Brooklyn Bound

Lenny has no idea what to do with me.



When he isn't giving me an exasperated look because I don't know anything about Mac computers, he seems disinterested in me being there. It's sort of a bummer because I was so excited about this internship in the beginning.



After calling out sick on Wednesday I dragged myself to the internship with the intention of making this thing work. Everyone keeps telling me that I have a cool gig. I mean besides the not getting paid to be there thing. For the most part I get to do semi-productive work in a cool loft in Soho where my boss who resembles Lenny Kravitz listens to music from the 80's. The other interns don't particularly suck and on my lunch break I get to watch the neighborhood teens play Butts Up (I swear it's a game) on the court right around the corner. In all honesty it could be a lot worse.



For some reason though Lenny and I have not clicked they way I thought that we would. He seems awkward around me while I try to make him feel at ease with my stupid musings. But not even that is working and sometimes i feel like he would rather I be anywhere else then near him where I ask questions about why the Mac doesn't have a 'My computer folder' or a visible toolbar.



Today I spent more time outside of the office then actually in it. I am hoping that this does not represent his need to not see my face. But nevertheless traveling around the city makes the day go by a lot faster. The city is infectious and on days when the sun is out and the wind is blowing you feel like you never want to leave. You forget that you can't afford the place, that the real contentious people living there are assholes and distant, and that for the most part the city has screwed you over in one way or another. You forget all of that because the accents are cool, the one guy or girl who is nice becomes your friend for life, and the city is just too damn beautiful to let all that other shit get in the way. Of course I forgot my camera and couldn't take any pictures of the places I went today or of the people I met.


It's late and I wish I could describe it all but I am exhausted. To sum my day up in a nutshell

-I flirted with an old guy (like grandfather old) who wanted to take me to Atlantic City where we would play black jack and see a show. His name was Jack and he was convinced I was his lady luck. He was nice, and it was a once in a lifetime encounter, so I didn't mind the attention.

-I hailed a cab for the first time ever. This of course was after I contemplated going back to the office and asking if I could just get the number for a cab to pick me up. I soon realized that was not a possibility and started waving my arm at any yellow cab that came my way.

-I avoided any and all roofs, but I spent a lot of time on the subway. I went uptown and then downtown and then back again. I was in the fashion district and saw a lot of well dressed people my age smoking cigarettes while wearing garbs inspired by who knows.

-I made several trips to a camera repair store where I fell in love with a guy wearing an argyle sweater. I of course was sent there to buy a $500 dollar piece of equipment but it didn't stop me from getting all nervous and weird around him.

-I received a phone call from the old guy Jack (did I mention I may or may not have given him my phone number. It's a really long story but come on, who thought he would call!). He wanted to know if I was serious about Atlantic City. I told him I wasn't sure. I'm not that much of a lady luck.

-I then was sent to Brooklyn. I took the C train to West 4th, where I transferred to the F downtown to Brooklyn. It's a whole different place. I thought people were kidding but...no. Brooklyn is different. Lenny was shocked that I had never been there. He keep waiting for me to say "just kidding I go there all the time". He thinks Brooklyn is better then Manhattan, because it's "authentic man". Whatever the case, at 6 o'clock at night when you have no idea where you are going or why there is nothing cool or authentic about Brooklyn. I was nervous because I kept trying to remember if the double homicide mentioned on the news the night before had occurred in Brooklyn, Queens, the Bronx, or Manhattan. Before I left Lenny was trying to find me the fastest route back to Grand Central, he knew that the G would possibly take me there but suddenly he grew serious at the thought. "Don't take the G" is all he said, "I'm serious".

I'm one of those people who needs a reason why not to do something. If there is a red button in a room and you tell me not to touch it, I will want to touch it because I don't know what the said button will do. So telling me not to ride the "G" will make me want to ride the "G". So I asked him why I shouldn't take that train and he answered with what can only be described as pure terror "because it'll take you to Queens". No offense to anyone who lives there.

It was a long trip, and I was wedged in between a guy doing a crossword puzzle and a lady reading a book. When I got to my stop neither of them were to thrilled in having to suspend both activities to let me get through. I get overwhelmed quickly and as soon as I stepped outside I was convinced that the double homicides had occurred in Brooklyn (it didn't). I got lost trying to find Matt the intern, so i could give him whatever supplies he needed. I called him on the cell and he found me standing a good block or two from the building.

I didn't get home until 8, and then I went to get dinner with Angie. I was not good company though because I kept yawning while trying to keep my eyes open. It was a busy day but very fun. Tomorrow I have to buy my mom her birthday presents ( I wish I wasn't so broke) and then I have to work from 5-closing.

Sunday is the big day. I hear it is suppose to rain and snow. A weatherman said it is going to be a 'A wintry mess". Just the way I like it. Time for bed I don't know how I've hung on this long.

Strange Condition.

I am sickly. Or tired. Or maybe just a fine balance of both. Who knows.


Yesterday I had to work from 9-5. This schedule bothers me because it's the generic working man reference to having to be at a place for a duration of time to make money. I mean there's a Dolly Parton movie with this reference as a title. 9-5 scares me, I want a career where these two numbers have no meaning to me outside of 'I'm glad i don't have to work a 9-5 shift. Ever'.

When I got to work I wasn't feeling well. My head hurt, my body was warmer then usual and my throat felt weird. I love that at 22 I am aware of my body. I know when I am getting sick based on symptoms that only I know. Needless to say by 11 I didn't feel well at all, I didn't want to leave early so I toughed it out until 5 o'clock.

I am not use to frigid cold. I am not use to the how violent the wind is combined with temperatures in the low teens. I don't think my body is accustomed to it, and due to my long encounters with the cold weather I think my body is shutting down. It's asking for me to take a break or at least stay inside for a while. Luckily i have a day off, and I do not plan to even step outside to get the mail.

If I don't feel well by tomorrow, I am going to call Lenny and say that I can't come in. I am in no shape to be hanging out on roofs or running errands around the city all day. I couldn't bare it. I am considering looking into a different internship. Yes I was hella excited that I got this one, but I feel like I shouldn't be there.Outside of Camera-Gate 2009, I'm not really learning anything. I am spending almost 40 dollars a week to surf the Internet and make calls to frustrated Fed-ex people in New Jersey. Learning something would totally be an adequate compensation, but for most of the day (when I am not fucking things up) Lenny is trying to come up with things for me to do.

I feel like wasted space there. I mean I know internships are not luxurious, I wouldn't have signed up for one if it was. I am low on the totem pole which I don't mind. I like having to prove myself. It's exciting. But because I don't have any production experience, I don't even think I am on the pole. I think I standing outside of it, 2 miles down the road. All the other interns have specific things to do, while I am always the one asking 'so whats next'. This makes me nervous because i believe the answer is 'well...nothing, but hang around and something may pop up'. Regardless, I am going to stick it in until April 1st (or until they let me go because of Camera-Gate) but for tomorrow I physically cannot go. Traveling alone is a hassle, I couldn't imagine having to exert any more energy.

Anyway, enough about my sick body.

My birthday is this Sunday, if you can believe it.I actually forgot about it. No lie. I mean I didn't forget that I have a birthday, but February went by so fast I didn't realize this Sunday would be my special. I have no idea what I am going to do. My aunt is taking me out for dinner and buying me a book. My mom is depositing money in my account so I can buy clothes or spend the day visiting a museum. Hunter, the guy at work, is bringing me candy so I can indulge freely in my sweet tooth. Angie and Abagail want to take me out for lunch and to a movie. It sounds like it may be a busy day.

Who can believe that I am turning 23. Just a couple of days ago I was going over the my older songs on Itunes and reflecting back on my teenage years, where 23 looked a lot different then it does now. According to my music library, I was much cooler than I thought, besides the being a dork thing. I had Pete Yorn, The Strokes, Billy Idol, Mazzy Star, Billy Talent, Saves the Day, Danzig, Tori Amos, Joan Osborne, Tonic, and Nirvana in my collection. That's a pretty good mix for someone not out of high school yet. I think.

I'm not sad to be growing older, but I do miss (on some level) being younger. I do miss going to school and coming home to my mom and dinner. I miss wanting responsibilities but knowing that at 17 I didn't have any. I miss my room. I was into Spain when I was 17, and because of this I was convinced I had some Spanish blood in me. My room was decked out in an old world Spanish decor and I bought several cd's to accompany the mood. I miss driving and wanting to escape. I miss hating high school. I miss that stuff. Cause that's the one thing I can't grab back. That's the one thing that remains constant and yet so far removed from my life today.

I'll be 23 this Sunday, and I am not sure I am ready for it. I don't know what it has in store for me.

~Becks

Oh, and who knew that an album with Robert Plant and Alisson Krauss would not suck as bad as I thought. 'Polly Come Home' is by far my favorite song on the album. The album and song is not for everyone. But I like it,there is something raw and beautiful about it. It gives me chills.

Qouting Shakes Does Not Get You Far.

A couple of days ago I was shelving some books in the humor aisle and along came a person I would rather not see or talk to. While I was deciding where the book "Grandama's Dead" should go, I heard the familiar and very grating voice call my name.

The Janitor (the saga continues) wanted to tell me about some program he had created for a friend of his. He sent this program to her through email and he thought that I (because I am a 'writer' and all) would find it interesting.

He explained to me that he had compiled a handful of love quotes which opens periodically on your computer. Or something like that. Angie said it sounded like he just made a PowerPoint presentation of quotes. I don't know who to believe.

I told him that could be kind of interesting and then I started to walk away. As I was walking away he wanted to recite one of the quotes for me. Said quote happened to be by William Shakespeare and in my only form of excitement I said "so, is it a sonnet?"

In a moment that still perplexes me, The Janitor looked at me as if he had no idea what a sonnet was. I mean I'm not an expert on sonnets but I know the William Shakespeare was pretty famous for writing some. And if you are going to recite a love quote by Shakespeare to a girl who likes literature then maybe knowing that there are such things as sonnets could help. Just a little.

'No it's just a quote".

And.So.It.Goes.

I let him recite the sonnet, and I said 'that's pretty cool' once he was done breaking Shakespeare professors heart all around me. After he was done reciting the sonnet he looked at me as if he deserved a pat on the back. I wanted to ask him to apologize to Shakespeare immediately for butchering the sonnet and for not realizing that it was one.

I mean maybe the love passage he was quoting wasn't a sonnet, maybe it was. But to not even know baffles me. To memorize the quote, recite it to a complete stranger, and then expect some form of 'that was really beautiful" is ridiculous. Especially when you don't know what a sonnet is. Though he claims to be an expert.

Boys are troubling. Very troubling.

In So Much Trouble.

I had a bad day. I know I had a bad day because at the end of said terrible day I played 'So much trouble' on my Ipod about a million times (or at least until my ears cried tears).

Remember the whole roof incident. Well despite being locked on the roof for four hours, crying on the phone to a boy named Adam, and almost freezing to death...Lenny sent my back up to the roof today for round two.

The roof and I have a clear understanding. We do not like each other. When I go on the roof bad things happen. It's just fact.

Though I was not locked on the roof today, I may or may not have moved the still camera, which we are not suppose to move! And by move I mean I may have totally shifted the camera from it's originally position because I am clumsy and was so freaked out by last weeks incident that my hand slipped and touched the camera.

Holy shit. It's the one thing we are not suppose to do. Don't touch the camera! It's rule number 1, 2 and 3. And I fucking touched it. I was mortified once I realized what had happened, i quickly pushed it back to where I thought it was and cursed myself silly for the next 5 minutes.

I didn't tell anyone what happened, simply because I decided (quickly) to take the chicken way out of it. I could hear the French Directors voice in my head "don't touch the fucking camera" and then I could see myself trying to explain that I had. I touched it. Moved it. Shifted it.

Shit.

I spent the rest of the day avoiding eye contact and smiling tentatively when someone looked my way or called my name. I don't know if this place is for me. I mean outside of my big mistake today...I don't know why i am there. Sometimes I spend an hour staring at a screen not because i have to but because I want to look like I am doing something.

And now with this whole incident brewing on my conscious, I am fearful of what will happen. I am frightened that I have messed up a two year project and that the blame for camera-gate 2009 will not be place on the person who sent inexperienced me up there. I am frightened that I will lose this internship even though I don't particularly like it. I am frightened that French Director will give me a profanity laced scolding when he notices that the pictures do not align. I am frightened because I feel like I am screwed...maybe not today but one day in the near future.

My head hurts. I bought cheesecake today so I can eat an unhealthy amount of food and drown my fears away. Oh, and the Matt Pond PA song is still on heavy rotation:

I don't think i want to think about it

how the fall is coming down

the light is leaving and it's hard to breathe

buried in a pile of leaves

we don't want to ever change

we don't want to make mistakes

i hand the finger to my fate

he doesn't know me and he cannot see that far

nights get so long and cold, fewer places we can go,

you're in so much trouble, can't hide in your covers.

In The Cut

Grad school stuff is due in less then two months. Argh. I don't feel as unprepared as I was last year, but still my stress level is pretty high. I am going to submit a chapter or two from my 'loneliness' story which should be an adequate assessment of my writing.

I like the concept of the story so far. But that's what I say about all of my stories in the beginning. Before I get caught up in trying to complicate it with dare i say...action. Sometimes the use of action and intent puzzles me about narratives. I wonder if there needs to be an absurd amount of overt exciting event after exciting event to make a story...work.

I am a fan of nuances, subtlety (if you can believe it) and characters. Sometimes simplicity is much more honest than action. Just like in the movies. Sometimes I would rather watch a movie about a character and how they interact with whatever situation they are in. Not specifically a intense situation but subtle ones that effect their every day life (growing up, unexpected death, family issues, and loneliness). I mean don't get me wrong I am looking forward to Transformer 2 and the new Terminator movie too, but sometimes movies about people (In the Bedroom, Imaginary Heroes, and That Night) compel me the most.

Between my job, internship, and burgeoning social life, finding the time to get all these grad school requirements completed is hard. I have two days off this week (yesterday and today) but once 12 o'clock rolls around my day goes by so fast I can barely even call it a day off. Angie wants to hang out later on today, but for the first time in a long time I am not feeling up to it. Not because I don't have a lot of fun with her, but I sort of want to stay in bed.

I have reasons for this. Ever since I started this writing career thing, I notice that I am required to do a lot of reading. Not even really required, but my writing school as of this moment consists of reading a lot of material from contemporary and older writers. To get a sense of how stories work, I sort of use previous narratives as my guide. I concentrate on what works for me as a reader to understand writing. I don't know if that makes any sense.

Whatever the case, I am reading a lot. I use to read a couple of stories a week when I was younger. This number has decreased drastically since high school and I am now once again finding my passion for reading. I think they (writing and reading) have to go hand in hand. In order for me to write I have to be able to read critically. Or something like that.

I am running low on money, which has put a halt to buying a book every week. Yesterday I went to the library with a list in my hand and picked up some books I have wanted to read for some time. The trip was semi successful. I forgot to look for Under the Volcano and Nausea (two books I always start reading but never finish). In the end I picked up The Crying Lot of 49, some Joan Didion books, and a book called Goodbye Lemon. The selection is pretty good, and I don't want to leave my small space and enter the real world today. I would rather take some time with the individual text along with dabbling in my own scattered work.

I just finished In the Cut by Susanna Moore. At work, employees are now getting their own endcaps for a month. If you walk into a bookstore endcaps are the displays located at the end of a shelf. The books cascade down from said shelf based on a theme. These themes are mostly promotional, so said endcap and said books on endcap can be found in any bookstore (affiliated with this company).

However, last month the managers suggested that we have encaps dedicated just to the employees. Only three employee endcaps (along with the required endcaps) would go up a month, but we would be able to put up books that we like. For some reason we are all excited about this. We do not get to be individuals in this store. We can't talk about politics, money, religion, or personal preferences out loud (though that does not stop us from trying). So being able to have our own endcap for a month with books that will no doubt give customers some insight into who we are as people...is pretty damn exciting.

I remembered seeing In The Cut, a few years ago late at night. It's an erotic thriller starring Mark Ruffalo and Meg Ryan. I don't know if I liked it because I knew it was something I shouldn't be watching or if because I really like the story line. Whatever the case, my endcap is going up in two days and I wanted to put this book on it. Of course, I hadn't really read the book but I figured it could be a potential candidate as long as I finished the book before my endcap went up.

I was instantly turned off from the book after a couple of pages. It made (makes) me uncomfortable. The sex is graphic, the characters are raw and uninhibited. As a reader I felt like a voyeur, watching a very violent act occur but being powerless to do anything but gasp and walk away. I was tempted to return the book after the first 30 pages. I searched all over for the receipt and when I found it I placed in the book as a bookmark so I would know where it was when it came time to return it.

For two days the book sat there, on the floor, where I stared at it with interest and disgust. And after my horrible Friday I had convinced myself that the book had given me bad luck. But I was compelled to read it, even outside of being repulsed by it. Outside of how unabashed Frannie and Jimmy (the teacher and the cop) are the story is beautifully written. It has voice, purpose and dare I say intent. A part of what turned me off about the book, was that it turned me on (in a non sexual way). Most of us are repressed individuals who act out of fear rather then pleasure. But the two characters are not repressed individuals. Jimmy is pretty much a masochist (very masculine except for his 'girly hands) and Frannie is...willing (delicate yet experienced). Murders are occurring around her, she may be a target, he may be the murderer (though he is the detective on the case) and throughout their intense relationship both of them are aware of this, and yet both of them continue to act out this awareness through sex.

Brilliant.

I want someone to talk to about books. Not only about this book but every book. I like Angie because she likes talking about books and analyzing them with me. But I don't think she gets into the analyzing thing as much as I do. I can literally go for an hour discussing one specific book in an attempt to understand it. When we hung out the day before I just wanted to talk about this book and nothing else. I kept talking to her about it as if she had read it (which she hadn't) and I was disappointed that I couldn't give my analysis to her appropriately because she didn't know what i was talking about.

Anyway.

I just finished In the Cut today, and I was very sad to put it away and add it to my collection of books that I have read. I don't know if i'll put it on my endcap but I enjoyed the read.

Next on my list is Run River by Joan Didion. Should be interesting. I really need to focus on my story and am hoping I can do both (read and write) at the same time without complicating my role as the audience and as the writer. We'll see.

"I'd Like To Get Down Now"

So. Yeah. About the whole roof thing.

I go to my internship every Wednesday and Friday. For the most part I am surfing the Internet and sometimes doing some post production related stuff. I am the only girl in the office who has no idea what she is doing, and Lenny has been patient about this. I do a lot of the research stuff, administrative task, and sometimes manual labor. But I'm cool with it.

On Wednesday i met the other two interns working there. One has been there since this summer. He has already been inducted into the 'cool people club' and they trust him with tasks outside of the office. The other intern, Mat (with one 't') started the same time I did, and he has some proving to do himself.

The director is documenting a building that is being constructed from the ground up. It is literally right next door, and it gives him complete access to the building. He has set up three cameras located in the city to take a picture of the buildings construction every 3 minutes. He and Lenny have been doing this for 2 years, and the effect is pretty awesome. Once you paste all the images together, you literally can see a building being built in a matter of minutes. One of the intern responsibilities is to check that the cameras are working in order for the project to be a success.

So, while the other two interns were there, Lenny thought it was a good time for us to learn how to check the cameras, just in case we ever had to do it. The three cameras are located on rooftops in the vicinity of the massive 20 plus story building of his interest. Lenny sent us to learn about the camera with his IT friend Adam who does freelance work there a couple of days out of the week. At first I did not like Adam, he was standoffish and aloof. But New Yorkers are apparently always standoffish at first, especially when strange new girls are hired to do grunt work in a cool office.

However, on Wednesday Adam was really cool. He is very smart, easy to talk to, and down to earth (though he has that neurotic new york thing where he talks really fast about everything!). I smell a potential crush in the works. The four of us made our way across the street, up 12 floors and a flight of stairs until we reached the roof. The camera was locked in a box located on the edge of the roof. Adam gave us a tutorial of what we would have to do, should we ever need to come up there. I was paying attention but the box was too high for me to see in, so I didn't really know what he was talking about. And he sort of has that IT approach to everything, calling things 'simple' and 'easy to do' because he as done it a million times.

I figured I wouldn't be assigned this task because of the small situation with being unable to see inside the box. Needless to say I was very shocked on Friday after I completed my usual tasks when Lenny told me that I had to go back to that building (alone because I am the only intern who works on Friday) and check the camera. You should have seen my face. I was mortified and scared and I let Lenny know that I wasn't able to see in the box which made learning things about the task very difficult. He told me it was really 'simple' and wouldn't take that long. All i would have to do is check the camera, and grab the hard drive. "that's it, you can't mess this up". He handed me a crate I could take with me, so I could stand on it and get access to the contents in the box.

It was very windy Friday, and this did not make the situation any easier. I carried my crate and book bag across the street and made my trip up the elevator and stairs by myself. It did not occur to me that the door to the roof would lock after me. I was hesitant to even open the door because there was a "will alarm once activated" sticker was on it. I was going to call Lenny and tell him that the door was locked and I had no way to get on the roof. Instead I braced myself for a horrible alarm noise and just opened the door. There was a moment of relief when the door opened and no alarm sounded. The winds were so terrible on the roof the door slammed shut even before I had a chance to wonder if it would lock behind me.

I opened the box and finally had a visual of what I was working with. Of course this visual was like rocket science, because I had no idea of what anything was. The wind was causing me to shake on the crate and though I was far from falling off the roof, the thought that a gust of wind could send me over caused paralyzing fear. I sat everything down, grabbed my cell phone and decided to give Lenny a call and tell him that I had no idea what I was doing. I walked to the door, pulled once and thought maybe I forgot to turn the knob. After four more tugs and turns I realized that I had locked myself on the roof. Without a jacket, with gusts of wind throwing me about and no sight of another exit.

I called Lenny and first explained that I had no idea what anything was (in regards to the contents in the box). That it all looked like hogwash to me. He said he was going to kill Adam because he should have taught us the steps thoroughly on Wednesday.

"It's not Adams fault. I just couldn't see in the box, the day before that's all. Oh....and by the way. I'm kind of locked on the roof. So if you can be all up on that "getting me off the roof thing" It would totally be cool ".

Yes I said "be all up on that". It seemed necessary

I expected Lenny and his cool yellow shoes to come to the rescue. I expected him to drop the phone admittedly and be on his way to open the damn door so I could get off the damn roof. I expected a lot. Instead Lenny said "I can't really leave the office.' The director' isn't here, and someone needs to be here to answer the phone". My heart sank. " I'll come over and soon as he gets back from his meeting but until then..."

"I just have to chill"

"Pretty much"

I didn't think this would be hard. I mean besides the wind I was sort of safe on the roof as long as I didn't get too close to the edge. But when I say the wind was bad, I mean it. I had no gloves, no jacket and I was wearing flats. The clothes that I did have on were very "walk in the park" spring wear. By the 15 minutesmark I was freezing up there. My hands were already losing color, I was shivering like no one else's business, and the wind was smacking me in the face. I tried to keep warm by jumping, talking out loud and snapping pictures. I would occasionally bang on the door to get the people's attention on the 12th floor. I called Marie, just in case, and told her that i was stuck on a roof. I couldn't call my mom. I wouldn't have called her.

Another 40 minutes passed, and by this point I was drowsy and freaking out. Lenny never called me back, I was near tears, and I seriously thought I was going to die. I couldn't think straight, I wanted to lay down, I started to lay down but then I remembered if I went to sleep I wouldn't have any control of waking back up. My body was shutting down. Even the shivering became numb. I started to think that the building was swaying and that I would topple off the edge. I started estimating how far 13 stories really is. I worried about planes flying too low, or me getting too close to the edge and just stumbling over. I started thinking but none of it made sense.

By then i had taken a seat on the floor, I propped my book bag up like a pillow and put my head down. But quickly i nixed that idea and got up. Instead of laying down, I literally got up from where i was sitting and decided to beat the hell out of the door. By beating the hell out of, I mean I took my numb fist and started going at the door like it owed me money. I saw some industrial items laying around (a pipe, some bricks, and paint supplies) and decided that if beating the door wasn't going to work I would break the window. Yes, the window probably cost more then my whole life but it would get me inside and I wouldn't freeze on top of a roof.

Besides Lenny and Marie no one else knew I was up there. The next bout of construction guys wouldn't be back until Monday and by then....I'm just saying. That frightening thought ran through my mind the whole time I was up there. I am all alone up here, and if I had left my cell I would have been in worse trouble than I was in then. No one would take notice that I was gone until it was too late, and I had already succumb to something. So I grabbed the pipe and used that instead to wail on the door. My shivering was uncontrollable and I couldn't get proper aim, so I had to swing my whole body and hit which exhausted much of my energy.

I was minutes away from swinging at the window when it finally opened. On the other side was a construction worker who gave me the "what the hell are you doing up here look". I couldn't explain because talking was rough. I crashed unto the floor and when i was able to I tried to explain my story in between my shivering voice. He listened, looking from me (cold, shivering, pruned) to the door (beat up) and said these words:

"You know there's a rope to hold it open".

Yeah asshole. I just wanted to be locked on a roof for an hour. Thanks. He finally asked me if I was okay after showing me the rope and how to prop the door open. I said that I was, just freaked out a little, cold and possibly suffering from some stage of hypothermia. I sat for 15 minutes, glued to the floor and trying to breathe. It hurt to breathe as if my air passage had decreased some.

I wish that this would have been the end of my ordeal. Just when I was heading back to the office, Lenny finally called. I told him that I got off the roof to which he replied 'that's cool'. He was not calling to check on my well-being, he still wanted me to check if the camera was working and called to give me Adam's phone number (because Adam was in another location) so he could walk me through the steps.

For the next three hours I was on the phone with Adam who was hella patient as he tried to get me off the roof as fast as possible. His IT training helped a lot, while I was freaking out on the phone with him. I was still freezing, it was still gusty outside, and I was standing on a crate inches away from falling to the ground. Easy tasks were very complicated and I just couldn't concentrate on anything he was saying. In between his "it's okay you can do this" I kept repeating "I'm so cold Adam. I. can't. do.this. Please get me off this roof. I'd like to get down now". He kept repeating that he was sorry in between my rambling and suggested that i just do the best that I could even if that meant putting everything back in the box and heading back to Lenny.

In between our conversation my hands were not cooperating. They were shaking and blue and numb to the point of pain. I was incoherent and all I remember telling him is "I'm going to hang up and call you later".

"Okay." He said with some concern. He just kept repeating Okay while I kept telling him I was going to hang up "I'm. Just. So Cold. Adam". So, I hung up the phone. Went inside and cried. When I regained composure , I called him back and we finally got the damn camera thing to work. I told him I deserved a present or something for being stuck up there too long. "like a nice new phone" he laughed, because he is obsessed with the newest phone technologies. He talked about his new phone for an hour on Wednesday and wanted us to see everything it could do. I mentioned that I hate my new phone and he gave me a list of some I should consider.

"maybe a new phone will work." I said " But I would settle for hot tea or something".

Four hours later, I returned to the building with the stupid Hard drive and seriously suffering from some level of hypothermia. Lenny was talking on the phone with Adam (who was probably voicing his concern for me and the state of the camera) and gave me a "sorry i sent you up there for no reason" look. I dropped the crate on the floor and went to the bathroom. I felt like I was going to throw up because my stomach was cramping up and my head hurt.

I think my crush for Lenny has all but gone away. At the end of the day it's camera equipment and project before your interns well-being. I seriously don't want to go one any more roofs for a while. No lie.

I have been resting ever since. I had to go to work yesterday and I was suppose to go to my dads today but I am just not up for anything but sleep and warmth.

Did I Succumb to Death?

So guess who almost died today. On a roof. 13 stories high. I. Shit. You. Not

I will go into this more after I recover from the slight trauma of today's event. I cannot even begin to explain the horrify hours I spent up there.

Lets just say I almost froze to death on this (yes this) building today after I accidentally locked myself on the roof. In between the crying and kicking of the door, I decided to snap these photos.

I'm usually a fan of Friday the 13th, but this day can suck it. For all days to come. I promise I will explain more but I am freaked out, shivering, tired and am so happy to be in bed. A bed that is located on the floor. How lovely the floor is.

No One Belongs Here More Than You

I had a good quiet day.

I wish I had more days like this one. Where I wake up, do my laundry, make food for myself from scratch, watch recorded TV shows, and write while listening to alt rock. My days have been busy and stressful, and I barely find time to squeeze in any of the things I like.

I am applying to grad school. Slowly that is. I know what is required of me (GRE, Recommendations, Statement of Purpose, yadda yadda) but life just seems to be getting in the way. I am excited to invest in this whole writing thing. Grad school is the right choice for me, I know this for sure. I can be more than just someone who wants to write. I can feel like I can actually do it. That I have a voice and perspective that people may want to hear.

I'm am not always looking forward to heading back to my old school though. I like it here. I like it here a lot, and though I don't doubt I can make something of myself there, there are moments when I want to stay right where I am. Right where I feel like I belong. I wish the situation were different as in, I wish i could afford my own place, I and had another job then my bookstore one..but I still want to stay here. When it comes down to it, I wish that was a possibility.

Applying to another grad school has crossed my mind. I mean hey, there are a crap load of schools with writing programs that are pretty good but there is that fear of rejection which could set me back a couple of more months. I feel like if i just get into this program I could still intern in New York during summer or any of my other long breaks. I could still participate in my world here even if I am far far away. I don't know.

I went to dinner with Abagail tonight who just returned from a four day trip to Canada. She bought me a book bag (it's Canadian y'all) that she thought I would like since I have to travel in the city and all (and I fear getting my big clunky bag mugged). Dinner was nice. It's what people my age do, and in my old school hanging out with friends wasn't even an option. Unless you count Mike and Katherine. I was in such a different place there and I was such a different person. OK, that's a stretch, I was not a different person but i was trapped internally because I never felt like I could express myself. I never felt like I could be the person that I wanted to be.

I have that problem here too. I mean, I am extroverted out with activities and people, but I miss the internal dialogue that kept me grounded and connected. Where the hell is that balance. Where the hell is all my time going. When the hell did i become an adult. A kind of adult with responsibilities and choices. Being an adult sucks, i don't recommend it to anyone.

I have a lot to do in the next 4 months. I have to figure out where I want to be and what i want to be doing. I know I am only 22 but I feel like I should have my shit together. But then I realize that no one has their shit together. I can't name one person that I know who has any idea where their life is going and then I wonder why I try so hard to make sense of any situation when it seems like everyone just ends up going with the flow any way.

I hate facebook and myspace. There is always that one (or two) person you befriended because you spoke to them once in class and felt it necessary to befriend them. There is this one such girl named Sarah who I met during an American History class. We ended up a group once and she was pretty cool. She had a unique fashion sense (which is rare in Small Town USA) and I may have complimented on her that. Anyway she recently graduated and got accepted to F.I.T. Every so often there is that damn update on her life and times in NYC. Through her posted pictures and such her life looks so damn amazing and easy. She decided to come to New York and become a fashion designer. So she did, and now she probably lives in Greenwich with her cool boyfriend with the weird name while she works as fashion consultant/ shopper for some high end clothing store. I mean I don't know if this is the case, but I feel that is so.

I wish I was 'that' girl. Not that 'Miss Sara' has all her shit going on, but in my mind she probably does. She probably isn't worrying about anxiety or depression or where the hell she'll be in a few years. She isn't like me or anyone of my friends who are constantly teetering on the idea of how we have gotten to this place in our lives where indecisiveness is a daily thing.

I think to0 much. I should stop doing that some times. My birthday is in a few weeks. I am turning 23! Geez where has the time gone. I am want to go to the Guggenheim possibly. I haven't been to a museum since I got here, and I wouldn't mind doing something totally nerdy. I plan on bringing my camera and everything for extra nerdy points. I don't know. We'll see. I don't know how much the ticket will be or if anyone has that day off to go with me.

Time to for bed. I have to get up early and get on the express train with a bunch of old men in suits. Not as hot as I thought it would be.

~Becks

I'm Just Not That Into You

Drinking is not fun kids. Seriously.



I planned on having a productive Sunday. It was one of my only 2 days off this week, and besides doing some laundry (which I find relaxing), I planned on filling out my financial aid form, providing more character descriptions for my loneliness story, and getting in some sleep. A lot of sleep.



But after seeing He's Just Not That Into You (Justin Long is adorable), my first real adult drink took me out of commission all day Sunday. I now have a sense of what a hangover feels like and I'm Just Not That Into It.

My head hurt the whole day. The whole "having a Sunday to myself" came crashing down because my aunt's 'baby daddy" (who was suppose to take Michelle for the whole day) bailed out at the last moment. This meant that bright lights weren't the only thing causing my head to pound. Michelle learned the "Potty song" at school and spent a lot of her time singing it at the top of her lungs. I had an aneurysm because of this.



I got through it though. Michelle usually plays in the living room, and the room i am staying in has a perfect view of all her activities. So for most of the day I lay in bed, resting by the door just in case she decided to grab a pair of scissors of something. When my aunt came home I figured this would give me ample time to rest my throbbing head but she wanted to go over design ideas for the new place (though lack of funds prevent any of this). So I went over what we should do for wall colors and slip covers though I ached to much to really give a damn.



By the time that ended my mom called and we watched the Pre-Grammy show and talked about everyone. I think I got to bed around midnight but my head doesn't hurt like hell this morning. Thank God.



Last week was insane. I worked six days straight. From my four day schedule at the bookstore to my 2 day schedule at the internship I am pushing the limits of exhaustion. My internship is going ...OK. I know, 'OK' is such a blah word to describe an internship of a movie nerds dream. But, I am the only girl sort of working in that company (besides another girl named Stephanie but she is pretty much a dude with long hair). Though I like hanging around guys they are tight nit group to join. You have to break in before you are welcomed with opened arms, but the breaking in part is tricky. I obviously don't have a penis, which automatically makes boys nervous and cautious.



Besides the not having a penis thing, I am not as computer savvy as I thought. Unless you count expertise with Microsoft Word and surfing the Internet I don't know anything about computers. Or more importantly I don't know anything about Mac computers or any of the related software. I did not sugar coat my inexperience during the interview. I was open with him about my lack of skills but told him that I was a quick learner (which I have proven to be in the last few weeks). But my inexperience means that i doing more administrative stuff then movie making stuff. I am updating contact information, looking for potential people to interview via the Internet and hanging out by myself all day.



I have my own computer out in the lobby, and sometimes my only interaction are with the delivery people. The loft is huge, and there are several different companies located on our floor. Even with all the people, everyone stays to themselves. They only come out for coffee or lunch. And unless you already have a familiarity with these people you are pretty much by yourself ALL DAY. I did learn two new programs though: After Effects and Mac Grab. I am glad that i will be learning more stuff to fill out my resume but I feel like if i had one (just one) office friend it would make traveling all the way to the city a lot more fun.



Who knows. They haven't canned me yet. It is something I fear every day.



The bookstore job is still going well. I feel like an actress there. It took me a while to break into that group too, but now that I have, it has made work a lot more fun these last 2 months. The whole 'Porter' thing has gotten out of hand. He still talks about me to other people, more importantly to my friend Angie, as if we had something and it just didn't work out. When we went out to eat on Saturday (before the movie) she told me that 'Porter' came up to her at work again and began the conversation with 'so you know the whole Beckett and me thing didn't work out'. There was never a thing to be worked out. I brought a friend on our 'date', I have been ignoring him for the last 3 weeks. What 'thing' is he talking about?



Angie, annoyed with his desperation, pretty much told him that "trying to date someone who you never really got to know is sort of creepy". She went on to say that maybe if he got to know me outside of superficial conversations he would have had some chance. But he never took the time to know about my writing aspirations, or that i hate seafood, or that I don't like movies based on comics i've never read. She told him all of this and said that his problem was he doesn't ask girls questions, it's always about him.



She is seriously like my best friend here. Of course after she went off on him, i ran into him in the break room. As I was leaving he said "so how's that story going?". I laughed, I didn't mean too but I couldn't help myself because I had just learned of the conversation Angie had with him. I said it was "going' and then I let the door close behind me. I'm Just Not That Into You.

The movie seriously had me thinking about relationships. I am 22 and have never had a boyfriend. I have never even seriously pursued one. I am so distant and nervous that I am completely shutting myself off from the opposite sex. But the other day at work I met this guy who changed my whole approach. I want to go into my encounter with him more in another post, because it was seriously intense. As we were talking I thought 'hey this guy likes me and I like him and what's wrong with wanting to be wanted'. What's wrong with wanting to have a dating life, and casually hanging out with guys that I have an interest in. The Key Word being: Interested In.

When this whole 'Porter' thing started to unfold I felt sort of like a snob. There are things that have less importance in a relationship, or at least that's what you tell yourself when you start dating. Though I gravitate to boys with dark hair and striking eyes, personality/ambition/humor and all that jazz can attract me to any guy, as long as he has good intentions and a good heart. I am not physically attracted to 'Porter' in any way, but more importantly I wasn't mentally either.

He's a janitor and not only does he cleans the toilet but he has no ambition to do anything else. When this thought first popped in my mind I was like "shit, i am an academic snob". But that is not the case, I just like someone who has a plan. Who thinks past what they will do today. If that makes me a little snobbish, then I'll take it. It's better than dating someone who I'd have to support in every venture.

So when 'said' guy came into work and started chatting with me about his job as a chef (at a French restaurant) I felt like Liz Lemon from '30 Rock": I wanted to 'go to there', and be with a guy who has ambition. Lots of ambition. I need someone who I can believe in. Who has a dream and who I can possibly help achieve that dream. I wanted to 'go to there with' him, I wanted to learn more about him, but I was pulled away by a customer before I could tell my name or ask him what restaurant he worked at.

The point is I think I want an active dating life. I want to start meeting interesting guys. Guys that I can potentially (and realistically) have a relationship with. I don't want to keep myself at bay and unavailable because..I've been at bay and unavailable for my whole life. And what's wrong with wanting to be wanted?

Anyway, more on that later. I have to work today. Blerg. Tomorrow I have a day off which is much needed. I may actually get something done one of these days.

Non Sober House

Tonight I saw He's Just Not That Into You and then I drank what can only be described as 'fruity vodka".

When did Vodka become fruity? When did I begin drinking Vodka in the first place? Why the hell was I watching that movie?

Whatever the case I have now been schooled on relationship do's and dont's by the cute Mac guy and my body is unnaturally warm from the vodka. My head hurts a little and it feels heavy like I want to sleep but I can't because there is pressure on my frontal lobe.

And instead of climbing into bed like a normal person, I am slung over the mattress (located on the floor) with my feet touching the hardwood floor as my head rests against the frame. Is this what people in their 20's do. If so, it is terribly exhausting (and a little fun).

A real post tomorrow. For sure. I have worked 6 days straight this week and my first real break begins whenever I wake up. I will have a headache for sure but at least I will get to write a real post one of these days.

Time for bed.

Getting on My Nerves 101

Today was an incredibly off day at work. And by off I mean the 7 or so people closing (sans creepy Reuben) were in no mood to be there.

After my post, I spent the next two hours sort of writing my loneliness story (this is what it is saved under) and watching The History Channel. I think I passed out in between 360 Battle and page 2.

Going to sleep late does not mean that I woke up late. As soon as 9 o'clock rick-rolled around I was up and groggy. Did I mention the whole having to go to work thing also. On a Saturday from 5 to close. Closing, simply gives you false sense of security during the day. I mean if you go into work at 5 (like I did) you have a good 7 hours lounging around the house. But the closer it gets to your departure time you realize that you have been robbed of your whole day because it has basically been leading up to this.

I took a nap at 3 only to realize that I had to get ready to leave by 4:30. Needless to say I almost stepped out of the house in my Michigan University t-shirt and jeans. A lot has happened at work since I got my internship. The managers weren't to pleased with my new and exciting announcement. They were worried that I would ask to have my hours cut which would symbolize me moving on from the bookstore. I assured them that my hours would remain the same but that I needed two days off during the week more importantly on Wednesday and Friday. This seemed like a fair compromise and starting next week I will work 4 days at the bookstore and 2 days at the production company leaving one day to myself. Oh, the joys of being in my 20's.

Some of my co-workers have also displayed weird reactions to my internship, particularly some of the older ones. First came excitement ('you can do it'), then came advice ('be professional') but now there seems to be...('you think you're better than us now') tension. I had to close with one said co-worker tonight and though she is usually very friendly she was cold and distant when I tried to talk to her. Because I am a highly sensitive person, I immediately felt her new vibe and I wanted to ask her what was wrong but I couldn't bring myself to do it. So I just sulked for a little until I found a good book to read.

Saturday's bring out the worst people (including the employees). People who don't know the titles of anything. People who insist that you should know, and then when you don't know they want someone else to help them. That's the only thing I get offended by. When someone asks you for a book and you try to locate it the best you can for them only to walk away when you tell them the book is not in the store. The part that annoys me is that 5 minutes later they want to know if someone else can look for it.

Some days I hate the book store. Some days all of my co-workers hate the bookstore and we have no problem saying this in front of the person who is asking for the latest book from Oprah's book club. Brad, a hilarious 5th year sophomore, said that everyone who works at our bookstore is an intellectual misfit. That's the only reason any of us got hired. We know books, we are smart enough to do anything yet...we are still there. Waiting for our real lives to begin.

Some days I am resentful of the bookstore, and this resents makes irritable. Today I was harassed by a customer wanting a travel guide for Tunisia (it's in Africa). She was in her late 50's and came up to customer service as if she was heading on the plane tonight. My manager and I were discussing Kelly Osborne and her recent stint to rehab.

"Where is the travel section" she asked,looking to both of our faces for an answer.

Because the travel section is my favorite, I agreed to take her.

"What country?" I asked her, not because I cared but because I wanted to make sure I took her to the right section.

"I just need the travel section" she said with a slight irritation. Her tone was ugly and impatient. Like wherever she wanted to go would disappear if i didn't show her the damn section. There are two things I don't like (which go hand in hand) people who repeat themselves because they don't want to listen.

"I know, but I need to know the country in order to get you in the right section"

"Oh, Tunisia". I have never heard of that country, but on pure luck I took her to the right area. She was with a friend who first saw the Africa books and they began thumbing through it as I made my exit. Just as I was leaving she said "thanks" but I was too annoyed to reply.

At customer service I was getting ready to talk about the douche bag lady in Travel when guess who popped up at my computer. "So I didn't see the guide I wanted" she began "can you look it up for me here".

I shrugged my shoulders and typed in something. The book she wanted wasn't in stock but that didn't stop her from trying to have a meaningless conversation with me. I don't know why this lady annoyed me. She was invading my personal space with questions that I wasn't too keen on answering. I was annoyed that she kept repeating things as if I were deaf. I was annoyed that she kept coming to me for questions. I was annoyed and could not hide this annoyance from her.

She must have gotten the point. She tried once again to say 'thank you' but I started a conversation with someone else. So she said it over and over again until i relented. From the giggling teens in the sexuality section to parents who let their kids run crazy, we all wanted to close the gates and go home come midnight.

Home. Where you can sleep in a warm bed. I have tomorrow off. I should try to finish another book, but I fear I will spend all day surfing the net for a cheap desk. IKEA is my new best friend.

Still Haven't Learned My Lesson.

Drinking coffee after 8pm is a bad idea...I know this from first hand experience. And yet, put me in a coffee shop after the street lights come on and I will order some ridiculous drink like coffee regular knowing the effect it has on me.

I never learn.

I think it is 2 o'clock in the morning. My stomach hurts, my mind is racing, and I am typing out a new story. It's about loneliness if you can believe it or not. Self imposed loneliness that disconnects us from each other because of our fear to get too close, rely on others, and sometimes ask for help.

I like the concept of it so far, but I say that about every story I write. I am noticing that thread in my life. Loneliness. I am not lonely here, I have friends. I am finally doing the things any 22 year old (with a good head on her shoulder) should be doing...yet the idea of loneliness always lingers in my mind.

That topic was the main article in a popular magazine some time ago. How in New York (and other major cities with a lot of people) you can literally feel lonely surrounded by faces. You would think with all the sources of activity you wouldn't get trapped up in this isolation that you cannot break free from. But from the subways, to the sidewalks there is a loneliness in this city that creeps up on you from nowhere.

Sometimes I get it. And when I do it pains me more then I would like to admit. The loneliness makes me feel like I'm spiraling out of control. Not because I am behaving any differently than I have in the past. But because I feel like life has taken hold of me and I am too scared to embrace it. I want to isolate myself in some safe nice space, where I can catch my breath and breathe. Even if that means escaping into a lonely bubble where I am the only inhabitant.

This could be the coffee talking and/or the stomach ache. This could be the disconnected, antsy, neurotic me talking. I don't know, but it still doesn't change the fact that's it's 2 in the morning and I can't sleep. I hate coffee, remind me never to drink it again.

Day Sleeper Part 2

I didn't think I would really spend all day sleeping, until literally 3pm when I realized that I hadn't done anything but that. I am tired but there is too much to do in the upcoming months to let sleepy eyes get the best of me.

So yes I started my internship at a production company last Friday. I didn't think I would get the position seeing that "1 semester as a directors assistant" was all I had on my resume. Regardless, last Tuesday 'Lenny' called and tried to offer me the internship via the phone. Of course I was screaming too loud with excitement for him to get much of anything out, but in between my yells of glee he said I could come in on Friday at 10am.

When I went in for the interview the office was dead. I mean besides 'Lenny' and I there were a couple of people but not to many to get a feel of the place. 'Lenny' was dressed like a model and there I was with my 20 dollar shoes and 18 dollar pants. Kind of intimidating. I was nervous of course come Friday because 1) this is my first real internship 2) i didn't have a clue what I would be doing there and 3) I had no idea what i would wear outside of my gap pants and cardigans.

After losing the few items I bought from H&M, I had no choice but to pull something together and quick. And by something, I literally wore some skinny jeans, a blouse and my heels. I didn't look ultra professional but I did pull off business casual? I think. Anyway, I live almost 60 minutes outside of my job. That seems long but really it's a short trip. If it weren't for the long metro north ride into grand central station I would be able to get there a lot quicker. Just to make sure i arrived on time I left my aunts house at around 8 to catch the 8:16 train. This train ride was much different then the ones I am use to. The more professional business people ride the 8:16 train and for 30 minutes I was on the stuffiest ride into the city that I have ever been on. The guy next to me was wearing a really expensive suit but he slept the whole way and I couldn't help but stare at his put together attire. I looked completely out of place with my big green bag, puma shoes and jacket.

By the time i arrived in Soho, I was a half an hour early. If you are ever in New York you must try a butter-roll. I wish there was a science to it, but literally it is just a roll with a slab of butter on it. Combine that with a coffee regular and there you have the cheapest most delicious breakfast in the whole entire world. Ignore the fact that it will clog your arteries and give you indigestion...it's tasty. After my small breakfast I went upstairs and waited for 'Lenny' in the lobby. I sort of imagined that once i arrived what I thought I saw last Tuesday (an amazing office) would turn out to be a small space with white walls. Like maybe I was being interviewed in that pseudo space to give me a good impression but once I got the internship that walls would fall apart to reveal a small hole in the wall where I would spend 3-6 months in.

But it was the same, except now there were a bunch of people running around and drinking coffee. I wasn't really introduced to anyone and no one really made an attempt to introduce themselves. When 'Lenny' greeted me, he ushered me into his office and immediately put me to work. The company is working on two documentaries and to fill me in I had to read notebooks worth of research. I spent nearly 3 hours thumbing through books and and interesting essays. By the time 1 o'clock rolled around 'Lenny' came up to me and asked if I wanted to take a break.

I don't know much about the area, so I went to a vendor across the street to grab lunch. I don't eat pork but I scarfed down a hot dog like I hadn't eaten in days. After lunch I went back to the office and was assigned the task of transcribing video. It's sort of like writing a script. I had to watch hours worth of clips and transcribe word for word what each person said. It's not as easy as it sounds. I did that for what seemed like forever and I didn't get to leave until 6pm.

Of course, I didn't go straight home after my really busy day. I promised Abagail that I would hang out with her and I didn't want to cancel plans. Despite being very tired I spent two hours with her, eating dinner and talking about 'Lenny'. I don't like walking around the city with my big green bag because it isn't convenient especially when it has my phone, wallet, and camera in it. I told Abagail about this and she said she was heading to Canada in a couple of weeks and would buy me a book bag there. I forgot how great it felt to have friends. So in a couple of weeks I will have a cool Canadian book bag which she calls a 'you got an internship' gift.

I like the internship, I suppose, or at least I will like it. I'm worried about fitting in and making office buddies. It's always difficult being the 'new girl' and I don't know how long it will take for people to warm up to me. For a while I will feel concentrate a lot on the work aspect. I want to prove myself a tad bit before I get comfortable. I have to busy myself in some way and if that means being the best transcriber they've seen in a while...then so be it. There are some interns running around but they haven't stopped to say hi yet and I am hesitant to do so myself. Regardless I am happy to have an internship, even if it isn't in publishing.

Today I emailed my professors about my desire to get my MFA. It took me forever to write 'hey, i need to learn again....please recommend me so I can learn something!" but i think I did so in a way that wasn't totally embarrassing. Marie sent me her GRE book which is full of practice tests and math crap. I guess it's the best way to approach the GRE seeing how bad I bombed it last year.

I am excited to begin this process of heading back to school. I feel like I am not learning what i want to learn in the real world. I had an interesting conversation with Angie's boyfriend. Let me explain. Angie is also a writer (even though she doesn't want to make a career out of it) she met this guy on some website and they have been 'seeing' each other for a while. He lives in Finland though so it's not so much seeing as it is writing back and forth. They have met in real life a couple of times and she says she really loves him. He is the guy she wants to spend the rest of her life with despite the distance.

The power of technology allows them to talk via a live video feed. I mean when I was at her house she had her computer set up and all of a sudden his face popped on screen and it was like talking to a real person. It was trippy. He's a linguistic major, so technique and structure is his game. He wanted to know my take on forms of writing and I was embarrassed because I didn't really know anything. He talked about meters and sonnets while me and Angie sort of looked puzzled and confused not because we didn't know what they are but because we don't use those forms while writing.

But a point he made sometime later was that sometimes it's good to know the craft from form, style and syntax in order to have the freedom to break those forms with a purpose. I just know that I can become a stronger writer with some guidance and I hope beyond hope my Alma Mater will take me back and ignore all the crappy stuff I said about the school while I was there.

We'll see in a couple of months.

Time for bed. I can do another 8 hours of sleep before work tomorrow...I'm just saying.

Oh and I found a new Sufjan Stevens picture to drool over. Why can't i run into him on the subway.

I Fellowed Sleep

I will write a real post tomorrow.

Having an internship and working will make sleeping almost in possible...but it's worth it. I have so much to write though. About my cool internship at a production company that has made award winning documentraties.

I want to write about Lenny Kravitz and how he dresses like someone out of a GQ magazine. I want to write about my responsibilities as an intern which include administrative tasks (answering phones) and production tasks (transcribing video).

I want to write about the weird email (via facebook) I got from a guy I knew in middle school who has grown into a gorgeous lawyer in training. But I will have to do that all tomorrow because i have a day off then and I don't plan on doing anything but sitting at home and writing. It sounds like a good plan for the day.

Oh and lately I have become obsessed with Dylan Thomas. He's pretty much the shit these days:

I fellowed sleep who kissed me in the brain,
Let fall the tear of time; the sleeper's eye,
Shifting to light, turned on me like a moon.
So, planning-heeled, I flew along my man
And dropped on dreaming and the upward sky.

I fled the earth and, naked, climbed the weather,
Reaching a second ground far from the stars;
And there we wept I and a ghostly other,
My mothers-eyed, upon the tops of trees;
I fled that ground as lightly as a feather.

'My fathers' globe knocks on its nave and sings.
''This that we tread was, too, your father's land.'
'But this we tread bears the angelic gangs
Sweet are their fathered faces in their wings.
''These are but dreaming men. Breathe, and they fade.

'Faded my elbow ghost, the mothers-eyed,
As, blowing on the angels, I was lost
On that cloud coast to each grave-grabbing shade;
I blew the dreaming fellows to their bed
Where still they sleep unknowing of their ghost.

Then all the matter of the living air
Raised up a voice, and, climbing on the words,
I spelt my vision with a hand and hair,
How light the sleeping on this soily star,
How deep the waking in the worlded clouds.

There grows the hours' ladder to the sun,
Each rung a love or losing to the last,
The inches monkeyed by the blood of man.
And old, mad man still climbing in his ghost,
My fathers' ghost is climbing in the rain.

2nd Impressions

Tomorrow is my first day at the internship. I wouldn't even call it my first day because i figure it will be more of an orientation. But still I am finally doing something outside of being a bookstore girl.

Now that I have the internship I am a bundle of nerves. I don't know how to explain it. After getting the phone call from the guy (he called me right after Obama's speech) all I could think of was 'maybe he mistook me for someone else'. Maybe he called the wrong person and offered me the position by accident.

For that last two days I have been checking my email expecting him to say 'sorry, I rescind the internship. I hope there are no hard feelings'. But of course that email never came and now tomorrow morning I set out to see what I will be doing for the next few months.

It's exciting and scary. Word got around quick at work (due to my general excitement) about my internship and needless to say everyone has been giving me advice while patting me on the back with a "you get em' kid" grin.

After seeing my new boss (who will be referred to as...yes Lenny Kravitz) rocking some awesome yellow shoes and jeans I figured I needed to update my wardrobe a little by little to fit in with all the other cool people who work there. Because I hate shopping, I spent an hour in H&M, only to come out with a scarf and headband. But they were a cool scarf and headband that i planned to pair with some skinny jeans and a blouse.

The scarf and headband totalled $14 and I brought them to work with me because I only had an hour to spare before my shift started. By the end of the night said scarf and headband were magically gone! I thought I put the small H&M bag in my locker but as I inspected the empty space I could only assume that a) I misplaced it somewhere or b) someone took it. And lets be honest I wouldn't put it past some of my co-workers.

My only two items to impress Lenny Kravitz are now lying on the floor in the break room or in the hands of one of my co-workers. Crap. I will have to go in wearing my regular business casual wear tomorrow. And I am also out of 14 dollars.

Regardless, I am excited and happy though still a tad bit nervous. I don't know why i do this to myself. Why do I worry so much after I have fought so hard.

Inauguration....

Obama became president.

My cupcakes turned out really good.

I hung out with Angie.

I texted Marie in between breaks.

Oh...and I got an internship! I forgot to mention that little thing!

A change is a coming.

Yes Sir. It is

Red, White and... Robin Eggs Blue?

Tomorrow me and Angie have a day off. Tomorrow is also the inguration of Barack Obama, and not to pull out any cards or anything...but we are going to celebrate like it is 1999. We planned to just go to lunch tomorrow, but then we realized that we both wanted to see the inauguration and would have to postpone lunch until after he became president. So it made perfect sense to just watch the inauguration together and then get lunch after it was over. Of course this spiraled into watching the inauguration with snacks as if we are going to watch the Superbowl or something. But whatever I'm up for it.

I've been in the mood for cupcakes lately so I agreed to make patriotic ones. Needless to say I'm not too experience with red and blue dye.. the red is more like a rosey pink, while the blue is...not so blue. Maybe sky blue. or light blue. But bold and the proud blue it is not. Whatever they taste good, and that is all that matters.

As Monday comes to a close and I have yet to hear from hot Lenny Kravitz look-a-like, I can only assume I did not get this internship. Bummer. I knew this was pretty much a long shot, but I was hoping in that small glimmer of hope I have left, that I would get the position.

I have to start repaying loans soon and though I have not expressed any concerns about it...I am completely freaked out about having some set amount of money to pay back every month. This is a whole new thing to me. I don't own or rent anything (car, apartment, credit cards) and the cell phone I use is in my moms name. But for the next couple of months, until I go back school that is, I will have this looming thing waiting for me every first of the month. It's sort of terrifying. I wonder if my measly pay check will even cover half of the monthly payment. I wonder if they will take in account that the economy sucks and times are rough...for everyone.

Regardless, come February I have to contact the big loan people and talk money.I hate talking money, I would rather have someone else deal with all that stuff while I daydream my life away. Come feburary I may still be without a writing job, internship, or any of that stuff I moved here for in the first place. Jeez.

But enough of that. I have to prepare for my interview on Wednesday. I don't know anything about acquisitions and rights (in regard to publishing) so I am searching and investigating so that I am prepared for my meeting with this lady.

I can't seem to express my love of books and aspirations clear enough for anyone. That outside of my attempt to write them, I know and appreciate good literature. Hell, i don't know what I want to do in ten years but I have a pretty good idea it will involve writing, editing , or reading book...isn't that good enough for anyone these days.

I'm cranky, hungry, and slightly sad. I have some more cupcakes to frost before bed, even though my body is telling me to wait until tomorrow morning to do that crap.

Just One of the Guys.

Yesterday I saw my dad (and uncle) for the first time in years.

My dad called me a couple of weeks ago and was upset that I hadn't made an attempt to see him since I arrived in New York. He has a point. I am so use to my mom being my main parent that I sometimes forget that it is important for him to be in my life, especially since his health has been bad these last years.

After my grandma died his health started to deteriorate. Despite being in his 50's my grandma always watched over him. My dad has fifty years of being a wild, rebellious man beginning with him running away from home at 12 and his numerous indulgences with drugs, alcohol and women. She was sort of the person who kept him from falling apart and diving over some edge. When she died he lost the one thing that was constant to him. He lost the one person who could put him in his place and love him regardless of his short coming.

My dad is a man of a million stories,which is probably why I have gravitated to this field.

When I was little I use to be glued to them. He would hear a song or see a movie and then instantly be pulled into a memory he felt we all needed to hear. He is gregarious, so storytelling was never this intimate thing. He gets all excited and acts the memory out as best as he can. He would relay them in such a matter of fact way ('so my fist goes in his face, or chin, I can't remember') that you ignored the illegal aspects of them. You just watched him with some amazement and amusement because 20 minutes later you are still listening and still wanting to know more.

I am conflicted by how much I love my dad even though I don't understand the decisions he has made with his life. He's intelligent, beautiful, adventurous, strong willed and yet completely self destructive. He literally could have been anything from a writer to master salesman and yet....

I still admire him though. Anytime I talk to him or see him I become 6 again. I am captivated by everything that he does, I am tied to his words and mannerism like a love sick girl. Like he could do know wrong even though he has time and time again.

So impulsively I made a decision to see him. I called my uncle (his brother) and asked him to drive me to his house so I could hang out for a while. My uncle is a Grinch, he has been ever since I was born. As the youngest of six kids, he is mischievous and funny. We have had this back and forth banter thing since I was a little kid and for some reason it has transition well into my 20's. It's all in good fun because we simply like to argue, agree to disagree, and then argue again.

He said he would pick me up on several conditions. 1) 'you better be out there when he showed up' 2) 'I am not staying long' 3) 'Do not touch my radio' 4) 'I will smoke in the car' and 5) 'no back talking'. I broke rules 3 and 5 pretty quickly and he reminded me of this as he blew smoke in my direction. Oh, how I love my uncle. We had a pretty good conversation in between our bickering. He is no longer the aggressive ham that he use to be. For someone who always got in trouble he has calmed down a bit. I will not go to far and say there is a maturity to him now...but he has learned some lesson about life that has altered him.

He dropped me off at my dad's house and then threatened that he was not going to drive me back home. After a few punches to the arm he said I had a half and hour because he was leaving with or without me. He walked me inside and there was my dad....now grayed and a little heavier than I remember. Everything else about him was the same, the scar he has over his eye from a fight, the smell of smoke on his clothes, and that husky laugh of excitement and sadness.

There are never any awkward moments between us. I am his only girl and when I was younger I always felt like I couldn't compete for his respect because he was a macho dude and I was a little girl with pigtails. His interactions with me were always different from his interactions with my brother or half-brother. He expected more out of them, he talked to them using more expletives and told more detailed accounts of his wild and crazy days. I was the girl, nurtured and protected when all I really wanted to be was accepted.

Anyway, we spent our time together rushing stories. I told him about my time here, he told me about what my half-brother is doing now (you know, because he was in jail for five years. I'll get to that another time). I asked about his health which he evaded for the most part...and he asked me if I was happy. I wanted to say sometimes, because the truth is a little more complicated, but I didn't want him to worry so I said of course. And then after he made me practice some boxing moves "should any kid get in your fucking way" he said he had a present for me. Underneath his bed there was this huge duffel bag that contained some photos I have never seen before.

We are dreamers and for this reason memories from our past are a comfort. My mom and him have gotten into countless argument over these pictures because some of them are hers. Old age has calmed him too and he said he wanted me to mail some of them to her "you know as truce and all". The pictures are way too old for me to remember but they are stunning in what they capture. I have some of my dad and my uncle when they were really young. He is in a bar yelling at someone outside of frame. His smile is crocked but bright and you can tell there is an exciting trouble in the air.

I have one of my mom, looking demur and innocent on a stone structure overlooking a park. She is wearing her favourite outfit which consisted of corduroy pants, a white sweater and these bold red boots. Her hands are clasped together over her legs as if she didn't know where to place them and her eyes are cast down for the same reason I suppose. On the back of the picture is a note that she wrote him professing her love. Scandalous. We spent the rest of our time together putting names to some of the people in the photos and trying our hand at remembering the past.

Our time ended before he could get to the other album. And I was disappointed when I heard my uncle calling my name and threatening to leave me.

I made a promise that I would come back and I would have cried when he closed the car door if my uncle weren't sitting next to me giving me that stank eye. After leaving his house, my uncle said he was hungry and that we were going to grab some pizza before he took me home. I was okay with this, because part of it was my idea. We stopped at this amazing pizza place that i use to go to as a child. He paid, because I wasn't going to, and we talked about life. He said i would learn everything I needed to learn here and those lessons wouldn't make me a better or worse person...they would just shape my perspective and approach to things. I told he was cool, despite being a douche sometimes, he was cool none the less. He said he didn't care about being cool, but he smiled anyway.

After swindling another slice of pizza out of him he said that spending some time with me wasn't that bad. I wasn't too much of a pain in the ass ('though you still have a big mouth') and he would bring me to my dad's house more often if i wanted "you know, it's up to you of course". I think yesterday was the best day that I've had here. I was like one of the guys for once in my life. It was an easy, breezy day where I felt like me for once.

I didn't know i missed them so much until I was with them. Sometimes I feel a source of anger towards my family situation. As I have often said, my moms choice to marry my dad made my grandma very angry. She was not a fan of his wildness and inability to be tamed. He went against so many things and yet my mom liked him enough to marry him and have my brother and I. We have been the blunt of many remarks due to their union. Anytime my brother gets in trouble or I open my big fat mouth to protest something it always because of the Hughes blood running through me. But as look at the rest of my family, as I evaluate their own problems...i realize that my mom and dad were trying to create stability out of the chaos they were both born into. And though the didn't succeed they tried and loved hard and burned out quickly in the attempt to do so.

They become more magical in my eyes every day because of the sacrifices they each made so my brother and I could be more than just ordinary. They are so far from perfect it's almost beautiful. I wonder if I get my story telling stuff from him. I imagine it has rubbed off in some way or another. He has captivated me enough that I have tried to emulate him in some weird attempt to connect. Whatever it is, yesterday was awesome and it made me want to fight for something here just a little while longer. I can't throw in the towel yet.

In other news, I haven't heard anything about the internship with the production company. This could either mean hot interview guy will email me on Monday or...I didn't get it. I still have my interview on Wednesday to prepare for. If i can remember that a literary agency is not a publishing house, I may do just fine come wednesday.

Tip Toeing hurts my feet.

It was freezing cold today and I had to make my way to work at 8 in the morning just to arrive there by nine. By the time I woke up there was already snow on the ground. I like snow, except the whole traveling in the snow, icy roads, and the cold wind that smacks you in the face as if you owe it money. But the actual snow is pretty cool.

Anytime I see myself on the schedule from 9-5 I cringe because I know what that means. For the whole day I will be trapped in the kids department because secretly the managers are hoping that i will like it enough to be placed there permanently should the people in that department call out sick or have a day off.

With my old guy leaving ( i could cry) that leaves only two people trained to work in the kids department. Trust me there is no science working in kids, the layout is almost the same...it's dealing with parents that's a pain in the ass. I have this theory that as soon as you have kids the stuff that didn't concern you before means the world to you now. Sometimes all you hear in the children's section are parents talking about issues they know nothing about but feel should be important to them for the sake of their children. "How can I raise Timmy in a world where sharks are being killed for there fins", "There is too much sex on TV did you see [insert any show] lately", yadda yadda bull crap. Even if these concerns are legit there is certain level of superiority with these parents that is suffocating.

Needless to say I hate working in the kids department. The department itself is located a few aisles away in a desolate corner decorated like a fairy tale land. It's pretty, but it so far removed from everything else in the store that you can't help but get a little lonely in there. When I am in there I ask some of my co-workers to visit or, to the frustration of one manager, i deliberately leave kids to do other things. She, the manager in question, usually escorts me back into the department with a "now you know you have to stay in here" speech. Whatever.

It's mind numbing in there, and of course there was nothing to do. When I wasn't straightening books that weren't crocked, I was trying to look busy. This included cutting pieces of paper, twirling my pen, and playing with the toy trucks someone stashed in the drawer. Sometimes I can get away with reading a book in there but that all depends on who the manager on duty is that day. For the most part a 9-5 in kids consist of me figuring out what to do for 8 hours.

Towards the end of my shift "Porter" made an appearance. I go back and forth between confronting him ( "so how's your dead girlfriend?") and hiding from him. It doesn't make it any easier that his friends (some of my co-workers) haven't utter a word to me since the incident. It is like we talk about each other to other people but when we encounter each other we don't know what to say...so we pretend to be cordial. He wants to say something to me, I know it and there is a part of me that is afraid of what he wants to tell me. Today he kept coming in to the kids (while I was pretending to work) for stupid reasons.

It was evident that he was coming in there for reasons other than "do you need me to take something back to customer service" or "have you seen [insert employees name who i haven't seen all day because I am trapped in kids!]". I can't even look at him anymore without seeing all his expectations about me fade away. I told Angie that among the things I don't like about him, it really irked me when he gave me that amethyst. Though it was a nice gift and sort of my birthstone (though i prefer aquamarine), I'm not really into rocks. Something he would have known if he paid attention to anything outside of his own wants. I talk about writing all the time, and if you have a crush on me and want to make an impression giving me a pen or even a notepad will impress me more. Because a real crush would know how quickly I go through both of those items.

He makes me nervous only because now he is trying to figure me out. I spent the rest of the day tip toeing around hoping to fade in the background. Apart of me doesn't understand what he sees in me and apart of me doesn't care to know. But in a non threatening way I feel hunted by him and I want to put a halt to his pursuits before I have to pull out the "bitch card". But in all honesty I don't even know how to use that card because I have been apart of the passive aggressive club for a while.

Things will die down I am sure. He will get tired of me ignoring him and move on to someone else. In the meantime I will just have to get use to sneaking around the store and hiding behind displays.

I might find out my internship tomorrow. I have been nervous about the whole thing since Tuesday. Of course the moment my interview 'high' lessened I began to second guess the whole thing. Maybe I shouldn't have talked about my love of story telling so much, maybe I shouldn't have been so honest about my inexperience, maybe i shouldn't have been thinking "i want to touch your hair" while he was talking. Did I sound to eager, did I sound to bored. I shouldn't have smiled so much maybe he thinks I 'm a big flirt, maybe he thinks I want to work for them because I have a script I want to propose.

I want this internship more than the others because I have an invested interest in this one and i know if I don't get it I will be crushed. There is no doubt about it. I will just be crushed.

I don't want to think about that stuff. Not tonight anyway. I have a movie to watch, a book to read, and a new sims expansion pack to play (apartment life!). Oh the life of simulated game where everything is easy and nice and I get to live next to Sufjan Stevens.