SAG Awards

There's nothing like a good old award show (and kind and uplifting words from K and her friend C) to pull me out of my funkness.



general observations from my bed on award night:



-Angelina Jolie sure does look pregnant

-I'm a little over Juno and Ellen Page already. We get it, it's darling. She's darling. The whole damn movie is darling.

-Ryan Gosling was rocking that grey suit.

-I hope i look as good as _______,________, ______ when i get that age

-I hope i don't look as bad as Ashley Tisdale when i get that...wait we are the same age. "What happened to your face?"

-Javier. You're so pretty. Marry me.

Damn i love award shows.

I've had a lot of time to think over a lot of things ( and have come to some pretty profound conclusion in the process, which of course i have to write about.). I'm lucky that i have a therapist who lets me ramble for however long I want to before the the session is over. I talk so much sometimes i feel like i am hosting a show on my life, and he is my only audience member.

I told him i was going crazy. That i was being my generally anxious self again except at a much higher level. I told him that sometimes i resist change so much that i succeed in having everything remain the same, so i could linger for a while. I told him that i was scared, that i feel unprepared, that sometimes it's easier to just be nothing then to try to be somebody. But that i want to be somebody so much I'm having to get over my fear and except change as a part of the process. It's easier to give up, i told him, to settle for mediocre so that the fall, if i happen to fail, won't hurt as bad. I don't know if i can do it, I admitted. I don't know if i can suffer the fall which comes along with whatever changes that will and are coming in my life.

"But you haven't?" Is all he said "Why do you think that is?"

And it's because no matter how low i get, i always fight my way back to the surface. And when i do emerge, it is with a clarity of the present situation and with more determination to figure out all the insanity that going on inside my head.

That's pretty much where i am at right now. Not as suffocating as i thought it would be.

Now back to daydreaming about Javier Bardem.

The Sea Inside.

I once read a book about madness and it's different forms. I was walking around the library as usual, taking an on the clock break and eating cereal when the title "She's out of her mind" caught my eye.

I have a thing for walking around the aisles until something a title looks like something i might read. Though working at the library isn't particularly my idea of a fun time, it is where i can get all my thinking done. And has been a bit of a comfort this last week.

It's so quiet there. The beginning of the semester means that we see more books being brought back then we do students. And for the time being i find solace in that.

As i was walking down the short story aisle i stumbled on a book on madness written by female authors who experienced some lapse in their emotional state at one time or another. It was pretty interesting because despite the word madness there is nothing particularly angry about it.

Whether it be anxiety or emotionally prone it is something that doesn't render you mad just..on the verge of falling apart. I cannot even begin to explain last week or understand well enough to write about. It's like i was this functioning human being who wanted nothing more than to throw in the towel and give it all up.

It was the scariest feeling i have ever felt in my whole entire life. I felt like i was going "mad". I felt like i was falling apart but the pieces were disconnecting faster than i could catch them I wish i had some better understanding of it other than "i was on the verge of going mad". But that is what it felt like at the time. Maybe it was a panic attack? I don't know but in the last couple of days i have been trying to understand it and sort of hope that i never get to that place again.

And i figured out that all kind of comes down to this: I am afraid of change. I've always been afraid of change. And yet at some pivotal point in my life where change is coming more quickly than i'd like.

I blame change for everything. For my unhappiness, for my anxiety and after last week i blame it for what i'll call my first real panic attack. It was easier growing up and being able to place all the sudden changes in my life on family and friends. "The Great Move" was a huge in my life and that was all my mom's doing...and she got the brunt of my resistance towards it.

Going to college , meeting or not meeting friends, my anxiety...i blame that shit on unnecessary changes caused by no other than other people.

However what i have come to learn is that not only am i horrible at adapting to change but i don't have the faith in myself to believe that i can completely adjust to it without failing in some way. Or falling apart as change around me happens.

It seems to be every where friends, work, school, family, pets, and even on this blog. There is

change a brewing and all i can seem to think "i'm not ready for it quite yet. Let me linger here for a while until i figure it all out"

In a few months i will be graduating school, i will be venturing out on my own and any highs and/or lows that will occur in my life rest on me. It's a time when the safety net is slowly being removed from under me, when the training wheels have too come off, and when that first push off the high bars determine how I will land.

And i guess apart thinks that without those safety precautions i am going to hurt myself. Not only will i fail but i will end up with a scratched knee, a bruised ego, and no more heart to continue...trying.

I wonder if you can go mad from just not knowing. I don't really know what i want to do after college ( just that writing is involved), i don't know where i want to live (anywhere but here), i don't know anything. And i slowly sinking in not knowing what i feel like i am suppose to know. I am sinking in the turbulent change that i know is occurring around and within.

I don't exactly feel like i did last week. But my head is still somewhere my body is miles from reaching. I feel like the pieces of my once congruent self are all floating atop a vast sea before me. And the further the individual pieces drift out to sea the harder i know it will be for them to come together so i can have the mobility to swim inland.

For now floating isn't so bad. The current isn't strong and the water is warm. But i don't know when a storm will come and completely knock all the pieces so far away from one another, that they will just become lost out there.

Suite Mates.

In between my nervous breakdown, i ran into my suite mate last night.

Not having a roommate is wicked awesome. I get to do whatever i want in my room whenever i want without someone crowding my space. It's awesome.

In the dorm i live in now i share a bathroom with the people who live in the room next door. When I moved in, i immediately introduced myself to the person i would be sharing the bathroom with. I didn't want her to walk into the bathroom one day and see some shit in there that wasn't hers.

Her name was Heath (yes. Like Heathcliff) and she was to a degree she was nice. I mean i dicd knockon her door she was taking a nap. My bad. I didn't have to many run ins with her however throughout the rest of the semester. She kept the bathroom kind of clean, she was kind of loud, but other than that i didn't say much to her.

During the middle of the semester however, her single dorm became a double when some girl moved in. Just like Heath, i didn't really see or talk that much either. It was so hard to decipher between whether it was a friend coming out of her room or her roommate.

When i came back to school on Sunday, i noticed that every thing that Heath put in the bathroom had been removed. She had this huge blue plastic dresser, hair products and other such things that were suddenly gone. Plus the bathroom was the cleanest i had seen it since i moved in. At first i was like...YES!! I get a bathroom all by myself. No more random toilet flushing or people talking on the crapper. Just me. Yeah.

But on Tuesday, i heard the door open to the bathroom. It opened slowly and then closed real quickly and then opened again. I thought i was hearing a ghost or something because i was sure that Heath had moved.

So last night around 8:30 when i was watching American Idol (only the audition episodes) i heard a knock on my door and a quiet voice that said hello.

I was right in assuming that Heath had moved out, but i was wrong in assuming that the other roommate wasn't there either. Because she still was. I don't know how to explain the next two hours of my life. After we introduced ourselves it was as if we formed some weird friendship standing in the bathroom. She came in my room, i went into hers and we even talked in our adjoining bathroom.

For two hours we talked about our majors, and having a single room, addhd (which she claims she has), sleep disorders, anxiety, hot professors...I mean it was the weirdest thing ever. We forged some insane connection in the matter of minutes. She's weird and shy, and entirely too smart for her own good. She's like me. I kept trying to end the conversation (not because i wanted to but it was getting late) only to be deterred into another one. When it was all over and done, and i closed my door i had this "what the hell just happened".

It was weird. People shouldn't get along that well when they first meet should they? But we did.

I said i could help her with English (because she sucks at it) and she said she would help me with math (even though she's about a semester too late).

Weird encounter. Yes. But pleasant. HMMM.

Sanity Drive...

It was kind of refreshing to hear someone else say they were going insane today. Of course it was said by someone at work and her sunny disposition did not convince me that she was going insane at all ...but it was still nice.

I think my body is trying to tell me something. Maybe that's why i am not feeling like myself. I feel just overwhelmed like everything is moving too fast and i am barely hanging on.

My mom tells this merry-go-round story all the time for a laugh. It's that small things that make me giggle and she knows her merry-go-round story always does the trick. If you ever been to Playland (amusement in Rye New York) there is really cool carousel in the center of the park.

We went as a family when me and my brother were pretty young and my mom really wanted to go on Merry-go-round. After a long day at the park she wanted a calm ride on some fake horses with corny music playing in the background. Unfortunately this wasn't your normal sort of Carousel. Instead it was super fast one intended for people looking for a rush, which she didn't know till she got on it.

While me and brother watched from the sidelines we were kind of wondering why the horses were going so fast. It was just a blur as the horses sped up, and after a while all we heard was our mom yelling.

When she got off the ride she looked pretty rough and we headed home. Only later did she tell us that she was gripping the horse so tightly because she was falling off. Someone had to help her off the ride since she was glued to the horse when it stopped.

That's pretty much how i feel now, like i am holding on to the reins of a very fast horse and i'm kind of waiting for the ride to stop.

of course i should not have discussed my kind of breakdown with my mother last night, who doesn't deal with awkward conversations well.

Mom: How are you doing? Were classes okay?

Me: So far so good. By the way I think i'm going insane

Mom: (long pause) YEAH....well i'll talk to you later get some rest.

If i hadn't stopped her i think she would have hung up the phone. Literally. I could hear her cell phone closing as the words came out of my mouth.

My body and my head just feel disconnected and it's mainly because i feel incredibly indecisive...about everything. I feel unprepared to graduate because i feel like pinpointing where my writing interest lie is all over the place. I feel unprepared to move because my anxiety still limits from getting to know people. I just feel unprepared, like i've walked into a class and the teacher has just given a pop quiz. Except this quiz is more like a test. And i did i mention that it's 75% of my grade.

When i say that i need a break...i seriously need one so i can think everything through. So i can figure what i want to do with myself. Based on the sucky short story i submitted for the 2 graduate schools i applied too...i think that's coming in the near future.

I would a love a break. And that is what my body and sanity is telling me. I mean it wouldn't be like a lounge around break, but more a of dabble here and there in screenwriting workshops, get an apartment and job that pays a little more than library does. Travel. Something.

And i don't think I'm listening to my body. And that's why it's shutting down and i feel like i am going crazy.

I just hope that i take a breather so i don't completely go down hill.

Happiness wrapped in a hula hoop

One of the few things that makes me smile these days.

My future husband with a hula hoop. I'm in love all over again.

Lose Myself.

I think I'm losing my mind...literally.

I was lying in bed yesterday, under the covers at 2 in the morning staring at the white sheets before me. I was still working on my grad school short story and had called it a night, after a frustrating hour of writing. My head was pounding. It was as if my mind had suddenly become that weird white room with cushy walls. And the person that use to me was locked inside and hitting the walls with all her might to get out. Then this thought came to me while the image of the white walls clouded my vision: "I'm going in insane" is all i could say. It was as simple as that soon followed by tears.

I don't know who i am anymore. Applying to grad school, and trying to graduate from this school, and thinking about how the hell i am going to pay for anything has just drowned me lately. I don't even feel like i am above surface anymore, i just feel like i am drowning and the weights on my legs just keep pulling me further and further down until eventually i will suffocate.

I feel all this pressure to be someone and i think it's due to the misconceptions i have about myself. What does success mean for me? What will make me happy? If this is my path why am so self conscious on it? It's pretty difficult trying to graduate and figure out what i want to do with my life all at once. My mind and body are simply disconnected as of late and I'm going crazy. i can feel it. I don't know what going crazy is completely like for i have never done it before...but something tells me that i am losing grip.

I have slipped and fallen down a very dark hole. And the girl i once knew is lost.

Ready. Set. Go.

Classes start tomorrow. Blah.

Though dorms opened on Monday, i saw no need to come back as soon the doors open. I didn't mind lingering around the house for another week and watching endless hours of tv. I got some reading and writing done, but lets be honest my Christmas holiday was spent lounging around to the sounds of my cats purring and Cnn. The high life i tell you.

Leaving wasn't as refreshing as it usually is. I actually dreaded coming back to school. I am so sick of school i think it is exuding from my skin. I minus well wear a bumper sticker saying "get me the hell out of here, i am drowning in academics". No not even a bumper a sticker, i need to make a t-shirt for my frustrations.

One more semester to go and I'm hanging on a thread. 6 classes, 2 summer classes and then i am free. FREE.

Free to do what? I don't know yet. But free nonetheless

YEAH!!!!!

Blockage

"it was a dark and stormy night..."

"The night was humid..."

"The night was dry yet raining..."

"The clouds were dark...."

"The storm...."

Excuse me for the absence and lack of posting. Writing a short story is harder than i thought and i have less than one week to do it. I recently saw Throw Momma From The Trainfor the 50th time and am now understanding the writers frustration.

I think i have been on "the wind howled" for two weeks now. I don't have any characters, any setting but simply "the wind howled...". I think if i heard a wind howl right now i would throw my computer and this stupid short story out the window.

Thanks wind and your dumb howling.

Happenings.

I got an A in 2 classes

I got a B in two others

I got robbed of a B in the last one (that bastard. Surprisingly it is not Mr. Douchebag or Lovely Environmental lit professor).

My head hurts because my brother gave me a cold. He's still as a douche as usual and i spend my days avoiding him so that i won't stab him.

Marie has gained 70 pounds and has dragged me to several movies just so she can talk about her weight in between character dialogue

My mom and I went crazy Christmas shopping and now we are both broke. But we make up for the lack of money with late night coffee talks and digging through our closets to examine old clothes.

Mom has also agreed that going to Scotland will make a nice graduation present ( i saw the travel books in her car the other day).

The grey cat is peaceful and content. Sleeping all day and chilling all night. But the other cat is dealing some behavioral problems ( pooping and peeing where she shouldn't be) and likes sleeping on the toilet.

I have a short story due in less than 4 weeks that i am having problems with. Plot, character, endings and beginnings are overwhelming me and i have that to thank for some sleepless nights and drowsy mornings.

My body aches from this flu like thing that i have. I'll be back in business once i can breathe out of my nose again and the coughing subsides.

~Beckett

The Short End Of It. Part 2

The idea of writing my graduate school short story is daunting.



Seriously.



For the past couple of days i have unsuccessfully put myself under a writing schedule. Wake up. Write. Nap. Write. Dance with cats. Write. Nap. Write. Eat. Write. Sleep



I have not exactly stuck to this plan though. Not with all the christmas stuff and tv watching.



It's not that i don't have ideas. Because i do. I'm full of stories that i want to tell and write. Sometimes i get confused about the technical side of things ( 1st person, 3rd person, settings, and narrative voice) but i know the first moment i put my hands onto the keys something will come out. Something.



However i have been unable to open up Microsoft Word and type anything. My fingers seem petrified to do so.



I admit i am hella nervous about writing this story. Every time i go to put something down on paper i think "this could be the sentence that gets me in to a writing program or not". And i guess the knowledge of that is making this process a hard one.



I've going to have to put my nerves somewhere though, chanel it so it doesn't stunt me like it has.

Enviromental Lit

I can not explain how much this class has changed my life. I enjoyed going every Tuesday and Thursday and my teacher (author, professor, and nature writer extraordinaire) was exceptional. I think it is the first time i have ever been sad as i turned in an exam. Not the kind of "shit i failed this test/class" sad. But a "I'm not going to ever sit in this class and listen to him speak about nature as if it is divine" sort of sad.

The exam wasn't that hard just long and thorough. I was one of the last to leave and probably the saddest as i handed in my paper. I feel like i have him to blame and thank for wanting to climb mountains and see the world, not just see it, but be a participant of it.

One exam down, two more to go, and portfolio to turn in.

I'm so tired but so close to the end.

Playing Favorites?

Two weeks ago...Well really...at the beginning of the year, Mr. McDouchebag said that we would have to give presentations at the end of the semester. Basically we would have to read a book by a creative nonfiction writer, print out some handouts and give a short presentation in front of the class.

Of course i was not feeling this. There was a time when giving speeches wasn't a big deal. I'd get nervous of course, but my voice and legs would not shake, and my determination got me through it.However because of a) anxiety and b) never having to do a presentations at my school, i just am not use to public speaking anymore. Yesterday i had to read two poems in front of my creative writing class, and my legs were so wobbly i thought i would fall over.

For the last two weeks though i knew we had to give our presentations for Mr. McDouchebags class, but i didn't read any books by a creative nonfiction writer and was wavering on whether i would fully commit to this 5-10 minute speech.

Thanks to the lovely people at the GRE i actually had excuses for the two days of class i missed. Monday i was in the library going over words like nebula, and on Wednesday i knew that after a four hour exam i wasn't going to go to class. I emailed him on Monday to tell him that I would be absent in his class. I was hoping that by today we would just wrap things up, turn in portfolio's and do evaluations.

I spent the whole night revising the essays i wrote for the class. I actually even took his suggestions to heart trying to use the comments i thought counted and discard the ones based on his personal style as writer.

Once i actually went over his comments, he had some (and by some i mean few) good suggestions. I stayed up until 4 am in the morning retooling my anxiety paper, and i think it came out ten times better than the original.

Of course with 3 hours of sleep I dragged around the whole day. But i had my portfolio semi done and was hoping he wouldn't bring up the fact that i hadn't presented yet.

When i got to class, some girl who obviously was nervous about talking in front of the class, was asking how many people still had to present. When i sat down she shot me a look:

"You didn't go yet did you?"

"No i thought we were just turning in portfolio's"

"No portfolios aren't due till next week"

Motherfucker. At this point i'm thinking what the hell am i going to say when he walks in expecting me to present on an author. The nervous girl was trying to tell me i could quickly run to the computer lab, find some author, run back to the room and then present. But she didn't know about my three hours of sleep, and i shrugged my shoulders saying "i'll just tell him i'm not doing it"

She just looked at me as if she just learned the Easter Bunny wasn't real.

"what do you mean, you're not going to do it"

"I'll just say i don't have anything to present"

Of course in my mind i was thinking "HOLY MOTHER OF...", and silently hoping he wouldn't be totally pissed. When he walked in i assumed avoiding eye contact would help out. But it didn't, when i looked up he was staring at me, he reminisced about the semester(I feel like i was taking a different class from everyone else. I did not have as much fun as everyone was making it out to be). Then he started talking about presentations.

"So i think we have 3 more people going, and then we can end class early" The three people scheduled to go, did not include me. He called the names of the last few people who had to present, and then took a seat right next to me as the three kids did there presentations.

I looked around the room as people kept giving me the "i don't think she went" stare. I was holding my breath hoping that no one would say anything. When the last person went, Mr. McDouchebag got up from his seat, went to the front of the class and called it wrapped.

????

There was no talk of me going. There was no general "piss-ness"(new word for the GRE) on his face, and he seemed actually pretty happy. And i was happy cause i had dodge an awkward moment.

He had to leave as we did evaluations, and when he did the few students left suddenly turned on me.

"You got an easy pass" the girl who didn't want to give a speech said "he was sitting right next to you, and he didn't say a word."

" I don't know what to say, i just got really lucky"

"That's not right Everyone else had to go" The Writer said as i walked out of the room.

I have no idea what to think about this. The man does not like me, or at least not my work. The whole semester i've been getting my papers back, marked up with x's and whole paragraphs crossed out. After the meeting i had with him about the short story he's totally been sort of rude to me.

And yet. He gave me a pass. He didn't say one word. I don't know how to take this. It was either incredibly nice of him or shitty.

Either way. I didn't have to make a speech (it wasn't a graded assignment so it won't count against me). It's kind of hard to hate him now. Bastard.

Classes are officially done. I have one take home exam and two finals. YEAH!!!! But time for a nap, i deserve it.

Here's to you GRE

OMG.

I basically spent $140.00 for a test to tell me i'm an idiot. Really? Did i have to spend that much money. Was it that necessary.

I wouldn't say my mood is completely depressed, sad, or stressed. I kind of a knew after i blanked on the word obviate ( :to anticipate and make unnecessary) that i was in deep shit.

From the annoying little clock located in the upper right hand corner, to the moments of complete daydreaming( i swear i spaced for a solid 5 minutes. My dream involved Javier Bardeem and bob haircut) i knew this was going to reflect poorly on my score. And poorly did it reflect.

My three days of studying and watching America's Next Top Model marathons did not help. Though i could have written a whole essay on the injustices of Heather being kicked off the new season.

I'm going to retake in January which will give me ample to study. Particularly the first or second week before school starts, so i'll be all refreshed from Christmas break. Plus it will give me time to study words like "jejune" and graphs and charts.

I should have sent my scores to Harvard just to give someone a giggle.

My number one school thankfully does not require any GRE scores so now i just have to work on a kickass story and hope that will be enough to get me in.

Gre- 1. Beckett- O, But fighting.

Graduate Exam

I'm taking the GRE on Wednesday. And i have this terrible fear that it may kick my ass.

I've been going over the math section for the past two days.

And there is a reason why i could never be a mathematician.

Clearly.

Floater

My mom called me a floater yesterday on the phone.

I called her back after the whole "she went on a date thing" so she wouldn't feel bad about going out with a dude that she likes. Though she still weirded me out.

I sometimes feel my life is stunted because moving on would mean that my role as the "child everyone can rely on" would diminish. Much to my pleasure. The pressure of being that kid is horrible.

My brother once said that i wasn't suppose to lead an interesting life just the right life. At 18 this phrase was even stupid to my ears. Everyone in my family thinks because i read books and go to school that my life is going to be just average. Despite all the actions which prove otherwise (my restlessness, spontaneity, humor, and drive) there is still this look that i get like "you don't have a boyfriend, you don't go to parties, and you have a book in your hand...boring".

I hate this because a part of me doesn't do half the things i want because I know it would involve me drifting further and further away from my family...especially my mom. Our relationships is weird. Good weird. We get along like closest friends, but i know that we are dependent on one another, and this dependency is holding us in place.

It's like we are holding this rope that binds us yet we are heading in different directions now. Not bad directions, but just somewhere will distance will change our relationship.The further we walk in opposite ways, the further and further we get from the dependency we have relied on.

This isn't a bad thing because the rope we hold will always represent our love, but our relationship will inevitably change. And i guess this is a little frightening. At this time we have come to the point where the rope is so tight as we stand on either ends. I want to let go because i see how close the life I want is, but I'm still a little hesitant because i am a little comfortable just standing there with her at the opposite end.

This was how i felt, until last night when she called me a floater. We were talking about Marie's potential new boyfriend (he deserves a whole post) . Every time i talk about relationships (which isn't much these days) my mom manages to subtly say"why don't you have one". It isn't phrased like that of course it usually goes "whenever you get one"

For the most part I've been letting the comments slide, but they are becoming a little much. It's like hey i know i don't have a boyfriend need i be reminded of it. Anyway, Marie's potential new boyfriend is as sissy just like the last one, and my mom kind asked me why Marie has no problems getting a boyfriend but i don't

Mom: it's just aggression, you don't have it.

Me: I'm not an aggressive person, i don't like to push myself onto people.

Mom: Yeah but you don't just want to float. That's what you are a "floater", you don't make any waves.

Ouch!

I don't know why this hurt my feelings so much, probably because i feel like i do make waves, or a least ripples. I understand that my life isn't the pinnacle of social activities but does that mean that i am useless floater of a person. Does that mean that I'm just average?

I'm not a floater. Maybe a glider, and observer. But i make waves, my own very small waves but waves nonetheless, it just sucks that that's how my mom sees me.

I don't know about this.

My mom went on a date.

"A sort of date" she called it.

"A sort of hanging out between two friends" she continued

"We had martini's" she chuckled

"It was a good time." She said more to herself than to me.

For some reason this unsettles me. I don't know why. She could even tell it bothered me on the phone, i became unresponsive and detached adding some "really" and "wow's" in so she wouldn't think that i hung up on her.

It's weird. I've never had to share my mom's attention with anyone else. I feel like a jealous cat. "She's mine" i want to yell to the guy with a weird name. With my back arched in a defensive stance so he knows i mean business.

"she's mine" i want to growl "there's no place for you here."

Someone's getting restless.

I've got the itch again. Dammit.

I was doing absolutely fine until i got to work on Monday and felt the happenings of restlessness coming on.

If college has taught me anything (which at this point is: Easy Mac is suitable for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Dressing up for class is stupid. If at first you don't succeed...take a nap...and then start all over), it is that i am a very restless person. I like doing several things at one time, i get bored with repetitive activity, and i hate feelin unproductive.

My mom says i have so much energy i should donate it to some people. Trust me I'm not a hyperactive person, my personality is calm and collected with a ounce of fun, wit and sarcasm, but when I'm not doing something (be it singing to music, typing at the key board, cleaning my room, walking) i just feel lazy.

My whole problem with grad is that I'm kind of sick of sitting in classrooms all day. I get up, go to class, try not to fall asleep, and then end of doing so anyway. I've been frustrated mostly by Mr. Douchebag because his teaching style doesn't allow us to be productive. We've sat the whole semester, read each other's paper, and I've at least tried not to cry from boredom ( at the last minute he thought it would be fun to make us do presentations, probably because he is sick of hearing his own voice. Of course I'm not doing it, for many reason. Nerves 15%, unpreparedness 35%, GRE exam next week, writing portfolio due, papers, studying 50%)

As a child i was always filled for a need of exploration and learning, and unfortunately that has not subsided. Ever so often i get this almost unquenchable need to go off and do something. My mind gets set on going to a place i have physically never been too. My legs get fidgety with a need to run and jump, but mainly heart fills with a yearning that consumes everything that i am. I want to see things, i want to experience things, i want to escape from the confinement of my life and just go offwith a camera in one hand a book in the other, and comfy shoes on my feet.

My boss (who i have to go in more detail about later) once said that in your 20's there is window of opportunity that makes you feel you can do anything. She wanted to be a painter she was 22, but the older she got, the smaller the window of opportunity (called nerves) became, and she was too frightened to do anything by the time she was in her 30's.

I don't worry about the window closing for me. I get freaked about my aspirations and the future like any one else, but there will always be this need (like i have now) to go off and do something. I'm so sick of just waiting idly, I'm ready to go off and explore. It's impulsive I know but behind my cool exterior has always been this ounce of impulsiveness that i try not to act on...but sometimes i wonder where it would take me. The adventure could be pretty interesting.

Enough of that. I still have an 8 page paper due. I finished my Jane Austen paper, and i must say it kicks ass. I was pretty surprised by that.

In other totally unrelated news. 3 weeks ago i lost a book. It's called A Map of the World, and other than it being wickedly awesome i have to write a paper on it in two weeks (for a final). So upon losing the book, i was frantic because i hadn't finished the ending( and i had a test on the book) and kind pissed because i hate losing things.

After 3 weeks i figured the book was long gone and that there was nothing i could do about it. I would go buy the book or get it from the library. On Monday i didn't go to Mr. Douchebags class because i had to watch a movie for my film class. Today when i walked in kind of late to Mr. Douchebags class my book was on a desk in the corner. I couldn't grab it because Mr. Douchebag set his laptop next to it. For the whole class period i was like "is that my book, what the hell is my book doing there, who the hell had my book, maybe that isn't my book, but then what are the odds that someone else is reading this book".

After class i waited until everyone left and snuck back in the room to get the book. I figured if it wasn't mine...i would keep it. I'm horrible i know. But upon inspection all my writing, drawing, and green undelined markings where in the book.

But the weird thing was on the inside of the cover someone wrote "U R Kool". Someone is book stealer. Who takes a book, and then returns it to the scene of the crime with the phrase "U R Kool" written with a pink highligher.

HMMMMM....INTERESTING.

Crunch Time

I'm so tired. I have an 5 page paper and 8 page paper due Thursday. So far i have 2 pages (okay lets me honest 1 1/2 pages) done on the 5 page paper, and the title for my eight page paper. I'm on roll....yeah....right...

Thanksgiving was awkward. The night i came home my brother decided to bring his new girlfriend over (when my mom wasn't home) and let's say i heard some things no sister should ever hear. EVER.

I told my mom the next day, who promised she wouldn't say anything until after Thanksgiving (for my sake) so she spent the whole weekend giving him the evil glare and i spent the whole week avoiding his eyes. GROSS.

The actually Turkey day went well. My mom made a lot of food, i over ate, and my brother wasn't a complete ass.

I called Marie so we could hang out on Friday, and so the label of "World's Worst Friend" would be taken away from me. I actually had a good time. Though she did talk about school, her friends, this new dude who she swears she doesn't like yadda yadda yadda. I listened, nodded my head, and i think inserted some sentences. We bought shoes, played Guitar Hero (we suck at it) and saw August Rush (her pick not mine). Though Jonathan Rhys Meyers is incredibly hot, the movie was a little sappy. It was sweeter than candy. A bunch of senior citizens and teenage girls ,who whistled every time he came on screen, were there. Marie and I sat for 90 minutes rolling our eyes and tapping out feet (the music was pretty good)

Came back to school on Sunday, slept, ate, slept, ate, slept ate. When my mom got back home she told my brother that by March he has to move, she used her serious voice and everything. I usually would say she was bullshitting but she seemed pretty serious. I guess having sex in house was crossing the line.

I of course felt a little bad. I hate feeling like a tattletale but i had no other choice. I had to cover my ears with two pillows just to drown the noise out, and i am still traumatized. Yuck.

Overall a pretty good time home. But i am back at school and it's crunch time.

2 more weeks of classes. 3 recommendations for Grad school in the bag. Not so worried anymore about frivolous things. A couple of exams thrown my way. And a new pair of Ugs to warm my feet. I'm prepared for the next two weeks and feeling pretty good about it.

Tired Eyes

Getting to Friday is becoming very hard these days.

I spend the whole week running around trying to accomplish this, finish that, meet with professor, take test, go to class, eat...and maybe get some sleep. By Friday my eyes are so heavy from tiredness that i crash wherever a cozy spot is.

Today i had no other choice but to find a corner in the library to rest my head. For 15 minutes i laid down, trying to catch my breath as everything continues to rush at me all at once.

My head is just buzzing with a million and one things, and even though i talk about it in on this blog and with my therapist, i am not any closer to sorting it all out.

It's all about my indecision at this point.

Indecision is the name of my game and it is kicking my ass physically, mentally, and emotionally.

I won't go into it. I don't want to bombard my own jounral with anymore headache inducing thoughts about post college life. I'm beginninng to feel like the narrator of some Reality Bites inspired Blog, despite not being apart of Generation X or having a really cool love interest played by Ethan Hawke.

I will admit however that i am extrodinarily tired and fearful. I'm tired from all the stuff i have to do to graduate in August ( yep. August. Not May.). I'm tired of feeling like no matter what i do i will always be two steps behind and struggling to catch up. And i'm fearful that after all that is said and done the whole busting my ass to graduate will be for nothing because i still won't have any clue what i want to do with myself.

Fact Checker

Last night while i was laying around in my very awesome socks (mailed to me by my mother who was concerned about my cold feet. Yes, i have extremely cold feet. I don't know what to do with them. They are small. And get cold easily. Damn)



Any who. While i was laying down i heard a knock on my door. I'm not really a fan of people knocking on my door. Cause you figure if they are knocking it's because it's an unexpected visit, and in a dorm, at least for me, unexpected visits are not always good.



The last unexpected visit was when two very craptatsic RA's chastised my room. Since then my room is still very "messy" and i don't answer doors anymore. But because the people in this dorm are very persistent, they will slide notes under your door if they can't reach you. I have about 10 pieces of paper that has piled up in corner. Events, Guest Speakers, Yadda.



Last night however i got a note under the door saying that i have not purchased a meal plan for the dorm... which is mandatory to live here. In the spirit of promoting a communal space this dorm requires you to eat in a dinning hall for dinner. Four times out of the week you have to subject---i mean sit among peers and faculty members and have dinner.



This sounds wonderful, if i was totally in to that crap. But I'm not, and i definitely didn't want to fork over any money for food I'm not going to eat. Unfortunately i have no choice in the matter unless i want to be kicked out of the dorm with my cold feet and cute socks.



I had to fork over 140.00 dollars (they pro-rated the normal cost because it is so late in the semester) today and now i have to figure out a way to abide by the rules without sitting uncomfortably in a dining hall scratching my eyes out.



I figure i can just run up to the dinning hall when dinner starts. Slide my card, and then leave. Or grab something small like dessert or a cookie. Munch on it in a corner and then leave. I know this most logical thing to do is eat dinner there (since i am paying for it) and be done with it...but i just don't want to to do that. AT ALL.



F*cking fact checkers who manage to find out that i had not paid the meal plan fee at the beginning of the year. I thought my magical ability to go unnoticed would work, but no...not this time.



I'm going to do a dry run today at 5. See if i can slip by unnoticed. I haven't done the slip in a very long time, i'm a little rusty at it.

Anyway

I think i have royally pissed off Mr. Douchebag. Although our meeting a couple of weeks ago was very successful and pleasant my opinions about him have not changed. He's still boring, his class still sucks, and if i had to make the decision over again i would rather hold him to high fabricated esteem than realize how much of a stinker he is.

I guess after our meeting he thought i would warm up to him more, like the rest of the kids in class. The kids who have shown interest in Creative Writing approach him all the time after class, ask him for recommendations, and talk to him like he's an old friend. Despite that one meeting, i have not done what the other kids have done. I still ignore him, i still pay marginal attention in class, and he will be that last person i would ever ask for a recommendation. I treat him like i did before the meeting because in my mind nothing has changed.


However he now gives me this very cute but weird look during class. Almost a pout, snarl, frown mixed with annoyance and disappointment. I at first thought "maybe it's all in my mind", I have a tendency of doing that. But today when we got into our groups to discuss the interview pieces we turned in 2 weeks ago ( I interviewed my Dad about my half-brother. One day I'll explain the story in full detail), i'm starting to think "I may have made him mad"



I wont even get to the fact that The Writer and The Other Dude in My Group didn't even talk about my piece. They just went back and forth talking about how great each others pieces were while i sat scratching my face. If they each didn't mention girls in their previous essay, i would have expected a full on make out session, thats how bad they were going at it.



They threw (handed back) my paper even though we had 15 whole minutes to discuss it (Mr. Douchebag mentioned we could leave as soon as our groups were done, so they totally skipped mine to head out early). When i turned around Mr. Douchebag was standing over my shoulder, and i asked him if we were going to do group work on Friday since we didn't get to my piece



Instead of an answering Douchebag ignored me and started talking to The Writer about possibly publishing a piece in a student run literary journal (because publication looks good when are applying to grad school.)



I just stared at him like "did you just snub me..." and after getting no response the answer was clear.



Maybe i did something wrong. Maybe i should have sent a Thank You email, for helping me out. I don't know. Now i feel kind of mad, pissed,confused all while lacking 140.00 dollars.