Nothing In My Life is Happening

Please excuse the poor grammar in the title. For those who haven't been reading my blog so far (which is just about everybody...), I don't use very good grammar while I blog. Most times I don't use grammar correctly for the sake of getting how I feel across, giving the reader a chance to step into my mind and hear how unfunctional I speak in my head. I don't make sense in many ways. Other times, I promise I read the line over and over again and can't think of a better way to word it. I'm not a high school drop out, I promise.

Thanks for reading my disclaimer. Let's move on.

I have basically been a sitting duck for almost a year. December 2013 I dropped out of college. I didn't think that was what I was doing but that is what I ended up doing. I was supposed to get my transcripts sent to some colleges back home, which is where I fled, so I could continue my education there. What I actually did was left college and proceeded to sit on my ass... with flair! I got two jobs, made a whole lot of money, moved out of my parents house, spent a whole lot of money, turned 21, got drunk, got a boyfriend, got fired, got a dog... all that I have in my posession and none of this is going to better my future... except maybe my boyfriend if I actually start to act on his advise. The guy's a genius, I swear.

But nothing is happening. Half of my monthly pay goes to rent. The other half goes to food, gas, and other junk so it's not like I'm SAVING any money or anything. My goal when I got back here from school was to buy a house. That's not gonna happen. I'm a smart person, I should be in college, but the more I'm not in college, the more I'm not sure what I wanna do. I mean, I know I want to make a difference in a significant amount of people's lives but what career path is that? I am [was] a psychology major. I wanted to counsel but I wasn't sure for what. After working in an ER I wanted to specialize in treating schizophrenia and other disorders in the sections schizophrenia is in (It's been so long I can't remember if that's a schizoid disorder or a psychotic disorder...). After working in an ER even longer, I am pretty sure that is not what I want to do anymore. Now I'm just... clueless. Lazy and clueless.

I have the idea that if I just go back to school and expose myself to that education again, I'll get my passion for it back up and I could better determine what it is that I actually want to do, but I like... Don't want to do it.

What kind of erks [or urks? whatever] me is the fact that people get careers without even attending college, like bro! How the heck do you do that!? That's what I need, just make my own little career and professional category. Like a Professional Certified Day Brightener or something! Paid the big bucks!! But... hey, the world's not a perfect one.

Chronic Laziness

All this newfound time I have acquired means to me that there is more hours to sleep, can I get an Amen?!

More responsible people often ask me "You have so much time on your hands now, how are you not doing anything productive?!" It's because bed though, soo.... yah.

Matter of fact! I want to go to sleep RIGHT NOW!! Who needs productivity when I could just dream I was doing the stuff without using the energy to do so? Or even better, when I could just dream I was doing stuff while gaining more energy for the rest of my day.... that I would just end up using for MORE sleep...

It's a shame, really, how much time I'm using to do absolutely nothing. My house was pretty junky, then I got a puppy whose favorite thing to put in her mouth is the junk around the house so now my house is an absolute mess. The floor is covered in shredded toilet paper and massacred plastic hanger bits. Oh and she keeps getting into the bird seed (which I am unable to find) and pooping all over the house; that's about the only thing I clean up.

My laziness is getting too real and I can't seem to muster up the inspiration to change it. I don't want to go to school because I seemed to have lost my way in what I think I want to do. I don't want to get a second job because of previous difficulties with it. Cleaning my house just seems to become more and daunting as the days go by.... I can't go out because I'm just too expensive for myself. Like... where is my motivation?! I'm growing up to become this sedentary stagnant lady, and I'm starting to hate her... lazily.

Shoot, I'm too lazy to even think of the point of this blog so... yeah I guess that's all I've got to say for now. *shrug*

.... Somebody help me.

I was Cindi Mayweather for Halloween

Here are some pictures. I'll let the story be told underneath them for those who don't like reading. (Don't worry, I don't particularly like reading either, so I won't be offended nor am I making a "you're not intelligent" jab.)

These are some photos that inspired the costume and expressions

I genuinely thought it was gonna be the night that rocked my world!

 And it ended like this.

I went as the Archandroid, Cindi Mayweather, an Alpha Platinum 9000 who saves the world from it's own destruction. I didn't deliver as that character at all that night.

That night I swore to myself I would never drink again. 

I got so drunk that I couldn't even throw up 

I got so drunk that I regretted everything I had ever done that involved alcohol ever

I got so drunk that I began to despise whoever invented the ETOH substance. 

I just became so not about everything that was happening... unless it involved twerking. I was down to twerk! But at an EDM festival... Not very fitting. Needless to say, EDM festivals? Not my element.

We went to the club because a guy said we should ditch the festival and go to a club. This is where I twerked. Clubs? My element.

After 20 minutes he was ready to go back to the hotel so I summoned the cab. 

After 2 minutes in the cab, he was wondering why we weren't at the club :/

We got to the hotel and this is where I attempted to throw up and couldn't so I just went number two instead. 

After 5 minutes on the toilet he was ready to go back out to the club or SOMETHING. 

He was banging on my door saying something like "Acacia! Me and you are going back out! It is too early to be in a hotel, we need to have more fun! You're like the coolest one here! We have to go back out! You have twenty minutes to get off of that toilet and be ready to go!!!!"

And I relied something like "Mehehhhhhehhehehhhhhhh :[" I didn't want to stand up ever again. 

I tried to squeeze out anything that would go through either end until he forgot he wanted to go out. He did after 10 minutes and so I washed my hands and made my move to the bed. [That's where I took that last picture] and then I went to sleep!

I woke up the next morning [bed arrangements were my two good buds in the bed, me and this guy in the couchbed] at about six to find two guys laying to my left. Had no idea where this guy came from. 

The End.

[And yes, I'm sure I wasn't raped.]

Love is a Gamble

[This is a late post... Sorry guys.]

Well. Time came before I had prepared it to, as usual... and I had to watch him leave two months before he was supposed to and suddenly... it felt like my life was walking away. As much as I hate to admit things like that these days, it really felt like a good chunk of me was missing after he was gone. 

What's beautiful is that he was a risk that I took. I'm a feeler. I like to feel things, it lets me know that I'm alive. I took the risk of loving him while knowing good and well what would come in the future. He was leaving regardless but, I was loving him regardless. I wanted to feel how he could make me feel; I felt that feeling could have been worth the feeling of emptiness I'd feel in the end. And let me tell you, it was. :] 

I thoroughly believe you cannot have joy without pain. Joy is the pleasure and pain cycle. There were a couple of sacrifices that needed to be made in order for me to feel what I felt. It was as though I was walking a plank blind to what was below. I knew it would be an ocean because I was told that that was what I was jumping into but really... :] Really, I jumped into the sky... 

Let me explain, metaphorically. It was as though I expected the crash of the waves when really I was not jumping to my death at all, I was jumping into at least a little more future. I did expect to die, to hurt, just for the pleasure of the fall. I sacrificed my sight. I didn't know what kind of fall it would be. Would I trip, fall, hit the plank with my belly, then roll off? Would I hit my head on the way down? I had no idea, but I tied my bandanna around my eyes walked and jumped anyways, just to feel what the fall felt like even though I expected a cold and salty demise. But what's beautiful... is that... I'm flying now (or falling from the sky, I don't know. I can't see anything.). I'm not in at all in any type of murky water. What I had been starving for has been elongated, extended, and I'm just loving the fall. 

I've learned early that love is indeed a gamble, but this time (so far) it seems I'm coming out on top :]

Time for an update?

Meh. It's been about a month plus since my last blog. I'm solely inspired by boredom right now and that's unfortunate, but an update is way overdue. For some reason I'm using this website more and more as a diary and I know that because I want this format to be in chronological order catching you, the reader, up on what's been going on in my life. What's worse is that that is basically the format of my whole blog. But I wouldn't read my own post if it went that way, so I'm not gonna do it like that, and I'll try to keep it interesting with whatever style my fingers decide to type today... What to write, what to write...

SKIP TO HERE IF YOU DON'T HAVE TIME FOR RAMBLING!!!

I tend to make things a big deal...

Like everything that shouldn't be a big deal is a huge deal to me. Being late to work is an okay sized deal to everyone else, but to me it's HUGE DEAL!!! It reflects my character, my being as a person! To others, they're just late and they won't be late again... they think... Me, I dwell on it at least for a couple of days, because it does come back and bite you in the butt... the more it occurs.

I'm black. My race, we are subject to many stereotypes (as every race is). One of those stereotypes: poor time management. Me? I'm punctual as fuck. I was trained that way in early high school! As a requirement in my show choir, we had to be anywhere we needed to be at least fifteen minutes early or else we were late. It was an expectation that turned into a habit. No matter where I needed to be, I was there at LEAST fifteen minutes before the start time.

I made the mistake of going to an HBCU for my post high school education. That's where I learned that if you were early to anything, you were an idiot because you wouldn't be joined at the venue by your fellow peers for another hour fifteen. (I'm exaggerating, but black folks there generally fit the poor time management stereotype stiletto perfectly, I'm talkin a Cinderella match up in this bit...) Two and a half years there, before I return home, and my punctuality became run on sentences that couldn't get anywhere on time. I was late to more things than I had ever been in my life.

I had two jobs and about two hours of sleep on the days I worked both jobs (up to three days a week). I had one job working graveyard and then a regular day job. My night job was my primary and the job I enjoyed going to more (I love both of them, I'm just a person that shamelessly picks favorites) was about a forty minute commute from my apartment as well as the primary job. I was putting in 40 hours for both jobs. 160 hours a month. And I was doing fine, simply because I'd get off one job and head out to the other job right after, take a good little thirty minute nap in the car, and be up for the next shift. Trouble started the most when I was switched from early shift to late shift. Instead of coming into my second job at 7:30 I was coming in at 9:30. Sounds like a blessing right? I thought the same thing at first.

Instead of being able to enjoy the new hour and a half of sleep I could get, I would enjoy a new two hours, or 4 hours of sleep and be later to work than 8 months. (it's a pregnancy joke.) It put me in a really uncomfortable position because I'm not used to being late to any thing ESPECIALLY a place of employment where they are PAYING ME to be there. It made me really sad and distressed and I would stress the more I thought about how I was going to get to work on time (every weekday.).

One day, I was given my last-shot-to-get-it-right-because-we-really-like-you warning. Another day, I woke up in bed twenty minutes before my shift started. Remember I told you it takes FORTY minutes to get there? Yeah. I wasn't gonna make it. And I didn't. I dreaded every minute of the drive over there and died more and more with every minute after I was supposed to be there. It was over. And I was fired. And my heart was broken. I did it to myself. I expanded myself way to much. I didn't quit while I was ahead. I bit off wayyyy more than I could chew. The job was only supposed to last the summer, but they asked if I would stay and I said "Of course!" I loved it there! Why would I trade this experience with a normal life and sleep? The connections I made there were priceless and the company showed their appreciation for me and I did the same back to them; it was nothing but love. But!! Too much of a good won't be good forever...

So there, an update on yet another lesson learned in the life of a leo. Go far, enjoy life, but only if you're not killing yourself for it.

Different.

Different.

Have you ever sat back and watched people react to something different?

Like the first time I tried Indian food. I was maybe 7 years old and it was so different from anything I had ever tasted and I didn't like it all. I still don't.

As an adult and a self proclaimed human analyzer, I sit back sometimes and watch things happen. Lately I've been watching situations where a stable, covalent group of people are met with an individual who is not like them. In some cases I see people embrace the differences within that person sometimes even praising that person for their differences. Most times, however, the group typically separates themselves from that person. I remember reading about the law of attraction in my Cultural Diversity textbook. The theory states that people are attracted to people like them and they will most likely shun those who are not.

It's unfortunate that [theoretically] human nature works that way. From what I've learned in my studies is that we (human beings) naturally discriminate/are prejudice against one another. There is so much potential in people; even though one may not look like you, speak like you, comprehend the way you do, learn like you, walk like you, you like you, they may have the ability to benefit the group, your life, the situation drastically, if you just give them the chance to be them without interruption. Without the cold shoulder, the glares, the negative comments, the GOSSIP!!! the like...

I am currently witnessing a lady that is being discriminated against for not having the same style of thinking and learning as everybody else. People almost immediately got annoyed and impatient and now they are seeming to team up with one another to get her gone. I get along with the lady just fine; literally, the only thing that is the problem is that she does not learn with the method the group is using to teach. All we have to do is adjust to her learning style and she's got the processes in the BAG! The group would have her do all the extra special strenuous work (even though they show that they don't believe she has the brain capacity to complete the task correctly) and by maybe four occurrences, she had the process down because one person decided to teach her the way she should be taught. Treat her the way she should be treated.

The amount of people that talk about this person behind her back is ridiculous. A situation this morning, even, brought something else to my attention. Something that I learned very early in life (Like early school, 5 or 6 years old) that I had forgotten because... I myself seemed to fall into the category, or culture, per say. People will do what everyone else will do. And [don't you knock my grammar] what I mean by that is this; People crave the feeling of feeling important and unfortunately, this is a thirst that is hardly ever quenched. When one is accepted in a group, a bit of that craving is fulfilled and since we want so much to be accepted, we will continue to do what is acceptable. "When in Rome..." Try this at home. Next time you are at work make a situation where you have an idea. Have a buddy in on the test say that "Well that's a stupid idea" or the like and observe how the rest of the team reacts. Do the same for the opposite response ("Wow, that could really work." or "That's a good idea.") and observe how the team reacts to that as well. Unfortunately, because of this longing for acceptance, most humans are not very good at being true individuals.

Because that coded want to be important exists alongside the code of people wanting only for themselves as well as the code of not accepting others' difference, it causes indefinite separation in the community which is only counterproductive for the whole. Can we make it a goal to speak to or bond with somebody we never thought we would know? To share ideas with somebody you think is "crazy"?

If we all committed effort to build a relationship with just one person we would typically never talk to, we could learn a worlds worth of knowledge.

Let's try that.

My Thoughts Immediately: Girl Bye.

This is an impulsive blog post. I haven't calmed myself down or had a rational thought session just yet. This is purely emotional and it won't be a long post. It will be vague though.

A lady walks in with a man. After politely being offered [by me] for assistance, She impolitely, quite rudely actually, declined.

Ugh. Turn down.

She immediately takes the offer that I gave her as if she knew what the f__k she was doing when she walked in this bit. Got what she needed to get where she was goin... And I don't know what made her say this but as one of the staff asked her who she was she says
 "Oh, I'm his girlfriend. We've been together for ten years! :D"

I'm just like....

Fa real? You're grinning and you've been with a man that after ten years won't put a ring on it? (and by ring, I don't mean the material ring I mean "get married to you" "declare officially that you two are committed partners" the like.)
I see why you're so rude, but I don't see why you're smiling. You're in the process of being bamboozled.

But giiiiiirl, be proud of yo man!!! #imbeingcompletelysarcasticthough

Girl Bye.

People: Why does it have to be all about "me"?

The third principle in How To Win Friends And Influence People elaborates the fact that people are only concerned about themselves and what they want. If you want to influence people, you must bring out a want within them to do what you are influencing them to do. To do that, you must know how to see from their point of view as well as your own. That's all I'm going to mention about the book because this blog is not a book review post.

I'm contemplating on whether or not I should share the exact situation or just a very vague gist...

Very Vague Gist:

So I'm the type of person that likes to help people. When it comes to being part of a group that shares a common goal, I like to have it so we all, as a group, succeed together! You know, Ubuntu and shit. So like. When I run into a conflict where the group is not on one accord, I like to think of solutions. Chaos does not bring organization in any form. Not even if it's organized chaos. Because your organization... is chaotic. I digress.

In every "organized" group, no matter how accidental it is, barely implied it is, or just kind of apparent it is, there is a group leader, or set of group leaders. I am one who likes to be in this position. I like to lead, it's what I was born, raised, and trained to do. Unfortunately, I am not considered as one in this position, so when I was confronted by chaos, I approached the group leaders with a request for help in producing a possible solution that would help the group be on one accord, be more productive, and move more smoothly toward our goal. I did so in a non-threatening manner, just asking for a bit of help, suggesting that maybe if they needed anything from me to help them help me to ask me and I would definitely be willing to do so.

After approaching these leaders, one of the leaders spoke to me as if I was the one that was confused. As if I were the root of the problem. As if I had come incorrect [And I'm altering the slang phrase "come correct" here; synonymous to slang terms like "stay in your lane" and "you betta recognize" which basically means to know your place in status in a certain situation. I apparently wasn't demonstrating my knowing of my place, recognizing, or the lane I was supposed to be staying in]. She answered my question but... she only told me the solution to the problem. But I was not the only one suffering.

I can't help everybody in the group with the information you gave me. I can only reach the people that I see from time to time. I knew you had the answer. I knew you had the power to reach everybody in the group. That's why I suggested a solution that would help the group not me.

Then I asked somebody near and dear to me. Why would the leader decide not to help their people?

What I got from the discussion we had (and perception screws with reality, so what my interpretation is may not be the message this person tried to give to me) was that this leader saw me as a threat. Making moves to help the people as a leader should, the leader had to extinguish my fire of potential advancement. I was showing evidence of being a good leader maybe in the future and that is that person's reputation. That's what that person is supposed to be seen as. And obviously this time she wasn't because the group came to me, not that person, for their concerns.

My question is; why must one only think of him/herself, especially in a group that shares a common goal. A theory that I have is that when a person in a group becomes a leader, they think less and less about the group and more about themselves and their position especially when that position needs protecting. Why can't we step back and look at the group as a whole and see how that is doing?! A group leader that works for the good of a group produces a good team that steadily moves toward their goal and that team looks darn good. Guess who the head of that team is? The team leader! The leader of a darn good lookin' team looks pretty fantastic. But NO! This group leader decides to look at his/herself and has a team that looks like blundering idiots and refuses to do anything about it. And when a group member suggests a solution, he/she shoots it down, for WHAT?! YOUR position?! BAH! It makes me sick.

We need to remember that we cannot do anything by ourselves. From birth to the day we die we need somebody to help in multiple points in time. Unity. Unity is what we all need. As a group, as a neighborhood, as a region, as a nation, as a world. Let's not have selfishness blind us and lead us to the path of stupidity. Let's not just think about ourselves.

But really, how many people would actually take that advice?

Things I think about people I hate

This'll be a quick one.

I only "hate" (and I don't really hate her, but she's the closest thing to it) one person. And I hate her because I'm jealous.

I'm such a hater. If I would be completely honest, I'd say that she is a beautiful, talented individual, and I totally see why errybody and dey mama loves this woman. She's got everything going for her and I have every reason to be happy for her. But I'm not. Cuz I hate her. Cuz I'm jealous.

She seems to be the only one from high school that kept her "peak." You know, I've watched a lot of "popular" people from high school graduate and immediately get obnoxiously fat, married way too early (and I'm judging here), have kids, the like. High School was their lives and then when they made their way out, it was gone. But her, she graduated, got engaged, and is still just doin her thug thizzle. Living her life, while I lurk in the facebook shadows. Stalking. Waiting for it to all go downhill. :/

[I wasn't popular until college. And I dropped out. So my peak was very short lived...]

I swear she keeps her facebook off of private just for me and all her other haters. I think I'm the most obsessed. It's like there's a biological clock that tells me "Heeeeyyyy!! You haven't checked on ol' girl in a while! Maybe her life has finally gone to shit!" But every time I check, without fail, she's doing even better than she was the last time I checked.

And as I scroll through her pics and oh so hilarious posts I think;

Sheesh! Hurry up and get fat already!!

I hope he cheats on you...

Why are you always so damn happy?!

Where is this personal catastrophe that is waaaaaay overdue?!

Geez, can we just like.... switch lives or something?!

How is it that that many people liking your posts?

Of course you're happy with the way high school went for you...

Ugggggghhhh just stop being so... everything already... :/

The list could go on.




But I seriously can't wait till she gets fat.

How to Win: "Don't criticize them; they are just what we would be under similar circumstances"

Lincoln's quote [in the title] is basically a bottom line for the first principle

Don't criticize, condemn, or complain.

This chapter speaks about understanding and taking into consideration why people do the things they do. The author used an example that really stuck out to me by using the short reading piece called Father Forgets [here's a link]. In the selection a father is talking to his son about how he (dad) had been applying the expectations of his own life (dad's life) onto his life (the child's life... geez, I can't English) and had been treating him unfairly for it. He would deny him attention and act nastily toward him for not being the gentleman he wanted to raise... at 4 years old. This was not fair because a young boy would not know to hold his shoulders back and be a man just yet and Daddy realized that, apologized, and accepted his son the way he was. 

What I get from just that excerpt is that people often look at what other people do in a view of their own circumstances causing them to have an invalid way of thinking about what "should" have been done. For example, your buddy Joe is walking toward the girl of his dreams and on the way over, he trips and falls on what seems like nothing. You see a little while after the fall that there is a small curb that he might have tripped on, and it looks like he would have been able to see it because if you were as close as he was to it you would have seen it. You come to the conclusion that he tripped on the curb, but really, Joe's shoelaces are a bit long and although tied, he still managed to step on them as he walked over. But you wouldn't know that, because you're too busy thinking about how dumb Joe was to not pick his feet up over the curb that he didn't trip on. 

I learned exactly why it's not ideal to criticize someone; that would be because (and I'm quoting the chapter, using the words the author used, just in a different order and more condensed) people are emotional beings who have prejudices and are motivated by pride and vanity. They won't blame themselves for anything they do (typically) and criticizing them for something they do/their action/reaction (which involves their environment, their perception, thinking, and deciding) will only push them to become defensive, defend themselves for their action, and will also brew a new resentment which tarnishes the relationship between you and that person.

Arousing resentment is the most important. If somebody doesn't like you, they won't respect you, and you won't be able to influence them effectively. If you must try to modify someone's behavior, do so in a positive manner, do it in a pleasant tone rather than an authoritative one and praise those who perform the task you want while not acknowledging those who do the opposite. 

Here are some quotes that I found significant in the chapter:

"As much as we thirst for approval, we dread condemnation." - Hans Selye

"Don't criticize them; they are just what we would be under similar circumstances." - Abraham Lincoln

"Don't complain about the snow on your neighbor's roof when your own door step is uncleared" - Confucius

"I will speak ill of no man and speak all the good I know of everybody" - Benjamin Franklin

"A great man shows his greatness by the way he treats little men" - Carlyle 

Bottom Line: Instead of criticizing and condemning people, let's try to understand why they do the things they do. It breeds sympathy, tolerance, and kindness

I will keep a log reflecting how well I did at this principle at the end of the week.

Riddle Me This: Fat Pockets

I have been wondering about this for years. 

I just read a chapter of a book that told me not to criticize, condemn, or complain... but I'll start on that diet tomorrow. I need to get this off of my chest. 

What

On Earth

Is SOOOO wonderful

About ass and titties?! Booty and boobs?!

They are literally just pockets of fat, sometimes enormous amounts of fat, on a woman's body?

Is it special because the man doesn't have any of that? Cuz they like vagina too and that's an oven for babies. A wet oven used to bake babies. [But I do understand the instinctual reasons why males (most males) like vagina]

But like what is so attractive about the massive amounts of FAT in a woman's behind and chest area?! IT'S FAT!!! Like, women and muscle, I understand, that's physical fitness I guess? I don't care much for it... but like ...

If we had massive amounts of fat in our face cheeks instead of our butt cheeks would that be thing? Or like if our love handles were just extra chunky but boobs weren't a thing?

How come it's not sexy when a woman has massive amounts of fat in their guts!?

I'm just saying, I don't get it.

Please, riddle me this.

Mission Self-Betterment: How to Win Friends and Influence People by Dale Carnegie

So. Lately I have been unhappy about the way that... I don't get my way. It's not even like I'm trying to take advantage of people, I'm seriously just trying to help... I'm just not persuading or appealing enough to make people think that what I have to say is important enough to act on.

As a younger person, I was a natural leader. I don't think much has changed about me since then, I honestly think it's the way people become more confident in themselves and their own decisions as they grow. I don't know... maybe I did change. Maybe I became arrogant. Maybe I became a brat. Regardless. I want to be a better leader. I have good intentions in that I don't like to force people to do what they don't need to do. This makes me a horrible saleswoman and an awful scam artist. Mary Kay was not my thing.

"Yeah, so I really like this lip stick. The color really pops and it last for like, ever. It's just $18... for each tube...."

"O__O"

"Yeah, never mind. That's expensive as fuck."

Didn't go too well. I wouldn't spend that much for... dinner. or something. That's way too much money!!!

I don't commit to suggesting things that I know aren't important, but when something is important I commit. Hard. And do my best to get my point across, and then... They do the opposite of what I suggested. And that, my friends, I do not dig.

I picked up a book called How to Win Friends and Influence People by Dale Carnegie and I really enjoy the style of the writing. He breaks the ideas down into principles, granted, I only got to the end of the second principle, but so far I'm diggin' the layout and I've learned two principles already! :D

What I plan to do with this page is document my winning-friends-and-influencing-people journey and also, finish a book for the first time since seventh grade... :/

SO! Hopefully this Blogger can support the way I plan to carry out this blog.

Sleeeeeeep: The Night Shift

I believe that there are aliens that roam the earth. I also believe that I have been mistaken for one of them. "Why?" you might ask.
"Because," I would say. "It is simply not human to be awake and productive any later than 3 in the morning."
But I do it for the money.
Shift Differential is a beautiful thing
Oh the sacrifices.

I was so excited to be 20 years old working the same position that my mother had left not too long ago. From what I knew I was 20 years old with a career! I loved what I was doing and how I influenced my coworkers (and vice versa). I loved the people and how new everything was to me. I was working in a hospital with people who had kids, grand kids, and Medicare! I was way ahead of the game.

Within a month of working as an on-call employee I was offered a FULL TIME POSITION. The 7:30 PM to the 6:00 AM shift. With my adrenalin constantly at an all time HIGH I said calmly with a pleasant smile, "Yes I would love to take this position," as the inner me bounced around my inner abdominal walls. I was too grown. #independentwomanrighthereson #getlikeme #boybyenotwiththemshoeson #etcetera...

People were amazed by the way I could stay energized all ten hours, especially the hours between 1 and 6 in the morning (you know, the whole latter half of the shift). I looked around and saw co-workers barely making it to the end chanting monotonously "sleeeeeeeep..... sleeeeeeeeeeep........." They looked as if they were trying to climb out of hell, and they never made it even when they left for the day because in 13 and a half hours they would be right back here to die a bit more inside all over again. 13 hours? That's plenty of time to sleep! Why not do that?

Probably because they have lives. Then I got one too.

And by life I mean... a second job. I bet you could guess what comes next! I have a day job and a night job and I finally see what all the dying is about. Nope!

I left every shift just as unscathed as I would leave before I was working 18 hour days sometimes for 3 days straight (that's 5 shifts) and people looked at me like I was NUTS!!

A little over a month after I got the second job, I started developing health complications. I don't know what it was exactly but one day I just started vomiting every liquid I had in my digestive system. It got so bad that after my intestines were clear, I started to vomit bile I guess because that was all that was left. I got sick on my shift at the hospital so I easily got admitted there. After running some tests, the Doc told me that it was Colitis, but I learned later never to trust this hospital's diagnoses...

I was out for a couple days and I came back with a vengeance, even stronger than before! In your FACE, Sick, eat my grits. And it did. I got more crazy looks and I'm sure at least 5 people dragging themselves about the linoleum struggling to make it to the end of their 10-hour shifts strained to lift their heads and look up at me asked "What are you?" I'm pretty sure that now they KNEW I was an alien. I was not from this sane place called Earth. There's no way I could be functioning right now. That's when I looked at the zombie that they had become... looked up and off into the distance... pulled my Locs (these are Locs, the glasses)

out of the black leather jacket that I wasn't wearing before which was by now blowing in the wind that also wasn't there before (blowing from where? I'm not entirely sure)... slid the glasses onto my face as the music intensified... nodded my head as the music climaxed to a halt and said "I'm Acacia, of course," then came the guitar solo as I stepped on the zombie's back and out and out the automatic ambulance bay door toward my car in slow motion.

About a month after that epicness, I got sick again! Once again at work. So once again I got admitted. Once again they ran tests and once again I got a diagnosis. "Hmm.. According to your CT scan... It looks like you have an inflamed gallbladder."
"Ok..." I said.
"You may want to have it removed. There definitely are no gallstones in it, but it is unusually large. Here's a good surgeon, just call that guy and, yeh know. Take it out."
"O_o Nah." I took my prescription and went on my merry little way.

Let's fast forward through this next part to get to the point of this story.

Couple days after my diagnosis I started having more pain, I went to my regular hospital's ER, they tell me I have a TY Beanie Baby where my gallbladder should be, I get the operation there to have it taken out, I recover in 4 days, doc tells me "No, you can't go back to work until two weeks after the surgery date," I return to my second job the Monday after my check up anyway, and THEN I go back to my initial job two weeks after the surgery date. 

At the hospital (my initial job) I have to push my workstation around and that is absolutely FORBIDDEN after getting a gallbladder taken out. You can't do strength workouts or anything of the sort (can't lift, push, pull, or move an object weighing more than 20 lbs) so when I went back to work... I had to stay at front desk. For ten hours.

First day back, I'm excited to see everybody. They're excited to see me. I get to the front desk and I knock EVERYTHING out! LIKE A BAWSS!! Until... 

Midnight struck. 

I could feel 

My posture sink...

My skin rotting off of my bones... 

My teeth falling out of my mouth...

My eyes pop out of my head...

I started to nod involuntarily

Hallucinate

Talk about my hallucinations with the nurse tech...

It was AWEFUL

I was... 

One of them.

"Sleeeeeeeeeeep....." at first it was a whisper. 
"sleeeeeeeeeeeep." then it was a statement.
"SLEEEEEEEEEEEEP!!!!" Then a declarative command!
"Sleeheeheeheeheeeeep....!!!" Then finally a sobbing longing.

I now knew what it was like to be... a zombie. 
"What have I DONE?!" I asked myself internally "Who would DO such a thing to themselves?!"
but really I had found myself on the linoleum with the rest of them, only saying
"SLEEEEEEEEEEEP!!!!"

Letter to my Doppelganger

Hello Doppelganger,

It has come to my attention that you happen to look a lot like me. It has been stirring my closest peers up with confusion and excitement. And by closest peers I mean my clique, really, whom I still do claim. Yes, even from 2,758 miles away.

Let's get straight to the point. I feel that you have, without effort at all, inherited all of my fame in my home turf. I do not have the experiences that I had there where I am now. I'm sort of living my nonexistent college life through the contact of the people I was closest to there and you have filled shoes that were meant to be unfilled. Not only unfilled, but mourned over due to the loss of a great presence. But now, you've got them on and you're walking all up and down campus in them. :/

I do not appreciate it. This is unacceptable.

I would, however, appreciate if you looked like me some place else because I'm not one to be replaced, plus you've got a lot of shoe to fill so you would be doing yourself a favor as well. How bout it? Win-Win. Or, you could continue to look like me and just not be good at anything I am good at. If you happen to know how to sing, dance, play piano, ukulele, and guitar, write poetry/song lyrics, or happen to get along with any of the three young men whom I share very close friendships with, I am sorry, but I am coming for you. I must protect the impression I had in that environment. You would definitely have to go.

If you choose to comply with my request, good for you. Thank you.
If not, prepare to be annihilated.

Much love, girl!
-Acacia C.

Eros: I Like the High

Eros, for those of you who don’t know, is one of four types of love, the others being Agape, an unconditional love, Phileo, a friendship like love, and Storge, a family like love. Eros, I feel, is the most exciting. Eros is the young, fiery, emotional, epic, lustful, stupid, exhilarating love. I’ve been there many, many, times. It’s like my favorite emotional vacation spot or something, I don’t know.

I didn’t know Eros was a drug until I experience the crash of my lifetime. Extremely long story bland and short; I fell in love with a boy who cheated on me. That statement is a logical one. If I can only put into words how much in love I was with this man. I would do… Did do anything for him. I put him before all. Ruined relationships that could have helped me be stress free and happy in the long run. I would have been his cash cow. If I would have had the opportunity to make it in the music business, I would have said “Take him first! I can’t go without him. I know he’d get me a way in anyhow.” It was so serious, on my end, that is. Meanwhile, he was harboring the guilt of infidelity and he didn't say a word about it for a year and a half which is a substantial amount of time in my short little life. It was my longest relationship… and it was a lie.


I didn't want to love again, in any form. I didn't want to feel that crash ever. Again. The crash was a prolonged state of depression. It was easy to perform this task since, after he left me with the apartment with someone I didn't even really like (my roommate), I could easily just be a hermit in my bedroom only leaving to get another 5 frozen bottles of water and a bowl of ramen. I didn't go to class. I didn’t talk to people. I forgot what the sun was. All I wanted was the dark. The light was a lie. I hated him. The love was a lie. I wanted to die. The life I had envisioned to have with him… was a lie. Nothing he said was true to me anymore. Anything he said to me, I would believe the opposite. “I’m sorry” was “I meant it.” “You don’t deserve this” was “You walked into this.” “I still love you” was “I never loved you.” We were both writers, poets, lyricists, what have you, and all I could do besides cry was write. I wrote depressing poems, diss poems, bashing poems, put yo ass on blast poems, and a whole music album. 12 tracks. And he… he wrote nothing. Which made me even more depressed because, after all this time together, you NEVER think of me?

Time was the only thing that healed that emotional wound. There was nothing I could do about it but bide and let it all ride.

After healing a bit, the addict in me used to want to go back. Do it all again. Just to feel that high! The way it was before I knew anything was wrong. The cuddling, and the random trips to random places, the laughs, the moments I could never ever forget, the kisses that brought biological fireworks… All of that.

And today, now that I am able to, I just get as much of Eros as I can get. The problem is, it’s never as satisfying as the first hit I had. That first Eros is pure and new and after the hurt of the crash, I kind of go into every match session anticipating the pain in the end. But today, I accept my fate. To risk loving though it may break my bones. To risk loving though I may become a hermit again, may not want to see the sun. To risk loving because of how it drips of our lips and tingles the tongue. To risk loving for the euphoric feeling in my abdomen that crescendos whenever I even see his name. The Eros overdose that causes me to regurgitate “I love you”s raining through my mind, my heart, and my mouth. But I have felt the crash, and I am anticipating it.


I’m telling the one I’m sharing this Eros with to be patient with me, as I attempt let go of the fear of the oh so apparent crash that awaits me and love you with all that I have.




See you soon.

Some Type of Way: One of Many Phrases I Let Ruin My Vocabulary

Well here it goes everybody. I'm about to blame a simple phrase for ruining a good part of my life.
I used to always know exactly how I felt, until... I moved to Georgia for college and undid most of my vocabularic conditioning.
See? Vocabularic isn't even a word.

When I first arrived to my college campus, I felt as though I had landed in Japan. I took two years of Japanese in High School and knew basic phrases and said "desu" after every statement and "desuka" after every question. Straight FOB is exactly how I felt.
My "own" language became foreign.

"Aye shawt-- Whetchyonaimeeuh?"
"Excuse me, sir?"

I couldn't understand 98% of the population. My best friend. Would not, under comfortable circumstances, even pronounce the name of Georgia's state capital "Uhlahnuh." That same friend helped me adapt to the town's lingo since his southern accent was SO strong. (And real talk, I truly appreciate him for it. I never would have thought that I would be able to speak with even a hint of southern drawl) But one of the phrases he used most was, " That made me feel some type of way"

I'll tell you later in this blog the evolution of my use of this phrase, but for now I'll just let you know that I began using it and could not stop! It became so comfortable, so easy. So easy that now I just expect for people to know what I feel without saying it, to know what I mean without expressing it in words. And I will tell you. It's not getting me far in my environment now at all [I work at an insurance company and a hospital. I get sideways looks when I try to explain myself with words all the time because, frankly... I forgot how to, and I'm failing at faking it... miserably]. I don't know names of objects anymore, I don't explain processes well, I can't recall exactly what happened in a series. I'm not blaming "Feel some type of way" for all of that directly, but I can tell you it started the path of limiting my verbal expression. And now I look like an idiot.

At first after hearing the phrase, I would say in a frustrated tone,
"WELL WHAT TYPE OF WAY DO YOU FEEL?!"
But after a while, somehow, some MIRACULOUS way.... After a while, I knew EXACTLY what type of way... he felt, as well as anybody else who used the phrase. And then I started using the phrase.
Language became a feeling. Even less spoken, yet more felt than body language, it was like we were speaking sounds out of our mouths that were completely irrelevant but we communicated through the hormones our body perspired. I have got to admit; it felt excellent knowing that I was understood without saying anything. Our lack of vocabulary created a bond in our community that... people outside  of it couldn't understand. I didn't. Couldn't feel. I didn't.

And though it is comfortable, a pro, it could either be detrimental in the fact that this could probably be the reason we in that community could stay buried in the comfort of our culture's cave, failing to move forward or a bond, an understanding such as this could prove to be a righteous feature in that we can come together as a community and move forward as one. That's different conversation though.

I like stupid things... "What" Edition.

As of... I want to say four days ago I have a new found "gotta have a dose of this, at least a little every day." It makes me realize that speech is really intriguing to me. For example the way there are at least 20 dialects of the English language; I'm just so fascinated by the way people say things. I think travelling the world had something to do with that.

My point today, my purpose, my intention today is to write about how crazy I am about the way California rapper, Problem, says the word... "What."
What?
Yes. 
"What"

I can't even say that I don't know what it is about it (which is what I would usually say about something of this sort...) because I know EXACTLY what it is about this "What" that makes me lose my mind. 

You see, I say "What" like "Wuht." Problem says "What" like "Whaaaaaahht?!" And there's always a question mark exclamation point combination at the end. It's a little like the Aflac duck's quack with a bit of a roundess to it...

It's how extremely spread out his A vowel sound is. And it's the short A sound but he says it sooooo long and wiiiiide!! ... ;] (See what I did there?)

I'm surprised it doesn't annoy my face off because being a professionally trained vocalist, a spread vowel sound is an unforgivable sin. Whenever I heard such a horrifying sound, I would sign the name of the one or many that committed the crime in my mental death note and imagine them just drop. Dead. But this guy? This guy made it sound similar the sound of Sam Smith as an angel. That's a double whammy!

Maybe another reason is because I absolutely LOVE the African American California accent. The way Problem says "You know where I'm from. You know what I represent..." E-40? I wanted to make love to his lips for making such beautiful influctions. Problem sounds like he's from the same area? Heck, I honestly didn't even do my research. I just assumed since he sounded like he was from the Bay... 

Anyway. Yes. 
That "What" though...