When Stephanie Wears Lipstick

Remember the Great Gatsby dance that happened a while ago? Well, before I looked absolutely smashing {right XD}, things were disastrous, especially with regard to the red lipstick.

1920's theme just demands red lipstick, which I proudly recognized the day of the dance during my last-minute Walmart run. {I definitely spent more on last-minute Crap-I-Guess-I-Kind-of-Do-Care-If-He-Thinks-I'm-Pretty stuff than I do on food for two weeks. I kid you not. I guess I do care if he thinks I'm pretty.}

However, while I did recognize the necessity of red lipstick, I was unaware that there are about a million shades of "red," and I was unaware that the wrong shade could make one look pretty horrifying.

Which resulted in me purchasing a shade that looked like this on me.

I thought it looked outrageous and scary, but I also figured it might just be the fact that I'm used to my lips being a loud shade of NUDE. However, after sending the above picture to Sarah and Cassidy, my fears were confirmed. They both forbade me to show my face looking like that.

I decided to ignore the lipstick issue and do other things, like paint my toenails and watch Netflix. Of course, the minute I left the mirror, I forgot I had on lipstick, which resulted in lipstick. getting. everywhere.

Yeah. I was pretty sure that I was just not meant to wear lipstick {ever}, but Sarah and Mom both strongly urged me to go to the makeup counter at the mall and get help.

So I walked into the nearest Belk, feeling like the goth kid on a mission at a country club, and found an official-looking woman. I eloquently explained my predicament to her:

"Hey. I have a 20's themed dance tonight and I need a shade of red lipstick that doesn't look horrifying on me."

She looked at me kind of funny, but told me to sit down and she'd help me. She had an accent.

"I'm goink to show you a treek so you don't have to wipe off every time. O-kay?" She turned to a veritable drawer of lipstick tubes. "You're want a like a RICH red. O-kay."

She set five or six tubes on the counter and said, "Hold our your fingers. Facing up."

I gave her my hand and she marked each of my fingertips with a different lipstick. "Now holt each one up to your leeps in the mirror and see which a one you like a before you try on."

At least, NOW I know that's what she said. At the time, I was too busy staring blankly at my hand to hear her.

Okay, I KNOW these are different colors, I thought firmly. I WATCHED her use different tubes of lipstick. They look different in the tubes...

But thinking that didn't help. The bloody smears on my fingers looked exactly identical to each other. I felt like a total male.

I looked up at her and she repeated her statement about looking in the mirror with my fingers to my lips.

"Oh." I turned toward the vanity mirror to do what she said.

Guys, I don't know if you've ever tried this, but it is ridiculously difficult to turn your fingers like that. Just try it. Palm facing out, imagine you have lipstick smudges on your fingertips. Put your fingernail against your lips, one finger at a time. Don't even bother trying to get your ring finger without the pinky.

Yeah. So, that was awkward. And guess what? The colors looked exactly the same in the mirror, too, and I was pretty sure they also all looked like the original, horrifying shade I was trying to replace. But here I was, in this chair at Belk, with the judgmental foreign lady staring me down.

"Um, this one," I said, wiggling my pointer finger. {And what if I'd liked the one on my middle finger?}

She applied Pointer Tube to my lips. {If you ever danced as a child, you know that having someone apply lipstick on you is an awkward and frustrating thing for both parties.} When she was done, I looked in the mirror. She told me that was my shade.

It wasn't. It looked terrible.

Of course, how could I really be the judge of that? Clearly I was colorblind.

Still, I looked at the tubes rather than my fingertips and selected a deeper, less bright tube to work with. Makeup Lady went to help another customer.

This second, deeper shade also looked ridiculous on me, but I snapped a picture with my phone and sent it to Mom. She happily replied that it was my shade. When Makeup Lady returned to me, she also told me that it was my shade.

"That a one's gonna look the best on you," she said.

As opposed to the first one you said was "my shade"? I thought sarcastically. But whatever. I had the OK from Mom, and I was finished try to be a girl for the day.

When Makeup Lady rang up the lipstick {declaring that she was not the kind of saleslady who would tell me something looked good just to make a sale}, the cash register said over $30. Despite the fact that that's my grocery budget for like two weeks, I forked over the cash so I could gtfo of that store asap XD

Moral of this story:  I'm not sure. Girls can be colorblind too? Don't trust makeup salesladies? Always ask your mom? Keep a savings account for unwanted beauty necessities?

Maybe it's "Even Stephanie will do girly things if she likes a guy enough."

*shrug* We'll go with that.

~Stephanie

So Gem and I...

So, this happened:  "The Great Gatsby" themed spring formal with Gem, whom I've decided to give a Blogger label. So yeah. It's getting serious.

He looks weird in this picture.

Or maybe I'm just trying to find things that were wrong about that night, because really, it throws a good cynic for a loop when an evening turns out perfectly.

{Although cynicism aside, I totally do look bow-legged.}

He picked me up in a full white tuxedo, complete with a top hat and cane. Despite his efforts to warn me of his extravagance, I was still taken by surprise.

Once in the car, he asked if I was hungry yet.

"Here's the thing," I said. "I have a tendency to not get hungry, so we should probably not wait for that to happen."

"Well," he countered. "Remember how I don't get hungry when I'm nervous? Yeah. So me neither."

"Sooo...why don't we just...not waste money on food neither of us is going to eat?"

"OH!" he exclaimed suddenly. "I have an idea. I am not going to tell you what it is. Can you handle a surprise?"

I said I could.

We talked nonstop til he pulled into a Walmart parking lot. He looked at me. "We're going on a quest to find lemon-poppy seed muffins."

This guy. I'm pretty into his style.

Don't forget, we were dressed to the freakin' nines in 1920s get-up. He offered me his arm and we strutted through Walmart, counting the compliments we received. {Four total.}

We ate our muffins in the car and talked and talked and talked. So much talking. I found out that he's a morning person; handles cold better than hot; and used to be a government nerd.

As the time approached to actually go to the dance, I confessed that I had never been to one of Campbell's dances and I was afraid it might be lame.

"No!" he said. "We'll make it fun! But no seriously, if it sucks, I brought my laptop so we can just leave and watch Doctor Who."

My mouth fell open. "I was just getting ready to tell you that if it's lame we can go back to the dorm and watch Netflix."

Great minds, I suppose.

The dance did not, in fact, suck. The decorations were perfectly Gatsby-esque and the music was mostly good and I saw a lot of people I knew. And Gem. Gem was awesome.

One of the first things he told me upon arrival:  "I don't want you leaving this dance wishing we'd danced more."

It was like fireworks in my heart XD Words and dancing are my love languages.

I was pleased to find out that he is a confident, fun dancer, one of those people who can do any move without it seeming embarrassing or forced. Once, he went into the middle of a dancing circle and did that Russian move, where you squat and pop your legs out XD Even though he did it well, it was hilarious and everyone cheered.

Then slow dancing happened. I don't like slow dancing. It feels stilted and awkward and it's basically a nightmare for someone who hates eye contact. Gem's and my slow dance wasn't the worst ever, but it was far from comfortable to me. We talked some, about fire fairies and eye colors and probably something else, but I was too busy trying not to breathe muffin breath on him to focus.

When the dance was over, he looked me square in the eyes and said, "Guess what? I'm not gonna ask."

And he kissed me.

He completely surprised me, and then I surprised myself by not minding. Actually, it really broke a barrier between us and we both seemed more at ease for the rest of the dance. His style once again reminded me that it's possible to be fun and sexy without being raunchy. Sometimes I forget that.

When we got back to Campbell, a lot more talking happened, which I loved. The more I get to know him the more I can be myself. I was afraid the opposite might be true, but it just isn't.

I changed into sweatpants and we watched two episodes of Doctor Who in the back of the Kia, under a sleeping bag Gem had in his trunk. I felt really safe and comfortable and happy. I didn't realize how much I'd missed that feeling.

"I watch so much Netflix," I confessed at one point. "Since giving up Facebook for Lent, Netflix is my procrastination tool of choice."

"Jeez, Stephanie," Gem said. "Get a life. You need a boyfriend or something."

"Yeah?" I said. "Do you need a girlfriend?"

"I think so."

"Huh. Maybe we can help each other."

So yeah, I guess it's official :) It is a weird situation for me.

See, I'm Gem's first everything. I was his fist date, his first kiss, and now his first girlfriend. I'm used to being the inexperienced one with all the firsts, having a guy lead--and lead very well. PC did me wrong in a lot of ways, but I will say that looking back, he was a good teacher of sorts. His style never made me feel awkward about my inexperience. As creepy as it might sound, I hope I can do as well with Gem, leading in the subtlest and most reassuring of ways.

When we said goodbye, Gem went for a cheek kiss but faked me out and got a real on. He makes me laugh.

Since the night of the dance, several things have unfolded, and all in the best ways possible. I'm increasingly glad--though ever-wary--to be dating him. For the first times ever this week, I've been, like, missing him, wanting to see him. If I go home before Easter, it'll be because of him.

Guys, I am luckier than I deserve.

Thanks for putting up with an uncharacteristically sappy post XD

 ~Stephanie

The Person Formerly Known as "UB"

Written March 4

"UB."

It's a really stupid nickname/codename/contact name and I hate it. It stands for "Unicorn Boy" and I made it up specifically to annoy him. It's from an inside joke involving a jacket that echoes Dean Winchester.

I stand {sit} before you to produce a new and more seemly codename, should it be needed in the near future.

I'm gonna go with "Gem." {Maybe it seems a little feminine, but trust me, it makes sense, and it sounds enough like "Jim" that it can be masculine. Right? Whatever XD}

In the past couple of months, I've gone on several first dates because a good friend convinced me that they have the potential to be really rewarding.

I have enjoyed {almost} all of my dates. However, I haven't looked forward to a single one. I agree to go out with a guy, then spend the days before the date glaring at myself in the mirror and muttering "Why would you do this to yourself?"

I am kind of a hopeless unromantic.

But as I type this on March 4th, there is a date that I'm actually looking forward to. I started shaking when he asked me. And then I did this horrid, inhuman squeal thing as I went into the next room to tell Cassidy. {Sorry again for that, Cass.}

Of course, he told me that he literally jumped for joy when I said Yes, and I have no reason to doubt him.

Yes the date is with Gem, this sexy-armed Lord of the Rings nerd from senior year who writes me long letters and does somersaults at school dances.

I always remember this spontaneous debate we had in theology class. It was a head-versus-heart discussion, where he argued for the heart and I for the head. I think that argument has caused me to rethink my stubborn ways more than anything else.

I never expected him to like me back. I've had kind of "intellectual feelings" for him for a long time. Mostly I kept them tucked in the back of my mind, to think about whenever convenient. I always had several other girls in mind that I thought he'd be cute with, so I didn't seriously consider myself a candidate for longer than ten minutes at a time.

But he said it himself, over the phone: "I really like you, and I would like to go on a date with you."

I'm pretty sure I do like him. I think I knew weeks ago when he said "I'm not going anywhere anytime soon" and my heart erupted in little fireworks.

If you're reading this, the date on March 7th went well, and I have decided that giving him a new nickname is worth the time.

Here's to getting to know Gem a little better :)

~Stephanie

S A

I'm procrastinating. To get the Baptist scholarship, I have to write an essay by April Fool's Day. However, since I don't have a lot to do this week {my spring break}, I have vowed to write the essay this week. Today. Before I rise again from this kitchen chair. Sooo yeah.

And I'm giving up Facebook for Lent, so I can't use that to procrastinate. So I'm really thinking outside the box here. I'm BLOGGING. Ohhhhh. Yeah.

*sigh* Really, this essay isn't going to be that terrible. It only has to be 400 words long and tell about my Campus Ministry. Who's the minister, what do they do, and how has campus ministry impacted me? {Honestly, not much, and about half the experiences have been negative.}

I really think a lot of my campus minister though. Her name is Faithe Beam, and she's one of the warmest, most genuine, and fun-spirited people I've ever met.  Campbell University students gather every Wednesday for "Connections," and she often introduces the speakers.  Reverend Beam also taught my Introduction to Christianity class. She made the course personal and informative. Instead of adding stress, the class became more of a time of reflection and learning.

Reverend Beam also helps counsel students. Freshman year, one of my good friends was subjected to some ridiculous, spiteful drama from her roommate. Reverend Beam met and spoke with my friend on several occasions, and gave her advice that my friend still uses and passes on today. Actually, through word of mouth, I've benefited from some of Reverend Beam's advice, even though I've never met with her one-on-one.

I did meet with my resident chaplain once, though. Her name was Amy Adams. I mostly don't ever ask official people for counsel {or at least that used to be the case}. I'll pick the brains of my friends and family all day, but making an appointment? That's for people who can't handle their own shit.

Well, when PC and I broke up, I could not handle my own shit. So I met with Amy. She mostly just listened to my story and in the end, I felt better about the situation. In talking to her and getting some affirmation, I realized that I wasn't so crazy, hopeless, or inept. She gave me some practical advice that I later tried to apply. {I mean, I failed, but it was practical and I did try.}

As far as the more traditional side of campus ministry {events and worship and such}, I haven't had a lot of experience. But you can tell that Reverend Beam's spirit of warmth and acceptance sets the tone for the whole thing.

Freshman year, I attended an annual event called "One Night." All the different campus ministry groups meet together for a night of worship and spiritual revival. I couldn't find anyone to go with me, so I went alone. The experience would have been a lot less awkward and more fun if people had broken apart from their precious little cliques, but the atmosphere was still good. Music swelled; voices soared; hands rose. The Holy Spirit descended for sure.

I should get involved in SOMETHING campus ministry has to offer. It can't possibly ALL be snotty and superficial.

*shrug* At least I like Reverend Beam.

Huh. This post is 547 words long. I bet you I can use some of it in this essay.

Awww, I see what you did there. You sneaky little beyotch.

Yeah? Good job. Now go write.

Fine.

~Stephanie

True

I think it was last year that Natalie posted about picking one word as her theme for the year. I wanted to do the same, but I was at a total loss as to what word to pick. This year, it comes to me with the blissful ease of a smile.

True.

I want Twenty-Fourteen to be full of truth. I want to speak truth to others. I want to surround myself with others who speak truth.

But even more than just avoiding falsehoods, I want to be true to myself, and surround myself with people who do the same. I want to be true to my Creator. I want to be true to the big picture. I want twenty-fourteen to be a very clear, bright, real year. Like diamonds and good teeth.

There is nothing as arresting as seeing someone's true colors, someone's true state of being, unveiled. I suppose there are times when that's a positive thing, like learning that Bruce Wayne is Batman {spoiler alert}, but in my experience, that sort of disillusionment is brutal and disappointing.

I want to avoid that in twenty-fourteen. I want to seek truth from the beginning, and not stop until I'm sure I've found it. I'm apparently very good at discerning truth; I just don't give myself enough credit.

I'm excited for twenty-fourteen :) I'm so ready to shed the tired, raw skin of twenty-thirteen. Twenty-fourteen will be better; I'm sure of it. I'm going to see that it is. I'm going to live with True as my theme.

I expect that it will set me free.

~Stephanie

A Paradigm Shift?

Last year it was Night Visions by Imagine Dragons. The year before was Ceremonials by Florence + the Machine. The year before that was Dead by April's self-titled album. This year? I'm struggling.

In the next few days, I need to buy my annual new album with the iTunes money I got over Christmas. This album will color my first few weeks of my spring sophomore year. It will affect what I write and how I write. It will give a different taste to whatever books I read. It will set the mood for the new year.

This is a big decision. I have to choose carefully. Something different enough that I don't get bored; something likable enough that I don't regret the purchase; something sad enough to draw me out; something powerful enough not to drag me down; something deep enough to touch my soul; something shallow enough to excite me.

This is the first year I've intentionally sought out an album. Night Visions, Ceremonials, and Dead by April just kind of happened. I probably should have done the same thing this year, it's just that I actually don't know what to buy. Korn's newest album, The Paradigm Shift, is the album I've been waiting to buy, but I'm not sure if that's the album I want defining my new year.

Although I dunno, maybe it is XD

Huh. Maybe it is.

OneRepublic's Native is also in my sights, but their songs all tend to sound the same.

Do y'all do anything like this? Do you seek out albums to start off your new year?

If you've found an album recently that you love, I'm very open to suggestions!

~Stephanie

Day 1: Story of My Life

In May, Alana did the Blog-Every-Day Challenge. Though you couldn't guess it from the way I blog, I do actually love the idea of blogging consistently. Considering that fact, plus the facts that I've been low on inspiration and high on other things to do, I've decided to do the same challenge in June.

How have I kidded myself into thinking I can do that? Well, this Challenge comes with prompts for every day :D Woo! Completely original inspiration is barely necessary {unless I want to write something good that people will actually like. And who cares about that?}.

Day 1: The story of your life in 250 words/a paragraph.

I was born with my eyes open. Much earlier than "normal" children, I learned to talk, mostly so I could metaphorically bludgeon everyone around me with the words "Why" and "I know." I grew up with a powerful imagination, an anathema to change, a passion for learning, and a rigid belief in a world of absolutes.

When I was five, my dad planted a new community church, respectfully leaving the traditional institution he’d pastored for years. Had he not done that, I would have become an unbearably warped, rebellious teen.

The next ten years were an emotional collage of demanding an older brother, writing more words than most children read, dancing, trying to perform magic, growing my hair out to my waist, FIRE FAIRIES, being afraid of food poisoning, trying to become president, starting a singing group, and kicking ass in debate. Not necessarily in that order.

I had lots of friends, but didn’t realize how shallow the relationships were until I met Cassidy and Sam.

We moved to our current, really-nice house when I was fifteen. The move happened almost simultaneously with meeting Sam, beginning my friendship with Cassidy, and genuinely growing up—thus beginning a new era.

The next four years were an explosive wad of masochism, blogging, first love, true friendship, going to Europe, getting my license, loving dance, going off to college, meeting God, and wondering why no one told me life was gonna be this way {CLAP CLAP CLAP CLAP}.

Pretty much in that order.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
{250 words exactly. I’m pretty impressed.}

Graduation Party

I'm going to try to get back into blogging every day. But I don't have any posts scheduled, so that means I have to ACTUALLY BLOG EVERY DAY. And right now, I have ten minutes until it's not today anymore. So this is going to be rather...pathetic.

Tonight was my graduation party, and it was awesome. It was like prom, but a lottttttttt more fun and I wore a shirt with a tiger on it. I had more friends who would dance with me, and Sam didn't have food poisoning, which is always a good thing.

In fact...

BAD THINGS ABOUT TONIGHT:

~ A mom chewed me out for not wearing a dress D: I did wear shorts and a nice top, so I didn't think it'd be a big deal. But to her it was. Sorry, Emma's Mom.

~ I haven't decided if I think I was really obnoxious yet. I was pretttttttty caffeinated.

~ They couldn't play "Low." Apparently it's inappropriate. Pshh....no... >.>

GOOD THINGS ABOUT TONIGHT:

~ I love my tiger shirt and shorts XD They are comfortable and I like them.

~ People would dance!

~ You COULD dance to this music.

~ Sam wasn't sick.

~ No drama.

~ I had a lot of energy. {Maybe a good thing. Haven't decided if I was obnoxious or not.}

~ We went to Wendy's afterwards.

It was so fun. I know this post was really kind of halfassed and I'll probably elaborate later, but it is now 11:59, so if i don't push "Publish," I fail as a blogger.

I made that up. It's not true. I'm still pretty awesome.

But yeah. *hits "Publish"*

~ Stephanie

May I?

:3 Hi. Sorry. I'm here. I haven't felt like blogging lately, so I haven't. Sometimes I get a good idea, but I just start the post, save it as a draft and go do other things. It may be a self-discipline issue. In fact, I'm pretty much positive that it is XD

Life has been good lately. Kind of. It seems good to me right now, as I write this, although if I survey things carefully, I remember a bunch of times where I've freaked out about various things.

May was full. Fullllllllllllllllll. There were hardly two days together where I didn't have something going on. In fact, I wonder if there were. I'm curious now. You may not be, and that's fine, but I think I'm going to look into my calendar/memory and see exactly what went down in May.

May 4: Leadercast {an all-day conference}

May 5: See "The Avengers" with Kirsten, James, and Sam

May 7: Leave for the beach

May 8-11: Beeeeeach

May 11: Go see Radio Reds

May 12: Prom

May 13: Mothers' Day

May 16: Try to get graduation announcements done...fail.

May 17: Try again...fail.

May 18: Dance recital; try to get graduation announcements...third failure.

May 19: Major dance recital

May 20: Dance recital; watch Adventure Time with Sam; try and succeed in getting graduation announcements done

May 22: Watch "Clue" with Cassidy

May 24: Sam and I play Go-Fish at Starbucks

May 25: Performance company party; Daddy's birthday

May 26: My graduation; Sam's graduation

May 27: "The Avengers" with friends; Sam comes over

May 28: Memorial Day lake party; Sam comes over

May 29: Sam comes over

May 30: Get graduation presents for friends; trampoline park with Sam

May 31: Ellie's graduation

So yeah. Wow. May was intense. June? It's gonna be intense also. And I'm loving almost every minute of it.

Senior summer here I come.

~Stephanie

Graduation

Thanks for following, Lisa and Jessie!

Today, I graduate high school. Today is the official end of an era and the theoretical beginning of a new one.

My classes have been finished for over a month now, so the ceremony feels a little disconnected from my actual high school career. All the same, it's a big milestone, and something to add to my list of "Noteworthy Personal Events" in my Twenty-Twelve journal.

{You have my permission to laugh.}

I'd feel a lot better about graduating if I had solid college plans for the fall though XD I tell you, I never imagine myself in a position like this. Absolutely not. All my life I assumed I would apply to Wake Forest, get accepted, and go. No gap year. No community college. Nothing but a smooth transition to Wake Forest in the fall of 2012.

Well, that's not gonna happen XD I just have to believe that it's not happening for a reason. Hopefully I'll see that reason sooner rather than later.

But ANYWAY, happy graduation to me and a lot of my friends! I still haven't gotten any of your presents {except for Sam's} and when I do they will probably be lame because I suck at gifts!

Yeah. I'm gonna...go...now.

~Stephanie

Five-Oh

Today, my dad turns 50 :O

My dad and I used to be really close. Like he was one of my best friends and probably my favorite person in the world. But for some reason over the past couple of years we've started to become distant. I barely ever see him now; he has a lot of meetings to go to, and I'm gone more evenings than I'm home. {A license will do that, I'm beginning to realize.}

His memory and hearing have also gotten worse than EVER, so even when we do talk it's pretty much just an endless stream of frustration and impatience from me.

When we do talk, it's mostly about my not doing chores or not putting forth enough effort to get into Wake Forest. {Both are quite legitimate complaints on his part.}

Earlier this week, we scheduled a trip to Wake Forest and my mom couldn't go. So it would be just me and my dad in the car alone together for an hour and a half. I wasn't dreading it or anything, but I wasn't particularly happy about it either.

We went out to the car and he got in the passenger seat. Alright then, guess I was driving.

I made a playlist of Coldplay and Florence + the Machine and we drove for a while.

Then suddenly--and I'm literally not even sure how this came about--we started talking. We skipped every form of small talk and surface chatter and went straight and sure into the deep stuff I'm dealing with.

My lack of motivation in life

My apathy towards all hobbies except dance

My secret hiatus from Christianity

My desire to live without boundaries

My fear of being a bad role model

All of that was thrown right out in the open, willingly, by me. I'm not sure what happened, but suddenly I was talking about all that, in a low, even voice.

Daddy: "Wow. I've been feeling the exact same way."

...

I'm sorry, what?

Suddenly we were equals. It wasn't liked talking to my pastor or my teacher or even my father. It was like talking to a new friend. He didn't have all the answers, and for once in my life he was being totally open about that. He wasn't even PRETENDING to know what was up in order to help me through my crises.

It was almost unnerving. My perfect dad was telling me that he sometimes wanted out of this life; that he was fed up and didn't always feel like being a Christian; that he could understand why people got drunk.

Daddy: "...I probably shouldn't have said that >.> *laughs*"

Me: "Maybe not. But I think it would have been worse not to."

We talked about not wanting to do ANYTHING, not even NOTHING.

We talked about running away and living on a farm and growing food and that's all.

We talked about why we think God exists.

We talked about wanting to get away from your own self.

I even brought up this idea I've been having for a while: moving out and renting a house with friends.

Me: "Like with Cassidy and Sam...and Daniel or something..."

Expected reaction: "Hm, that's probably not the best idea. Especially you and Sam."

Actual reaction: "That would be AWESOME! In fact, I know a neighborhood that would be really cool to do that in. ...wanna go see it?"

Me: "Wh--I mean, yes!"

So we actually did that. We drove to this neighborhood near the college that I'll probably end up going to for a year and looked around. It's kind of awesome. Old and small and borderline-sketchy.

Daddy: "This is the perfect kind of place to rent a house like that. It would be so cool. I mean, the electricity would be temperamental and the plumbing wouldn't work right..."

Me: "Yeah! That actually sounds fun to me...hilarious 2AM stories and freaking out trying to fix things ourselves..."

Daddy: "Right?!"

It actually took him a little while to realize that it's weird for girls and guys to live together like that {especially when two of them are dating and one of them is his daughter}. He was genuinely disappointed when his sense of morality came back and he realized this.

Daddy: "Well dang. Maybe you could get houses NEXT to each other. That would still be cool."

We never exactly solved anything the whole car ride. We didn't come to a great conclusion about why we're dissatisfied with life, or why I should resume my life as a Christian, or how I should rent a house, or why I should try extra hard to get into Wake Forest.

We actually didn't even talk to anyone at Wake Forest, which was the entire point of the trip. The whole admissions staff was on retreat. But I'm almost positive that the reason Daddy and I drove to Wake Forest had nothing to do with my college future. God had something much more important in mind to fix.

He brought one of my best friends back into my life :) No, he introduced me to a totally new one. I love my dad, and I used to think he was great, but I've never felt so able to express myself to him than I did that Tuesday afternoon. I never stopped loving him, but now I LIKE him again. He's back to being a person that I would intentionally spend time with and tell things to.

Thanks for being so...awesome, Daddy. I love you. And happy fiftieth birthday!

~Stephanie

Senior Prom

The Cast of Senior Prom

Starring:

YOURS TRULY, OF COURSE.

Cassidy - my best friend

Sam - my boyfriend

Daniel - my brother

David - my brother

Rose - David's girlfriend

Kirsten - my pretty-much-second-best-friend

James - Kirsten's pretty-much-boyfriend

Gabe - awesome guy from class

Meredith - Cassidy's friend

Tori - this chick I dislike

Brandon - Tori's boyfriend

Emma - Tori's slave

Emily - Tori's friend

Curtis - Emily's date (boyfriend?)

Last year's prom was not that great for me. My dress was not my favorite, my hair uncurled completely before dinner even began, the music was horrible, and the whole thing had a pretty tough act to follow. {I'd had a great time sophomore year.}

This year, senior prom, was a huge deal to me and all my girl friends. We agreed that senior prom is pretty much the most important day until your wedding. Being myself, I wanted everything to be perfect. Perfect.

My mom reminded me that NOTHING is ever perfect, and the best thing I can do is decide to have a good time no matter what. I tried to take that advice to heart as May 12th rapidly approached.

The whole week before prom was the senior beach trip. Because of that, all the girls were slightly paranoid as we went around having fun.

"We canNOT get sunburned."

"GUYS, I'M GETTING A ZIT!"

"Oh jeez. Now I have a bikini strap tan line! My dress only has one strap!"

"I'm not gonna fit INTO my dress!"

"Let's do core exercises and try to work off all this fooooood..."

Add to all that fretting the fact that I still hadn't made a hair appointment, even though hair for senior prom was really, really important to me. I hadn't been happy with my hair the first two years I went to prom, and senior year had to be PERFECT.

And yet it was the day before prom and I still hadn't done anything about it.

Ahaha. I'm such a retard. My solution to being stressed about things tends to be, "Don't even attempt! Just pretend to ignore it and give yourself stomach ulcers while it constantly plagues your consciousness!"

But somehow, the first place my mom and I walked into on Saturday morning had an open appointment. I explained to the lady what I wanted, and she got busy.

I was pretty nervous the whole time, partly because she kept saying, "Oh lawd, I don't know what I'm doin'" and partly because she was braiding my hair in a way that made me look like a Fraulein Helga.

But it turned out kind of amazing. I was incredibly happy :)

Then I had to get home and do makeup and nails and put on the dress.

Nails: Black with white tips.

Makeup: Actually a bit lighter than usual, with gray eyeshadow.

Dress: Oh guys. The dress.

I kind of loved my dress. A lot. I never saw one I liked better. I scoured malls and stalked pictures and scanned prom, but I never saw a dress I liked better than mine :) It was an amazing feeling, and one I'd never had before.

As I finished putting on my makeup, my mom stuck her head in and said with an amused look on her face, "Sam's already here."

Me: "What?! Well. I told you he'd be early."

{In case any of you knew me back when I ~Carpe Diem~'d, I'll tell you that this Sam is, in fact, the "Cavender" I went to prom with sophomore year XD}

I finished getting ready on time and went upstairs. We took pictures, picked up Cassidy and her friend, and went to the designated Pretty Outdoor Place Where You Take Group Prom Pictures. That was mostly a fail because none of us wanted to take pictures and we only ended up with, like, one picture with everyone looking good.

Next stop, Macaroni Grill. The food was good and the friends were fun.

We arrived at prom earlier than I ever have before: only thirty minutes after the official beginning.

Honestly, the actual prom part of prom wasn't good. I think the music was better than last year, but it was still bad. We all danced a little bit at the beginning {Sam kinda taught me salsa XD}, but when we stepped outside to get fresh air, things went a little downhill.

Sam was obviously having the farthest thing from a good time. I figured it was because of the bad music and awkward atmosphere. I didn't like those things either, but I still wanted to make the best of it and wait it out. Proms for me tend to improve as the nights go on. It takes me an unfortunate length of time to loosen up and have fun.

Much of prom was spent sitting at a table outside, trying to dance with my friends, or standing alone. I wanted to dance at least once with Sam, but he wouldn't take the hints. When four of my friends tried independently to make him dance with me, it graduated from missing hints to actually not wanting to dance with me. It took my friend Gabe coming over and saying, "DANCE WITH YOUR GIRLFRIEND. NOW. DO IT. NOW." to make it happen.

Eventually I decided to shut off the valve of sadface emotions and go dance with my friends. Things got a lot better when I just went for it and embraced whatever happened. After a minute Sam came and danced with us too.

I found out the next day that Sam felt like crap at prom, which explained a lot. I knew there had to be more to the situation. I wish I'd known earlier though.

After the dance, we went bowling. That was probably the most fun part of the night. Kirsten was a BEAST at bowling, which none of us--including her--knew before. The music at the bowling ally was ten times better than it had been at prom. We danced some.

A little after 2am, we called it a night and went our separate ways. I was really, really, really tired for Mother's Day the next day XD

Senior prom was a night to remember. It wasn't perfect, and a lot of times it wasn't actually that fun, but it was at least my best-looking prom XD I'm not torn up about it now. It's all good.

The moment you've all been waiting for...PICTURES. Captions on the bottom.

Me and Sam

We matched :3 I've always wanted to do that.

This makes me laugh every time I see it. He hates needles a lot. And I didn't know what I was doing XD

Me and my best friend, Cassidy :D Our dresses almost kind of matched.

This prettttty much describes the three of us XD

My mom, Sam, me, Daddy. I just realized I have zero pictures of me and my sister :((((((

This is what most of the group pictures came out like XD

Not bad.

James, Kirsten, Sam, me, Daniel, Cassidy, David.

The WHOLE group.

Curtis, Emily, Brandon, Tori, Emma, James, Kirsten, Sam, me, Daniel, Cassidy, David, Meredith

Well, we weren't gonna go bowling in our prom dresses XD

Emma, me, and Kirsten doing part of "the Wobble."

~Stephanie

Italy

Guess what, guys.

My family is going to Italy. For two weeks.

{I realize that this is April 1st, and so this post will probably not be taken seriously, but it's actually true. I will confirm this fact at a later date, if you wish.}

My dad has never been to Europe, my mom has never been out of the country, and my sister has never been farther than Illinois. This has been one of my parents' dreams basically forever. And now it's finally happening.

I can't wait to be back in Italy. The food, the people, the culture, the history, the ruins, the weather, the water, the mountains...

And I can't wait to show my family stuff! I feel like a tour guide, someone with an inside scoop. It's so weird and awesome how I know things that my parents don't XD

But anyway, we'll be gone from April 14-27, so I'll be taking a Pandora-'cation for those couple of weeks. I'll miss you guys, but I'll have, like, Italian stuff instead, so I'll probably be okay.

Ahaha. I'm so mean.

Ciao :)

~Stephanie

Alicia

I can't remember if I've ever talked about my friend Alicia, like maybe when I posted journal entries from the Europe trip. If I didn't, or if you weren't reading back then, I'll tell you about her now.

She's from Oregon and we met the first night in Spain. We were roommates.

My first thought: "She looks weird and she's probably going to hate me because I'm feeling cranky and homesick and will not be a lot of fun. Oh well. At least this is just for one night."

Only then I got paired with her for our homestay, and ended up being with her for three days straight in a tiny Spanish apartment with a family that spoke no English. And guess what?

We became best friends.

The whole rest of the trip, it was "Stephanie and Alicia." We sat together, ate together walked together, shopped together. We told each other secrets and used each others' hotel rooms if one of us got paired with a weird roommate. She saw me laugh, cry, cuss, panic, learn, go off on people, make amends, try new foods, and do scary things.

I became closer to her in three weeks than I'd become with anyone {besides Cass} in my whole life. It's amazing what tense situations can do for bonding. They accelerate it 150%.

Having the luck I do with relationships, I didn't become best friends with anyone from my state. Of course not. That would be too easy. No, I had to become best friends with a girl who lives 2,810 miles away. That's 47 hours.

Of course.

We parted ways the last day of the trip. Neither of us cried. We'd known it was coming. It sucked, but we had to walk away. I neatly retracted my heart and told her 'bye. We said we'd see each other again, but I didn't really believe that. People make promises like that all the time; they mean them in the moment, but eventually someone doesn't care anymore and the promise dissolves.

But guess what?

That didn't happen O_O

And now she's coming here, to my state, to my town, to my very own house, and she's gonna live with us for a week.

I don't even think it's sunk in yet. I've known for about a month that yes, it is actually happening, but...I still feel sort of numb to the whole thing :) My head is excited though :D

So, don't expect to see me around much until this time next week. I have posts scheduled for every day, but I won't be commenting :)

Send a virtual wave and greeting to Alicia!

~Stephanie

It's Not Supposed to Feel Like This

It's not supposed to feel like this.

Hearing my parents say, "We'll support you whatever you decide" isn't supposed to be the most terrifying thing I've ever heard.

Getting Wait Listed at the only university I've passionately pursued for seven years isn't supposed to feel okay.

Getting accepted to a school three and a half hours away that I'd never previously heard of and whose colors are purple and freaking orange isn't supposed to feel like...a possibility?

Six months ago, wanting to go to Wake Forest was the surest decision I'd ever made. I was positive. I felt great about it. I loved the campus; I loved the students I met; I loved the educational philosophy.

Both my parents went to Wake. It has a dance program. It has a law school. It's near my amazing dance teacher's branch of the studio, and she's already said she'd hire me part time if I go to Wake.

It's close to my family, my church, my town, and my friends.

There was hardly a decision to make. I wanted to go to Wake Forest. I told everyone. EVERYONE knows. Everyone thought I could get in.

But then a few months ago, I heard about Furman. It's basically "the Wake Forest of SC." Same philosophy, apparently a beautiful campus, and the professors are supposed to be more interesting than Wake's.

As soon as I heard about Furman, I didn't want to hear any more. I never wanted to hear the name "Furman" again. I got this terrible feeling that it would be a good school for me. And suddenly I had to consciously not think about it so that Wake could keep it's place in my mind and heart.

But for some reason, I applied to both Wake Forest AND Furman.

A week or so ago, I got accepted to Furman.

Last Saturday, I got Wait Listed at Wake Forest.

They tell you to keep submitting stuff to Wake, maybe go for another interview, and we actually talked to the provost emeritus. He's on my side. He's gonna "make some inquiries" for us.

But the thing is, I don't find out if I got accepted off their Waiting List until AFTER May 1. Guess when I have to tell Furman if I accept their admission? May 1.

So right here, right now, I have to make a choice. Do I go where I've dreamed, prayed, wished, wanted, KNOWN to go for so long? Or do I throw out all my plans and plunge into this newcomer school that captured my sixth sense somehow?

My parents will support me in whatever decision I make. And for once in my life, I wish they'd just tell me what to do.

~Stephanie

Dance Competition

Hey, That Girl XD Thanks for following!

Saturday:

I was pretty nervous about my solo. If I forget the dance, I'm alone and screwed. If I do badly, there's no one to cover me up. Plus there were all kinds of things that might go wrong, like the floor being different from what I was used to, the stage being bigger/smaller/oddly shaped, not getting the counts right, etc.

But by 7:50, thirteen minutes before I went on, I had pulled myself completely together. That's the thing about me: I might be vomiting from nerves two hours before, but right before a big event, I get very confident and collected and focus on chilling other people out. This was no different.

Right before I went on, I got briefly, extremely nervous again. But then I walked on stage and didn't have the mental space for panic.

The dance went alright. It wasn't BAD, but it was not great. I messed up the counts, despite constantly practicing the day before, and didn't let my body fall the way it was supposed to a couple of times. The girls said I did well though, and I didn't actually see myself, so I guess I'll have to trust them.

The awards rolled around not too much later, and I did about how I expected. I got 7th place among solos, and first in my category, BUT the category had like four people in it XD So that doesn't mean much.

Still, it wasn't a terrible experience like I expected. It wasn't amazing, but hey, I have another day tomorrow, so it could get a lot better.

Or a lot worse. Hm.

Although, I'm not sure it can get worse than the trophy I won today XD

Yup.

Sunday:

Sunday was definitely better for my nerves because I was dancing in groups. No more solo action. I've discovered that I like dancing with people MUCH more than alone. It's such an energy bond. You have energy, you feed off their energy, and you just end up feeling unstoppable.

The first dance I had was hip hop. I was the least worried about it. I know the dance, I love the dancers, and it's so much fun. We performed, and I felt good about my part. When you know the dance really well, you can focus on making an impression on the judges XD Love it.

I was most nervous about the contemporary dance, which we did next. I don't know if I've complained about Riley here before, but I'm going to now.

She showed up so late to the competition that our dance had to be skipped and moved to a later time. We were still running through the building to get backstage as the announcer said, "And number 425, Jet Plane."

Riley then had the nerve not to do the dance. As in, she literally sat on the stage for part of the dance and didn't do the moves. As I was doing our floor part, I saw her out of the corner of my eye, just sitting there, not going to the floor with the rest of us.

I messed up the end of the dance though, so :3

When we got off the stage, our teacher, Mrs. Lauren was like, "That was probably the worst you guys have ever done it."

But somehow, the dance came in 9th out of 12, and the hip hop one came in 10th. We think there must have been a judge who was down on hip hop, because that dance was definitely better than the contemporary one.

The last dance was with the entire competition team, so girls from 8-18 years old XD The music was a remix of a bunch of different songs with "magic" themes. In the beginning, we're wearing capes, which we take off after the first two eight-counts.

However.

My cape wouldn't come off. The velcro had a conniption and wouldn't un-velc. So I had to yank it over my head XD Personally, I think I pulled it off pretty well, and Mrs. Lauren said so, too.

I felt really good about the dance, and when we got off stage, Mrs. Lauren said, "That's probably the BEST time you guys have ever done it." WooT! :D

However, we didn't get a particularly real award for it, because the other dances were miniature So You Think You Can Dance episodes. I didn't care, though. You know why?

BECAUSE NOW THE COMPETITION IS OVER!!!!!!!!!!!!!! :DDDDDDDDD

I don't think I've ever been so glad for something to be over in my entire life. Ha. Lle. Lu. Jah.

{Points if you read that correctly the first time XD}

So yeah. That was my first ever dance competition :)

~Stephanie

Letting Go

Thanks for following, Cassidy :) Love you.

"I never know what I think about something until I read what I've written on it." ~ William Faulkner

I had a revelation the other day. A personal ah-ha! moment. It was startling. And good, I think. But I hadn't come to a definite, closed conclusion in my mind until I wrote a comment on Bekah's blog. I read over my comment, and was sure that my words were quite true. I thought I'd share them with you guys, in the plain, comment form in which I wrote them.

In Bekah's post, she talks about losing her best friend, the friend she thought would be there forever. She just knew they'd graduate and live close to each other and have their children be best friends. Then something happened and the friendship abruptly withered.

{You can read her post here.}

And I wrote,

This just happened to me too, actually. It's incredibly hard. I have other good friends, but she's the one who knows EVERYTHING. She was with me when I started middle school, when I started writing my story, when I fell in love. She was the one who could talk me out of bad things and into good things. She kept me sane and helped me have fun.

And then all the sudden, something happened and suddenly she was too busy for me. We didn't really talk or see each other for about six months.

I went through a lot of hard things in those six months, but she didn't care. I needed her advice so many times. I couldn't sort things out on my own. But she was too busy.

Then just yesterday, she called me and gave me the biggest apology I've ever heard in my entire life. She realized what she'd done to me and she said she wanted to fix our relationship.

I expected to be over-the-moon happy, but instead, I just accepted her apology and calmly filled her in on my life. I didn't feel much of anything actually.

All these months, I'd been falling apart on the inside, needing her. Then when she finally came back, I realized something too:

I don't need her anymore.

I love her and I'll continue to be there for her, but now I can handle my own problems. I can think things through and make new friends. I don't need her. And it's okay. One might even go so far as to say it's a good thing.

Yeah, we had/have a lot of history that I'll never have with anyone else, but...I don't know. Sometimes you just know that it's time to move on. I'll still be there for her, and if I ever need her too, hopefully she'll be there for me. But she's no longer my other half. I discovered how to be whole in myself.

I'm sorry this was so long! It's just that I so know how you feel. I wanted to say hang in there, Bekah. She might come around. I really didn't think my best friend would, and yet she did. Yours might come back too, but in the meantime, do some soul-searching, some God-searching, and use this time to grow personally.

Who knows, you might discover that you're okay without her too.

~Stephanie

St. Patrick's Day

It is St. Patrick's Day! Hope you're wearing green. And Ginger, my thoughts go with you today XD I know how much you hate St. Patrick's Day.

However I, for one, am probably not wearing green. Know why? Today is my first ever DANCE COMPETITION. I have no illusions of first place trophies, but it would be really nice if I didn't forget the dance or fall off the stage. So please join me in those hopes XD

Maybe I'll post a video of me doing my dance sometime. I do love it. A lot. My teacher is incredible.

Although actually, if you're reading this, I've already done my solo at the competition. It was at 8:03 eastern time. So...

XD

Ah, what the heck. Wish me late luck. I'll let you know how it went on Tuesday.

~Stephanie

The Aftermath

Thanks for reading, Catherine :)

This is continued from yesterday's "The Wreck."

Things were pretty okay until I got home, really. Then my dad switched attitudes completely. Suddenly, I was a terrible person. Suddenly, I never towed the line. Suddenly, I "had a princess mentality," and that's what caused the wreck.

He went on and on and on, demanding answers from me. I mostly stuck to, "Okay," "I know," and "I'm sorry." He kept pushing me and running all over me with this whole YOU'RE A TERRIBLE PERSON approach. {At least that's what it FELT like.}

Then when I said, "I'm sorry" for the millionth time, he said,

"That's exactly what I'm talking about. That princess attitude."

What. The hell. Do you want from me? I had honestly done everything I could think of to do the right thing. For the past hour, I had been trying to put into practice everything he had ever told me. Taking responsibility, processing my actions, apologizing, trying to make it right. I actually thought he'd be proud of how I was acting. I was trying to do everything right.

And now he was telling me I'm a snot and that's why I make life suck for the world.

My mom to my dad: "I think she's just trying not to be upset."

Me: "Yup."

But he wouldn't shut up. Or back off. Or stop tearing me down and trampling me. I knew I was going to lose it. So I just started to walk away. He tried to stop me.

As I left, this strangled sound of frustration erupted from my throat. I literally saw red. It was the weirdest, most out of control feeling I've ever experienced. I didn't know your body could force you to scream so completely involuntarily.

I went downstairs and threw what was in my hand as hard as I possibly could at the floor. It was a CD in a case. It all came apart and went places. I literally had to throw it. There was no way to hold in the kind of emotion that was building in my body.

I went to my room. Unfortunately, I was crying. In myself was the most out-of-control rage I'd ever seen, much less experienced. I actually felt like a monster. I wanted to scream. I wanted to run away. I wanted to kill things and break things and shred my body.

I actually did cut/bruise my palms with my fingernails. I didn't mean to.

I couldn't figure out what to do with the rage inside. I knew a lot of things I COULDN'T do. But what TO do.

So I just went to music. I put in earbuds and turned up the music until I couldn't even think. I cleaned my room some, but I was still really upset. I wished the tears would stop. Angry tears are better than sad ones, but they still make me feel weak.

Eventually I was at least stable enough not to kill anything that moved. And I wanted to talk to someone. I wanted to tell someone. So I called Sam. I think we balance each other fairly well in the sanity department {or at least try to}. If I'm losing it, he's pretty chill, and theoretically vice versa. I was still definitely not okay when I called him. But by the time we hung up, I was.

Oh, and it turns out he knows the guy I hit. Go figure.

My parents had somewhere to go that night, so we were separated for a while. When they came home, they were both supportive and amazing again. My dad was nice to me and told me he was proud of me.

Um. Well. I'm glad.

One of these days, this will be in the past. But it's not yet. Right now, I'm just glad for all my friends.

Cass, I absolutely would not have been okay without you. Absolutely not. You were my head during all this.

Momma, thanks for sticking up for me and showing that you love me anyway.

Sam, somehow you talk me down from enormous mountains of not-okay. Thanks.

Aaron, I just love you.

Daniel {who doesn't read this}, I'm glad you're always on my side and help me gain perspective and sanity.

~Stephanie

The Wreck

It was Sunday. I was driving. Cassidy and I were on our way to see the play "Little Women" that some of my friends were in.

I was turning left. I looked left. I looked right. Cass and I were talking. I looked left again. I looked right again. I went.

"There's a car there," she said.

Hm?

I winced and steeled myself for one of those Wow, Close Call moments. But this time, it didn't happen like that.

A bump, a crunch, a scrape. A shocked, "Oh shit" from my mouth.

I pulled over, completely shocked at what had just happened.

"Is he stopping?" I asked Cassidy. "Is he pulling over?"

I hoped he wouldn't. I hoped he would just keep going. If he kept going, we could go home and figure it out without all the insurance and fault and complications. But no. He pulled over.

"What do we do?" I asked Cass. I know my eyes were about the size of golf balls. I didn't know what to do. I had no idea. I had absolutely no clue.

"We get out of the car," Cassidy said. "We have to talk to him."

I looked in the rear view mirror. It was a guy. He had long hair and a scruffy beard and what registered in my mind as a band T-shirt. Honestly--

"But he's creepy," I said.

Cassidy sort of laughed a tiny bit. "Well, that's unfortunate. But we still have to get out."

So we did. And he did too. You could tell he was a musician. He wasn't that old. We later found out he's 17, younger than I am.

I shook my head. "I'm so sorry," I said. I couldn't think of anything else that fit the situation.

He sort of shook his head and shrugged a little. "It's alright," he said. "Are you both okay?"

I nodded. "Yeah, we're fine. Are you?" I mentally kicked myself. That should have been the first thing I said to him. It was my fault. It was very, completely, definitely, totally ALL my fault. I said so, even though I know you're not supposed to do that.

Then Cass told me I was going to have to call my parents. I hadn't actually thought that far ahead. I kind of wasn't planning to call them. In my mind, I think I figured if we were all okay, I could just go home and fix the car--

Oh. The car. The Kia Soul with red and black interior. That I had just recently named. {Jaxx, in case you wondered.}

The damange really wasn't that bad. The front right headlight area was a little crunched. And it was leaking some kind of fluid. So. Aw.

I did call my dad. He was fairly calm and said he'd come. The part that hurt was my mom in the background. In a voice that said "I-Knew-She-Was-An-Effing-Screw-Up-Kid," she said, "She got in a wreck, didn't she?" Ouch, Mom.

So the guy I hit, Cassidy and I just sort of hung out for a while. He was really nice. He kept saying that he was glad we were all okay, and that it was fine, etc. Thank God I didn't hit like some horrible old person.

Before my dad got there, a police man showed up. Greattttt. Any chance of getting this over with easily is now over.

The officer got our licenses and stuff, and my dad was there soon. I just kept saying that I was so sorry and I'd pay for as much of everything as I possibly could, and then keep paying. My dad's words were, "Yeah, this is a gift that's gonna keep giving for about three years because of insurance." Oh. Cool.

Nothing of note happened for a while, besides the guy I hit's parents coming. They were also awesome. The first thing his mom said to me was, "I'm glad everyone is okay, that's the most important thing." They were all so sweet and calm. I'm amazed.

I freaking love living where I live, guys. Turns out we personally know the man who handles the guy's insurance. Ha. Wow.

After a really long time, the officer started to wrap up the paper work in his car. My dad and I went over.

Cop: "She's so young and nobody was really hurt, so I'm not going to give her a ticket. This whole thing is going to be bad enough as it is."

OH MY GOSH THANK YOU SO MUCH HOLY FREAKING COW THANK YOU OH MY WORD LORD JESUS THANK YOU YAY.

Wow.

"The Aftermath" coming tomorrow, haha. The post got too long.

~Stephanie