Run of the MIL

I LOVE Gem's family. A ton. They're the big family I always wanted and never had.

But let me just say, it's a good thing I'm not easily offended. And while I'm not easily offended, I'd like to share some things with you, because they're just too good/bad/funny/whatever.

Things My Mother-in-Law Has Said Since Sunday
- "Is there any room in your fridge for this?" *holds up something she had in the cooler; opens fridge* "Oh wow. Yeah. You guys have like nothing in your fridge." In my defense, the next day was grocery day. I promise I feed your son. (It's even more sad because just the other day Gem and I were talking about how our fridge is finally starting to look like a grownup fridge. We've collected actual staple ingredients! Sigh.)

- "So, is your job with Classical Conversations pretty much almost full-time?" She says because she doesn't understand why I can't hang out with them the whole time they're visiting. Yes, my 40-50-hours-a-week, pays-all-the-bills, what-I-went-to-college-for dream job IS "pretty much almost" full-time.

- "But you're going to quit or go to part time after Gem graduates, right?" Well, no. I like my job. I went to school for this. I want to do more with my life than watch Netflix and spend my husband's money.

- "Oh yeah, chili is definitely something I can eat on my diet." *hours later* "Wait, you don't put beans in your chili, do you?" Does anyone NOT put beans in their chili?

Sigh XD She really is awesome, and didn't mean anything bad by any of her questions and comments, but, like I said, it's a good thing I'm not easily offended, right?

~Stephanie

A Small Breakdown

I had a small breakdown today.

My roommate and I went to see the play "Anne of Green Gables" this afternoon. I LOVED those movies as a kid. We have the entire movie series on VHS and I think I can probably still quote whole sections even though I haven't seen them in years.

Actually, before the play, I hadn't even THOUGHT about the story lately: the story of a little orphan girl with an unparalleled imagination, a big mouth, and dreams of authorship. I forgot how much Anne felt like childhood, felt like a legitimate part of MY identity, felt like home. Anne found a home in Green Gables, and I found my home today in her.

Suddenly I remembered how inspired I would get when I watched movies set in "olden days." I would start getting up at 7am and making my bed and eating an "old-fashioned" breakfasts and doing my chores right away and trying to wear dresses. I would make vows like ones Anne would make, about being a more conscientious person. I would try to be Polite and Well-Mannered and Hospitable.

Then my stomach started to sink with the startling realization that I am sort of grown up. There will not ever be another time when I can wake up and reinvent myself while my mom actually keeps my real life spinning. I actually DO have to get up at 7am and do my chores, because no one else is going to do them for me. I can't just lose myself in whatever pretend game I want anymore. I have to live my own, actual, real life.

And then--at the time it somehow seemed directly related to the above--I got really homesick. Lately I've been plagued by a gnawing feeling of homelessness. The couch and chair in my apartment living room are SINFULLY uncomfortable (the arms are bony, the leather seats stick to your skin, and the cushions come out the moment your ass touches them). My room is always messy because 1) it's small and 2) I never have the time or energy to keep it neat. Our kitchen sink is too shallow to wash dishes in and we don't have enough counter space to cook real food comfortably. My apartment does not feel like home.

But Gem's dorm is even worse. He's in your typical freshman dorm:  roommate, cinder block walls, loud AC unit, muggy as hell (the dehumidifier they just bought collects TWO GALLONS of water a day), and his bed is all the way lofted. You cannot sit up in bed at all. You're like 18 inches from the ceiling. It is like living in a prison cell. A humid, humid prison cell.

So, naturally, Home--my parents' house--is where my mind wistfully wandered.

Except that "Home" doesn't feel right anymore either. It has actually just started to feel like "my parents' house." Sure, it's familiar and the couch is comfy and the sink is deep and the counter space is fantastic and Mom's cooking is delicious and my room is clean (mostly because I don't live there anymore) and I can sit up in my bed, but...I don't know. It doesn't feel like a place where my soul is relaxed and snuggled up in a blanket anymore. It feels a little bit empty.

Although I'd give anything to be there now, of course. I really miss my family. I miss Mom's cooking and our inside jokes and her just "GETTING" me. I miss hearing Daddy's newest philosophical and political insights and going to the antique store with him and letting him show me his latest woodworking project. I haven't seen my sister in...a really long time. I don't even know when I saw her last. She pretty much just stays at college. She doesn't even respond to my texts, much less text me on her own.

But anyway. "Anne of Green Gables" made my heart and my throat ache with homesickness. And then my brain engaged and snorted at me:  Homesick? For where? Where is your home? And I didn't even know what to say.

My parents' house isn't Home anymore, and yet, I can't imagine feeling at home without my parents. This whole semester I've been excited to graduate and make my own "home": an apartment with all my books and my clothes and kitchen utensils where I cook food and watch TV and sleep and live real life. I've been so ready and so excited to make my own home.

But now I'm afraid that nowhere will ever feel like home, that I am incapable of creating "Home" by myself. I don't know how to do that. I'm afraid I'll always be a little homesick.

And I just started crying, right there in the play, right there in the dark theater house.

I'm not crying anymore, but I do feel lost and confused. What does Home really mean, anyway? Where Gem is? Where my books are? Where the damn couch cushions don't scoot out?

If I ever figure it out, I'm sure I'll let you know.

~Stephanie

Thankful. Or "Hashtag Blessed," If You Will

This has been an enigmatic Thanksgiving.

I got home on Monday night with two term papers to write completely. They have made me stressed, irritable, and unable to relax. {I still love being an English major. But really, fml.} As I type this, I have one complete rough draft of one paper {due Monday}. Today I will research and outline for the other {due Tuesday}, and write it tomorrow and Monday.

I really need an A on both papers. Unfortunately, I think I only have the time, energy, and resources to pull out Cs or Bs. But hey. In five days, it'll be over. For better or for worse, in five days there will be nothing I can do and I am pretty damn sure I can live with that.

For the next fifty minutes, I am giving myself a break. I will eat lunch, and I will blog. Because deep down inside, I'm actually perversely happy. This Thanksgiving has kind of sucked, but at the same time, it's been uniquely great. I want to take some time and Be Thankful since I didn't actually do it on Facebook like everyone else on the planet.

Family

Or more specifically, a Mom who's like my best friend, partner in crime, and confidante now {when did she stop judging me and start being my ally?}; a Daddy who always looks for the best in every person and every situation; and a sister who I would CHOOSE to hang out with pretty much any day of the week.

Roommates

Or more specifically, Harley {the redhead with the thumbs up}. Harley is my best friend at school. We get along flawlessly. I think we're the only two in the apartment who haven't gotten on each others' nerves. I help her with her papers; she lets me use her printer. She washes the dishes; I pick up her late-night cravings on my way back from work. There are no conversational boundaries. We laugh til we cry. And we form a Thermostat Team against Mary and Allison who like the apartment to be Hot As Actual Balls.

Internship

Yeah, it totally sucked away all my homework hours and made me have to do these papers over freaking Thanksgiving. BUT it also introduced me to the world's best boss, the world's coolest coworker, the world's greatest coffee, and a lot of unbelievable opportunities for the future. So cheers.

SRMUN

The Southern Regional Model United Nations conference. Like the internship, this conference kind of made my life Hell and contributed to having to do papers over freaking Thanksgiving. BUT AGAIN, I met amazing people, made hilariously awesome and eye-opening memories, and opened excellent future doors. So I am thankful it happened.

Cassidy {on the right}

Who apparently doesn't have any recent pictures of just herself. So I am also thankful for Allison on the left. But Cassidy is the girl I am closest to on the planet. I can't live without Sarah, and Harley is my everyday buddy, but Cassidy knows it all. She supports me, listens to me, advises me, helps me see things more clearly {including myself}. We laugh together, have those eye conversations, discuss makeup, discuss people, discuss futures. She may or may not have a Pinterest board dedicated to MY wedding one day... She's gorgeous, brilliant, loyal, hilarious, and I am so lucky to have her in my life.

No More Wisdom Teeth

Seriously. Having my wisdom teeth removed had been hanging over my head for like a decade.

The Road Trip

After three years of joking around, we took the trip of a lifetime. Those laughs, pains, sights, sounds, smells, tastes, and stories will be a highlight of my life until I die. I'm sure. From sharing a tent, to belting out songs in the car, to seeing the St. Louis Arch, to walking around Chicago at night... There are no words. Just trust me when I say this trip easily ranks in the top five Best Experiences of My Life.

Working Out

The place, the ability, the people to do it with. I love feeling strong and healthy.

This Kid

I'm sorry. I'm just really, really, inappropriately, overpoweringly happy that I'm dating him. I'm not even gonna try to be sarcastic and offhand about this. I'm in love with him and I think he's amazing.

He's the kind of guy who would like to spend an evening playing cards, but went out clubbing with me anyway.

He's the kind of guy who gave up forty-five minutes and a lot of convenience to figure out a way to watch A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving with me.

He's the kind of guy who buys me books and reads Paradise Lost for me even though he's not an epic poetry fan.

He's the kind of guy who can both make me blush and make me feel genuinely valued.

I've been lost in love before, and it almost destroyed me. But being lost in love with Gem feels an awful lot like being Found.

Runners Up for Most Appreciated In My Life:
1. ChapStick
2. Coffee
3. New windshield wipers
4. That hangnail finally leaving
5. Not having to have braces
6. Chocolate

And also, thank YOU for sticking with me :) I really do love you guys.

~Stephanie

Happiness :)

Today has just been an immensely happy day. I've been working on my 14-16 page Milton paper all day, which is actually going well, and I am freaking in love with "Paradise Lost" anyway, so it's been absolutely glorious. I keep thinking "I just want to do this with my life!" and then I remember that I'm an English major, so for at least two more years, I can!

But also, I found out that one of my best friends is considering dating someone awesome. I don't really get excited about relationships, as you know, but I actually made a squeaking sound {in public, mind you} when my friend texted me. Ermagersh.

One of my unbiological brothers also told me that he thinks he wants to marry his girlfriend. {For those of you who know me in real life, it is NOT the unbiological brother who would make us all cry if he decided to marry his current girlfriend.} Again, I don't normally get excited about relationships, but this knowledge filled me with such happiness that it prompted me to write this post.

Also, Gem is pretty cool. Relationship gush is not my favorite thing, especially if I'm the one gushing, so I'm gonna stop there. But he makes me laugh every day, in this really different way. It's the kind of laughter that first fills you up with joy on the inside, and then comes out in laughter.

I hope you've had a happy day!

~Stephanie

Don't Forget

So, Valentine's Day is coming up, as Natalie 's blog reminded me a few weeks ago.

I have a confession:  I tend to forget about Valentine's Day. Not all the way, as in I look at the calendar and it says February 14th and I'm like, "Whoa! Today is Valentine's Day!" But it's never in my mind as one of the annual holidays. I don't have strong feelings about it (I don't think it requires pink and red fireworks, but I don't think it's stupid either), and I've never had a "real" Valentine's Day.

I've kept a Valentine's Day journal since like 2007, where I record every Valentine's Day. I can't remember if I recorded 2013, because I was at college and the V. Day journal was at home. I probably didn't, but even I did, it would just read something like, "Yeah, I have a boyfriend for the first time this year, but it's not like anything special was done/said/given/thought/made, so lawl."

This year, I made plans with my family. We talked about it a few weeks ago, and decided that my parents and Sarah would come to Campbell and we'd all go out for a nice dinner and visit. Except that a couple of weeks ago, Sarah texted me and said something to the effect of,

"So, I'm really sorry, but the parents have made other Valentine's Day plans...I'll still come though!"

Oh. Thanks, Mom and Daddy. And ACTUALLY thanks to my awesome little sister, who has witnessed way more romantic injustice than I'm okay with her seeing. She's seventeen, but I still wish I could protect her from the bad stuff.

Honestly, I think this year will be fun :) Valentine's Day is a holiday dedicated to love, but nothing in the rules says it has to be ROMANTIC love. The love Sarah and I have for each other is incredibly strong and fun and beautiful, and I'm happy to celebrate with her.

So this Valentine's Day, celebrate with your significant other, but don't forget all the other kinds of love that are just as--or more?--worthy of celebration :)

Happy Valentine's Day!

~Stephanie

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

In Which I Bring You More Drama

After I took a shower when we got home from camping, I started to feel sick. The sneezing, the aching, the itchy sore throat, the exhaustion. It felt like what I'd had at the beach with PC's family. That sickness that lasted like three or four weeks and never really got identified. I went to the Fair with PC, Sophie, Anna, and Jordan anyway. I felt really awful, but we did have fun.

I spent all of fall break with PC. Wednesday afternoon, dinner. All day Thursday, all day Friday, all day Saturday, all day Sunday. Now that I think about it, I know that was too much, even though I was also with my family. It was too much PC for them. It's just that I like him, and he makes me feel better when I'm sick. He takes the best care of me.

Because I was sick, I spent Sunday night at home and drove back for my 11am on Monday.

After everyone went to bed Sunday night, PC stayed and helped me pack. It was about 11:20pm when Mom came stomping down the stairs.

"WHAT are you doing?" she demanded.

"I'm pack--"

"YOU--" she glared at me "--need to go to SLEEP. If you're SICK."

"He's just helping me pack," I said. "I'm gonna be fine. It's gonna be fine. I'll get enough sleep."

I don't remember if anything else was said, really. I may have said something like, "Just let me handle things." I know she ended with, "We'll talk about this later," and stalked away.

PC also apparently left the garage door open all night, which she told me this morning. Guess he's shit listed for sure now.

My family is driving me terrible places. This is not about PC. He just happens to be a tangible manifestation of what's going on in my life. My parents want what's best for me, I know. But they're stressing me out and making me want to run in the opposite direction.

They want me to not see PC so much and not have "bad" friends and never cuss and go to every church function and get amazing grades and find a "grown-up" boyfriend and not show my stomach and not go clubbing and not dance with people and sit around with them while they ignore me and never disagree with them.

However, their rigid disapproval of my (MY MY MY MY MY, dammit ) decisions sparks an automatic desire to go streaking in the opposite direction. That's my initial reaction to confinement. It makes me just want to have sex with PC and only hang out with "bad" friends and cuss and skip church and screw school and get tattoos and more piercings and go back to labeling myself as "dating" PC and wear sleazy clothing and club every weekend and grind my body on boys and completely cut my family out of my life.

But the thing is, I don't REALLY want those things! All I want is to not have to hide the fact that PC and I still sit close together sometimes and his touch doesn't make my skin crawl. I want to be able to choose my own friends--some "good" and some "bad"--and stay the same strong-principled individual I know I am. I want to use cuss words when I want to, which means sparingly when furious or for comedic effect. I want to go to the church functions that I connect with. I want to do my best in school and not feel judged when I decide to let question 26 D go for now. I want the freedom to date whoever the fuck I want, and if that ends up being PC again, I'll have good reason, so respect my decision, please. I want to wear clothes that, within reason, fit the event I'm attending. I want to go clubbing and dance with people and not believe that that means I'm going to Hell. I want to feel free from the crushing, priggish, pedantic, discouraging, conditional oversight of my family.

I know they want what's best for me, and I know they're most likely right. But if that's the case, and they truly believe that, then BACK OFF AND LET ME FIGURE IT OUT FOR MYSELF.

I know things will be different when I'm a parent, but I like to think I won't handle my kids like this.

On the bright side, Monya says she doesn't think I'm crazy or actually depressed. I expected to feel relieved and validated if I heard that. Instead, I feel lost and disappointed.

~Stephanie

My Dear Future Children

{Continuing with the unused topics from the Blog Every Day Challenge.}

Day Thirteen:  Issue a public apology.

My dear Future Children,

I don't know you yet, and you definitely don't know me as I write this. However, I'd like to apologize in advance, because I know having me for a mother is going to be...a mother.

I'm sorry that you don't have a cell phone, iPod touch, or TV in your room. Call me old-fashioned, but there's nothing outdated about a little healthy use of your imagination.

I'm sorry that I constantly correct your use of the word "much" versus "many," and "less" versus "fewer." Your college professors will love you, I promise.

I'm sorry that I only let you watch an hour of TV a day.

I'm sorry that I make your do your math homework to within an inch of its life. I just know how it turns out when you, you know, don't do that.

I'm sorry that I make you drink milk and water instead of soda and juice like all the other kids.

I'm sorry that I don't let you read Harry Potter until you're too old to enjoy the first two books. I know it sucks, but I'm so glad my parents did that for me.

I'm sorry that I randomly speak to you in Spanish, German, Latin, and God Only Knows What Else.

I'm sorry that you know all the words to Linkin Park and Relient K instead of the latest pop songs.

I'm sorry that I don't believe you're really using the bathroom for twenty-five minutes. The book you're reading has disappeared from its spot on the couch, leaving little to my extensive imagination.

I'm sorry that I embarrass you by tap dancing in the grocery store checkout line.

I'm sorry that I don't let you date when you're fifteen.

But you know what? I'm not really sorry for any of this. You kids are going to be awesome. And odds are, one of you is going to turn out to be like me and then your grandma can point and laugh at me and say, "Nature's revenge is sweet."

Sincerely,
Your sarcastic Future Mom

I Wrote This For Mother's Day

Stubborn, smart, and witty, with a tendency to correct.

Good with words, and lists, and kids, full of confidence to project.

An anathema to idiots runs strong within your veins

And instead of being pampered, you’d rather hold the reigns.

People like to listen because you truly love to say

Exactly what you mean and in just the perfect way.

I know all this about you for more reasons than just one.

Yes, I have observed you, but that’s not nearly half the fun.

(I use the term “fun” loosely, and for why you will soon see.)

The fact of the matter is, the You we love is, too, in Me.

You say people always told you that you’d have a child like you.

And I’m not sure who the joke is on that the statement has proved true.

God knows we’ve had our differences, but it’s really because we’re the same;

And I can’t quite tell if it’s nature or it’s nurture that’s to blame.

You see, the more I get to know myself, I get to know you too.

You start to make a lot of sense as I do the things you do.

I can only hope and pray to God that when the time is right

I’ll be able to raise my own little Joke with a bit of your insight.

I want to thank you very much for putting up with me.

I’m only beginning to understand how right you really can be.

It would not have been much use to tell me as girl these things,

But you’re such a part of the reason I’m beginning to grow my wings.

I love, appreciate, and respect you more than ever before

And I know as we both grow older I will do those even more.

~Stephanie

30 Hours In

I thought to myself today "You're doing a really good job getting along with your family."

Then I realized it's only been about 30 hours since I moved back.

I feel different, and I'm trying to act differently. Maybe I'm kidding myself, but I think I'm succeeding--so far.

My sister has become intensely sarcastic and short-tempered in my absence {no doubt filling in for me}; my dad has become even more clueless; and my mom just wants to be with me all the time.

I'm kind of afraid that it's only a matter of time before I flip out on them. I can already feel my patience wearing, their presence making me tense. I really don't want to argue with them. I really want to be helpful and mature and fun and make life nice for all of us.

Hopefully, with a lot of prayer and a healthy amount of friends and alone time, I can navigate this new summer lifestyle without serious emotional damage to myself or those around me XD

In other news, I'm thinking of changing Pandora's name. I definitely want to keep it Greek and meaningful, but I don't have any concrete ideas yet. Thoughts?

~Stephanie

Happy Sweet Sixteen, Sarah

When we were little, Sarah pretty much adored me.

It doesn’t make any sense at all, because I was terrible to her. I got her in trouble on purpose, wouldn’t let her play dollhouse with me, and asked her for stuff all the time.

During the elementary and middle school years, things continued pretty much the same. She wasn’t good at making up stories like I was, and she had trouble in school. I didn’t “get” her, and I didn’t think a whole lot of her. I was a malicious, conceited bitch most of the time.

(It only got worse when I hit puberty and the whole world was harsh and cruel, pelting me with dreadful woes and misfortunes like wavy hair and having to take pills instead of the liquid medicine for five-year-olds.)

But then I turned, like, sixteen and realized that there is still SOME good in the world—and a lot of it is in my little sister.

She’s AWESOME, guys. You don’t even know.

She went from a girl who couldn’t have an opinion on her favorite breakfast cereal to a girl who posts Facebook stati like “Mondays: The death of the weekend.” and " ‘The world isn't split into good people and Death Eaters. We've all got both light and dark inside of us. What matters is the part we choose to act on. That's who we really are.’ - Sirius Black.”

She’s just…she’s so great. In fact, you know what, here’s the birthday thing I wrote for her:

Happy Sweet Sixteen! You're older than Paige and Darren. I know I keep saying that, but it just keeps blowing my mind... Your sixteenth year is going to be great. I really think that. I can't believe you're sixteen though...

You are so awesome. You're so cool. You give amazing advice. You're very insightful. You keep up with my life better than I do. You calm me down. You remind me where my shoes...(nail polish, belt, pocket book, journal, phone, iPod, brain, etc.) are. You don't let me walk out of the house wearing clothes of appallingly different styles.

You're hilarious. You have gorgeous eyelashes.

You're refreshingly diligent. You're incredibly thoughtful. Your eye for color is absolutely supernatural.

I don't know if you're aware of this, but you have an awesome sense of hesitant irony. It's so funny and perfect and makes me laugh a lot.

Your Facebook stati are great. I like reading them.

You don't waste words, online or in real life. When you say something, you HAVE SOMETHING TO SAY, and it's always something legitimate, thoughtful, delightful.

You've grown into such an amazing person. It's truly an honor to be your friend and be able to watch you as you change and become the person God made you to be. Keep being awesome. I'm so proud of you.

I know I'm supposed to be a good example for you, but it's no lie to say *I* look up to YOU. Thanks for keeping me straight and helping me see the good in the world. You impact my life more than I can ever express.

I love you so much, Sarah. Happy birthday!

So yeah. She's pretty cool.

First Morning

Well. I am at college. I am at Campbell University in my dorm room with my roommate Rebekah, sitting in a plastic chair, typing this post on a laptop that is mine on a desk afixed to the wall.

How am I?

I dunno.

Yesterday was pretty good. I mean, it really couldn't have gone better. Mom, Daddy, Sarah, Cassidy, and David (unbiological brother) came with me to move in and say goodbye. I definitely couldn't have moved in without them. Daddy tackled the long, thin bookcase; Cassidy and David figured out the short, wide shelving unit; Sarah helped everyone with everything; Momma put away all my stuff; I put away my clothes.

Let me just say, my room looks AMAZING. I have seriously never seen a dorm room this awesome. Not in pictures, not in my hall, not anywhere. It's black and gray and green with Batman accents. Everything matches, and it looks great.

I also have everything I could possibly want, I think. My mom stocked me up on everything from Rice Krispy Treats to a wisk to cold medicine.

{I'll take picutres later :)}

Speaking of cold medicine, I think I'm getting sick, which is extremely troubling to me. I don't want to have a cold and a sore throat for my first few days of college. I don't want to feel terrible and pitiful and not have anyone to take care of me. I know it has to happen sometime, but why right now? :-/

There are a lot of things I haven't done or figured out yet. I haven't taken a shower here yet. I've barely used the restroom. I haven't gotten a PO box. I definitely haven't had classes yet.

Oh, in my box of textbooks, I got some weird, remote-like thing. I'm really worried and confused about it, because I have no clue what it is. It's probably something hilariously obvious or unimportant, but I'm a little stressed out about that...

Okay, how AM I. How AM I? {If you can't tell, this post is as much for me as it is for you. Journaling is too slow for the torrent of thoughts and experiences I have to record right now.}

*sigh* I don't know. I still want to go home. I still can't wrap my mind around the fact that THIS IS MY HOME NOW. I don't WANT it to be that way. I feel like I'm still living at home, and college is just a visit, instead of it being the other way around. To be honest, I don't want to lose that. I know that to enjoy college to the fullest I have to embrace it, but...well, maybe I don't WANT to enjoy college to the fullest. *sigh*

All I want is to get by happily with good grades and then move the hell back to where I belong and go to Wake Forest.

My first weekend home is Labor Day, Friday the 31st through Monday the 3rd. I cannot wait. I'm counting down the days. I'm just holding on for that. I'm holding on for when I can eat my mom's food and do nothing/everything with Cassidy and hug my sister and watch TV with my dad and be with Sam.

I just want to have a nice visit at college and hold out for the times when I go HOME.

I know that's terrible. I know I need to stop. But I still hope that I won't.

Can you just pray that the evening of August 31st comes quickly, and that this cold/sore throat doesn't get too bad?

~Stephanie

P.S. I'm going to chapel in forty-five minutes. I hope it doesn't suck.

P.P.S Also, please keep in touch with me. Comment, email, those who have my cell number, TEXT ME RELENTLESS PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE. Even if I don't reply every time, for the love of God keep harrassing me. Please.

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

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

Troll Face Week: Mom Logic

~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

Typical Friday Night

Dance competition in one week. I should get my bridesmaid dress for Ellie's wedding, I guess. Assuming the wedding is still on at this point. Aeneid memorization due in 5 days. I wonder if she IS still getting married. I haven't talked to her since January. Three hours of dance practice tonight. I don't have a costume for competition. I haven't read my theology assignment yet. Dance practice from 10am to 3pm TOMORROW. I'm starting to resent my life. Two weeks worth of Spanish homework needs to get done today. We may have to get a hotel room because my solo is at 8:03 in the morning and the competition is like three hours away--

Sarah: "Hey, Steph, Momma and Daddy think they're going to be home after six, so they said we should just cook the pizza for dinner and not wait for them so you can get to dance on time."

Me: "Okay."

Sarah: "We just had pizza for lunch though. Do you mind having it again?"

Me: "No. I like pizza."

Sarah: "Okay, what time do you want to eat?"

Me: "We, like, just had lunch."

Sarah: "That was five hours ago."

Me: "Oh. Okay. I'll eat whenever."

Sarah: "How much time do you think it'll take you to eat?"

Me: "I don't know. Not long."

Sarah: "I'll make the pizza."

Me: "Awesome."

Sarah: "When do you want me to start it?"

Me: "Sarah, I don't care. I'm not even hungry right now. I can't think about that."

Sarah: "Like, 6ish--"

Me: "How about I'll just have a sandwich. You can fix the pizza whenever you want it."

Sarah: "No, just tell me what time you want to eat."

Me: "I don't know. I'm not even hungry. I don't even care at all."

Sarah: "Well you have to care at ALL--"

Me: "CAN I PLEASE JUST HAVE A SANDWICH SO YOU'LL STOP TALKING TO ME?"

Sarah: *is offended*

*sigh* Sometimes, you just have to roll with life.

~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

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

Loose Ends

Thanks for joining us, Valentina!

It's like I just got good at this whole living life thing, and now I have to uproot myself and go do it somewhere else.

Yeah. Everyone feels that way.

It doesn't feel like I'm going to college. It feels like I'm dying. I have to take all my chances NOW, because I'm leaving. I have to set everything straight with people because this might be it. I have to say goodbye to everyone and let them know what they mean to me because I'll probably forget later.

You feel like it's now or never, don't you.

Yeah. Like if I don't try things now, I'll miss my chance. I'll wonder forever what would have happened if...you know. Fill in the blank with a million things.

But think about it this way: if you tie off all the loose ends now, you won't be able to pick them back up later. Or you'll have to UNtie them first. It'll feel like having to start all over. Whereas if you leave some ends untied, open, you can come back to them later. You're so sure that this is the end of everything as you know it that you're actually MAKING it that way.

...oh. I never thought about it like that. Like maybe it's a better idea if I don't...truncate my life.

Um, yes. Non-truncation is generally preferable.

So...I don't have to try it all now. Or end it all now for that matter.

Definitely not. In fact...please don't XD

Huh. Well. This...this isn't so bad after all, is it?

It isn't :)

~Stephanie