veryunordinary's Xanga

Tuesday, June 26, 2007

Tue, 26 Jun 2007 06:18:05 GMT

Ah, I see. You have a girlfriend. It all makes sense, now. Your reaction back in May, your reluctance, all makes more sense. You already had someone else in mind.

I'm not blaming you for anything, of course. There's nothing to blame. I took too long to say what I wanted to say, and when the time finally came to release my words, I choked on my confession. I told you that I liked you in the most awkward and unflattering way possible. That's not how the conversation was supposed to go, by the way. I was supposed to be eloquent. I was supposed to tell you all the things you mean to me, and not just leave you with a "you're awesome, I'm awesome, and we'd, like, be totally awesome together!"

You're so much more to me than that. The real answer to why I liked you in the first place is because you somehow know exactly what to say to me, and exactly how to say it. You seem to "show up" in my near-breakdown moments, and somehow know precisely how to set my world right again. No one else has been able to do that. No one else has reached my core like you have.

I admire so much in you: your conviction, your calling, your dedication, your non-discriminating nature, the way you're willing to befriend everyone, your heart for people. You're a gifted, compassionate communicator and a valuable friend. My reasons go far beyond the humor, the inside jokes. You're someone I could see myself with.

I spent four semesters trying to figure out how I felt about you, and didn't make up my mind until you left to study abroad. I spent two semesters after that pining over possibilities. Now I feel foolish for wasting so much mental energy on something that ultimately wasn't going to happen. I wish I could have told you all my reasons why when I had the chance.

Tuesday, May 15, 2007

Tue, 15 May 2007 16:55:22 GMT

Dear Adorable Young Man Who was Shopping with His Mother at the Victoria's Secret in Marlton on Monday Afternoon,

I wanted to thank you for coming into the store during my shift. I don't know if you know this or not, but you're adorable. I didn't ask if that baby was yours (though I will confess that I checked your left hand for a ring and was slightly encouraged by its absence), but whether he is or not (I was sincerely hoping he's your nephew or something like that), it's a clever way to attract women. As is standing in the middle of Victoria's Secret, looking just a little bit lost while your mother shops for panties. It brings out your sensative and conscientious side, which makes you even more adorable. I wanted to thank you for brightening my day, especially after my encounter with Grumpy Old Man Who Wanted to Buy Six of our Skimpiest Thongs (ewww!). I would have given you my number, or my scheduele for the rest of the week, but I didn't want to look too desperate. I decided to go out of my way to help your mother instead.

Anyway, on behalf of stressed and over-worked retail sales workers everywhere, thank you for gracing me with your adorableness and your concerned, sensative nature. I'll be working every evening except Wednesday this week, should you care to stop by again. And I'm sorry I didn't have a light for you, or any spare cigarettes or whatever you were looking for. If I ever take up smoking, I will personally hunt you down to offer you a light.

Sincerely,
Rebekah

Saturday, May 05, 2007

Sat, 05 May 2007 04:53:37 GMT

Very quick update: So far, retail = the best ego de-booster ever. I can't answer anyone's questions and I feel dumb. If you're ever in the mood to completely deflate your confidence and self-assurance, work a few shifts at Victoria's Secret, where everyone expects you to know all the answers after four hours of training in a tiny stock room with ten other girls, watching videos with bad, over-exuberant actors. Honestly, how can a person learn effective customer service (and if there's one thing Victoria's Secret is hardcore about, it's their superior customer service) by watching four hours' worth of videos?

Thanks for reading. Come again, and have a good evening!

Wednesday, April 25, 2007

Wed, 25 Apr 2007 18:07:53 GMT

So I have a job for the summer. I'm working at Victoria's Secret in Marlton starting on Saturday. Not my first choice for summer employment, but it's the only place that's come through so far, and they're willing to pay me at least $7.00/hr.

In light of my new job, I thought I'd list some summer objectives to keep myself busy and productive. Oxford has made me a more driven and goal-oriented person. Or something.

Without further ado, My Summer Objectives:

overcome my fear of incompetency and human interaction while working in a demanding retail environment
take my lab science at the local community college and rack up an extra four credits to get me back on track from the last two semesters
renew my learner's permit and learn to drive
finish reading the books I borrowed from my best friend three years ago
start writing regularly again

This list may expand as the summer continues.

Tuesday, April 24, 2007

Tue, 24 Apr 2007 03:17:19 GMT

This is what happens while I'm waiting for my summer job to start; I spend all afternoon creating new layouts for my Xanga. My latest layout features some photos that I took of New College in bloom (New College was the college I was associated with while studying at Oxford this past semester).

...I'll have some fabulously introspective entries soon.

Some Reflections from Across the Pond...

Fri, 09 Mar 2007 16:31:23 GMT

I should have chronicled my Oxford experiences here a lot sooner, i.e. before the end of 8th week, which marks the end of term.

I've learned a lot since I've been here. I've learned that I'm more of a student than I thought I was. I love the hunt for information, piecing together the puzzle of primary sources and critical material to arrive at a well-supported answer to a question that may seem cryptic and unrelated to the reading at first, but unfolds itself in the course of research until everything makes sense and falls into place. The excitement of enlightenment drives me. My medieval literature tutor told me that you know you've been successful when you can leave Oxford feeling like more of a scholar, as opposed to feeling incompetent in the face of constant criticism of your arguments. If that's the case, then this term has certainly been a success.

I've learned that I can take care of myself. I no longer feel the need to run home to escape the Big Issues of my life. I can find my own way to cope, I can heal myself, I can integrate my Big Issues into my daily life and maintain a relatively sane exterior. I've learned to stop running, to stop escaping, and to face my problems head-on. I've learned to become more comfortable with my discomfort. I've also learned that I am competent at being domestic.

I've learned how not to react when someone tries to kiss me for the first time, and how not to handle a fling I was ambivalent about from the start.

I've learned to be comfortable with being alone. I can be confident in my solitude, not anxious. Not having a wide circle of friends does not equal rejection by society, it simply means that I prefer to maintain a simpler network of deeper relationships.

I've grown confident in myself both as a student and as an individual. I may not have traveled as much as I could have, I may not have thrown myself into the Oxford student social scene, I may have preferred isolation early on a little too dearly, but I do not feel that any of this cheapened my experience. I have grown up a little more since being here, and I'm proud of what I've accomplished.

...And I am so looking forward to traveling to Ireland in the next two weeks!

And I never want to let you down...

Sun, 10 Dec 2006 07:31:35 GMT

Sometimes, the soul needs to be laid bare in words. This is me - my fears and my neuroticisms and my thoughts that I rarely want to jot down, for fear of owning that they're really my own. This is a rambling, dis-jointed exploration of the hidden depths of myself.

I am passionate and deep. I am a woven tapestery of heritages, both adopted and inherited. I am genetics and I am nuturance, and I’m terrified of being too much of either. I am artistic and often get stuck inside of myself. I attach myself to people from afar and cause myself tremendous undue pain as a result. I carry other people’s burdens a little too closely. I am involved with and fiercely loyal to my friends and family. No one can speak ill of them or hurt them in any way besides myself. No one can take the same liberties with them that I do. No one is allowed as close to them as I am. An attack on my friends and family is an attack on me, and I will fight for them, even if I’m afraid to do so. I am unbalanced. I often withdraw into myself and need someone to bring me out of my own head. I have deep-running feelings that I fear I lack the words to express. I belong to two families - the one that gave me life and the one that raised me. I’ve had a void in my life that I’ve tried to fill with other people. I’ve pawned my emotions off on strangers who never knew how deeply I felt about them. I’ve scared myself with my level of silent romantic infatuation. I often want to slip away from this world into something better. I’m impatient for good things to happen to me. I’m impatient for a lasting romantic relationship to develop. I want to be in control of myself and my environment. I am depressive and can’t handle stress. I would drop out of school if I could; obligation to succeed is the only thing that keeps me going. I have a hard time accepting myself and letting go. I have a hard time being honest when I have a problem. I want help and support from others, but I feel guilty for accepting it. I’ve blamed myself for my parents’ problems. I live with a bi-polar, obsessive-compulsive father, and I blame myself for his mood swings. I walk on egg shells around other people in social situations because I trained myself to in order to keep my father appeased. I’m afraid that I’m doomed to an aimless life, because it’s in my blood. I don’t pray regularly and I don’t attend church; I feel like I need to figure myself out first before I tackle issues of my faith. My own parents deviated from their religious convictions when they were my age, so I don’t necessarily feel guilty for doing the same. I worry about how other people perceive me. I give away my deeply personal secrets too easily, because I’m so eager to let people in, yet I fear rejection based on those secrets at the same time. I’m afraid that I will never be completely understood. It takes a lot for me to allow another person to unlock my soul. I’ll only trust people to a certain point; there are many things about myself that I haven’t even yet told my best friend. I still don’t feel fully at home anywhere, and I wonder if I ever will. I’m somewhat superstitious; I tend to read too much into coincidences and interpret them as signs that something is supposed to happen. I often wonder what people would do if I suddenly died, if I just dropped dead and they found my body lying somewhere. I’m suspicious of people, and often feel paranoid in large crowds. I’m afraid that one day, I’ll slump into a low mood that I won’t be able to bring myself out of. I suspect that it’s just a matter of time before I go insane. I’m plagued by disturbing thoughts at night, things that I ponder that keep me awake and in fear. I feel incompetent in almost everything I do. I get frustrated when I’m in a deep and sharing mood and have no one to share my thoughts with. When I try to share my deeper self, the words never seem to find their way out. I can only seem to express the essence of my soul on paper. I feel like I’ll never be fully confident in myself. I conform myself to other people’s ideas to please them, even though I don’t want to. I always try to impress other people, even though I just want to be my genuine self. I feel like I don’t know who my genuine self is. I want to be in love, and I want someone to love me, preferably at the same time and preferably soon. I feel guilty every time I pray, because I’ve neglected my spiritual life for so long. I’m afraid to let myself grow up. I’m afraid to be completely by myself. I’m always surprised by what others think of me. I have no idea how I present myself to others. I am insecure. I always compare myself to others. I’m afraid of being alone for the rest of my life. I’m afraid that I’ll never find anyone to share my life with. A lot of times, I don’t want to live my life. I often wish I could be somebody else, somebody with a different family and a different, stable legacy. Sometimes I’ll starve myself on purpose; I don’t feel like eating, and part of me relishes that empty, gnawing feeling in the pit of my stomach. I’d like to see how long I could go without eating a meal. I’m not concerned with my weight and I’m not afraid to eat, but many times I’ll purposely make it through a whole day with only a salad for dinner. I’ll keep myself uncomfortable because I’m afraid to move. I feel obligated to remain quiet, unnoticed and uncomplaining. I’ve been trying to fill the void in my soul with other people, because it’s easier than facing my problems myself.

NaNoWriMo 2006

Mon, 13 Nov 2006 02:25:44 GMT

This is a cop-out post, not to explain my absence from the Xanga world for the past many weeks or to update with any philosophical insights on the nature of life, but simply to say that I am participating in National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) again this year, with a fantastic plot and terrible prose. I'll be posting my NaNovel chapter by chapter as I write more; you can read it at Down Draft, my official blog for NaNoWriMo 2006.

OMG...

Mon, 16 Oct 2006 18:15:12 GMT

My God, why am I such a ridiculous, giddy school girl?

...

Probably because you just IMed me from Costa Rica.

Monday, September 25, 2006

Mon, 25 Sep 2006 18:17:26 GMT

I'm sorry, I don't care about your liturgy. I don't care about the Vatican II documents or which way the priest should face or where the altar should be placed. I don't care about speaking vs. chanting vs. hymns vs. praise songs vs. an organ vs. a freaking 100-piece orchestra. If I myself were Catholic, maybe I'd show a little more interest. But quite honestly, I don't care and don't think that I ever will. I'm glad you have a passion, I'm glad you have a calling, I'm glad that God has lain the reform of the entire Catholic church so heavily on your heart, but please don't try to reform me in the process. I'm not Catholic and probably never will be, but should I ever choose to convert, you'll be the first person I tell, I promise.