don't know where else I will wear this costume. Josh's party is a maybe, hanging out with friends is a maybe and going to the city is a definite no. But I wouldn't mind just wearing it all day and yelling "Doctor" with a Scottish accent into the air.

I do think this is the cheapest costume I've ever worn.

Thank you H&M for making Halloween costumes possible to very broke girls. If only you could provide attractive British guy wearing a bow tie.

Le Sigh Part 2.

I'm not sleeping well.

I had some coffee about three days ago which completely messed up my sleep schedule. Because of this I have been more drowsy then usual. Even sluggish. I am now cursing the fact that I even wanted coffee in the first place, while my body tries to find it's stride again.

The days are whizzing by on my end. I can't believe that Halloween is on Sunday and then that Thanksgiving will only be four weeks away. I plan on heading home, which means I must also plan on being broke for a while but it'll be worth it.

When I graduated from school I promised my mom that I would always come home for Thanksgiving and July 4th. So far I have been able to keep this promise without too much trouble. To be honest being home for those two holidays are more for my sanity than my mothers.

Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday. It's one in which we all participate in without fighting. My brother even joins into excitement of the day, coming down from his room (because yes he still lives with my mom) to check up on how the food is doing. Then we will play Rock Band or some other game in the living room while my mom listens to music and cooks her heart out.

And I come home for July 4th (or the week around July 4th) to spend time with them and remember my nephew. It's as simple as that.

In the past week I have met several southern transplants here. I admit I hated living in South Carolina. Outside of my mom and brother being there I have no intention of ever moving back to the south. Don't get me wrong. The land is beautiful. The clouds down there reveal heaven. And coming from a person like me, you know that means something. I enjoy the warm weather, and the slow days and the country. But that's about it.

That doesn't mean that I don't hold a soft spot for the south however. Anytime I met someone from Tennessee or North Carolina all I want to do is talk about how different it is here. I want them to remind me of home because some nights I miss it.

Pretty Ricky is from Alabama. I found this out a few weeks ago and for some reason we have bonded over our 'southern roots'. So yeah he is a pastor. And yeah I have had very dirty thoughts about him at work (he came in the other day from a youth ministry meeting and was very a motherf*cking bowtie. I had to do everything in my power not to...well you get the picture), but when we got into a discussion at work with Josh who said Virginia was 'country'; we quickly bonded together and said 'you don't know country until you've driven through a town with one stop light'.

Ricky then added: 'stop lights, in Alabama some of the roads aren't even paved...yet'.

I kind of heart him, just as much as I sometimes heart being home in South Carolina.

On Monday at customer service, I helped a boy from Louisiana. The moment he walked up to me i was like 'cute. very cute' and then he told me he moved to New York after graduating school and couldn't find a job. To which I quickly added 'cute and ambitious'.

We spent a good while talking. His accent was very southern and he wanted to know how I got rid of mine (yeah. I didn't mention the whole born in new york thing). He said he had no intention of ever going back to Louisiana, though he could get a job back home quicker then one here: "but it wouldn't be what I wanted to do" he said " And it sure as hell wouldn't be where I wanted to live. Feel sorta stuck sometimes".

I kind of wanted to kiss his face here. I mean holy hell, I have a tendency of thinking I am the only one struggling to make something for myself here. And here he was, with very nice green eyes and an accent that was not annoying, saying the same thing I have felt. And despite wanting to grab him by the collar of his jacket and smooch his face to death, I refrained and admitted that I too was in the same boat.

"same southern boat"

I knew this would have been the best time to introduce myself (we were really hitting it off) and ask if he lived in the area. But I didn't. Instead I wished him good luck and then watched him walk out of the store.

It's was weird. Talking to him made me feel....at home. And this had nothing to do with my attraction to his face. I realize that I gravitate towards people who aren't from here. Who are doing the same thing I am, in an attempt to not settle for small town living. It's a fear of mine to be honest. There are two types of people who come from small towns. Those who don't plan on ever leaving and those who can't imagine staying.

And despite my attachment to the south. Despite the clarity of mind I get when I am home and am around farm land, blue skies and lazy southern mornings; I don't find myself wanting to go back. I want to visit. I want to stop in and say hello. But I want to make something of myself here, just to prove that I can.

Just like cute Louisiana boy with the deep accent and green eyes.

I just want to prove to myself that I can do this. To take a chance of leading an extraordinary life just because. And I have a feeling that all of these transplants I have met are doing the same thing. All in very different ways but with the very same intention. And I am not looking to lose any of the things that were nurtured in the south. I am not looking to be someone different. I, like Pretty Ricky and Louisiana and every other young transplant here, just wants to function and live outside of the unpaved roads of small towns.

Anyway.

I should try to get some sleep. I am not the best person when i am drowsy and the fact that I have to close tonight will not help at all. It is raining something beautiful here which will induce sleep better than any medication.


Remind me not to drink coffee anymore. Last year it gave me something flu like. Now it is depriving me of three days worth of sleep.

Le Sigh.