Right off the bat, I met someone I adored. And I mean, adored. I felt like I had an epiphany of what I wanted in a guy. Oddly, I wasn’t in pursual mode when I met this guy. He took it upon himself to initiate any kind of flirtation, which I found even more attractive. Being a rather unpopular, ugly duckling type in high school, I quickly gave into this new found attention.

This relationship was fast and furious. I probably should have interpreted the speed of which the relationship was hurling as a red flag, but like most fresh relationships, I was way too blinded by my own enamored feelings. God, I was goofy. I felt like I was hopped up on sugar whenever we were together. I also felt really annoying pangs of desperation, like I needed to try really hard to keep him interested. I would do anything just to make him happy.

Soon enough, problems started to crawl out of the woodwork. He was never really sure if he wanted to be with me, even in the beginning stages where passion was at its peak. It became a really frequent problem, and lasted for about a year. Even through the issues, I wanted to stay with him. I put him on a pretty tall pedestal, and concluded that I would never meet anyone like him. He was unique.

The break up was harsh. When I reflect on it though, I scold myself and call myself a whipped puppy for not handling it better. But at the time, my world was CRUSHED. And when someone feels their world is crushed, it tends to affect him or her in unpleasant ways. Being absurdly persistent, I decided the best way to deal with this is to try EVERYTHING to win his affections back. This resulted in me exhibiting minor psychotic ex-girlfriend behavior. I think a lot of us have been there. The shock of the break up sometimes hurts so much, that your brain short circuits and you quickly turn into a goddamn nutbar.

To make a long story short (too late): It didn’t work. It didn’t work because I was one sorry ass of a human being. You might as well have murdered my entire family right in front of me. I just didn’t know how to deal. Being comfortable in a very long relationship that I had terminated left me without any kind of break up coping mechanism. Friendship didn’t seem to be an option. I wanted more, he didn’t. Conflict.

Someone once told me the best way to get over someone, is to get someone else under you. Har har, IT’S A SEX REFERENCE. Very clever. After some major emo brooding in the form of surfing the internet for LOLcats, I decided to go on a few dates.

It failed.

It failed hardcore.

I did manage to go on a few dates, and I’m sure some guys were actually interested (poor souls), but the pedestal I put my ex on completely over towered everyone else. I probably looked and acted like a zoned out wreck on most of these dates. I was pretty much just going through the motions.

Months passed by, and I finally just got tired of being so pathetic. So one day, I decided to get involved with an online community forum in hopes of creating a website and online content. I don’t know why this sounded like a good idea, but if it would get me out of my funk, then why the hell not. I put on my game face and started coding like no other girl has coded before.

One day, I met some local friends in Chicago to hang out, and the person I made plans with decided to bring one of her friends. For the first time in a long time, I thought, “Hey. He’s cute.” My subconscious finally started sawing away at the giant ex boyfriend pedestal. He wasn’t my ex boyfriend. But he was also unique, and I found myself interested in someone. Genuinely interested. So interested, that we scheduled a date for the next night and spent all hours of the night talking. This time was different. Oh, yes. This time, I was BOLD.

I wasn’t perfect right away. There was still some sadness, but the more I spent time with this guy, the more I realized that there is always another person in the world right for you, and I beat myself up for even DWELLING over a guy who wasn’t even sure if he wanted me in the first place. Someone once told me, “There is always someone 100 times better suited for you.” I don’t really know if that is true, because I always believed there to be some kind of ending point. But in this case, it held true. When you have someone new and exciting in your life, it’s incredibly hard to think about lovers past. I do wonder how my ex is doing from time to time, and try not to harbor those painfully bitter feelings that most ex’s seem to hold.

And that is how I got over my break up, while learning to code at the same time.

And then the motivation eludes me.  Somewhere between the bathtub being halfway full, and the beginning phases of my fingers starting to wrinkle from sitting in the water, this happens:

“I don’t want to update.  I’m too lazy.  I’m tired.  I hate everything.  I’m going to sit here in this way too small for me bathtub until I prune.  I hate it when I prune.  Fucking gross.”

I then neglect my website, and all of my other duties for the day, due to extreme hatred for myself.  Sometimes the sadness is completely unjustified, and sometimes there are legitimate reasons, but it all boils down to the same outcome; extreme bouts of depression.

I’d like to think I am a fairly strong woman.  I’ve definitely had a life of hardships, but the hardships helped me to grow a couple of extra skins.  I was that girl in high school who seriously didn’t give a fuck.  I’m not sure if that apathy was depression spawned, or if I was just lazy.  Don’t like me?  Well I fucking hate you.  Homework?  Fuck it.  Give me a D.  Oh, what’s this?  A guy is potentially interested in dating me?  WELL FUCK HIM.  AAAAAAAAAAAAAAGNST.

I feel like I could have gave Courtney Love a run for her money in the “bitchy, self loathing” category.  However, even through all the negativity, there is this weird happy-go-lucky side of me that often likes to take possession:

Oh, what’s this?  A guy is potentially interested in dating me?  WELL FUCK HIM! …….. (secret squeeing and bubbly giggles.)

People who see me on the outside most often experience the happy-go-lucky goofball side.  After I am done exhausting myself from radiating goofiness to the outside world, I sometimes shut down and decide that brooding is totally the way to go.  Brooding is dramatic.  It’s deep.  Look at how stoic I am as I brood.  It’s a fucking art form.  

On brooding days, I find it nearly impossible to get anything done.  My laundry can be piled to the ceiling, but I cannot let that get in the way of my goddamn brooding.  Dishes can get moldy.  I could get hungry.  Doesn’t matter.  I’m busy.

A couple days of extreme brooding will pass by, and I will burst back to life like nothing has ever happened.   I will attack my room mate with bubbliness and act happy as a clam.  My motivation for writing and artwork will fill my being, and I will get things done.   Optimism is my middle name.  I will stay in this state for quite a long time, until I decide to brood again.

I could speculate on reasons why I allow myself to fall victim to days of sadness.  Maybe it has to do with past events.  Maybe I have a chemical imbalance.  Maybe I am a nutbar.  I don’t know.   I’d like to think my happy self is just completely pissed off at my brooding self for being an emo bitch, so I cannot stay depressed.  I also have this gift[curse] of pushing away my sadness for other people who are feeling crappy.  I think it’s called “caring” or something.  Most people who suffer consistent periods of depression push away people who care about them, because all they really care about is their own pain.   I’ve definitely been there in the past.

Oh man.  John is IMing me.  He seems concerned.  I should answer his IM….

(Doesn’t answer for days at a time)

John is still IMing me.  I think he’s trying to cheer me up.  Maybe I could hold down a conversation this time.

…No.  I hate myself too much tonight.

These days, I can get past my own sadness and turn my attention to other people who may need help.  No matter how worthless I feel, if I see one of my friends in pain, I will metaphorically switch my emotions to zero and want to help them instead.

I don’t really see myself as a sad person.  Most often, I see myself as someone pretty darn happy, who likes to take a club to any kind of sad thought and bludgeon it to a bloody pulp.  If there is depression there somewhere, I am certainly not having any of it.  I’ll allow myself to brood, to get out whatever troubles I need to, prune until I’m a fucking raisin in the bathtub, but the sadness is not allowed to stay.  Besides, if I stay consistently upset, I will never get my laundry done, and my clothes will start to smell.

And I hate that.

People might read this post, and think that it’s sad or depressing.  But even as I wrote it, I didn’t feel that way at all.  This serves more of a reflection of things I’ve felt in the past, and sometimes things I feel recently, but for the most part, optimism will conquer it all.

There is something to be said for being “the most improved student.”  When I was in Jr. High, there were awards given to students who achieved academic success.  ”Most likely to succeed”, “Least amount of absences,” and the incredibly unappreciated “Most improved” award.  Many students do not realize how impressive the title really is.  ”Most improved?  Doesn’t that mean you SUCKED at first?!”  And it does. It means you weren’t doing so hot in whatever classes you were taking.  But it also implies you stepped it up, and overcame those academic and life obstacles that may have initially kept you from success.

When I was 7, my family and I moved out of a small town and into a bigger city.  Being a quiet child, I found it difficult to make friends at my new school.  And thus began the 15 year downward spiral of despising school and everyone who went.  Up until 4th grade, I didn’t show any signs of being a troubled child.  And then 5th grade came along, and BAM.  GALLSTONES.  Yes, I was 10 and somehow had gallstones.  I went in for surgery to have the stones and affected organ removed, and when I went back to school, I found it extremely difficult get back into the routine.  Part of this was because I felt like I didn’t have many friends, and I feared the other kids were talking behind my back.  It seems quite silly at the time, but I was positive, in my neurotic, 11 year old mind, I was being ridiculed for having to have my gallbladder taken out.

Between the ages of eleven and fourteen, I longed to be popular.  It was almost an unhealthy obsession – I wanted nothing more to be apart of the popular crowd, but I was too shy, and I was labeled a loser.  As a child, it was impossible to foresee my future, not knowing that labels wouldn’t matter in college or beyond.  I became so depressed and self conscious about myself, that I didn’t care about learning, or making the best out of my education.  I was blinded by my own selfish thoughts and wants.  The longer I went to school, the more I hated myself.   So I did terribly.  Present me would absolutely hate past me.  I would kick my own ass if I knew myself back then.

I started high school with the same morose thoughts leaking over.  I did not care to learn in my classes.  I just wanted out.  I fell into the awful category of people who go around spouting, “Why am I learning THIS?  I will never use this in real life!  Screw this garbage.”  To make matters worse, my father was suffering with cancer at the time.  When he died, my apathy for school turned into pure, irrational hatred.  I was kicked out of public school and put into an alternative school.  After my fathers passing, I dropped out.

It’d be easy to say that I dropped out due to my Father’s death, but it only played one factor in my decision.  My father’s death was tragic, and of course affected me a great deal, but wasn’t the main problem keeping me from fulfilling my academic goals.  It put a strain on things, but at that point, I still didn’t know what I was supposed to be doing with my education.

My mom pushed me to get my GED, and thank god she did.  I owe her one.  Even though I wasn’t very dedicated to going to my GED study courses, I passed, and it was enough to get me into college.

Without even thinking, I started college without any set plans as to what I should major in.  I figured, “Hey.  I can draw!  I’ll major in art!”

I loathed it.

Drawing on command?  Why would anyone want to do that?

I struggled with many majors between the ages of 18-23.  Over those 5 years, my motivation seemed to slowly climb, but because I was  so indecisive about what I was going to study, I never really got anywhere.  Fiction writing, psychology, illustration…christ, I almost went into phlebotomy!  And I’m not saying there is anything wrong with any of these subjects.  But they didn’t keep my interest long enough, and my enthusiasm seemed to dwindle.  My GPA was a 1.3.  I had flunked three courses.  Yeah, I was really going places.

It was not until I met a guy through some mutual friends, who was majoring in computer science, that I finally started to become passionate about learning.  Before I go any further, I must admit to you guys, I am a hardcore nerd.  Computers, video games, and anything technology related always fascinated me, but due to my ignorance, I never thought I could find a school concentration that allowed me to work with those things.  I fell madly in love with this guy, because he was passionate about computer science.  Always striving to be better.  I wanted to be like him.  He was now my hero.

So I followed in his footsteps, and with his help, I found a major that helped me learn more about computers and internet related technologies.  Which is a great thing, because I am pretty much putzing around on the internet all day anyway.  I suddenly felt like I belonged in school.  The ideas of being popular were gone.  Instead of my father’s death plaguing me, it inspired me.  I enjoyed being smart, and I enjoyed learning about something I truly loved.

After awhile, one of the school professors urged me to apply for a teacher aide/tech tutoring position at the school.  She probably noticed that while I was in her class, I was constantly helping the other students sitting around me.  So I applied, and got the job.  Teaching people has been a truly gratifying experience.  It’s a job that not only makes me happy, but makes others happy when they finally understand a concept they couldn’t grasp before.   My confidence was now boosted. I currently have a GPA of 4.0 in my core classes, and a 3.6 all around.   I still have two F’s on my school transcripts, but with my dedication to my concentration, I was able to combat the two F’s with a slew of A’s.  It was not easy, and it took a long time.  But good things are often difficult, and time consuming.

You will know when something truly clicks.  The moment you “get it”; the moment you finally understand that math equation, or that programming concept, is one of the most rewarding feelings you will ever experience.  And it is worth it.  Even if you think you are trapped in a class that you may not ever use, you owe it to yourself to make the best out of those classes, and get the grade you really want.   Pay attention to other people.  Pay attention to people who are passionate about what they do, and let that inspire you.

Someone once told me that a large part of intelligence is not your ability to *do* your work, but the ability to adapt to situations, and have an understanding of what you are doing.   I didn’t realize that when I first started my education.   I always wanted the “best grades” award right off the bat.  But I embrace my “most improved” status.   Never lose heart, even when you felt like you’ve lost it.  There are some things in life you can’t change;  some obstacles that seem impossible to move past.  But you can always go back and learn.

I figure this would be a good time to reflect on the things I am genuinely thankful for. Granted, I could blog about this any time I want, and should be grateful for things all year round, but like most people, these things hit more when it’s the holiday season.

One thing I think about more than anything else during this season is my family. I lost my Dad to a gruesome kind of way when I was 14, and he was the glue in my family. Up until his death we were pretty tight. These days my family is distant from each other for various reasons except for my mom, who I remain close to. Even though I miss my dad pretty much every day, and it’s easy for me to start feeling bitter about his loss, I am still grateful for having him in my life for the time I did. Loss of any kind is difficult, whether through means of death, break up, falling out, abandonment; it’s one of the hardest things to deal with. But there definitely came a time when I was done mourning the death of my father, and I instead started celebrating the fact that he inspired me so much, and I was proud to be his daughter, even if only for a short time. I feel when he was alive, I probably took him for granted and didn’t appreciate him enough until after his passing. That seems to be how it goes most of the time. I’ve always been grateful for having friendships and meaningful relationships in my life, but as time goes on we become complacent with people. We disregard phone calls, text messages, and emails, telling ourselves we’ll eventually get back to them, but most likely do not. I’m guilty of this very frequently. My best friend and I have become so comfortable, that we ignore each others messages through out the day, thinking this is acceptable because it’s no big deal, we will just see each other later. One of my friends was in a very serious car crash a couple weeks ago, and it was then that I realized we should never just become complacent with our friends. We should appreciate the fact that we have them, because even though we all know that anything could take us away at any given point of the day, it only really sticks when it becomes real, and you almost do lose someone. People are the most important thing in the world. Much more important than anything on the internet, more important than making videos, or tweeting about mundane bullshit you do throughout the day (which I am also very guilty of). Do not disregard your family members and friends simply because you can get back to them later.

No one can be a perfect friend, or a perfect daughter or son, but I do think it’s important to take a step back once in awhile, and think about the people you do have in your life. It is incredibly easy to forget about the important people and get swept up in yourself. We’re all pretty selfish when it comes down to it. So I’d like to take this moment to say I am grateful for my friends and family, despite whether we are close, or have separated in some way. I hope everyone has a wonderful holiday season, and I hope everyone gets a chance to stuff themselves with dressing almost as good as my moms. (But it won’t be as good, trust me. Hers is the best.)

Happy Holidays!

It came with Doom. It was so cool.

I decided my new computer was amazing. I loved it. It could play games, I could write papers on it, it had Windows 3.1, which I was personally amazed by because previously, I had been using DOS computers, AND it had that RADICAL MS-Paint program that I could paint really stupid portraits of myself in. COOOOOOOOL.

In my amazement, I decided to write a paper on my new toy. It was for either 2nd or 3rd grade if I recall correctly. I don’t remember the exact time, I just have the visual in my head of reading my paper out loud to the class. The subject of the paper was to be “The best thing I received for Christmas.” So I wrote this completely in depth paper about my computer. How it had Windows 3.1. How it had a CD-ROM. How soundblaster was new, and that my games could talk. I was a very passionate 8 year old.

I spoke my words proudly and eagerly. And when I was done, the clique of snobby girls sitting diagonal from me laughed. And then I realized that I had ostracized myself from my fellow students for the rest of the year. And even the rest of my time spent in elementary school. Being a “nerd” or any form of “computer geek” was the worst thing you could be when I was growing up. It wasn’t accepted as being cool like it is today. No, when I was growing up, my friends of the female persuasion would rather involve themselves in the exciting, fast paced worlds of boy bands. And jewelry. And sometimes shoes. I hate shoes. Eventually I got tired being a nerd and ran amuck through my high school years, resulting in me getting thrown out of public school. ….But that is really a story for another day. *coughISortOfThreatenedThePrincipalcough*

It blows my mind that “nerdy” things have become such a trendy thing. Now we have websites devoted to selling geek swag. It’s COOL to be a nerd. You WANT to know about things like Star Wars, Back to the Future, Computers, iPhones, programming. Man, I’m COOL now. And because I actually teach students technology based subjects at my job, I’m even MORE COOL. Students depend on me because I have the upper hand. I HAVE POWER. ….sorry.

But then I thought, is being a nerd cool because people actually find it cool? Or is it more of a matter that technology has become so useful, that people depend on nerds? I teach students of all ages and from all kinds of different backgrounds. I constantly get young girls coming in with their iPhone. Young, teenage girls who are fresh out of high school, and honestly don’t have a clue, and for the most part are required to take *some* form of computer course just to complete their core. These girls do not care about learning the computer. But they DO care that their iPhone is working properly, so they depend on us computer dorks, programmers, and hardware gurus to make their everyday accessories work. Now, for the most part, I get students who love learning. But every now and then I get those bratty, spoiled types who could care less about what they have the opportunity to learn. Apathetic as they are, they are not like the girls who made fun of me in elementary school. They respect people who have the upper hand.

I think another reason being a nerd has become so accepting over the last 15 years or so, is the fact that video games have become more popular than ever. And good video games require good programmers, good designers, good artists, and because games have become so lush and cinematic over time, it’s something everyone can get into. Unless you are one of those gals who break their boyfriends PS3s in a giant butthurt fit then uploads it on youtube. Man, I hate that.

I remember being young and being ridiculed for liking the computer games that I played. Now I hop online, claim to like video games, and all of a sudden I am some hot commodity for having girl parts, and enjoying games. It’s absolutely insane the way things have changed. It’s pretty nice not having to worry about getting picked on for having been a huge nerd in the past. I mean, that’s what my obsession with the Monkees is for. Pick on that, for cripes sake.

Some things never change, however. The other day I taught a girl who wore pants that read “juicy” on the butt. I was teaching her Microsoft Excel. She didn’t understand something, so she just outright laughed and called it stupid. Nobody laughed with her.