Friday, October 28, 2011

Thursday, October 27, 2011

day of friends.

Rainy rainy day. Day off work. Got to spend the entire day visiting different friends, chatting about everything. Most people hate the rain, but I love it. Love the cold, gray drizzle and sloshing of puddles.

song lyric of the day: "I'm ready to suffer, I'm ready to hope."

Short post today, not much on my mind.

Wednesday, October 26, 2011

there's-a-lesson-in-there-somewhere

Sometimes the customer who comes in ten minutes before the store closes, messes up your displays and talks LOUDLY with her friends will be the one who chit-chats with you at the register and treats you like an actual human being, then apologizes for coming in late as she doesn't like being the "reason" the mall isn't closed yet.

Funny.

Tuesday, October 25, 2011

twinge

Saw Paranormal Activity 3. Now sitting on the couch with every light in the apartment on (not the bathroom, so not "every")-- what was that? Nothing. You imagined it. It's dead silent. Dead. Deadly. Ummmmmm, OK, anyway.

Wrestling. There's something I want that I can definitely, in no way have. But I waaaaant it. And it's hard. It hurts me, a little bit. A little twinge. The sadness spills over. So sad. I need to make a change.

Want to move to the city. For real. Well. I've been saying that for a year. Longer.

Maybe this is different. Because I really do need a REAL, tangible change. Sick of this daily grind. Need a change of scenery. Need to get off Long Island. Need to get away from myself. (Ah, but there is no running from oneself, not really!) Maybe just get some distance between this thing I want but can definitely not have. Forget about the thing. Distract myself with something shiny.

I don't want to be here anymore. Don't want to work retail through the holiday season. A vision of me sitting, crumpled, on the sales floor, folding pajamas at 2a.m. and sobbing, is a little to clear in my head. But it's what I know. Which is why I've stayed so long. (Maybe. Who knows "why" anything, really. Our minds are a bunch of swirling questions, at least mine is.)

Tired of driving all over Long Island, although I really do love driving - it relaxes me.

I can't get through another winter here. I want to be in the city. I want a new start. I'm only 22. I deserve it. Right?

Monday, October 24, 2011

a thought

Writing articles is infinitely easier when you got all your questions answered already.

Sunday, October 23, 2011

chilled air.

Maybe it's the weather. This cold feels firmer, like it's here to stay. As we soldier on towards winter, the leaves are flying off (fewer brilliant reds this year, I'm seeing mostly muted orange and yellows). The cold feels thick. I see my breath. Maybe that's why this most recent dark mood. A lot of people are having bad days. A lot of people seem to be in "funks" or "spells", whatever name we give that hard-to-describe "off" feeling.

Sure, fall and winter have the cute clothes. The mittens and animal hats, the boots and new colorful (or classic) coats. But the cold, cold air? Static cling, dry skin, sun that glares off the icy snow and hurts our eyes. Sigh. Winter's on its way.

The last week has been interesting.

It's interesting how very fast time flies. And I'm only 22.

Boys come and go, literally walk in and out of life. Career tracks hiccup and entirely falter. Friends lose touch. Family is a relative term. Economy and government, those big, soulless words that are always on peoples' TV sets and minds, but never quite tangible in daily life (at least not mine, I suppose I am lucky).

And the seasons change, and Father Time marches on.

Thursday, October 20, 2011

today

Today was an interesting day that I can't quite put into words, and am not sure I want to put into a public forum.

The last few days were tiring, and I learned something - how lucky I am. Lucky, because I have friends of all ages whom I can turn to when my family is absent, physically or emotionally. And when you're falling apart, you need family. So, I'm lucky I have a sister-from-another-mister who got what I was saying, and listened to me sob, and got mad with me, and said all the right things.

I am so lucky. So blessed.

Thursday, October 13, 2011

done.

That was a whole lot of work for just two stories. And though they're done and e-mailed to the editor, all it takes is an e-mail back or a phone call to have me scramming again. Wait, what, those photos were shit? You want a quote from who? Confirm that source's title?

Well, the photo demand may happen. But all in all, I know my stories were good. I had good sources, I had good quotes, I think I strung it together to make sense. That's hot.

It was fun. Could I make it my living? Still unknown. But it sure is satisfying to watch the words string together on the page, and to like the story you're telling.

Wednesday, October 12, 2011

being nosy

Being a journalist can be fun. The phone calls, the questions, scribbling everything down with a pen, later decoding your chicken-scratch into legible notes-n-quotes. Thinking while your source is talking, what to ask next, oh shit, that was a good quote, what did they say?!?!

And it can be fun to be nosy.

Sometimes.

Tuesday, October 11, 2011

cells

Weird, the stuff your brain remembers. Forgotten for ages, and then the wind blows, a fragment of dust loosens, a brain cell bumps into another cell and a memory pops in.

Last night I was watching Whose Line Is It Anyway? Just for five minutes before flipping it off and going to bed. But I remembered an entire limmerick they sang in a different episode. I don't even know the last time I watched that show -- years. But somewhere, my brain retained it.

And the other day, I was thinking about the silverware at my house. No, really.

It's not my house anymore. I left that house in a whirlwind flurry-of-fury. And I sometimes realize I can't go back. Not that I want to. I don't. But it's a light tug beneath your skin to realize - that old box of school shit? I can't throw it away. That bowl with the cartoon mouse? It's there. The spoons I've eaten soup and ice cream off of for ten years are there.

(I forget that my dog is not. I always imagine that he is, though.)

Oh, whatever. Tragedy. You can buy new spoons. Silverware is unimportant. It took me four months to even remember its existence. Just one of those small things.

Like when you move to a new place, you remember the big things. The bathroom is different, the route you take to work, the neighborhood. But you don't remember that tree you always eyed on your drive home. You forget the house with the drawing in the window. You forget the rhythmic, predictable cycle of thoughts you always had on your familiar route.

Until a cell bumps agaisnt another cell. And then you remember something small.

Monday, October 10, 2011

yawn.

I lied. It's the next night. A very long, long day at work. Busy busy. messy messy. Third night closing in a row.

I went to do some extra-mile-reporting this morning, only I am so afraid to walk up to a stranger and introduce myself and ask some goddamn questions. Why? Why this anxiety? Why?

And if it's because maybe I don't really want to be a reporter, then, please -- so what. I need to do something. Why can't I just do.it.?

I said this to my supervisor and she didn't understand. Can't imagine me being shy, she said. Can't understand why it'd be hard for me, it should be easy.

I don't know, I shrugged, face down, because I DON'T know. I don't know why I can't. I have ideas. Overwhelming self-consciousness, shyness leftover from childhood, social anxiety, fear of being judged, of sounding stupid, of looking dumb OH-THE-HORROR. Who cares? It doesn't matter. People aren't thinking about you, judging you, and if they are, it really doesn't matter what they think.

I know all this. And it's still hard.

Sunday, October 9, 2011

whoops.

Whoops. Forgot for a few days. But that's because I've been busy being a freelance reporter. How exciting. Phone calls and quesitons and note-takin' and typin'. And photo-takin' 'n' deadlines 'n' stuff.

Off to my menial job now. Will write somethin' tonight.

Wednesday, October 5, 2011

boys.

Yesterday: Day off. What did I do? No, really..........OH! Lunch with a friend, library for a few hours, picked up winter clothes from Mom, went to Board of Ed. meeting.

Today: Drove friend to work at 12. Went to work at 2 to closing. So boring. Whoop-ee.

I cover board of education meetings every other work as a freelancer. I've done three.

It's funny the difference two weeks can make. It's a perfect amount of time, really, to tell if you like someone, or you've settled into your home, or if you're happy at work, what friendships have changed, what's new, what's disapepared.

(Wrote this on receipt paper at work. I do that a lot.)

My Life by BOE meetings --

1st one, 9/6 --
He had come over to Mom's apartment. We went for a walk. Some chit-chat, a few kisses. Oddly, a few tears, which he oh-so-gently swept from my face. So sweet. We walk back and he comes inside, just for a minute. We hug goodbye and as we both drive away, he honks and waves.

me: OMG LI drivers!!!
him: i know right?

9/20 --
He called but I couldn't answer. I call back on my way to the meeting. It's an alright conversation, but the fact I haven't seen him in a week is not lost on me.

10/4 --
Deleted his #, deleted the texts a few days ago. Went on a not-a-date last night with someone else. He paid for my ticket and kissed me good-night. It was not a date. I don't have that fluttery feeling, but maybe I could like him.



So what if the butterflies/goosebumps/unicorns-shitting-rainbows aren't there yet? They can form, right? And here's a guy who might like me. And I'm so fucking used to being alone that I worry I always will be. It's not just a habit, it's an ingrained trait. I don't want it to be. (Still, don't force something with someone who isn't right.) But just enjoy the company? For a little while? Forget about the other guy. It's stupid.

(So many brain cells about boys. So. Many. Cells.)

Sunday, October 2, 2011

hopefully-not-a-fluke

Sunday is when the crazies come out, my co-worker says. And usually, I agree. But I didn't have to close today, it was busy enough that I was never bored but not so busy I was overwhelmed. Not a single customer annoyed me.

What the hell? Maybe I was well-rested from my count-them, one TWO DAY BREAK, oh-my-God, the feast of relaxation and free time!!!

I even opened two, no, three, credit cards for customers (a total fluke) and was awarded a cheap plastic bag with the company emblem on it with a matching water bottle, neither of which I will ever, ever use, but still - a tiny spot of accomplishment.

Callooh, callay*, October is in the air. You can smell the cold, the scent of burning wood. Drive to the lake and stare at the bruised blue-gray sky after the sun has set. Feel the autumn sink into your skin, for soon the leaves will change.

Merry October! Weather, you may now turn cold, for October is the month for autumn. Anything before then is just a sad death of summer.

This week: Get laptop BACK, dammit. Call sources for two freelance stories. Attend and write story on school board meeting. Let this good mood stick.


*Attachments, by Rainbow Powell. Read it.

Saturday, October 1, 2011

weekend

Friday. C's birthday. I don't want to go, I say 5,000X. I don't know anyone. I won't have fun.

Of course I have fun, because alcohol is a social lubricant, and my favorite drug. And a girl from work shows up so I have someone to talk to, and the boy who I've drunkenly made out with before is there and giving me attention and that, with the alcohol, is making him a whole lot cuter.

Is he really a good kisser, or was that the late hour and the alcohol? Who knows. I still have a memory of the old one floating around, though....kind of kills the kissing buzz. (Unfair.)

I never get hangovers (I remember ever getting one in college), and I wasn't bad this morning, but not good. Was so glad I didn't have work. Didn't eat anything til 2. Took a 3.5-hour nap. (Lazy! Sloth! Whatever! It was my day off!)

Saturday. K. makes me dinner. Mac-and-cheese, mashed potatoes, lemon chicken, veggies and crab-stuffed mushrooms. (Sorry, gents, she's taken.) (I am so blessed.) I did bring the wine. I'm not a total mooch.

Pick up N. and go for a drink. We're both tired. The liquid poison feels good. Maybe I did drink way too much last night, if some hair-of-the-dog is soothing at 10pm.

Another weekend. Work tomorrow. It was a nice two days off.