My Year in Review

2011.

What can I say about 2011? 

To be quite honest, 2011 was a very good year for me. Yes, it started bad and its ending a bit bad/sad but the middle is quite a trip. 

From moving up to a new job that I am well suited for (and LOVE) to the endless trips to Disneyland, 2011 is sure to make it in my top 3 best years of my short life. 

When this year started I was in a very deep depression and I would sink myself into this black hole. Due to various events and key individuals in my life, I was able to get myself out. They probably don't know what they did and they don't need mention but I owe them big time. And without much notice, the year kicked into full gear. By the middle of Feb I was enjoying my (now old) job, participating in University events again and going to Disneyland almost every weekend. My birthday rolled around to wonderful surprises everywhere and loving friends. Despite the fact that I hate celebrating my birthday, it was one to remember. 

And before I knew it, it was summer. 

And with summer came a new job, the adjustment period, finishing my master's degree and more Disneyland trips. Sure, there were set backs (most financially) but that was always overshadowed by the many happy events and moments that were surrounding me. 

With the start of a new school year came the real beginning of my new job. And I have been loving every second of it. The term stress has taken a new meaning with students, deadlines and new projects but I would not change any of it. 

The last 2.5 months of the year have not been the rainbows and butterflies of the first 10. It has been a time of great reflection on myself and others around me, a great amount of time crying and personal hatred and a greater amount of time of learning and processing. It's been a harsh reality, one that I have yet to fully accept, one that I'm sure I am not all at fault for and one that I would do anything to take back and return to how things were. But, we learn from our mistakes and I truly believe things happen for a reason. However, I am determined to not let myself be back in that black hole and drown myself. So, although this is not the ideal way of ending a year, I am learning to balance the sadness of it all with the hope and prosperity that this new year will bring new beginnings (and some old customs too). 

All in all, 2011 is a year for the books. It's a year that I will constantly look back to in future times of turmoil and distress. The good times have definitively overshadowed the bad, something that I am trying to constantly remember in these last few months. 

So, here is a toast to 2011. 

And a toast to 2012 and all the wonderful experiences, events and people that are in store in it. 

Building a régime

I may be the laziest person in the world.

No, seriously.

I would rather not go pee than leave my bed.

Or I would rather call in sick at work than walk 15 mins to my office. (Only done that once, PROMISE!)

So it is no surprise that I don't really work out.

Its so much work! And I don't mean the workout itself.

You have to get up, get undressed, get dressed, take off the make up (I hate sweating on a dirty face), put on the shoes, get the bottle of water, find the key to the gym, find the house keys, get the phone, find the ipod. FINALLY leave the apt, walk to the gym, settle on a machine, figure out how to work the machine and FINALLY start.

See? Exhausting. Too much work in just getting ready.

However, I realized that I need to somehow get off my butt and do something.

A few weeks ago I started making myself get up in the morning and go for a jog.

And you know what? Despite my laziness, I enjoyed it!

I enjoyed my 'me time' that came with it, I enjoyed creating a playlist and I enjoyed the cold weather.

The only bad part is that about a year and 10 months ago I injured my left ankle quite badly and cold weather makes it cramp and hurt very easily. Because of that, I've been having to take it slow so as to not be on bed rest again.

Thanks to my new addiction, pinterest.com, I have found little 10-12 min workouts I can do in the morning and at night. These are easy movement exercises that put little to no effort on my injured foot. They aren't the best and they might be working very slow, but at least I'm getting off my arse.

Truth is, ever since I started doing them, I do feel better. I kinda think it is all psychological but I don't care. It's making me happy, its making me breath better and it's slowly getting me off my depression (which doesn't mean that I am not sad/upset about my ongoing events).

I've also noted that I eat a lot less and somewhat healthier. Now, I think some of it may be that my emotions are still taking over the best of my body (for the best or for the worst. I tend to eat too little/nothing at all or eat an entire village) but I want to think that somehow this whole 'I'm building some sort of regime thing' is at fault. In the mornings, I tend to crave fruit, which is a first to me and in the past few weeks I have been cooking more than usual.

See, healthier!

Or at least healthier than eating out at fast food places.

I started to do this to be healthier. Now, I am just doing it because it makes me feel better.

And the laziness? It's still there but now, I'm kicking its arse!

25

For some odd reason, my mother has been bugging me about what I want to do for my birthday.

This would seem a natural question if it wasn't for the fact that it's about 4.5 months away! I have no idea what has gotten into that women but she keeps asking.

I normally hate my birthday. It makes me quite uncomfortable for people to devote their day and time to me. Even when its genuine, I always feel like its fake. As if people are being made to celebrate my day and not really wanting to do it. Whether this is correct or not, I do not like celebrating my birthday (which is quite ironic because I love being the center of attention).

But because my mother keeps pestering me about what I want, its been on my mind for a few days now. My birthday comes on a Tuesday, which means that I will have to work. Which means I won't be able to do something big.

And then it hit me. I don't want the day to be about me. I want it to be about others.

During my undergrad years, I was fortunate enough to encounter an organization and its individuals that strive themselves in service. Before college I had been involved in several things and thanks to this organization my efforts continued. Even though I am not that active in my community now, I still try to pitch in here and there.

For my birthday, I will be doing 25 random acts of kindness, community service or just something for anyone else. It can be as small as buying lunch for someone who I know is tight on money to buying a goat for a family in another country (and yes, I am not kidding on that).

I will be starting quite soon actually as I already found my first act. I will be sponsoring an 11 month old child in need of clothing. A close friend of mine taught me to always advocate for children and pets as they are the ones that often don't have a voice and with that in mind I picked this baby. I am more than excited about my choice and I can't wait to go shopping for him! (Great excuse for black friday =D)

So, I have one under my belt. I need 24 more.

During lunch yesterday I asked The Best Friend to help with any ideas. He just looked at me, said ok, smiled and kept on eating his vegetables.

Thanks for the help.

SO!If you are reading this and have some ideas, pitch in! I would love to hear them and add them to my birthday bucket list. These acts can be something that I carry out on my own or something I can do with a group.

I am very excited about this project and even more excited for my 25 birthday =D

I say a little prayer for you

The last month and 3 days have been quite challenging. With the combination of my own personal situations and the ongoing events with my family, its been a very heavy emotional roller coaster. I realized things were heading south very quickly when I was constantly making visits to the bathroom to shed a few tears during work hours.

Like I said, things have not been a pretty peachy color around here.

A few days ago, I got the cherry on top of the big cake. A very unexpected occurance crawled into my life and now I am learning how to deal with it.

This news was the last straw for me. I crumbled. I have been trying, albeit many times not succeeded, to be a strong, focused individual. I have become the backbone of emotional support for my mother and I couldn't fathom being a wreck in front of her if I was trying to help cope with our pain. I was swallowing it all in, showing a strong facade and try to only cope in private.

But I crumbled.

It is quite hard pretending to be strong when your insides are constantly screaming for help, a shoulder to cry on and just a simple hug. For the past 30+ days, I've laughed, smiled and even gone out more than my usual self. All things of putting up a front.

When that last cherry arrived a few days ago and I crumbled, I prayed.

For anyone, that would seem something normal to do. In time of need, reach out to your higher being.

Not for me.

I have constantly struggled with the construction of organized religion or the belief of any higher being. If I can't see it or hear it, I can't believe in it. I was once challenged by explaining what love is, given that I can't see it or hear it. It took me a while to realize that faith is just the same as love, I have to feel it. The truth is that I have never felt some hunch or indication that there is a god or goddess. And the boundaries of organized religion have never made any sense to me. I very much respect those individuals who worship a being of some sort, being a god or a rubber band, and I commend them for it. Me, I'm in the minority of diagnosing myself as atheist or agnostic.

However, on this occassion, praying just happened. I didn't realize what I had done until a few minutes after I was done. I realized that out of nowhere I had asked for the well being of my family and those I love.

And then I felt guilt.

Guilt because I never pray willingly and now, the first time in who knows how long, I had asked for something only in my time of need. The Best Friend (who used to be The Roommate but now has left my humble abode for his own) reassured that if it came naturally then it must be needed. Seeing as how he is always right, I stopped thinking about it. The guilt didn't go away and there wasn't much I couldn't do so I just let it be.

I began to wonder what it was that make me want to pray. As humans, we are constantly looking for that connections with someone (why else would we spend countless hours trying to find our mate? Come on! There are even websites dedicated to it. Harmony.com anyone?). In times of despair, we have turned to reach out to those who can lift our spirits and give us hope. That is, what I have discovered, is prayer. Its the feeling of telling someone, or something, that we need someone to talk to and to reassure us that things will be ok. It's an invisible best friend.

I can't say that I have been converted. I will need a lot more to make me believe that there is a higher being.

But for now, I prayed. And I still feel guilty about doing so but I feel better.

These are a few of my favorite things

Not very long ago, I was thinking about the little things that I must do or have in order to get going with my day. I was thinking about it because I was packing for a trip and I realized how dependent I am of these 'essential' things, which actually are not that essential.

Which is also a huge problem when I travel because then my suitcase or bag is always about to explode with things 'I have to have with me'. Talk about being a spoiled brat.

So, because I always envisioned having a blog post about (queu Julie Andrews) 'a few of my favorite things!' today you are the lucky reader of my very own review post.

WOOT! Be excited!

No seriously, be excited. For my sake.

Clinique Acne Solution

Now, I don't really have to fight acne. Never really had to. Just had the random, normal things happening to my face when I hit my teens. However, no matter how much I searched for a product, including ProActiv, nothing seemed to work to clean and clarify my face. I usually would have some sort of allergic reaction to the production. Until I met Clinique. And I love it! It works perfectly and results are seen within a few days. It's a little pricey, but it usually will last about 2-3 months.

NARS Smodge Proof Eyeshadow Base

I stumbled upon this product by accident when I ordered something online from Sephora back in November. It was one of my three free trial products that came with my order. I've been hooked on it ever since. You know that little crease you get on your lids after wearing make up all day? Not no more! This will help prevent that little crease and make eyeshadow stay in place and not smudge.

Maybelline Great Lash in Blackest Black

Maybe she's born with it. Maybe its Maybelline!

I had to throw that in there. It was too cheesy not to.

I can go without wearing any other typemake up on my face but mascara is a must no matter what.  Tried various mascaras, including a VERY EXPENSIVE Christian Dior. Nothing compares to this one. My mom used it, I use it. My offspring better use it if they are into this sorta thing.

ChapStick Classic in Cherry

It's true: I get the Cherry kind because of the color that it leaves behind on my lips and I want to be like Snow White. Plus, it smells good. Regardless of where I go, even if its Disneyland and I just have wristlet, I HAVE to pack chapstick. I'm addicted.

On friendships

I don't know exactly how to write this post.

I fear that it will just end up being a stream of consciousness.

However, this post has has been lingering in my head for quite a while. As much as I would like to push it aside, it is for my own sanity that I have chosen to write the smallest portion of this huge part of my life.

It is no secret that I have a hard time relating to people. I tend to automatically dislike people as soon as I meet them and then decide whether I like them or not after a few interactiosn. Even now, looking back, I have had very limited close friends. To narrow things down a bit more, I relate more with men than women; don't ask why because I don't even know.

Don't get me wrong. I've had plenty of women friends, even now, that I consider good friends of mine. And I have also had numerous people who I would even label under the 'best friends' category.

However, I always seem to give it more than the other person. There is nothing wrong with that, every person sees the relationship from a different angle and with different perspectives on how far it should go. My problem is that I ALWAYS seem to take it way more personal that my counterpart. And so, when I realize that our friendship is not as deep as a connection as I thought, I end up being hurt.

Friendships are one of the most important relationships I can even encounter. A friendship, to me, is the foundation of becoming comfortable as a person. I have to thank many of those friendships for making me the person that I am today.

Because of those friendships, I have become a stronger person. I have learned what love is, the definition of a true friend and to allow myself to be comfortable with who I am.

What I have encountered is a lot of hurt. Mostly from my part, for thinking that there was a deeper connection, understanding and love in our friendship.

So, what I have learned is that I really can't trust no one. Even those that I had deemed as close and personal friends have come to defy that title.  I can't trust no one because I don't know when that person is going to walk away. I can't trust no one because I don't know how much of my personal information is going out to the masses via that certain someone. I can't trust no one because I can't put myself through this every single time I think I have a meaningful friendship. I can't trust no one because there should never be a reason to fully trust someone.

What have I learned from this: There is a reason people keep certain things personal, just to themselves.

And that I have been messed up very many times for me to feel this way.

These are a few of my weird things

Everyone has their own little quirks. Some people's food can't touch; others put on the left shoe first. Of course I have my own. I've noticed that I may be a little more weird than the average person, especially with my new random things. So, I am here to prove that theory correct.

Recently, I have developed this obsession with whether I am giving off any unpleasant body odor. I don't know where this came from but I am constantly thinking "Do I smell?"

I like sleeping in a very cold, near freezing place while having a whole bunch of blankets. So every night, regardless of the weather, I have a huge fan blowing while I snuggle under the blankets. That's how I roll.

For the past few days, I've had three drinks before going to bed: a cup of soy chocolate milk, a few sips of lemonade and some water. I don't know where this came from and I don't care to figure it out. All I know is that it's becoming a small ritual and although all the flavors don't go together, my tongue is happy.

Every day, for as long as I can remember since he first came home, I ask Konah two questions: "How was your day? What did you do?" I usually get a 'what-the-hell-are-you-talking-about-woman-I-don't-want-to-talk-to-you-please-give-me-a-treat-now-that-you're-home' look.

I love this pooch.

I ran out of ideas

I was doing so well in coming up with stuff to write about. I actually have TWO posts waiting to be posted; they are sitting there because a) I need to proof read them and b) I need to mentally prepare to what the consequences of one of the posts will be.

So, I thought I was on roll having all these ideas and stuff to write about.

And then I hit a wall.

Really, I did. I was walking the other day in my work complex and I don't know why I forgot there was a wall right next to this classroom and I walked right into it.

Go ahead, laugh. I'll wait. Actually, all go get the laundry while you laugh.

Done? Moving on.
The good thing: NOBODY saw.

The bad thing: I think all of my blog ideas went away with that hit.

To add to all of this, I have been ill for the past 5 years.

Ok, fine, so its not 5 years but that is what it feels like.

I've had headaches, body aches, and fever for over a week now; on and off but still, a week. Today, my stomach decided to join in on the fun of 'let's-torture-Claudia' special and I've had horrible stomach pain for the past 7 hrs. I partially blame my lack of a proper lunch, but wouldn't  no lunch equal no pain?

Apparently not.

So, anyyyywwwwaaaaayyyy. I don't have any blog post ideas.

Actually, I think I may have just thought of one. But I'm not sure people will want to read about that. Then this blog will become a Dear Diary journal, very 6th grade. Not sure I want to go there.

I do have something semi important to share. Well, important to me anyways. And if you don't like it, oh well. It's my blog so I can be as narcissistic as I want.

You know when you have that ONE song stuck in your head? And then you have it on repeat for days? And days? And days?

Has that ever happened to you with TWO songs? No? Well, don't worry, I'll share mine.

Here are my two most recent "I can't stop playing you, one more time! Last time, I swear! NOT!" songs.

Now, I don't really know why its these two. They are random, completely different genres and languages. But everytime I listen to either one of them I can't help but sing my lungs out, which is great because I am the sole owner of the building that houses my office.

The only thing in common between both of them is that they both have very suave leads.

Also, I want to more then marry Romeo, the lead, from Aventura =)

Aventura- Mi Corazoncito



Ne-Yo- One in a million

I'm 24 and I may need a break from life already

I have no direction.

I don't. I really don't.

I'm 24, almost a quarter of a century old, and I have no freaking clue what the hell I'm doing.

Or what I want to do.

I want to not freak out. I really, really, really do.

I want to not freak out because hey! I'm only 24, I've been in school for about 18 of those years and have had little experience with the real world.

So, I think I am completely and 100% entitled to not freak out and have some time to figure it out. See what the world has to offer.

Do some trial and error.

But, alas, that is not the case. There is no room for trial and error.

And I'm freaking out. Very, very, VERY much.

Why?

Oh, I'll tell you why!

Very soon, sooner than I care to think about, I will be out of a job. Nothing new, I've always known this was coming. However, the idea of looking for a job makes me nervous.

And not because of the interviews and dressing up and doing applications.

What makes me more nervous is what kind of job to look for. Should I take a job in my area of interest, a job related to my degree or just a job to hold me down until I figure out what the hell I want to do with my life?

I want to travel. And not the 'lets-grab-a-backpack-and-hike-around-a-continent' kind of traveling. More of the 'I-want-to-live-in-a-new-place-and-experience-a-new-culture' kind of travel.

I've never really experienced other cultures, languages, conflicts. I've never really left California and Mexico. Except for basketball tournaments in Oregon. And the occasional Vegas trip.

I want to go somewhere and have no freaking clue how to verbally communicate and have a little pocket dictionary and get lost for hours trying to find the local grocery store.

I want to possibly take a job at a local store of this foreign city, learning from the old lady that knows everything and yells at me for doing things wrong when I have no freaking idea what is going on.

But when you choose a degree, and continue further with your Master's and you're about to graduate and be thrown to the lions, aka the real world, all of those options seem to dissapear. Why? Because you need a job to survive!

So, in order for me to get a job, I needed a degree (which means that I had to narrow it down  at some point in college). Which means that I need to always have a string of jobs in the same area if I want to move up the ladder, which these days you need to live a decent comfortable life. Which means that I can't wander off to my other interests. Which means that I need to focus on one goal, one career and stick with it. Which means that I need to decide soon because in 4 months, give or take, I will be thrown loose. Which means that I need to know what I want now. Which means that I need to be sure that I made a good college major choice.

Newsflash: I constantly think that I chose the wrong major.

Why? I have too many interests to just throw myself in a box and call it a day.

And even more: What if I DID choose the wrong career!?

I always thought it was interesting that at the tender (and I do mean tender) age of 20 we have to choose our major.

How the hell am I suppose to know what I want to do for the rest of my life with just 20 yrs of life on me? And that is not taking into account that 16 of those years were spent learning... well, stuff.

Yes, I know there are some who are very goal oriented and they have a set plan and have it all figured out. But let me tell you something: there are a lot of us who have no freaking clue what to do.

But here is the real problem:  I don't know what I want to do.

Don't get me wrong. I LOVE my Bachelor's degree, the courses I took to obtain it, and the great college experience I had. I love EVEN MORE my Master's and its curriculum and the growth it has given me. I am able to think way more critical than before and I have great passion coming out of my pores. I leave classes chatting away like a chihuahua to the Roommate and we have great discussions.

All that makes me very happy. Knowing that I have been very fortunate and privileged to obtain a great education.

But what if I was wrong?

What if I decide down the line that this isn't what I want to do for life?

Has anybody ever stopped to consider that I may have chosen the wrong emphasis?

Let alone that it's ok that I can change my mind? NO!

I hate when people ask what I'm going to do. I never know what to answer. Because I don't know what I'm going to do. Because I sometimes think I choose the wrong emphasis. Which means that I've been working in the wrong field. Which, then, means that if I want to change careers 'Good finding a job with no degree in your new career Claudia!'

It would be horrible if I realize this isn't what I wanted. My mom would make me feel like I can't make up my mind, that I wander too much, that I constantly follow and not lead. And what is wrong with following and not leading? Another story for another day.

And I have to constantly think about the dissapointment it could bring me. 6 yrs (not counting my potential doctorate) of school and still no goal?

What about all that money? Did it all go to waste?

And what is worse: People can give you crap for not knowing what you want. I want to know how many of those people had it all figured out by my age. Even more, tell me if it worked out for ya. Come on, I'm listening.

So, I really don't want to freak out. I really don't because I think that it is more than normal to NOT know what I want.

But when you need to have a job, because you have bills and rent and other responsabilities to take care of, and you're about to finish your second degree, it feels as if your options are slim to none.

It feels as if I should be somehow settled.
And then I start to freak out. Freak out because I am 24, with the world as my oyster and here I may have put myself in a box already.

A box that I am not even sure I may like.

Me. Freaking out. Except it looks more like me being grossed out by something.

Love Story 2007

This is a love story. A true love story but very much unlike any love story.This story goes beyond any other love story you have ever read or hear of.

This love story started not long ago, but long enough to forget all about it. And like many other love stories, it grew out of nothing. Out of thin air. It came when no one expected it but all needed it. It was the most wonderful surprise that all participants could had received. It was the first time that all four understood the meaning of that four letter word that all had longed to hear. It was as if they had been sleeping for their whole lives and all of sudden they had woken up with a huge and firm understanding of what it is to love another person but more importantly, what it is to be loved back.

This love story took them by surprise. It was just like they had heard in movies, in poems and songs. They understood that love came from a single understanding, a single bond, a simple laugh and a soft touch. They finally understood what it was like to see others and just smile all day for no apparent reason. They understood what it meant to want to give others the entire world.

This love story created a new meaning of the word sacrifice. All four understood what it meant to sacrifice any single being of itself for the other three. The others became the most important being in each of their lives that anything they did was mundane. The happinness of the others became an absolute goal and reward. There would never be a big enough obstacle or harm that could stand in the way of one another.

This love story created a beating heart. A beating heart made up of four individuals. Without one person the heart could not beat. It was as if they had found a missing part of themselves they didn't know existed. They couldn't understand how until this very moment they had lived without one another. It was as if when they met, they had all become one single person. 

This love story created unconditional love. There were never enough words or gestures or acts of affection that could begin to describe even the surface of this intense feeling.  However, to them, not much was needed to comprehend that the others felt a giant urge of love and affection towards one another. Where one person started and the other person ended, there was no clear line. The amount of respect and devotion to one another was clearly visible in each of their faces.

This love story is a short love story. It was as if it had all been a tease. And when this love story ended, all four died a little inside. And they have yet to love the same way again. They have looked for one another in other people and  have failed. It's as if they continue to look for what they had already found. And despite various outward appearances, they long for what used to be, for one another, even if just for a short period of time.

This love story is a true love story.

A true, tragic love story.

But in those few intances that they look back and remember, they find that love still alive within them.

BACK! By popular demand! (But not really)

When I first started this 'blog' (let's be serious, it can't be called a blog when it has just one post, well, I guess now two...), I was intending to write about... uumm... Well, I don't really know about what.

I mean, I have thoughts, things to say, things that I usually narrate in my head because I am that crazy. However, by the time this 'blog' was conceived, all those thoughts and things seemed so mundane.

I mean, who wants to know about my irrational fear of earthquakes? Or how I have had a cup of coffee for the last 18 days or so that I am now co-dependent? Or that I will be jobless in the less than two months and I am freaking out to the point of highly considering selling everything I own, including my roommate's dog? Or how for the past month or so I have been involved in some heavy duty serious situations with several people/scenerios? Or how when I went to get my mani/pedi I made up a whole story about who I am, what I do, and other details of my personal life just for the heck of it? Or how I am such a jelly belly and I want an iphone? Or how much I have been hating the rain in the last few months? Or how addicted I am to check in by foursquare everywhere I go? Or how, for the first time, I absolutely understand the saying 'my biological clock is ticking' because I actually hear mine ticking ALL THE TIME?

Nah, all those things seem so mundane.  My topics seem so blah. And just a bunch of whinning. And a bunch of selfishness. I mean, we got a huge tragedy happening  in Japan for Pete's sake! ( Btw, who the hell is Pete?)

Plus, I have no freaking clue how people find the time to write. I read blogs every day. I love it. It takes me away from my own little insignificant world. It inspires me, what people say. Gives me lots of food for thought.

The questions is: how do people do it!? One new blog post everyday? Bollocks!

These people must have writer fairies or magical powers of some sort that I don't possess. Share the love!

How regular bloggers like my friends Andy and Coco and The Pionner Woman and Marriage Confessions do it, I would like to know.

So, this post is for them.

Well, for Andy and Coco because I actually know them in real life. The other two have no freaking clue who I am.

This is a cry for help! HELP! HELP! ANDY! COCO! HELP!

Ok, not that dramatic. I tend to overreact =D

But seriously, how do you do it? You two are like wonder woman. And I adore you both for it. So, as senior bloggers, help a sista out! I want to be cool just like you =D

And I really do mean that last part (the cool more> help part)

It's Friday January 7, 2011.

Let’s be honest: I hate writing. Ok, I don’t hate it per say, but I am not good at it. Therefore, I don’t like it. Because I suck at it. I mean, just look at the effing title of this blog post. Original, I know.

So why I started this to begin with is still a mystery. But I don’t think that using twitter as a means to let all my witty and sarcastic comments come out is very productive. There is only so much I can write in 140 characters or less. So, I ask? Who the fuck thought that 140 characters was a suitable number to write your thoughts and ideas? Whoever that genius is, please send him/her my way because let me tell you, writing a tweet can be hard work sometimes. And it’s not like I can write everything on facebook. Facebook is now a your unofficial resume. You never know who is watching. Plus, I talk a lot, which means that I can write a lot. Which means that I needed a blog. Because I have thoughts. Apparently. Or at least according to my brain and all of the thinking it does during my 15 min walk from home to work every morning. And then the other 15 min from work to home every evening. Lots of stuff in there, not just tumbleweeds. Surprised?

And the title of this blog is in no reflection what I will write about. Pocket full of sunshine? Really? If anybody thinks that the world is a pocket full of sunshine with rainbows and love, then that person must live in a Disney movie. The old Disney movies, like Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs.

By the way, does anybody else feel offended that they used the word dwarf? Way to educate Walt. ANYWAYS, Sunshine. In pocket. All fake. Well, not all fake but not all real. Either you live in fantasy world or you smoke pot. A lot. In which case, then the world IS a pocket full of sunshine for you. Aren’t you lucky?

The title didn’t come because I was looking to be all nice and cute and use metaphors and all that crap. No, I simply didn’t know what to call it. So, what did I do? I emailed The Roommate for questioning. And he simply replied with Pocket Full of Sunshine. Why? Because I have been singing and singing and shouting and humming such song with such name thanks to a movie we saw over the weekend. And there is this hilarious clip about it. The girl hates the song at first and eventually turns to liking it. Doesn’t that happen to everyone like, ALL the time? I mean, I listen to stupid Tick Tock song by stupid wannabe singer. I hated it! I still do! But somehow, every time it comes on the radio, I sing all the lyrics and turn up the volume. I blame all the subliminal messages that must be hiding in that song. Either that or I really like this garbage of a song and I just don’t care to admit it. I think I will go with option A.

So, lets all thank the hilarious clip and my inability to stop singing a song over and over and over and over again until I annoyed the heck out of people.

And to be honest,  The Roommate was annoyed by me and my pocket full of sunshine repertoire so it was meant to be a sarcastic reply to what I should name the blog. But, I was desperate for a name and I figured I could use it to my advantage. Maybe. Sorta. End of the story.

Now, go watch the video! And you will like it! And you will laugh and replay it over and over. And if you don't, don't bother coming here again.