Unintentional

I accidentally completed one of my Bucket List items. I sat in an empty theatre and watched a movie. Well, part of a movie. See, I work in a movie theatre, but as of now do not own my own car, so I got off work early one day and my mom couldn’t come get me immediately, so I went into a movie that I had already seen for about thirty minutes while waiting. It was That Awkward Moment, which I had previously seen while sitting next to a gaggle of obnoxious teenage girls, so I appreciated the quiet this time around. I didn’t even realize that the auditorium was empty until I looked around fifteen minutes in to make sure I wouldn’t disturb anybody by texting.

Earlier today, I was flipping through the notebook in which I had originally written my Bucket List (before posting it on here), and noticed that number thirty-one said, “watch a movie and be the only person in the theater,” and I exclaimed (inside my head), “I’ve done that!” 🙂 it was a very exciting experience compared to my extremely boring government class.

So the big question: Does it count if it’s accidental? I think yes, but I’d like a second opinion.

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Fear Less

I recently purchased a bracelet that makes me quite happy. It is a leather band, and it has (fake) rose gold letters on it spelling out FEARLESS. This makes me very happy for multiple reasons. I’ve had problems with panic attacks in the past–and the present, now that I think of it…–and the bracelet kind of serves as a reminder that there is nothing to fear. This tactic is not always useful, but it can help. Also, I think it’s a good thing to have a little pep talk in a highly visible place on my body. You never know who’s facing down fears, who might need that message.

But then I noticed something even cooler. When the letters on the bracelet slide around a bit, a space becomes visible between the R and the L, and the message becomes FEAR LESS. I know that I could certainly fear less things. Not just with the panic attacks, but with everyday situations. How often do I think something would be fun only to hold back a part of myself? How often do I refrain from fully experiencing life because I am afraid? Things like skydiving are completely unreachable goals for me, but also going to a party with my friends. Something thousands of people do every weekend can at times be impossible for me. Because I am afraid.

Even the bravest of us have fears–it’s nearly impossible not to be afraid of something–so I’m not trying to be fearless. But I would like to fear less.

Automatic

I hate automatic flushing toilets. I hate that they take away your power of choice. I’m the kind of person who likes to get completely ready to leave the bathroom stall before flushing, and toilets that flush automatically are triggered by standing up. I don’t think men have this problem. Also, they only work half the time, and people just walk away from them. If the technology doesn’t work then there’s no point in making the effort to do it yourself. They encourage laziness in a society that’s already far too willing to let other people do their work for them. I understand that they are supposed to be more sanitary, but that’s why people started flushing toilets with their feet in the first place. Toilets spray when they flush. Flushing the second you stand up means that they spray all over you and your stuff, rather than spraying on the door when you conveniently escape right after flushing (you know, when you gather your stuff before flushing). I realize that I’m probably reading way too much into this (and not using paragraph break because I’m typing from my phone), but I’ve thought of this hatred nearly every day for the past month, at least. I hate automatic flushing toilets. They suck. Thank you for reading my rant. What do you irrationally hate, dear imaginary reader? Please, let me know.

~Tessa

P.S.- I also dislike automatic sinks (there is no way to control the temperature) and automatic paper towel dispensers (they hardly ever work for me), but I do much enjoy automatic gearshifts as I would be entirely screwed without them.