The Glass

Ooo watch out, folks. I am attempting a daily prompt today. The Daily Prompt asks,

Is the glass half-full, or half-empty?

Honestly, that question has always kind of irritated me. Why? I don’t like it’s connotations. If you are to think the glass is half-full then that must obviously mean you’re optimistic and pessimistic if you feel it is half-empty. I don’t believe that way, but I also believe it’s just a glass and it can be both depending on how you want to look at it. And the way you look at it doesn’t deem a character flaw or strength or depression or otherwise.

I am also a little more literal in the sense that if you pour out or drink some of the liquid, then it would automatically mean half-empty, but if you just filled it then it would be half-full. So it can be based on technicalities.

In my little world, it can be both based on how you look at it, but how you look at it doesn’t determine your optimism or pessimism.

Daily Promtin’ Like A Baller & Confessions

Michelle asked me (and possibly you, too):

Describe your relationship with your phone. Is it your lifeline, a buzzing nuisance, or something in between?

I am the extremely lucky owner of the HTC Radar (4G–importance of that, I have yet to know.) through T-Mobile. Sometimes I love you, sometimes I hate you, sometimes I wish I were a cat so I could really claw your eyes out and piss in your shoe. Oh, wait.. this is about the phone. Scratch that.

I can become attached to my material items. I don’t really have many so I think that’s a small part of it. The other part would be that I love technology. Do not confuse that with being very knowledgeable about it.

If I am at a social part in my life, I can grow to hate my phone. I’m a loser loner, baby, so why don’t you kill leave me (alone). There has to be some psychological reason why I get overwhelmed with too much attention. It’s like stage fright to the 10th power (if I remember how math works). I was like this since I was small so it’s not like it doesn’t come natural. I always went to my friends’ houses. Only on occasion did I have friends at my house. Except Miss Flighty, we were more at my house when we weren’t getting into trouble.

On my phone now,  it’s a Windows phone and I love it. The only thing that pisses me off is that it lags closing apps and I think that was made that way purposefully so you can hit the windows touch button so you can swipe between many apps. I rarely use that feature. I close and jump around. I swear my battery thanks me for it. Or I thank my battery for lasting longer. I can do 3 full days between charging. Yes, that is because I am not texting like a kid on crack anymore and I rarely make or receive phone calls. My phone is a portable computer.

I love that it’s Windows because of the layout. It fucking rocks. The home screen is (why is cutomizable not a word? [insert synonym to the nonexistent word]) with which “tiles” you want readily available. It’s also infinite scroll so you aren’t limited like android and iPhone do with only so many screens available. Plus, the tiles can be big or small and makes it an easier read. For the tiles you don’t want on the main screen are in an alphabetic list on the secondary screen. If you have a child who you let play with your phone, that’s awesome. So they only have access to things you don’t want deleted. Also, if you need to hand over your phone for a snoop to use (I am a snoop so this is no offense to snoops) you can have only things you don’t mind being seen on the main screen. Windows phone doesn’t show there is a secondary screen like how android and iPhone can show at the bottom or top of the phone how many screens and which you’re on.

I am such a Windows fanatic, I should work for the damn company. Oh that reminds me, I have to share something with you that I find so hilarious!!!

Brought to me by Dooce.com: This fantastical website: The Creative Confessional:

How I felt during the Editing process in Film School:

I smoked an entire pack of cigarettes in a 4 hour block.-CB

I smoked an entire pack of cigarettes in a 4 hour block.-CB

Why my tattoos do not contain lettering:

I am an ass, I know.-CB

I am an ass, I know.-CB

Recent Studies:

Sorry to burst any bubbles.-CB

Sorry to burst any bubbles.-CB

Anti-Apple = Hipster? / Ignorant Public:

Just saying.-CB

Just saying.-CB

Mac is whack.-CB ;)

Mac is whack.-CB ;)

 

Breaking the law! Breaking the law!

The Beavis and Butt-head Experience

(Photo credit: Wikipedia)

That’s the only lyric I know from that metal song that plays in my brain like an earworm on crack and conjures images of old Beavis and Butthead episodes.

I was 15 years old when what I am about to tell you occurred. I was a good kid, straight A student. I don’t know what happened.* 

Greg was a good friend of mine and he was hot. I don’t know about you, but to me at that age: Good Friend + Hella Hott = Crush. He was tall with blue-green eyes and dirty blonde hair that he would gel into messy spikes. He had a tongue piercing, he was troubled like me, didn’t give a fuck what anyone thought of him. He was a bad boy. A bad boy and a good person. I could talk to him about anything and was welcome to come over when I wanted, he only lived a house over from me.

I was hanging out with a ginger named Jes. She was a good friend. She knew I liked Greg so I introduced them and we all hung out together. She was a good friend until she started dating Greg. Greg didn’t know I was crushing on him, but that didn’t make me any less territorial. I explained that to Jes, but why would she care? She didn’t even know him as well as I did. All of this doesn’t excuse what I did though.

It was the first week of October. I know this because Jes’ birthday is the 4th, mine the 5th and after school on the 6th Greg and I hooked up. I broke a rule, a rule that involved friendship and hurt feelings. She had only been dating him a couple of weeks, but this was pretty low. What’s worse? I didn’t care then because she knew how I felt about him before she pursued him, and I don’t care so much now either. I know what I did was wrong, but I don’t regret it.

I am one of the very few people I know that doesn’t regret how she gave up her virginity. Looking back, 15 is so young. I wouldn’t want to think of my (future) daughter even being felt up at that age, but that’s what happened and I wouldn’t change it.

So I was an adulterer at 15, but I have never had any inclination whatsoever to hook up with any man who’s already in a relationship. No matter how hot they are. I’ll never be the other woman and I would never cheat. You could think less of me, but realize I was a kid when this went down.

In high school you are trying to figure out who you are, not realizing you may not discover that until you are in college or the working world. You are going to break hearts, hurt feelings, get ridiculously drunk at parties, maybe try some dope, possibly have sex, find best friends, become worst enemies, then best friends again. Nothing is off-limits and the façade your child wears around you may completely be different from what they show their friends. She/he could be a straight A good kid and getting high and meeting boys/girls behind your back.

My mom and I had excellent communication when I was growing up. So much so that I felt guilty for having had sex and I wrote her a letter about it. I also always was the kid that if I lied, not 5 minutes later I’d go to her room to confess that I lied.

I am not a rule breaker, but that is one thing I did that broke the rule of friendship. I lived, I loved, I learned and came out pretty much unscathed. It was high school.

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*Sentence from an old ant-drug commercial that I can’t find on youtube.

Post inspired by today’s Daily Post Prompt: Think about the last time you broke a rule (a big one, not just ripping the tags off your pillows). Were you burned, or did things turn out for the best?

What I Never Knew About Myself*

Something happened that began the night before last night, but I don’t want to blog here about it because I am saving it for a Guest Blog post that Rara has invited me to do. I see that shocked look on your face, I know. I am gobsmacked myself — an A-List blogger wants this D-List blogger to whip something out to be featured on her blog!? Is she nuts?? Did she just discover the crazy effects Ganja has on ideas? I don’t know. Or she could just really like me. I am gearing more toward the Ganja.

I didn’t write yesterday because of the thing occurring and I know I needed to put something in today because I am compulsive when it comes to blogging. I miss a day and I feel deflated. So I was pleased when I came about today’s Daily Post Prompt:

Describe your last attempt to learn something that did not come easily to you.

There are some things that I don’t think apply to this because they will always be things I am learning. Like having a stable relationship, boundaries between people, anything with human behavior is off-limits to this. That’s under the category of always being a learning process. It’s not anything set in stone.

Sheldon Cooper

That being said, it doesn’t leave me with much else. I am not saying I am so intelligent that I am a freaking genius and people should bask in my glory, but I could possibly say that if I was without a filter and a little lot bit neurotic like that of Sheldon Cooper in The Big Bang Theory. Things come naturally easy for me. The way God chose to balance my quick learning skill was to make it so it would be extremely hard for me to have a direct route to utilize it. That and the gift of bipolar disorder. He made me indecisive, self-conscious and moody. Damn him. Oh, don’t worry. He and I are [likethis]. We go way back. Focus on your own relation/non-relationship with him, please.

It started when I was in Preschool. I was naturally shy, but when we were learning and doing work, no other person but Miss Star existed in that room. My eyes, attention, ears were all focused on her. My hand was the first to go up when she asked us a question. I was a perfect really good student. That took me into Kindergarten and there was where I was taken out of the class one day and they tested me without my knowledge. A couple of days later I was given an envelope to take home to my mom. I cried all the way home on the bus, I was certain that I was in grave trouble. I gave it to my mom (I was never a rule breaker, tell me I had to do something, I did it) and she read it in front of me and started laughing. I looked at her like she was fucking nuts. She got down to my level and said, “Sarah, you’re not in trouble. This is a letter to tell me they want to challenge you more.” [insert my bizarre look here] “They want to put you in gifted.” And then she went on to explain what all that meant. In Virginia, back in whatever year I was in Kindergarten, they did it like this. I would start with my regular class in the morning and then I would be called out of the classroom to go to another room. We would do work and then play and then for reading they would take us 1 by 1 and I would read to a teacher. I was reading chapter books in Kindergarten, 4th and 5th grade level.

I am not going to say every class I had in my academic career was easy-peasy, but I maintained honor roll and Principal’s list in Virginia, and then held A’s-B’s through my schooling here in Florida. Which to tell you the truth, Florida schools suck. I’m not blaming the teachers, but the school board and the curriculum is crap.

I am intelligent, but my decision-making skills and my self-disciplinary skills are quite lacking. I almost graduated high school early in my junior year, but dropped out of that program because it was boring. There was no class structure, it was sitting in front of a computer (think old computer with those big bulky horrible resolution monitors) working at your own pace and logging your own hours. That gave me too much freedom. So what did I do? I dropped out in my senior year of high school only needing 2 credits to graduate. That’s 2 classes. That means I was in school until 11 in the morning, the rest of my day was free.

I went to community college the following fall based off a diploma neither I or they knew was fake. I was making A’s in all of my classes and I dropped out because it felt like “the 13th grade”. Had I finished that semester, I would have been grandfathered in meaning I could continue taking my college courses and obtaining those credits, I would just need to get my GED before I received my AA (not to be confused with alc-anon, I’m talking Associate of Arts degree).

The only time I carry discipline is when it comes to work. I will stick with a job no matter how miserable I can get. Doing so has given me a lot of accomplishments. I can work with anybody; no matter how cranky, crazy, idiotic they are. I excel in customer service, you can rip my head off and shove it up my ass, but you’re damn well going to leave with a smile on your face and come back tomorrow. I have a customer service award to prove it and a numerous amount of customer calls with my name on them, and I had regulars. Yes, as a pharmacy technician, I had people who would only come in when I was working. I also trained my fellow coworker so well that she gained her own following and took my lead position when I left. Out of everything I accomplished and experienced, that was my proudest moment. Even if I had only accomplished that and hadn’t received the award, I’d have felt successful.

I also passed my National Certification test the first attempt without having studied. I was for sure I was going to fail, especially when I was being asked the hospital formulas and equations, hospital pharmacy is quite a bit different from retail.

With all this gloating said, I haven’t come by anything that was difficult for me to learn. I was born to learn. I didn’t know this about myself until now.

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*And you learned how self-involved I can truly be. If you actually made it through this post. Kudos!

Love is Like Falling (Falling is Like This)

Shh, don't tell.

Shh, don’t tell.

I like to think I am tough. That I am a realist or at least have some realistic views on the world. Although, if I were to be honest and realistic right now, I would concede that rarely I can be optimistic and mostly I can be pessimistic, or at least doubtful. I experience random bouts of optimism on my future. Feeling like I am no longer the flaky chick who tells people she has found her direction on what she think she should be or do professionally, then changes her mind a week or less later. Letting the doubt creep in and take over. Looking for an easier direction in the very back of my private mind hoping to simply crash into my Knight in Shining Armor who will rescue me by motivating me to do better and be better. I’m just being honest — and a little vulnerable right now.

In my mind, I treat it as a fantasy. I know in my mind, logically, I shouldn’t have to need a connection with someone to want to succeed in my life. Don’t harp on me, please.

I was originally trying to say I am a hopeless romantic in a tough, don’t fuck with me exterior and I favorite that about myself and it has always been a little secret and if others know, it’s because I am a terrible liar/actor. Disney sucked my brain out, I guess. Or maybe The Notebook even though I am not a fan of Nicholas Sparks, nor do I think the book did any justice to the movie. Yes, I said that. Yes, you can quote me. No, I didn’t mean it the other way around. The script was better than the book. I also love movies like Nana which is a Japanese flick based off the anime of 2 girls falling into a deep friendship with each other and love with their respective partners. Not each other’s, their own. I also like the kooky movie 2 Days in Paris. I love the movie Like Crazy. I love hearing about other people’s relationships. Forgetting I’ve loved and then remembering I had. Very deeply. Trying to remember what it was like to be loved.

With Sex and the City (HBO series, not movie), I was a huge Aidan fan. Huge. I thought Big was terrible and I couldn’t understand why Carrie loved Big. It was hard for me to see that Big loved Carrie at all. I was like all of Carrie’s girlfriends, mostly Miranda because she was the one who saw the least redeeming value in Big. It wasn’t until the movie, did I truly get it and understand. I think I rooted for Aidan so hard because he reminded me of Jorge. Just make Aidan Colombian and give him the Latino temper and there he is. The love Aidan showed for Carrie was what Jorge showed for me. Aidan didn’t last, neither did Jorge and I.

Sometimes I think one and done. As if you only ever have that one true and crazy connection in your life and those who come after, if it doesn’t last, are never going to be what was. Never is anything really what was and a lot of people believe that each romantic love you experience is different. I’ve had different. I didn’t like them. I don’t really eat ice cream, but work with me here. It’s like if your most cherished relationship was a flavor of ice cream and for some reason, though you’ve had it for a while, they are discontinuing it. You can never have that flavor ice cream again. So what do you do? You try a couple different flavors and they don’t add up. You feel like you’re settling. So you get an ice cream maker. You buy the ingredients to make your favorite flavor, but it will never taste like the original and you have to be satisfied with that.

I don’t want to be satisfied. I don’t want to settle for any less of a relationship than what I want. I want to be crazy in love. I want to love as hard as we fight. I want to always feel like I am falling. I want reality. Fights on the air conditioning temperature, spending, bills, to have kids or move or whose family are we going to for the holidays or if we want to see our respective families at all. I want to lose all inhibitions with that person, while completely sober. I want it all. I want it all because I have once had it. And I am not going to give up until I find better. I’d be better off alone than to settle. I’m not the settling type.

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Post inspired by today’s The Daily Post’s Daily Prompt.

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