The Cheesecake Factory

I've been having an affair with the cheesecake factory. Recently the Barnes and Nobel on campus has opened up a coffee shop/bakery/"haven" for me to get coffee and goodies.

I am like a kid in a candy, staring at the sweets before me. I'm not really a dieter because i refuse to restrict the yummy things i like to eat, when i can just go to the gym 4 times out of the week and burn off any cookies/danishes/ or cupcakes that i consume throughout the week.

At this point i will make any excuse to stop by the cheesecake factory. If i have a good day...CHEESECAKE FACTORY. Or a bad days cheesecake factory. Or simply when i feel like a cheesecake. It's ruining my life, yesterday i went to bed with a stomach ache and had a weird dream after consuming the hugest cookie ever.

I blame it on running into my ARCH NEMESIS yesterday...JOSH.

Josh is the suck up kid in my English class. Their are just some people who are fundamentally annoying to listen too. And plus he is kind of my biggest competition in that class. Unlike me, Josh sends my English professor emails and talks to him during class. They are totally on comfortable first named basis with one another. I on the other hand still only communicate to my professor via email. I haven't been doing it lately though because we have been reading a novel and i don't really have any question for such straightforward reading.

The problem is that my whole thing with this professor is being able to send him emails, kind of stand out without being pompous. But without the emails i feel like my writing charm is waning on him, and he wants something more from me. Something tangible like more communication in class. So Josh pretty much is winning whatever battle i have internally created between us, because he and the professor are close.

He still is a suck up, wearing his neatly ironed shirts and tied shoes. There is just something about him... i don't know what yet.

So yesterday i was getting advised for classes. It went really well. My advisor is this older lady who is kind of spacey and laughs at her own jokes...repeatedly. I had been waiting outside her room for 15 minutes while she talked to someone about fruit cakes and dancing.

After they finally stopped talking i had a pretty decent advisement, because unlike my jerk of an advisor last year, i felt in control of what i want to take for the upcoming semester. We laughed and joked(more of her joking than me though) and i have a kick ass schedule for next semester. As i said goodbye and headed to the door who else did i slam into then..ARCH NEMESIS JOSH. I mean he was practically standing in the doorway smelling like fabric softener(okay that's a stretch, but does the kid have a iron in his book bag or something. As soon as i step outside my room my clothes get wrinkly) I don't know how long he was standing at the door while i was getting advised but i imagine a pretty long while. We made "arch nemesis" eye contact and i left out of the first exit i saw.

I bet he's probably a really nice guy...despite the sucking up, stupid questions, perfectly dressed demeanor, and all and all being a know it all.

Breathe.

Today i saw a squirrel fighting with a plastic bag.

March has been very hectic, everything seems to be coming down to the wire, and i have realized I'm not nearly as ready for it. I have barely had time to breathe must days. I like the small moments, the moments where i am just sitting somewhere with a book and a good cheese danish. I like watching birds chirp, people converse and being an observer must days. But lately i haven't even been able to enjoy the simple things. I'm functioning at such high rates that i passing them by.

So this morning i was a little perplexed when i saw this squirrel literally trying to pull this plastic bag from the ground. For landscaping purposes this plastic bag was placed specifically in the ground to be left alone. Possible as a marker for a tree they are going to place there. But this little squirrel was determined to yank this bag from the ground. I had to do a double take, and a third take, and fourth take before laughing out at this unusual scene.

It's the first time i have laughed in a few weeks, and i am seriously missing it.

Today is a Cure kind of day. Which usually is not a good sign of the week to come emotionally. There are moments when i wake up and feel this sense of...yearning perhaps. I get them frequently and the more and more to go to therapy the more i am apparent of how lonely things really are. I mean i think apart of me, before venturing on this therapy journey,was a little bit comfortable with the silence and inactivity. I would readily run back to my room to escape people. But having those fears(anxiety) fade away has led me to yearn for social interaction ,and being faced with none is emotionally draining to my heart. Hence Robert Smith rotation on iPod.

I sure don't like EMO but I LOVE the Cure.

Anyway.

It's weird because on these days that i wake up realizing how distant i am from people I hide away from them, even though internally i was just want someone to reach out to me. I'm not a direct person, i don't come out and say "I WANT YOU TO WANT ME", even if it is what i feel. So i just watch from the sidelines feeling a little bitter from where i stand.

But the more i stand here, the more i realize it is my own feet that are keeping me back. I am paralysed in fear, my knees are buckling, and i can not move forward for the life of me.

I'm just a little frustrated with myself, frustrated and a little lonely.

Damn

I'm trying to use this school and my current situation as training wheels for when i enter the real world. Unfortunately i do not remember the moment i stopped using training wheels on my bike as a kid. I remember my first bike, of course it was pink and had purple streamers on the handles, and i thought it was the greatest bike ever. The day i got my training wheels put on was during a neighborhood block party. Our neighborhood had a park right across the street from most of the houses, particularly ours, so on hot summer days people would gather and have cookout's or what not.

I had a bike that had to be put together and this guy in the neighborhood who use to say he was going to cryogenically freeze himself until i reached legal age so he could marry me(this was around the time that Mel Gibson movie Forever Young came out. Everybody was into cryogenics) spent the whole afternoon fixing it for me. I just realized how much of a pedophile he probably was, he always wanted me to sit on his lap, but my cousins wouldn't allow it. EWWW. Anyway, the pedophile totally fixed my bike at the block party that day and from then on i was a mean, lean, bicycling machine.

I was always steady on the bike which is probably why i don't remember when the training wheels came off. It wasn't such a huge adjustment. But i now realize that i am currently on training wheels and not being use to falling off of my bike i am a little frustrated and afraid of riding this bike without them. I constantly feel like i am falling off, scratching up my knees, scrapping my arms, and banging my helmet to the pavement because i just can't get it right.

But i guess as a kid I wasn't afraid of falling. I was a kid who always got bumps and scraps, and i really didn't worry about falling, because it happens. Which is probably why my transition off the training wheels was an easy. Once you stop worrying about falling you can concentrate on being balanced, on staying upright.

So i have to get use to the falling. And once i get that fear out of the way, i can ride wherever my bike will take me.

But for right now my bike is parked because i have to study for a math test on Wednesday. This school thing never stops.

Miss USA

Stupidest 2 hours of my life was spent "watching" Miss USA.

I'm glad i never wanted to be Miss USA/America when i was younger.

I wanted to be a Power Ranger. And after watching 2 hours of the show, where last years Tara Conner kept talking about her "recovery" from being a drunk.

I'll take being a Power Ranger any day over a beauty queen.

Falling into Theory

I dig theory.

But i don't dig my uber hot professor having to go over feminism and talk about vagina's all class period. Trust me, i don't think he wanted to talk about vagina's either but the piece we had to read for class was about them. All about them. It was pretty bad, funny bad, weird bad...and despite the giggles which emerged all class period, we survived sentences like "her baby penis clitoris" without completely losing composure and our appetite.

He's grown on me...what can i say.

Katherine sent me an email today. I don't know what it means, perhaps nothing, but i still have no idea what to say.

It's all too much to think about post vagina monologue of a English class and chicken burrito staring me in the face.

March Madness

March sucks...

despite it being the lovely month that my mom, dad, and i were born...I f*cking hate march. It's a long month, spring is here, my nose is itching, and couples are emerging from their caves and showing us how much they love each other. It's enough to make anyone sick.

March has been crazy. Work seems longer, classes seem harder, and i barely have time to recoup from all of it. I can barely get up on time, and i have yelled "I can't find my pants!" too many times to count. My feet once again are dragging me to class and my eyelids grow heavy as soon as my professor speaks, especially during chemistry.

So today as i was dragging myself to work, i was more than surprised to see Katherine's teenage soon in the library. That brought back memories....

Coming back from spring break has overwhelmed me. This whole therapy thing is making me yearn for social interactions even more. I can no longer accept sitting around and feeling like i don't deserve friends. Because truthfully i need friends. I want friends. I want to hang out, and dance, and laugh and ...mainly dance.

I'm smart,and funny, and for the most part a very nice person to be around. And i'm kind of sick of hiding, of being invisible to the world, especially when i'm realizing how much i have to offer it, and how much it has to offer me. Don't worry i'm not becoming a smiley happy person, i'm barely a half smiley happy person must days, but i desperately want connections with people.

I even had this urge to go dancing somewhere. Dancing is very liberating, it's like my whole body working together to be free with the music. And perhaps like that stupid pink song perhaps life is a dance floor, and for once i'd like to dance on it. Because it doesn't matter if you know how to dance, it's just that you are out there doing it. It's just that you're moving your body to the beat of your own song.

Anyway.

Having this new approach to things(once again not in a happy smiley way. But my own half smile, sarcastic, me way) has made me a little brave in conquering the whole anxiety thing. I'm tyring to be brave, i'm trying to test the waters. I'm like Goldilocks, with dark hair, testing each and every pot of porridge, chair, and bed to find the one that s just right for me. I'm not any closer to finding it, but i'm at least i'm looking.

I was feeling good as i walked into the library, until my name was called and I saw her son paying a fine at the desk. I didn't even recognize him; i wish i could say it was beacuse he was wearing a hat, or because my eyes were just adjusting from being outside, but the truth is i didn't recognize him because when i stopped being Katherine's friend, i ultimately had to stop being his.

He's this really cool kid. A skateboarder, digs the same music and movies as me, and is pretty wise. When i did hang out with Kay i usually ditched her to hang out with her son. He reminds me of...well me in a way, and a couple of other people from my past. He's rough around the edges, but has a good head on shoulder. I dug his company more than Kays, and i think he dug mine. He said i wasn't like most of her friends, he felt he could talk to me. He was like the younger brother that i never had. And i feel like if we would have went to high school together he would have been a really good friend.

I instantly felt guilty when i saw him. I joked around with him, asked if he was doing well, and then said goodbye after a few more jokes. I wanted to hug him, or explain why me and Katherine weren't hanging out anymore, but i couldn't bring myself to lie to him. To make excuses. I wanted to know how he was doing, i remember repeating the question over and over again. More for my reassurance then his i think.

Apart of me watching him leave, wanted to go with him...to connect again to that part of my life that isn't mine anymore. To correct some wrong, so i wouldn't feel so guilty for being part of me and Katherine's falling out. Because no matter how crazy she was, i'm beginning to see that it wasn't all her fault. Like art boy, and countless others, i expected so much from her, perhaps more than i should have. And a part of our falling out was my inability to forgive her for her faults, no matter how many she had.

Time to do homework. Advisement is this week and i don't have a clue what i am going to take next semester. I do know that very cute creative writing teacher is not teaching that class next semester. It makes me very sad.

Hitting Cars

I hit a parked car.

Blame Ryan Gosling.

I use the term "hit' loosely because it was more like "grazed" a parked car at Best Buy

SCENE: Best Buy parking lot

Motive: To buy Half Nelson Soundtrack(after seeing the really good movie)

Lets back up a little first:

After deciding today was going to be a movie day, the fam and I headed to Blockbuster to round up some movies. My brother picked Jackass 2, I picked a drama and horror movie, and my mom picked Half Nelson(because she saw Ryan Gosling on the cover).

Despite Gosling being on The Mickey Mouse Club(or was it Kids Incorporated) I think he's a pretty taltened guy. Not bad to look at, pretty good acting chops, yadda yadda.

The movie was good. Seeing Ryan Gosling as a Crack addicted history teacher was too much for me. Why didn't i have a hot History teacher growing up. My history teacher was nice, but he was also 45, overweight and not my cup of tea.

Ryan Gosling was hot, he danced (i am always a sucker for dudes who can dance), and his character was totally a guy i would date, minus the crack addiction. I like guys who know a lot about nothing. I mean i don't consider history nothing, but i dig guys who can tell a good story. Who reads biographies and whose passionate about things. Especially if they aren't things I'm technically as passionate about, because it makes it more fun to learn from him.

Any who. He was great, the movie was great, everything was great about it.

But the music was awesome. Broken Social Scene made me instantly want to have the Cd in my possession. I have a thing about buying full albums off Itunes. I like having some tangible evidence that i just bought something. I like the booklets that come with Cd's and looking at the pictures and reading whatever is in the booklet. It's my things, it's weird but it's my thing.

So after the movie ended i decided to go to Best Buy. I love driving, legal or not, it's a good feeling being behind the wheel. Especially with my music blaring, i feel like James bond...just in a caravan rather than a hot car. I especially like driving when i know where I'm going and what i am going to buy when i get there.

As i got to best buy parking lot i was looking for a really good spot, because deep down i am really just George Costanza in a Ramones shirt and jeans. Let's be honest. I saw a really good spot next to this other caravan, so i started heading to it, but the lady had her door open, just as i was about to inch my way in, so i made a quick turn into another spot. Problem is, I calculated the turn wrong and the next thing you know, there is this loud screeching noise as i am grinding against this big ol' truck

HOLY SHIT.

...Was my first thought. My second thought was did anyone just see that. I look to my left as an old dude totally is looking at me throw the window.

HOLY SHIT.

As i get out, the dude whose truck i just hit, comes walking up to his truck. Of course with my luck, i managed to grind this dudes truck while he was less than 2 feet away from me. GO FIGURE.

I instantly start apologizing. I mean it's the thing to do. He's looking pretty pissed as he examines the "damage". I also use this word loosely because to be honest it wasn't even a scratch, it look like a dirt smudge.

I couldn't believe my eyes when i saw it. It was this small smudge on the side of his car. He still was pissed though and his girlfriend looked on from the sidelines.

He kept repeating that i hit his car and that my turn was too sharp. I keep telling him a little paint here and there and you couldn't even tell. I laughed. He didn't.

Luckily, i am good at calming tense situations. Mainly because i prepare for them in advance.

First: Take complete fault for what happens: The moment you start blaming unseen forces are the moment things get bad. People hate excuses because they don't solve problems they make excuses for circumstances

2nd: Be in and out. When exchanging information, seem like you really care. I was willing to give the dude home and cell number just in case he needed to reach me. Trust me if he called, i wouldn't talk to him like old friends, but it was the point that i was willing to give him all the necessary information

3rd: if all else fails, smile. Trust me it will take you a long way.

Apparently this worked, because the dude didn't even ask to see my non existent license. Thank God.

He took my information, yadda yadda yadda, and then went inside Best Buy.

I instead went home, to my not so pissed mom.

And after all this, Best Buy didn't even have the Half Nelson Soundtrack( i waited at least an hour before returning)

Moral of the story, if i really want a Cd, I'll just buy it from the confines of my computer. Booklet or not.

Cd is pretty good though, sorry i went through all this trouble to get it.

Things I Have Learned This Spring Break

• I want to be a Spartan and have relations with Gerard Butler. At this point he could probably father my children with a face like that


• If i have to look at another baby name book with my brother picking out names like Caesar,Remy, and "wow this name is really stupid" i may throw the book and him out of the nearest window.


• Daniel Craig makes a pretty good 007. And if it wasn't for his scary face, from certain angles, i would consider having relations with him too.


• Maury needs to be cancelled...


• Along with Montel...


• And Rosie is kind of a Bully on the view. And by kind of, I mean she is totally running the show and won't let anyone get a word in otherwise.


• American Idol: so bad to watch it's actually kind of good.


• Having a Sim die actually caused me to grieve, you'll be missed Mark. Father of 3 and Husband to the now grief stricken Emma....


• But have no fear creating a new Sim love interest for grief stricken Be---I mean Emma, modeled after Daniel Craig(when he's not looking like a scary rat), takes some of the grief away


• Driving is fun, and i HAVE to get my license this summer if it takes me 10 attempts. I'll have to face my fear of the lady at the DMV.


• Did i mention that i HAVE to get a car. Driving around in a Minivan is not Cool, blaring Fergie's Glamorous with the windows down of my mom's dodge caravan is unacceptable. Oh Land Rover, how i love thee.


• I'm ready to go back to school. I like my life here, but i like the freedom of my life back at school. Plus i have full control of the remote.


• I'm going to Philadelphia this summer to check out the place i hope to be living in when i graduate from this place. I have Temple Univ in my sights.

On the Road Again

Spring Break is almost over.

I need a car so i can go on a road trips during Spring Break.

I'd cruise the East Coast with windows wide open and Sufjan in the stereo.

I'd stay at motels with weird names, take pictures of landmarks and unseen gems, and buy some sort of token from each place.

I'd go to a concert, order something new from a menu, and sing loudly in the car.

I'd meet the locals and come back with stories about each of them. Perhaps I'll even take their portrait if they'd allow me.

I think a week long road trip would be awesome, seeing new sites, confronting traveling fears, and being brave.

I'd let the journey be the destination.

I need something new to see. Coming home for Spring Break and bumping into the same old faces is draining. I'd like to meet and see new ones, just for a week anyway.

Daylight Savinng

I don't really call coming home a relaxing sort of Spring Break. I like making sure things get done when i am home so when i leave there will be an aroma of comfort for my family to get back to.

We are struggling to decorate the new place. It's been more than a couple of months now and it still looks like we have moved in. Perhaps it was the trauma from my 4th grade art teacher, but i have never been one to like to empty spaces. Blank walls freak me out, and i feel like i am in an hospital. We've looked in every possible magazine, website, and funiture store...and yet we still have no idea of how we want to decorate the new place.

For the past two days when have been driving around, hitting up every department store looking for something that catches us. I realize how different our tastes are, while she picks up another disturbing picture with flowers on it, i pick of pictures of european sights. After two days we ended up with one painting of a leaf. Yep...a LEAF. But at least it's something.

This is the first time in two days i have had time to myself, mainly because my mother is at work, my brother is asleep, and i have locked the cats out of my room(they are not to happy about that). Last week was just crazy exhausting, the week of spring break always seems a little longer than usual. I had a test to study for, Ochem which is just getting harder and harder, and therapy on Wednesday. During all of this i managed to get an awful cold, which has left me with the dreaded "man voice". I sound like Kristie Alley with an accent, it's horrible.

The highlight of the long week was probably therapy. Ever since I started going a common topic of discussion has been my devotion to writing, or rather my wishy washy tendencies with it. I have contemplated changing my major so many times it isn't even funny. Though i know writing is something i am good at, it frightens me to possibly want to major in it.

I describe it in therapy as a relationship. That i am torn between two guys. Biology, who we will name William and writing who will name Evan. Now William is my stable boyfriend. We've been going out for a while, he's reliable, he has a good job, and for the most part he's good to me. But there is a little distance between us, where he is serious and grounded in reality, I'm a dreamer and playful. He doesn't really get my silly ways, he thinks sometimes i can be immature and up in my head. He tries to bring me back down to earth, reminding me that my dreamy ways aren't practical. He wants me to get serious about my life, to stop the daydreams, to grow up already. Everyone loves him though because he promises a stable future. He comes from a good family, he's really handsome, and for the most part he can give me security.

But while dating William, i met a new guy...Evan. He's an artist, and he gets my ways. He's fun and he's playful and he knows who i am. I can be myself around him. I can be fearful, strong, brave, funny, and sad and he accepts all of them. He doesn't ask me to convert, he doesn't try to make me something i'm not...he lets me dance silly, cry on his shoulder, and accompanies me on new adventures. He's lovely, and odd...but he gets me....fully and completely. And i think i'm in love.

The problem is the more and more i convince myself to stay with William the more Evan draws away from me. He loves me just as i am, but cannot accept this relationship if i continue to turn him away. Sure William has a good job, sure he can provide a comfortable lifestyle, but is that what i really want? If i can't even bare to look at him in the face without seeing the one who i really want to be with, then what i am doing with William. He wants me to give him a commitment. He wants me to love him, not just feel it, but to LOVE him as he has proved that he loves me.

Perhaps Evan can't promise stability now, perhaps the journey through life will be an uphill battle(for now) but i see potential with him. I see happiness with him. I see adventures, and laughter, and comfortable kisses on my head just because he wants to.

But i'm just scared, scared that following my heart will be more strenuous. Even though it's something i desperately want.

I feel like Evan, writing, is boarding a train to somewhere great and he's waiting for me to join him. I'd have to give up everything i thought was right(William, Biology, etc) to go with him. And i'm at that crossroad right now. Lingering in this life with William(BIO) staring at everything he and it has to offer and knowing that it isn't for me. And i want to pack my bags and leave, head to the train station where Evan awaits and take his hand as he leads to me to great unknown.

I'm just hoping all my indecision's won't make me miss that train, because when he's gone i don't know if he will ever come back to take me with him, and then i'd be stuck here in this place consumed with regret for not following my heart. For not letting him know how much i love him, and that i desperately want him back.

I can exhaust myself sometimes.

SPRING BREAK!!!

I leave today for spring break and i am as sick as dog. It's horrible, the whole point of spring break is to have a good time during the week off and THEN get sick. I get sick before it, nevertheless spring break couldn't have come any sooner. I plan on relaxing and writing and buying new things. Goodbye school and hello big comfy bed.

A full post when i get home. For sure.

Revolving Door

I remember there was this stupid movie staring Gwyneth Paltrow called Sliding Doors that came out around 1998.

I was 12, and even then knew the movie was pretty lame. You know when you have those moments where you wonder what could have happened if you had taken another route. If you had taken that trip, turned that corner, or went out with that guy instead of doing the polar opposite. Well that's basically what the movie is about, expect the character misses a train and for what seemed like 3 hours the movie traces what would have happened is she caught the train or when she missed the train and examined how different or similar her life would be(but of course in a very cheesy hollywood way).

Some days i get into those "sliding doors" moments. Where something small like a commercial will make me think of the path i have not taken. I was lying in bed yesterday and flipping through the channels where i stumbled on a familiar face. My first crush in the "whole entire world" brother is an actor. He's been on Law and Order, The Bronx Tale, and some other crap like that and some days i get the unfortunate pleasure of seeing his face plastered on my Tv. As i lay there staring at the brother of the dude i majorly crushed on when i was a kid...i had a fleeting sliding doors moment. I wondered how things differently things would have been if i had just taken another path.

I hate getting those feelings, i'm trying to overcome those feelings. I am trying to live in the moment, right now, present tense, not in the shadow of" what if's". "What if's" are "What if's" for a reason. Right? At least that's what i am attempting to tell myself as i ponder over them endlessly in my mind.

To me the "what if's" are the turns you take in the sliding doors. Cause if you think about it, unless you step out of the revolving doors to head out into the street or into the store, you can get stuck in them forever. And perhaps i have been spinning in that revolving door longer than need be. Perhaps it's easier to stay in them, then to finally make a decision to take one path and stick with it..."whats if" left at the door.

But i haven't gotten to that point yet, and that's probably why today sucked. It could have been because of the number of times i tripped, or the number of times i dropped a book on my foot, but regardless today sucked and now i have to go to a hall meeting and pretend to ignore Music Boy.

Life.

Oh...but Mike did buy me cheesecake for my birthday. Clearly he knows the way to my heart is through sweets. I didn't even think he would care that it was my birthday, but on Friday he dragged me to some pastery store and bought me the hugest cheesecake ever. It was pretty nice of him.

My birthday was pretty good, the weather sucked and everyone dragged around as if death was knocking on their door, but i was pretty happy. It was my special day, and even though not a lot of people knew it was birthday...i was just happy that 21 years in the making and i turned out pretty okay.

My mom mailed me a goodie box, full of the Sims Nightlife ("so you can get smashed via simulated people on your birthday and not feel bad about it" direct quote from my mother), candy, cards, clothes, and what not.

I got calls from friends and family, and then i passed out after eating a pizza pie and watching a marathon of Dead Like Me. I figure when i finally get the good group of friends that a girl deserves my birthday will be a little bit different, but now i am totally content with how things went.

I head home this week for spring break to celebrate with my mom. Hopefully a car will be in the works for me or something, but i don't think that's going to happen. I do know i am totally getting a bottle of wine, it's the adult way. And I'm adult. Whatever that means.

Back to studying.

UMMM.....

HAPPY BIRTDHAY TO ME!!!!!

That's all. I have a class to skip and an exam to study for.

What a way to start the BDAY celebration. I'm still excited regardless of Ochem exam looming before me.

The Day Before....

Today isn't even my birthday and yet i felt all the love today. It was amazing.

I woke up today with a test on my mind, headache, and missing a pair of very awesome pants.

So i headed to class with my not so awesome jeans, big t-shirt and...an European Lit exam on my mind.

The European lit test wasn't as easy as i thought it was going to be. I hate MC and "identify this quote" kind of questions, cause it's most likely that i am going to guess on both MC and ID, which is exactly what i did.

The short answers were detailed, but i did really well on those so maybe I'll get a B after all. As i go to hand in my test nervous young professor(who was reading and writing on something all through test) calls my name. I didn't hear him the first time, so he said it again. He said he finally answered the email i sent him this Saturday, and that "yadda yadda yadda i'm a flipping genius and that he wants to have my kids".

Okay he didn't say that but he could of. He did say that i was smart, but that he wishes i would ask these questioning DURING class(not that he has a problem with me sending him emails), we whispered for a few moments over the key points in my email and then he said

Mr. G: "I especially think this statement is true"

i thought he was talking about something in my email so like a dork i was like

ME: This paragraph (placing my finger to something i had written)

he placed his finger to something he had scribbled at the end of the page

Mr G: No this one

What i didn't know was that the thing he was working and scribbling on during the test was MY email, and one of the things he wrote was "You have a real future in this field: You ask great and imaginative questions"

WTF!!!!!

I laughed it off and then told him i would send him some questions once i get an idea of what i am going to write my paper on. I said thank you, looked JOSH in the face and left the room.

The day only got better from there. Mike wasn't a complete douche bag, i got a free sandwich and T-shirt because i volunteered for 20 minutes(meaning Mike volunteered and got credit along with him), i also got candy.

Then at work, i got a nice early birthday card(because i don't work Thursday's, which means i don't work on my birthday) from my co-workers, plus several "HAPPY BIRTHDAY" from them. It was pretty nice. Even if today isn't my birthday. I sure felt like it.

I feel extremely special on this birthday. Like i have hit my first birthday milestone. Turning 16 and 18 were kid stuff, but there is something about 21 that's like "I've been alive 21 years...TAKE THAT PRETEENS!"


I keep waiting for the day when i won't be so enthused about my Bday, but so far today isn't that day. I walked around with my huge birthday box willing to tell anyone who was anyone that though today isn't my birthday, tomorrow is.

The highlight of the day was totally my English teacher writing that comment though. It makes me wonder why i resist becoming a writer, when it's apparently something i have a knack for. I was thinking about writing and that sometimes it feels like i am in relationship with it, and that I'm not fully willing to let myself be totally comfortable with it(in the "this is what i am going to do for the rest of my life" kind of way). I'll have to expand on that tomorrow perhaps, because right now i have a Organic test to study for, and lets just say it's going to be rough.

and in case i don't get to this here blog tomorrow( because I've passed out from heavy pizza munching and candy)

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME. MARCH 1ST!!!! BIG 21!!!!!

Why i hate Roommates

The reason i hate roommates is because on the night before a big exam my stupid roommate decides to have a get together with her friends.

Not just one friend, not even two friends, but a least 5 very loud, inconsiderate douches who are talking rather loudly at 12am.

I don't understand it. I totally understand that part of the college means having a blast with friends, but another part of it is being considerate to your other roommates who potentially have test going on

If i wasn't so passive aggressive, i would storm out of this room and tell them rather politely to "shut the F*ck up"but because i have no balls and do not want to cause rift between my roommates i lie here typing away on my computer, holding back my frustrations.

Me and Nietzsche have a long night together.

Somebody help me.

Accidently on Purpose

My head hurts really bad.

I had a lab today and we messed with some weird chemicals that i may or may not have totally inhaled. Sure they say don't inhale the stuff, but there are about 30 students squeezed into a small lab room, handling, dropping, spilling waste everyday...you can't help but inhale some of the stuff accidentally when it's every where around you. Needless to say i am feeling very sick, and am cursing the fact that i have three exams this week.

I had been working on my nerves for this coming week because i had planned to say Hi to Music Boy. I had planned to go to the Amnesty International meeting, i had planned a lot of things, but putting all sorry excuses aside i have an Ochem, Theory and European Lit exam, Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday and when i haven't been camped out in the library i have been passed out in my bed. My theory professor keeps remarking on how hard his tests are, and because he doesn't seem like a man who lies i have been studying like no ones business.

Amnesty meeting...totally not attending, can't do it, i don't fail my test to say hi to a boy who i may or may not even be crushin on. So i instead was planning a little "bump into him while i walk" scheme

I use to do when i was younger. Being extraordinarily clumsy has it perks. You bump into someone, do the quick and cute conversation about how clumsy i am, flash a winning smile and...KAZAAM...i have started a conversation.

Me and Music Boy always kind of run into each other in the morning. It's like that stupid Howie Day Song "You and i Collide"...except thus far there has been no collision. Only misses. So i was thinking, if i happen to bump into to Music Boy ,well then I'd have to say something, even if it was "sorry I'm a clumsy fool". The plan was error proof. I would leave my English class as i had always done, equipped with a book that i would read while i was walking, i would be so immersed in the book that i would "not" notice Music boy as he runs into me(or vice versa).

As soon as i would bump into him, dropping book, i would say something like:

Me: this is why i don't read and walk at the same time, not a talent i have acquired i guess.

He would say something brief, i would smile, and then yadda yadda yadda i would have said something to him and at least made a very cute if not awkward impression.

What i wasn't counting on was my English teacher going over the 50 minutes we are suppose to have. I bolted from the room, book in hand, iPod dangling on the ground and ran towards the center of campus. I don't even think the book was upright, as i was literally dropping everything around me.

Music boy....no where in sight. I put my book in my book bag and trudge along to work, where who come strolling my way...you guessed it Music Boy. He was late i was early(from the running apparently) and my chance was gone.

F*cking English.

maybe i should try a new technique other than one i mastered when i was 12. I don't see how it worked then, it sure as hell didn't work today.

A good old "hello" will have to do.

Time to study. Nietzsche is calling me.

Invitation:

I got invited to a work related get together.

While studying for Ochem in the library a kid from work told me about a game party they hold every month and that i was welcomed to come.

Apparently a bunch of people from work play Halo in a big meeting room once a month. A total blast i hear.

And though i had to decline because i have 3 (YES 3) TESTS to study for, i was just happy that i was invited to go. ME INVITED to GO.

They will be having another game party next month, and though I'm only good at cheering for those who play games (it was all i was allowed to do when i was younger. Watch my cousins and brother play as i cheered on from the sidelines), i wouldn't mind trying my hand at it. How hard can Halo be?

They Like Me, THEY REALLY LIKE ME

Time to study...seriously.

W is for WHORRIBLE.

I am constantly wearing a scarlet letter.

I have never read the book but i did see the movie with Demi Moore and Gary Oldman( i know...BAD) .

The short boy and his short girlfriend are making me feel like the other woman. I do not believe it is intentional, but i can't help but feel like a scuzzy whore when i walk past him and his fiance who suddenly get really quiet and avert their eyes.

He now only acknowledges my existence when she isn't their. This coldness is coming from the kid who only months earlier was hugging me in an aisle because he said i looked huggable. Now i not only get the cold shoulder but a glare that is causing me to dislike him and his uber nice girlfriend.

But in good news: William(the kid who works with me, the one i described as smelling like garbage) said he hasn't talked to me in long while and missed that. Like he actually wants to talk to me. ME. He wants too talk to me about things. WTF. I smiled, and gave him some cereal from my secret stash. I must work on talking to him, because clearly he likes talking to me.


Today i went to therapy. It's been a while since my last visit(or should i say confession). I must say i am learning a lot at therapy, i can even see the changes in my attitude and demeanor. As soon as i walk into her room i am like "OMG!!! You won't believe the week i had...", it wasn't until a couple of days ago that i began realize that i am not really that anxious anymore( ignore the art boy entry for the time being). I mean not in the "I'm drowning please get me out" way.

With anxiety not being such a focal point in my life I'm trying to find myself after being in it's shadow for so long. But now I am not merely awkward because i fear saying something stupid, but also a little awkward because well...i don't know how to interact with the people i have been hiding from for so long.

I remember last year i wrote a lot about feeling disconnected from people. But i never really realized apart of those disconnections were because of me. Apart of me doesn't get too close to anyone, i stay a fair distance away, looking on wanting to be apart of the crowd, but not feeling adequate enough to join them.

My whole life i have escaped things. Leaving situations and people before seeing what the outcome would be. Sometimes i feel like i am use to leaving in the middle of an important game, or movie. I never find out what happened, who won, who lost, and i don't get to witness any great moments in between. I'm just moving on to a new game, with the old one fresh on my mind, yearning to find out what happened.

That is my way with people. I'm good with introductions, i give a little bit of myself, and then retreat, not even waiting to see what could happened if i stayed awhile. My disconnections in large part are coming from me. I turn people away before the good stuff happens.

My therapists says it's because I'm afraid. Afraid of the process, the middle part, because the middel part of the game is where we are most vulnerable, when we are at our greatest risk. And maybe that's why i always leave before the good things happen. Before i can see the outcome, because that is where it matters the most, where the risks are high.

But I'm sick of walking around with my scarlet letters. I'm sick of being Ashamed, Embarrassed, and down right Afraid of being who i am. I desperately want connections, because we all need them. It's apart of the process, and for once I'm beginning to think i deserve the good things. I deserve them.

Scarlett letter for today:

W for Worthy

The Return...

....OF ART BOY!!!

I couldn't believe it myself when i came strolling out an aisle with cereal shoved in my mouth. and saw the beautiful face before me.

I almost chocked on my damn cereal, tripped over my cart, and fainted...all at once when i saw him.

He was so close to me, it was unbearable. He was talking with one of his friends, leaning against the desk, looking as hot as ever.

I hyperventilated. My heart was racing. My palms were sweaty.

He was messy and gorgeous and...he was ART BOY.

Oh...ART BOY.

Damn ART BOY.

After wiping up my drool i strutted past him, and then collapsed behind a stack of books.

I'm a dork.

In Escrow...Again

My mom called me to tell me her trip is not going so well. She had hyped up everyone and every detail ( so that's where i get it from ) so much that those ideals could not hold up to her expectations.

Old friends are just that...new haircuts, added or lost weight, with new drama

Family...still doing as they have always done. My uncle is still a drunk, My dad is still in love with her, My aunt dealing with a teenager and a baby.

Needless to say she is ready to come home. Home? did I just call this place home? I spent so many years being angry with this place, that i hadn't realize it was slowly becoming a home. My mother didn't realize this either. But after a horrible date with the "can do no wrong" James, she has changed her mind. Changing mine along the way.

I am beginning to close up shop at that place that i call home. I'm packing the boxes of memories and "should of, could of," and am ready to move on. Its kind of liberating to write that, not as scary as i imagined it to be. Saying goodbye only allows me to usher in something else, something full of possibilities.

I always imagined that when we moved it was us who were left behind. I always felt bad returning because everything around me was new and different. But i hadn't realized until today was the we had changed also. We had grown and moved in different directions. And though my past will always be something i look fondly on, it isn't something i can return to.

This new fond...closure makes me feel a little brave about the future.

Even brave enough to make eye contact with Music Boy today as he nearly ran me off the sidewalk as i was freezing my butt off.

Scenario: Due to a mix up i ended up taking the wrong English class this semester. I have to take English Lit II and English lit I, i accidentally am in the English Lit II class though i haven't taken the first one yet. I mean it's not like it matters but i usually like taking 1 before 2.

If i would have taken 1 this semester i would have had another class with Music boy( and i wouldn't have to wake up at 6:30 everyday. It sucks). Other than listening to his music everyday i don't really get to see him as much. I don't know whether i like him or just want to be his friend, whatever the case when i do see him i get nervous and giddy( yes..giddy), but not in the art boy kind of way.

The only time i really get to see him is when i am leaving my class, and he is well...walking to it. Its been like this for the last 4 weeks, we cross paths at the same intersection, i avert eyes, scurry, and then curse anxiety for the whore that it is.

But today was extremely cold. I mean teeth chattering, finger numbing, nose dripping cold, and i was wearing a light jacket. So as i was walking i saw Music Boy heading straight towards me. I couldn't even turn the corner and head in another direction...it was just too cold. So instead we nearly collided doing the awkward Superbowl Shuffle trying not to knock each other over. Which led to eye contact and a smile!!!!!

Next week i AM going to the Amnesty Meeting(which he ,and apparently me, is in ) and I am going to say something to him. What that something is I don't know. Am i nervous...Yes. But hopefully this "I can conquer the world" feeling will carry out into next week, as i attempt to make Friends(or at least an acquaintance ) with him.

I would like to acquaint myself with him.

Or at least get past "HEY!"

Jesus my heart is pounding just thinking about it.

But i'm feeling a little brave...a little

Oh and my birthday is next Thursday. the BIG 21.

Burrito Time.

A Bitter Song

For the first time since we have moved my mom has ventured back home..Alone.

Every year we head back to Westchester to visit friends and family. It's kind of torturous to go home every year to just leave it again. It feels like we are leaving permanently for the first time over and over again, and i usually get very pissed while packing up my clothes on our final day in Westchester knowing that we are returning to the very place that i feel has beaten me down these last couple of years.

Our first trip back was surreal, we had expected home would be as we had left it, but we realized how much everything had changed around us, and ultimately how much we had changed along the way. I tried endlessly to snap a million pictures of everything that had meant something to me as a child, but realized that there was too much and that it couldn't make up for not being there.

But this year i was unable to make the trip(because of school) and my mom ventured by herself without me and Morg by her side. She called me before she headed on her way and told me how sad she was that i wasn't with her "it's kind of lonely traveling by yourself" she said on the message she left me. And i hadn't realize how lonely i would feel in being left behind or that she would have to experience the memory of being home by herself.

As a kid we moved around a lot, or at least what i consider as being a lot. My mom left my dad in the middle of the night and we never looked back. We moved in with my grandmother for several years, than to New Rochelle for several years, to where we live now for several years. Sometimes i feel like we are always on the run, escaping something bigger and scarier than we could ever imagine, and i have sort of learned never to look back, that you always have to keep moving, because looking back only slows you down.

I think this constant moving never really makes you feel settled as a human being. I kind of always have one foot out the door with bags packed ready to go when the time is right.See that was thing when i was a kid i always remember leaving right when i was getting comfortable. When i began to develop friends, or when i began developing crushes. Just when they seem to be going well, we'd pack up suddenly and leave, and what always lingered was what could have been.

When we return home, when we return to the school ground, corner stores and old neighbors i never really realized that what i was missing about home wasn't the built memories and faces, but all that we had left in our past when we escaped it.

Sometimes i feel like we are returning to this unfinished sort of home. We are returning to something we hastily abandoned; door and windows are wide open, beds unmade, tv still on, and fleeting presence caught in time like a snap shot...this unresolved mess that makes it hard to gain closure with it.

Is it sad that my constant memory as a child is being reminded to never look back. That i have learned to never get close because i will just have to leave.The cab ride that night that drove my mom, brother and I to safety where i sat in her lap never turning back, the car ride away from my grandmothers which was more like a fun ride than a well deserved goodbye, and finally the biggest trip of all in which my half hearted goodbye was in due part because we didn't know what awaited us so far away.

Perhaps being so wrapped up in my childhood home has nothing to do about the sweet memories it produces, but rather the memories i feel i never got to develop. And every time i go back, it isn't for some reminder that my home exists. That there was a time i attended I.E. Young Middle School, played at 5 Island Park, or that I kissed my friend Jason near the tree at the park across from our house( i was 7 it doesn't count as a first kiss) .

Maybe returning for me is a way for me to finally close the windows and doors i leave open for my return. To ask my home for forgiveness in abandoning it so hastily, for never really saying goodbye.

I'm kind of sad i didn't get to do that this year. This goodbye is well overdue.