If I could pretend to be anything, it would be normal.

Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.
So, no, YOU'RE the butt head!

I have been called many a thing. From reserved to intimidating, two categories of people who I feel are  in direct conflict with each other, but all together I am noted as someone who is reserved and generally not a people person. My favorite explanation of my personality is that I am velcro. But not the fuzzy side. The hooky side.
The side that you wouldn't want to rub against your face, but get close enough to it and it will grab and hold onto you.


Which is what might make Halloweekend so great, because the whole point is to not be yourself. Pretend to be normal? I can do that. I did that. If we define normal as listening to blaring music in a basement next to the yellow Power Ranger and wondering to yourself where all the other rangers went.

So I guess this was me being outgoing and nice. All the things I am generally too busy drowning in textbooks for. 

200 bonus points if you get my costume. No. I am not just a bumble bee.

I just want a side note of the girl next to me. She had the best costume idea I ever saw. She was "fishin' for compliments". (The one on her hook said, "Your costume is so clever." To which the passive irony of blew my socks off.)

1 million bonus points if you get that costume.

 So I did it. I guess I learned that this so-called "outside world" isn't so bad, albeit cold, and I should probably get used to it. Although I could easily just as relapse into a study-induced coma until next Halloween because that sounds much more likely.

Stop the World, I want to get off.

What is the world coming to where I can't even take fifteen minutes in the morning to go get a bagel before six hours of class and the resulting Mt. Saint Homework without feeling like I've defiled a moral standard? I'm a responsible kid, I promise! No, I wasn't procrastinating, I swear!

Rocking such a crazy schedule right now, I know it's good for me to rest for a while--hell, my major is based off the idea-- but when you feel bad taking time off because you know it just aggregates the work you already have then you can't enjoy a thing.

I'm living to work.

When I realize I haven't had time for a shower and need to schedule one, just pencil it in, because I haven't done so in a while. It's a little pathetic. Not to mention the fact that eating something other than a handful of carrots and a pack of Gushers on the run is a luxury.
Cleaning the apartment? It's on the back burner over in left field.
It's gotten so bad, in fact, the insects and spiders who have invaded it are waging war over the territory.

Whatever these things are. They're winning.

Seriously. Those THINGS, which happen to be as long as an inch and as wide as three to four inches, have occupied the bathroom since about last week and I won't kill them, but I keep trying to politely thow them out the window to their deaths that I wouldn't cause.
I'm a humanitarian.

We're at the point where I am wigged out to be in the bathroom alone, feeling something fuzzy and wriggling over my foot when I'm not looking. I can't even sit on the toilet in peace without first checking around it and under the heater for them. When I'm satisfied none of them are going to come out and bite me (Not Joking. They have fangs) I check again to be super double absolutely sure.
My bathroom breaks have turned into mini-episodes of Fear Factor.
Sorry. I disgress.

My point is, seeing how I need to sum up and get to class, is that college has created a time of nega-fun. Not only do I feel bad when I'm not working, but the times that should be fun are no longer so for the amount of my workload bearing on the back of my brain. But it's all apart of growing up, right? Learning who you are and that you don't get summer breaks or weekends anymore.

Welcome to Adulthoodland. Population: Billions of somber grown ups...and you.

Ain't No Rest for the Wicked

 Despite my best efforts to become a baker and earn money selling people mouthfuls of delicious-happiness cupcakes, I ended up working in a lab testing toxins on rat brain cells.

Oh Life, you mischevious little imp, you.

My schedule allows no time for moping over spilt frosting though, I've got more important things to do. Science things. And here's the coolest part: I get a lab coat! I'm way too excited for this, but it's all white and new and it comes with goggles and these awesome purple latex gloves. Putting them on, to work with potentially explosive chemicals (Honestly, the fridges in the lab are explosion proof. Who has a need for such things??) I look like a super hero.
Nah, much less a hero and more a super villian. But, nonetheless super in some form.

One of the perks of the job is being insanely busy, which is nice for me because I have excuses for being a social reject. My boss, after three hours together in the same room, looked at me said, "Thanks for being so flexible, I'm sure you have better things to be doing." And I almost laughed in her face and after trying to explain to her how very very little I had going on, ("Seriously, working with corrosive materials was the highlight of my weekend")
She looked taken aback. No jokes, straight to my face she said, "But you don't look like a nerd to me."

I could have kissed her feet.

Mr Cellophane

"A human being's made of more than air
With all that bulk, you're bound to see him there
Unless that human bein' next to you
Is unimpressive, undistinguished
You know who..."

-Chicago

I'm not a big Bob Fosse fan, but for those of you who are I understand. Great work. Love Chicago. Everyone know the scene where Amus finally gets called by his name and he looks up at the lawyer and says bewildered with content, "Amus. That's right--my name is Amus." because the whole time people mix up his name and call him Andy?

You can tell it gets him down, like his whole life everyone expected him to be some Andy-guy. And really it's not that big of a deal, but to him you can see it. His whole life has been a big mess of people scrunching up their faces for recognition and saying to one another, "You know him, the one---ahh, what's his name, Andy or something? Yeah. Him."

Let's take for example a couple of days ago where someone ran into me on a bike and not fifty steps later I had to jump off the sidewalk and into a puddle to avoid beeing careened in the face by a skateboarder. Felt like screaming out a "Hey! I'm walkin' here!" Midnight Cowboy-style but I'm not sure if Dustin Hoffman has given up the rights to that scene. And I was running late for class.

This moment right here, where the group from Germany told me they would love to work with me, a lot of frustration I had been having sort of sighed itself out. I don't know if it was the combination of having something to look forward to in the next couple of months, or if it was being able to check something off my big life to-do list, or even if it was just knowing that it is maybe possible, a tiny bit possible, to do something I'm really excited about with my time.
I can look at my name typed on that envelope, think, "That's right--my name is Rebecca" and be content.

Another Life Lesson Tossed at Me as a Curve Ball.

I've been itching to write for a while. I know, I know. Radio silence hurts me more than it does you, Computer. Honestly though nothing was worth posting up for eternity. I did have some whiny little post up for a day or two but thought better of it. I don't want to look back and just see me sobbing to a lonely keyboard. Windshields on a car are bigger than the rearview mirros for a reason. Look forward.

So as a catch-you-up, I guess I'll start by saying I'm getting over this crazy illness that had choked the very breath from me just a week ago. My nose is scabbed over and I haven't had a great nights sleep in a while, but apart from people telling me I look horrible, I'm alright. Other drama has been tossed in my path but for right now let's just excuse ourselves from it so I can post something without any regret.

I may have gotten my dream job.

For my major I need 'practical experience' to graduate. That's really just a fancy way of them telling me that I need to actually apply myself to the work before I can say with any conviction that I want to do this for the rest of my life. Not a bad idea, if I may add.

So I started looking around. I can't be affiliated with the university here, so working again at my old job was out of the picture. Next step? Google. I googled environmental psychology (I suggest you do it too if you're curious as to what I want to go into) and lo and behold they appeared. Check them out.

They are the Wald-Piraten It translates to Forrest Pirates. Their mascot is a parrot. I don't get it either. But they are a camp for children recovering from cancer treatments. Their logo is 'Keine Mitleid, nur eine faire Chance!' (No sympathy, just a fair chance.) and I want to squeeze them all to death. They're perfect. So so perfect. Located in Germany--like it would take another battle to get me over there--and doing something I don't just find admirable, but exactly what every kid needs, and what I am full speed ahead about helping. Especially if that involves canooing, rock climbing, horse back riding, and basically enjoying my summer with a bunch of people who deserve a nice childhood.

I remember the stupid counseling we went into after cancer crisis in my life. Coloring pictures and soothing colors painted on the walls. To this day I avoid telling people about my family because they get this empathetic hallow look behind their eyes, like they want to take my hand and say it'll be alright.
This won't be anything like that, I hope. Letting these kids just simply be kids for ten days, I feel, is the best idea. No pity here. Heck, I might even scold them if they're acting up. (Because that's what grown-ups do, right?)

I threw together my papers really fast after indicating interest in their program and now I have a phone interview set up. But they are already talking about my housing and transportation--so I feel like my chances are good.

There are a few drawbacks in play already, but I'm hoping within the next six months they'll work themselves out.

Finally feels like something might be going my way.