Monday, November 25, 2013

Lately I've Been..

...listening to these two songs on repeat. I can't put my finger on why, but they seem to go together.


Saturday, November 23, 2013

{Like, Love, Hate}

I did this tag almost three years ago...I glimpsed it while going through some old posts, and decided to do it quickly before reading my old answers. I wonder how I've changed.

12 Likes, 1 Love, 8 Hates.

I like chocolate milk.
I like singing harmony.
I like Dean Winchester.
I like deep, difficult questions.
I like how the bass feels in your chest at the club.
I like getting letters.
I like Batman.
I like exchanging knowing looks.
I like nightmares.
I like writing.
I like being at James's.
I like the TV show Friends.

I love... {Suddenly I'm petrified and unable to answer this question. I've only been given 1 Love. That's a lot of pressure. That's a lot of significance. That's serious.}

I hate gray area.
I hate the smell of beer.
I hate when people show me tons of Youtube videos.
I hate driving the speed limit.
I hate the show Ridiculousness.
I hate winter.
I hate feeling trapped.
I hate getting a tickle in my throat.

I'm curious as to why there's only one Love allowed, but then a bunch of Hates instead of Dislikes.

Click HERE to read my original answers. After reading them over, I've concluded two things:

1) I used to be a lot more interesting XD
2) I'll always hate feeling trapped.


Monday, November 18, 2013

Psychic Apples

All my life, I´ve read the "Betsy-Tacy" books, which is this fun series set in the early 1900s about a girl very much like me. When the girls are freshmen or sophomores in high school, they´re at a party and they play a game to reveal how a girl feels about a guy, or what´s going to happen between a certain girl and guy.

For the game, everyone eats an apple down to the core. Then you break your apple core (or a friend´s apple core) and say the name of the male to be explained. You count the seeds inside and recite this rhyme:

One, I love.
Two, I love.
Three, I love, I say.
Four, I love with all my heart.
Five, I cast away.
Six, He loves.
Seven, She loves.
Eight, They both love.
Nine, He comes.
Ten, He tarries.
Eleven, He courts.
And Twelve, he marries.

If you have more than twelve apple seeds in your core, you start over.

I love, love, LOVED playing this game with my apples when I was twelve or so. The apple was never wrong. Yes, I did love my best friend´s older brother, but did I really need an apple core to tell me that? Who knows. I guess I thought I did. I can´t remember ever getting any readings that were a revelation.

In the past couple of weeks, I´ve become obsessed with apples. I eat them all the time. They are my snack of choice, which is a lot better than chips. Unless, like, I want chips. Then I eat chips. But apples appeal to me surprisingly more often now.

Early into this college round of apple-eating obsession, I bit all the way into the core and saw some seeds and remembered this rhyme. I thought I would share it. It always makes me smile, and my stomach flutter if I ever break a core for anyone.

I did go ahead and play the game, and have been playing every time I eat an apple since. Still no revelations.

The apples know.

- Stephanie

Saturday, November 16, 2013

Fragments VIII

~ Sometimes I'm struck with sudden paranoia that someone can hear my thoughts. A stranger will give me a look of {probably unintentional} knowing, and I'm just like, "Oh my gosh. He can hear me. This is it. He's the one that books and movies talk about." However, to my knowledge, these random fits of delusion have never been accurate.

~ KoЯn's newest album, The Paradigm Shift, is really good.

~ I'm supposed to be going to see Thor today. We'll see.

~ I've seen couples on Facebook lately celebrating anniversaries or month-iversaries by posting their first picture together. Is that normal? I have no clue what pictures with anyone were my first.

~ Today
Bekah:  *nods at radiator* "Did Sam mess with your magnetic letters?"
Me:  o_o *whirls to look at letters* ... *sees expletive* "Oh no!" *knocks the F away and scrambles to find a D or a B or and L* "Saaaaam."
*we both collapse laughing*

~ Duck Dynasty makes me so happy. It's so funny and wholesome. It's one of my favorite things ever. I would like a Duck Dynasty sweatshirt, if any of you were thinking of sending me an early Christmas present. {Because I'm already certain that all of you are planning to give me timely Christmas gifts.}

~ Today I learned that it's possible to give birth to twins with different baby daddies. I don't really know how to feel about this information, but I'm pretty sure I'm fascinated and my mind is blown.

~ Dear You Know Who You Are, Dexter is back on Netflix.

~ Bekah refers to people who have one white parent and one black parent as "mixed." I haven't heard that term much, and it sounds rude and degrading to me. One of my best friends growing up had a white mom and an African-American dad. We always said she was "half-black," as did she herself. Does anyone know the preferred term for this situation? Does it depend? Is "mixed" as rude as it sounds to me?

~ Even though it's been like three years since I even remember this song was a thing, I woke up this morning with THIS playing through my head. What in the world.


Wednesday, November 13, 2013

When Stephanie Proofreads

Sure, I'll proofread your paper! I'm an English nerd; I kinda like this stuff C:

Mmmmmkay. You just used every form of there/they're/their in the same paragraph. None of them are correct. Not one time.

Then =/= Than. "Mr. Darcy was more proud then Elizabeth." I highly doubt Mr. Darcy was initially arrogant before morphing into Elizabeth.


 Okay yeah. I've read that sentence five times and I still don't know what you're saying. *deep breath* Read number six...

Oh god. You said "heroin." Heh. You just called Elizabeth Bennett a narcotic analgesic.

Awww yis. Subject-verb agreement. That's my girl.

Every time you use an apostrophe to pluralize, a kitten dies.

 Okay, okay. I can do this. I do actually like this. And I actually like this person. I can do this.

 I changed my mind. You misused "literally." I don't want to live on this planet anymore.


Tuesday, November 5, 2013

Just Another Tuesday Night


*ahem* You see, w'ha'happen wuz...

Mostly I'm just retarded. I was in a really good mood while texting a guy last week, and I agreed to have dinner with him at his apartment. I think I was maybe annoyed at someone and made the plan on purpose. {I swear, I have actually got to stop doing that.}

Honestly, though, I don't know why I said yes. I can't come up with a real explanation at all.

I'd been worried about the "dinner date" since this weekend. What if we were all alone? What if he came on to me? What if he was an actual creep? What if I was in danger? What if the food was disgusting? What if I got lost trying to find the place? What if it was awkward and I couldn't figure out how to leave?


I'd been stressing/whining to Gerard about it all day. He told me that it was probably going to be fun, but that if I felt uncomfortable or something went wrong, I just had to call him.

I was grudgingly moved by that gesture of reassurance.

I did have trouble finding the place {big surprise there}, and dinner was kinda awkward. We made fettuccine alfredo and cheese biscuits. He talks way too quietly to be heard by human ears, and is not a huge conversationalist anyway. I talked enough and was easy-going and not awkward, if I do say so myself.

He suggested we go upstairs and watch a movie while we ate. I sighed inwardly and agreed, because there was no good way around it.

We settled on The Fox and the Hound. I was glad because it was only like an hour and a half long and I still had studying to do and a lab write-up to finish.

At about 45 minutes into it, I felt arm touching my shoulder.


I actually don't know the right way to handle that. When I was thirteen I would just get up and move XD Tonight I just leaned forward, which worked for a little while, until he put his arm right around my waist and I realized I would have been better off leaning back, confining his reach to my shoulders.

Oh well. You live and learn.

Finally the movie ended at 10pm, and I heard the hallelujah chorus in my head.

I got my coat, thanked him for dinner, and headed out to the car. He said he'd walk me out. That was fine. I mean, you could literally have reached out and touched the Kia from the porch, but I appreciated the gesture.

I opened the car door and turned to hug him. We hugged, and though I didn't necessarily have reason to be wary, I kept my face turned carefully to the left, just in case...

Yeah. There were lips on my cheek.

Before I'd decided what to say, I had my hand planted gently on his chest and the sound "Uhn-uh" came out of my mouth.

"What?" he said.

I repeated the sound.

"Can I get a cheek kiss?" he asked.


"You got a boyfriend?"

", but close enough that it'd be weird."

"Alright," he said. "Well, we should still do this again sometime."

"Okay," I said. "It was fun."

And after that scene, I honestly believed the statement. Now that he'd come onto me and I'd rejected him, what else was there to fear?

Sometimes, the worst that can happen is also the best.

It wasn't until I was almost back at the dorm that my statement came flashing back into my mind:  "close enough that it'd be weird."

And I couldn't for the life of me decide what I had meant.


Sunday, November 3, 2013

A Non-Existent Character

Suddenly, everyone I know on Facebook is posting stuff about what to look for in a husband, and how to find God's match for you, and the "non-negotiable" qualities a husband must have, and what marriage is all about, and how God needs to be our everything before we look for another person.

It's getting old. Real old.

But, after reading lists of shockingly similar and almost arbitrary suggested "non-negotiable" qualities, I decided to make my own list.

Obviously, it's ridiculously specific and I do not expect to find a guy who possesses every one of these characteristics. I'm so okay with that. But I feel like this gives me something interesting to hold in my mind.

Stephanie's List of Desirable Guy Qualities (in mostly no particular order)
1. Christian
2. musician {note:  not "plays an instrument." I think playing an instrument and being a musician are different things.}
3. can dance
4. dark hair
5. good singing voice
6. likes to read
7. self-motivated
8. in good shape
9. knows what he wants to do with his life
10. knows how to make his dreams a reality
11. loves Disney
12. has a sense of irony
13. has the same sense of humor as me
14. knows when to stop
15. likes kids
16. plays a sport
17. stubborn
18. able to converse in an engaging and effective manner with people of all ages
19. a science or math person, maybe
20. likes to argue
21. pretty eyes
22. honest {includes keeping promises as well as not lying}
23. crooked smile
24. expressive eyebrows
25. will fight for those he loves
26. taller than me
27. tan
28. Having done drugs is not a problem, but he has to be morally against them now.
29. mindful of money
30. Chivalrous. Opens doors, walks a girl home/to her car/to her dorm, sits on the outside at restaurants, walks next to the road, carries stuff, pays for stuff.
31. unselfish
32. not in the military
33. cusses occasionally and artfully
34. can start a real fire
35. can tie real knots
36. good/similar taste as me in music
37. doesn't disrespect his girlfriend when talking to his friends
38. can help me with writing
39. good with directions
40. assertive
41. good grasp of grammar
42. hard-working
43. confident
44. understands me
45. patient {I'm not talking about the angelic sort of patience, but the calm, persistent kind of patience}
46. observant
47. not a Yankee
48. politically conservative
49. adventurous
50. writes letters

Anyone else interested in sharing some qualities/characteristics they look for?


Friday, November 1, 2013

Fragments VII

~ After having to go through six million posts every time I want to write a Fragments post so I'll know what number it is, I have finally created a label called "Fragments." Brilliant.

~ Carrying a case of water bottles up to my dorm room makes me Level 8 angry. More on that later.

~ The horrifying moment when I scan my Facebook newsfeed and see more girls dressing up their babies for Halloween than their pets.

~ I've always sworn I wouldn't marry someone in the military.  Don't get me wrong, I have so much respect for them. They can't be thanked and honored enough. However, I'm entirely too selfish to have a husband who's in the military. The worry, the loneliness, the moving around... No.

~ When I get really uncomfortable or worried or have to try really hard around people, my legs actually break out in hives. It's horrid.

~ An adult messaged me on Facebook the other day saying that a photo I shared "used the F- word." It took me ten full minutes of scanning and searching and clicking on photos to figure out that the aforementioned photo had come from the "I fucking love science" page. The "F- word" was not contained in the photo, but in the understated tag that gives its origin. The actual photo was hilarious and perfectly clean. I did not respond to the message. I still don't know what to say.

~ Okay, I just responded. I said "Oh, I definitely didn't notice that when I shared it! I'm very sorry."

~ I always wonder how inappropriately a student has to dress before a professor says something to her. Is there a policy? Does it depend on the professor? How would that even go?

~ Every time I hear the word "penetrate," I hear "Notttttt a good enough reason to use the word 'penetrate'" in my head.

~ I just turned in a paper that's been dominating my life for a week, and my mind for a month. Ha. Lle. Lu. Jah.

~ Spelling "hallelujah" is hard enough when it's not punctuated syllabically.

~ I think I just made up a word.

~ I think I should sleep.

~ I think PC is visiting today.

~ Actually, I'm mostly positive that he is, I just wanted to keep parallel sentence structure.

~ Stephanie