[Most Recent Entries]
Below are the 7 most recent journal entries recorded in
Who's your Muse?'s LiveJournal:
|Monday, October 2nd, 2006|
Topic Assignment: Write about your immediate vicinity
I'm working in a cube for the first time since my job at Strategic Management in State College. At first, I thought it would annoy me because it generally means no privacy and when I first started here, I also had a cubemate. It also meant that the only way that I could listen to music was through my headphones and after five years of working in an office, it's just a big change.
It turns out, that despite my constant boredom at work, my environment is what I like most about this job. My cubemate left for another job months ago and I found myself missing him desperately. I have been fortunate in my life that I've generally gotten along with most of my coworkers, especially at GunsRBad. I've even carried over friendships after leaving several of my jobs. Here at OPM, I'm one of only a few girls in our office and I really love that since I tend to exhibit more male gender traits than female ones. I fit right in with all the sports discussion and while I still think the boys are still shy about discussing sex around me, I can still hear what they are saying and slip in a comment here and there.
I really love all of my coworkers. I love the consulting company that employs me. I love the loose structure of the work here and I definitely love the fact that I can get here at 10:30am if I choose. It is unfortunate, however, that I don't love the actual work. Now, every so often, I will get assigned a project that excites me and I'm happy for a short period of time. Yet, overall, I'm generally uninspired and bored with the entire IT field. Not only do I want more and different, but I need it. There will be a time within the next year when I will have to force myself to move on to greener pastures, but it won't be for a lack of love for my cube farm and my peeps here at OPM. My mugs and my desk toys will travel with me, but so will the experience and memories that accumulated in the fog of my brain. My boredom, however, I'd like to leave that behind.
|Monday, June 5th, 2006|
Country Mouse Moves to the City
I knew that my life in Pennsylvania would come to an inevitable end, but I wish my last few months there hadn't been clouded with such turmoil. There was no doubt that living in D.C. would bring me happiness and if I could have made time spin a little bit faster, I wouldn't have hesitated to flip the switch. Yet, as I look back on those last two months in State College, I wish I could have packed better memories of those final days.
I'd rather not paint a "woe is me" picture here, but just around the time I was signing my lease for a new apartment in Falls Church, VA, I found out that my boyfriend of two years had cheated on me. No matter how I tried to confront him with this truth that I knew, he denied it. Yet, when the inevitable break-up happened, I was still sad and heartbroken. This began my last summer at Toftrees Apartments.
My roommate at the time, David, didn't help my woeful situation by morphing into a jobless, suicidal slackass. It was during this period of time that I became so frustrated with him that I only spoke to him when necessary. It took my threatening to break our lease three months early for him to even start looking for a new job. Yet, I was so afraid that any confrontation I might have with him would lead to me finding his lifeless and bloody body in my bathtub the next morning.
I'd like to say that I took this personal strife and frustration to a good friend and got it out of my system, but there was no such outlet for me to confide in at the time. Most of my college friends had graduated and moved on while I stayed in Pennsylvania and took advantage of a great work opportunity for a year after my commencement at Penn State. I soon became a lonely and depressed shell of my former self while I helplessly wished away an inordinate amount of those beautiful summer days. I was ready to begin my new life with the hope and excitement that I felt I deserved.
Moving to the D.C. metro area was a cleansing experience. I could start over again with new opportunites and a heightened appreciation for several of the things in life that I previously took for granted. I ended up thriving in a city environment, made some amazing, life-long friends and eventually learned how to deal with my problems without wishing away any days of the year. Someday I will leave here for another life on the other side of the fence, but I hope that I will have learned to fill my virtual boxes with more good memories than bad.
|Thursday, November 3rd, 2005|
My Parents, My childhood, Growing Up, My Mom Especially
I spent too many years taking my mom for granted, but that's what kids do, right? Until I went away to college, I didn't realize how lucky I had it growing up. Even today, I know very few people who grew up in a loving two parent family, let alone their actual sperm and egg donor as the parents in question.
I won't pretend that my childhood was perfect because we certainly weren't in competition with the Leave it to Beaver
household. However, there was always food on the table, a perfectly good roof over our heads and bundles of clothes to wear, even if some of them were hand-me-downs. We all went to a private Catholic school until we were ready (wanted to) transfer to the public school. We grew up in a very small town, but it was safe and there were always after-school activities to keep us occupied. In the summer, there were two local parks, a swimming pool and occasional trips to amusement parks.
As a six person family, we didn't go out to eat much or go on vacations, but they also weren't things that I thought about or really longed to do. We would often have cookouts in our backyard during the summer months. There were many neighborhood kids that became our playmates, or in the case of Missy M., our enemies. Ok, she was just my enemy, but my dad always backed me up on that one.
Through all of this, my mom was always there for us. She made sure we ate something before we left for school, packed our lunches and had a good meal waiting for us when we returned home. My mom only worked part time until I was in third grade, but the house was always clean and she made sure that we did all of our chores so we could get our allowance.
During my teenage years, I was the only child left living at home and I'd be crazy if I told you that I got along with my parents during this tumultuous time. We screamed at each other, we made each other cry, we spend days not even talking to each other. But, in the end, I always knew that my parents loved me.
My mom helped me fill out my college applications. She gave me rides to and from my boyfriend's house. She made sure that I had a nice prom dress. She paid for me to get my hair cut. She came and picked me up from school when I was sick. She convinced my dad to let me get my driver's license (finally!).
After I went away to college, my mom always made sure that my loan applications were filled out on time. She made sure that I always had money on my meal card. When I came home for a weekend, she always washed my clothes for me and cooked me some tasty meals.
Even today, my mom knows not to call me right after my football team loses. She knows just went to send me something in the mail that makes me smile. She comes to my apartment and cleans my kitchen and even puts up with my cats.
I don't ever want to take my mom for granted again, but I know that I will. I know that I'll go home some weekend and forget to make the bed when I leave and that I won't hear a peep about it. I know that she'll continue to send me the perfect birthday card and comfort me when I'm sad. I know that I'll always be in her thoughts and I know that she'll love me forever.
|Monday, October 17th, 2005|
Freshman Year of College Series: Jason
I'm not entirely sure what I was thinking when I started "dating" Jason. No, wait, I take that back...I know exactly what I was thinking. My high school boyfriend, my first love, had just broken up with me. I was depressed and lonely and in desperate need of some positive male attention. Although, in the long run, Jason's intentions toward me weren't always positive.
I met Jason on the "strip" one day when my best friend, Heather, and I were driving around Altoona looking for something (someone?) to do. He was very attractive. He was older than me. He kissed me after standing around by our cars talking for about 15 minutes. I wouldn't exactly say that I was smitten, but I was starting college in two weeks and he lived only a couple miles from my dorm. I suppose that I was intrigued, if nothing else. God knows, I wasn't anywhere near being over Brian. I suppose that Jason was my rebound guy, although I didn't really know that at the time.
A week or two after I started college, Jason finally called me. I had almost given up on him since I hadn't heard from him in a few weeks. Of course, I didn't know that he was probably busy watching his kid while his high-school aged girlfriend was starting her Senior year. Anyhow, we started seeing each other a couple times a week. We didn't do much besides drive around town, go out to eat and make out and fondle each other in my dorm room.
While my niave self didn't know it at the time, Jason spent alot of time using me. He used me for my car, he used me to get free meals, he even used me as companionship to get away from his bitchy girlfriend/mother-of-his-son. I don't actually remember how I found out about his girlfriend or his son, but I think that he eventually told me after I started asking too many questions. You'd think that would have been my first clue to disassociate myself with him. Remember the niave part? I wasn't kidding.
I held no illusions that I was in love with this guy or that our future entailed anything more than heavy make-out sessions, but I suppose that I still liked the attention. And he was a good kisser. And, as it turned out, he was pretty damn munipulative for a jobless high-school dropout/teenage father.
He once borrowed my car and didn't return it for over a week. Luckily, I knew where he lived and I convinced a friend of mine to drive me to his house to get the car back. This is where I had my first run-in with his girlfriend. I shouldn't blame her for being a bitch to me as it was obvious that she was more pissed off at him than me. After knocking on their door and telling him that I needed my car back now, she came out and confronted me about the car being mine, about who I was and how I knew Jason, etc. I told her the truth and I'm glad that she didn't decide to punch me in the face.
I do wish that this confrontation was the end of the Jason saga, but I wasn't the smartest 18 year old on the planet. I actually stopped taking his phone calls until he got the hint and stopped calling. I actually thought that I was free of the whole drama and would never see him again in my life. That is, until he called me from prision one day.
Yes, he called me from prision. He was sent to jail for six months for failing to pay child support for *another* illegitimate child that he donated sperm to in high school. Seriously. In all of this, I somehow managed to feel sorry for him (Don't ask me how.). He asked me to write letters to him in jail as he was bored and missed me and blah, blah sympathy-cakes. I agreed to write to him.
I'm pretty sure that all of my friends thought that I was insane by this point, but I couldn't see the harm in pen-paling with a deadbeat dad who formally used me for automobile priviledges. At least he was completely unsuccessful in trying to get in my pants.
Jason and I exchanged many letters over those six months. After he got out of jail, he started to call me again. I was living back at my parents house during summer break by this time. I attempted to avoid most of his calls, but he relented in wanting to see me. I finally gave in and agreed to meet him in Altoona one afternoon.
Luckily, I was much smarter and less niave by this point in my life so the climax of this story isn't quite as exciting or sordid as my previous actions might lead you to believe. I saw Jason for the last time that day. We drove around town, got some food, chatted a bit, I dropped him off at his mother's house and then went home. He continued to call me until my mother eventually told him to stop calling.
I'd like to think that I learned some kind of big lesson after this whole debacle, but I suppose that it just took some time and various life experiences for me to grow out of my niavity. I don't exactly regret meeting Jason or dating him, but I do look back on it all and wonder how I could have acted so idiotically. These days, he isn't even someone that would have gotten more than a passing glance from me. I don't even wonder or care what he's doing with his life now and it has been long enough that I might not even be able to pick him out of a line-up. He is, however, someone that I think about on occassion and realize that my experiences with him were just a part of growing up.
|Thursday, August 18th, 2005|
Allen was my second love. It all started a little less than a year after Brandon and I broke up. I wasn't quite over the heartache of losing my first love, my first relationship, my first closeness with a boy. Allen and I knew each other in high school, but weren't really friends, although I think we had some friends in common. We were both in the band and that summer, we both worked at the local McDonalds.
Our relationship started out as friends. At first look, he wasn't the most attractive guy you'd see, but his eyes...oh, I fell in love with his bright blue eyes before I fell in love with the rest of him. I do remember our first kiss though and how shy he was and, as he told me later, how much he didn't expect it to happen.
I was on summer break after my first year of college and Allen was three months short of being a Senior in high school. Again, I went for the younger boy. I took him on a picnic at my college and after sharing a nice lunch on a blanket under a bright blue sky (with puffy clouds), we shared our first kiss. Boy, was he an awful kisser...at first. He got better. Much better. I loved kissing him and I loved looking up into his eyes afterwards.
Sometimes, I think that our relationship was doomed from the start. He didn't have a driver's license yet, so after we both started school, we only got to see each other once or twice a week. Also, his mom really didn't like me for some reason. I honestly think his mom was a bit crazy, but she didn't help our relationship. It was hard being a 19 year old in college with absolute freedom and having to deal with a 17 year old high school boy who often had strict rules about when he could see me.
Still, for six months, we managed to make it seem like heaven. I fell for this boy faster than the first one. Our relationship was pretty intense. Sadly, I didn't lose my virginity to him (or to Brandon for that matter), but Allen was the first person that I had sex with while sober (and in love). I have to say, looking back, the sex wasn't that good, but at the time, it made me happy.
Our break-up story is a little complicated. I'd try to simplify it, but then it wouldn't do our whirlwind romance any justice. About four months after we started dating, I went to Penn State's main campus for a football game one weekend. I randomly met another boy there and felt that we had an strong and instant connection. As I mentioned before, I was quite frustrated having to deal with all of the high school restrictions of our relationship, so I thought that dating someone in college would be better for me. I think I dated both of them for about a week before I told Allen that I wanted to break up with him. I didn't tell him the real reason, but made it seem like I need "space" or something equally as lame.
After dating the new boy for about two weeks, the freshness and excitement wore off for both of us, I think. Plus, I we lived an hour away from each other and I never thought it was a good idea to start a relationship via long-distance. I saw Allen shortly after and I found myself curled up in a ball crying from the pain of missing him. I didn't know it was there until I saw him that day. I immediately broke up with the new boy and asked Allen to get back together. Suprisingly, he agreed.
We were dating...again. Sometimes, I think those last two months were more intense than ever. At one point, I thought he was the guy I was going to marry. We even had a conversation about it. Sadly, I was still niave.
One day, out of the blue, Allen called me and broke up with me. He didn't give me any real reason other than that he needed time to himself. Ok, I thought, I'll give him some space and then we'll get back together. Well, as anyone could guess, that didn't happen. I was really sad about it for a long time. I didn't understand why he broke up with me at all. I tried to ask him, but, quite honestly, he had gone a bit crazy. The next time I saw him, he turned away and acted like he didn't even know who I was.
I still don't quite know why we broke up and why he did it so damn suddenly. I honestly don't think there was another girl. I honestly don't think that I did anything to upset or hurt him. It's just one of those things that I'll never know the answer to. I think about Allen sometimes, although less frequently than Brandon. I still occassionally wear the ring that he bought me when we were dating. There's still a specific song that makes me instantly think of him. And, of course, there is always a small part of me that will wonder what would have happened if I hadn't broken up with him in the first place. Still, I hope that he is happy now and I hope that when he thinks of me (even if on rare occassions) he smiles.
|Wednesday, June 15th, 2005|
I found out this morning that I was right. I didn't want to be right, but I seem to have some kind of sixth sense for stuff like this. So, now, I'm sitting here wondering what is wrong with me. Inherently, I know that he's just an asshole and I am better than him, but at the surface, all I want to do is cry. I want to close my office door, curl up in a fetal position and cry like a damn baby. It won't change things but it might make me feel better. It might help me release all of the anger and disappointment that I'm feeling right now. It will most likely remind me that I never want to love again. It's too hard. I don't my want life to be too hard anymore. I hate emotions. I hate feeling like a tool. I need to move on. I need to get out the tears and move on. I need to get over all of this cynical broken heart bullshit and continue to act like a grown-up. After all, I've done a good job so far, right? Being a grown-up, that is.Same conflict in second person narrative...
Tarin was IMing with Aaron for about 2 hours before she signed off and collapsed on her bed. The tears that she usually holds back came in mammoth quantaties tonight. She didn't want to be right about him. She wanted her imagination to be just that...an unbelievable fantasy that she concocted out of pure jealousy. It's times like this that Tarin wished she could talk to someone about her problems, but she barely breaks down that wall, even with Jenny. All of her friends know her as the strong-willed girl who always has her emotions under control. However, tonight, she knew that she just had to let the well flow hard and fast. She would curl up with her stuffed raccoon and cry and lament for hours about how horrible he is and how much he didn't deserve her. She would blast herself for loving him like she did. She would eventually fall asleep and wake up sad and scared of the new day ahead of her. But, she wouldn't let her absolute misery show in front of others. She just can't handle those sympathetic and belittling reactions, but for now, she lets herself cry in silence.
Just a short scene to get started
The thunder and lightening was intense. The rain poured down harder than I've ever remembered it doing before tonight. Of course, the weather was fitting to my mood, so perhaps I wanted it to rain even harder, for the thunder to crackle so loud that it might scare me. So that it might take my mind off my myriad problems. Not problems really, though...more like scenarios. Sometimes I think too much and tonight, my brain was definitely going into overdrive. I could help thinking about him and wondering what he's doing right now. I should be able to trust my boyfriend, right? Right? Then why is it that I'm just sitting here picturing him with every girl in the East Village? And why are all the girls in my imagination prettier than me? Why am I mentally trying to set myself up for a fall that hasn't happened yet? I really should just get some sleep.