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

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

Three Tap Touch

We all {though Urban Dictionary says mostly males} do it , and I really thought we all knew the name for it, but apparently it's less well-known than I thought. Therefore, I have taken it upon myself to educate the masses. {By posting on a small blog that isn't even listed on my profile anymore. That's right.}

The three tap touch:  "The ritual performed...before leaving the house/apartment/room/living space...to check for the presence of phone, keys, and wallet. Usually done by touching the front right, front left, and then back right pocket in succession to ensure said items are still in your damn pants." - Urban Dictionary.

My lovely friend James could use a good course in TTT-ing. In the six months I've been good friends with him, he has lost his wallet at his apartment, my home, and a grocery store {it was left in the cart}. He also routinely leaves it behind places, like at a cash register, locked in his Jeep, or his uncle's house in Baltimore.

That last instance is actually in the process of occurring.

Cassidy, my sister Sarah, and James drove six hours to see the Orioles {right?} play in Baltimore on Wednesday. They've been staying at his uncle and aunt's place on kind of a mini vacation. They were supposed to leave early this morning, so I texted Sarah at about 10am.

"On the road again?"

Sarah:  "Yes and no. James forgot his wallet. We're going to have to go back."

Considering they were supposed to leave "early," meaning probably 8 or 9, the neglected wallet is probably costing them two to four hours on the road XD

Me:  "I can't believe you didn't enforce the three tap touch. It's like you've never met James :P"

Sarah:  "The what?"

And thus. This post.

I hope you leave your computer enlightened and reminded always to tap yourself thrice before leaving your home, a grocery store, a cash register, your car, or your uncle's house in Baltimore.

~Stephanie

Teen Fantasy Ten Things

Ten Things We Learn from Teen Fantasy Media

1. A good enough one-liner gives any teen the right to walk away from his or her parents.

2. Villains you have killed are more dangerous than live ones. Why? Because they're never ACTUALLY dead, so believing they are just makes you vulnerable to surprise attacks.

3. If any two characters share a smile and a look that lasts longer than three seconds, they will have sex together at some point.

4. No one ever actually hates/ stays mad at someone forever.

5. No one is ever actually an orphan. It's just a loophole so that a long-lost parent can show up later.

6. It is totally possible to fall in love with someone knowing nothing more than their species (human/vampire/werewolf/witch/alien/etc.) and how many visible ab muscles they have.

7. If you open a closet or refrigerator door, there will be someone standing behind it when you close it. (You are also obligated to gasp daintily, briefly shut your eyes, and murmur,  "You scared me.")

8. Sex never complicates anything. It will never be distracting or dramatic, and actually fosters intellectual development as a couple.

9. There will always be a love triangle. If there isn't one now, then brace yourself, because it's coming.

10. All girls go to bed wearing full makeup and bras.

But ultimately, everything will totes okay, as long as you and your significant other make each other's love the most important thing in the world.

~Stephanie

P.S. This is also the 600th post! Noice. Thanks for sticking it out with me :)

Facebook Pet Peeves

In no particular order.

1. When someone re-shares something on your timelines, but doesn't Like it. Somehow it feels cheap, like they're trying to pass it off as their own without giving you credit for finding it in the first place.

2. When someone posts an inside-joke as his/her status, particularly when friends are tagged in it. Good for you, you have friends. But let me introduce you to this cool feature called the "private message."

3. That girl with 5000 friends who posts selfies all the time and gets about 200 Likes. It's nothing to be proud of, because really, out of 5000 people you're bound to find ones who will reward a little cleavage.

4. When comments on a picture or post are allowed to run rampant. There should never, ever, ever be more than five comments posted by the same person on the same post/picture. Ever. Again, let me introduce you to the private message feature.

5. When people use a sarcastic meme as an invitation to start a debate in the comments. No. It's a meme. It's funny. No one cares about opposite opinions when they post memes.

6. The tsunami of "fun," "thought-provoking," "so good," "inspiring," "sweet," "perfect" articles about dating/marriage/old-fashioned relationships/the value of waiting/serving your spouse/how to love being single/how to find The One by/not looking for The One, et freaking cetera. Good god. Me thinks everyone and their brother dost protest to much.

7. Stupid people. Sometimes there's just no acceptable escape. You can't delete them, but you simply MUST Hide them from your newsfeed.

~Stephanie

Not Jumping Out a Third-Story Window

Most of you who know me would agree with the following:

Most of the time, I don't work very hard at school.

That doesn't mean I don't get good grades. I happen to be one of those really annoying people who get A's on stuff they did in three days. Here's the difference:

I work harder in those three days than other people do in entire weeks. And I'm miserable.

And I'm in the middle of one of those three-day periods right now, except this time I've somehow painted myself into this hellish corner where it's going to be like a WEEK AND A HALF of brutal school work as opposed to a few days.

Since last Friday, I have not watched one. single. episode. of Breaking Bad. That's how serious I am.

What happened is a series of unfortunate events.

First, for some ungodly reason, I signed up for a group presentation, a solo presentation, and another solo presentation that are all to be given within the same week.

Second, snow days happened, and some professors are assholes.

Third, in the same ten-day period as the aforementioned presentations, I have three tests and a midterm paper.

Fourth, I'm an English major now {it's official! :D}, so tons of reading is always, always, always on my plate, and not in the kind of classes that can be satisfied with SparkNotes. Oh no. These professors expect a whole freaking lot more than that. {I'm not really complaining about this one; I respect it, it just makes this ten-day period kind of like scraping your forehead against a cheese-grater while having your nose hairs plucked out with red-hot tweezers and trying to get the people at McDonald's to get your order right.}

But honestly, y'all, I HAVE been working hard, and even though I'm not sleeping well and have several budding stress ulcers, there's a perverse satisfaction that comes with cramming school work into every waking minute and still managing not to shoot yourself.

Because you know you're going to do just fine in the end.

At least, that's what you have to keep telling yourself.

~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

When Stephanie Proofreads

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

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

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

THERE ARE TWELVE INSTANCES OF "THEY/THEM" IN THIS SENTENCE AND THREE POSSIBLE SUBJECTS. DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW HARD IT IS TO READ A SENTENCE WITH THIS QUANTITY OF DANGLING MODIFIERS?

 

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

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

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

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

 

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

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

~Stephanie

Just Another Tuesday Night

OH MY GOD, I ALMOST GOT KISSED.

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

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

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

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

Etc.

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

I was grudgingly moved by that gesture of reassurance.

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

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

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

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

Fuuuuuck.

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

Oh well. You live and learn.

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

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

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

Yeah. There were lips on my cheek.

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

"What?" he said.

I repeated the sound.

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

"No."

"You got a boyfriend?"

"...no, but close enough that it'd be weird."

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

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

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

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

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

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

~Stephanie

College Cravings

*happy sigh* You know, I could really go for some chocolate milk right now.

I wish I had some. But I don't. I guess I could go buy some, but I'd really rather not deal with that right now.

...

Ahh, I really want something though. I'll go the healthy route. Craisins.

*eats craisins*

Okay, no. That's not even close to anything I felt like eating.

Well, I have yogurt. And cocoa puffs. That's dairy and chocolate, sort of. If my taste buds squint really hard, maybe that will scratch the same itch as chocolate milk.

*eats yogurt and cocoa puffs*

Awesome. Yeah. That was good. Well, kind of. It was food that tasted nice. But it was all smooth and sort of tasteless... I wish I had something salty. And crunchy. I want chips.

*eats chips*

Cool. These are good. Wow. I'm so thirsty now. What have I got? Tea. That has caffeine and it's midnight. Damn. Water?

*drinks water*

I don't want water. And I have a little bit of heartburn. You know what I could really go for right now?

Chocolate milk.

...

*goes and buys chocolate milk*

Moral of the story:  Sometimes only one thing will do, so save yourself the heartache and useless calories and JUST BUY THE DAMN CHOCOLATE MILK.

~Stephanie

XD

This made me laugh XD

 

Open it in a new tab and magnify it, I guess. I dunno why it won't come up big enough to see.

~ 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

Allie Brosh

Day Five: Publicly profess your love and devotion for a blogger friend. What makes them great? Why do you love them?

I'm going to take this a little bit impersonally, because my favorite blogger {strictly based on blogging} is one with whom I have never interacted:

Allie Brosh of Hyperbole and a Half {<-- You can click that. For some reason, the linked words do not show up differently on my laptop anymore. I hope you don't have this issue, but if you do, try to click everything ever anyway. I might have linked to something.}

She's hands-down the best blogger I've ever read. Her stuff is, hands-down, some of the funniest stuff I have ever read. She also expressed PERFECTLY how I felt a couple of months ago and was unable to express {in THIS post}.

She's hilarious, relatable, and her illustrations are perfect.

I recommend {all of the post titles are linked, btw}

"The Alot" for grammar Nazis like me.
"Dog" for dog-lovers.
"Wolves" for people who are interested in what I was like as a kid.
"The Party" for people who have had teeth removed or just want to laugh.

~Stephanie

Irony

There are people who mourn the closed-mindedness of others, and are angered at their "wrong" and "judgmental" beliefs. These people declare that everyone has the right to his own opinion, and no one should be hated for his beliefs.

But then those same people turn around and campaign against those who believe differently than they do. It's okay for them to be angry and want to change your belief that homosexuality is wrong. However, it is not okay for you to calmly tell them that that is what you believe, and you're sticking to it.

Having different views is a beautiful and acceptable thing--unless you disagree with those who believe that XD This philosophy always breaks down somewhere...

Anyone else find this laughably ironic?

~Stephanie

Hah.

~Stephanie

College Life

One of my guy friends posted a picture of his hall's maintenance report. I love.







~Stephanie

Reactions

When you realize that having your two hardest finals on Monday is actually the worst thing that's ever happened to you, you might choose to:

- Wallow in the floor with your sweatshirt hood up, repeating "This is the worst thing ever."

- Stare into your teacup and blink at relatively regular intervals.

- Think, "Maybe if I ignore it, it'll just go away."

- Procrastinat--oh wait, you've already done that to the point where you've basically screwed yourself over.

- Pretend you've already finished. Pack your things and prepare to leave the campus.

- Give yourself a manicure with your teeth.

- Whimper.

- Write a blog post.

- Study?

~Stephanie

Riccardio

About a year ago, Sam and I discussed and began writing a story together. It has the potential to be pretty great {naturally}, but we've put it on hold for a while because we're busy and a little bit lazy.

But around 2AM a few nights ago, we began collaborating on a new piece...

Me: Do you want to make up a ridiculous story?

PC: What do you mean?

Me: Like each say a sentence.

(I'm also really tired, just btw. That's becoming evident.)

Like, there once was a silver pineapple named Riccardio, whose dream was to become a neural surgeon.

PC: He lived in a Canadian gentleman named Robertina, who had self-esteem issues and three left feet.

Me: His wife was a liberated peach from Phoenix, who loved to declare her love in Arabic, causing trouble every time the couple wanted to fly.

PC: One day, they purchased an emu that wore a suit of armor.

Me: It fit inside the Canadian gentleman surprisingly well, but it disagreed with the gentleman's second left foot.

PC: The emu was happy to have a home, even if it did smell like outer space,

Me: The emu's name was Raddish and he spent most of his time dyeing the leg hair of spiders.

PC: One day, a penguin appeared and wanted the emu to share, setting the emu off the deep end.

Me: The emu's shift in temperment made him more agreeable to the gentleman's second left leg, but left the silver pineapple and the liberated peach feeling like failures as radioactive psychologists.

PC: Riccardio eventually had enough; the breaking point came one day, after he realized hewas a pineapple, and obviously belonged iuimderwater.

And I can't do this anymore xD

Me: Yeah, I was just thinking it was right about time to be done with this.

*sigh* We have such potential.

~Stephanie

P.S. IT'S OFFICIALLY CHRISTMASTIIIIIIIIIIIIME.

That Moment When

That moment when you realize drinking a caffeinated beverage was a terrible idea.

That moment when you realize all you want to do is watch TV and laugh and not do school work.

That moment when you realize if some sort of structure doesn't descend on you in the next five minutes, you're going to be lost.

That moment when you realize you've eaten two unneccessary Rice Krispy Treats and are probably going to gain a lot of weight if this continues.

That moment when you hiccup and laugh.

That moment when you send a text message, then wonder if you would have said that if you weren't really caffeinated.

That moment when your internet goes out and you're in the middle of a blog post and you hope it will come back before Blogger logs you out and you lose everything.

That moment when you realize you have two days to complete an English project with a deadbeat partner and write a phenomenal short fiction analysis.

That moment when you realize you don't really care that your family is coming to visit in five days.

That moment when you smugly realize you're getting an A in Spanish and you haven't opened the text book yet.

That moment when your stomach starts to hurt from the caffiene and Rice Krispy Treats.

That moment when your realize this brief blogging break is over and it's time to get back to homework.

And you sigh.

And type a tilde, then your name.

~Stephanie

Then go and do glorious, productive English work that will no doubt get you an A+ and the teacher's respect.

Things I Have Learned at College {So Far}

Things I Have Learned at College

1. September 17th is Pirate Day, and if you dress up like a pirate and go to Krispy Kreme, you can get a dozen free doughnuts.

2. The correct spelling of "doughnuts" is not "donuts."

3. Some people think making out and saying "I love you" are a first step. Being in a relationship comes somewhere second. Or maybe third.

4. My "high school" was really challenging. Most people are freaked out and blown away by the quality of work expected here. I'm...not. As arrogant as it sounds, the English presentations my classmates gave yesterday would not have cut it in Mrs. Tomkinson's Challenge IV class.

5. Long-distance relationships are totally doable. A little sad, sure, but far from impossible.

6. Yoga pants = "stare at my ass pants." I had honest-to-God never thought about this before, and I feel really stupid for never consciously noticing how yoga pants fit. I am so oblivious it frightens me. {It also frightens Sarah, who has probably tried to tell me this before and I wasn't paying attention.}

7. College kids aren't {necessarily} much more mature than high school seniors. There's still a disappointing amount of pettiness and an exciting amount of Disney enthusiasm.

8. I can't eat just one fun-sized Twix.

9. I take abnormally long showers.

10. I brush my teeth abnormally a lot.

~Stephanie