It's Too Bad

I wish my mother would stop talking to me. She's been talking to me for two straight days. I'm about to scream. I can't read, I can't eat, I can't blog, I can't do laundry, I can't watch TV without her talk, talk, talk, talk, talking to me.

My best friend and sister, Sarah, has started dating PC's best friend. As a result, she's been hanging out with his old friends at their apartments. As a result, she has become rude to/about me. Apparently that's what these people do:  ruin healthy good, relationships.

I haven't seen Cassidy in about two weeks. We've both been working. In my case, that means lots of smiling at high-maintenance parents and dealing with paperwork. In her case, it means hanging out with her best friends and favorite animals.

Gem has been busy at the times when I'm free. I've been busy at the times he is free. I'll see him tomorrow and Sunday though, which is nice.

Maybe I'll hang out with my friend Kirsten sometime. We enjoy each other.

Maybe I'll hang out with my friendbrother David. He's also lonely as fuck and emotionally unavailable. We understand each other that way.

It's too bad PC is a lying, manipulative headcase. I could really use the friend he used to be right now.

~Stephanie

Sunflower Award

Thanks, Alana! :)

 

11 Facts

~ I can crack my elbows.

 

~ I find death growls sexy.

 

~ My stomach gets noticeably way tanner than the rest of my body.

 

~  You know how basically everything in my Fire Fairy stories has come true in real life? {No? Well, it has. To a truly freaky degree.} Well, it recently occurred to me that Ember and Coal break up because Coal can't control his ability to lie and deceive, and Ember just can't handle it anymore.

mind = blown.

~ Bearing that in mind, I wonder when Ellie will announce her pregnancy with a boy...

~ On my first date with Gem, there was an ice storm--everything was either closed or massively crowded--and we saw Mr. Peabody and Sherman XD

~ My hair is getting increasingly curly. I mostly like it.

~ I've recently started blushing. I have never been a blusher. But someone just brings it right out. I hate.

~ I recently love turkey a lot.

~ I still don't like flowers. Except orchids. Which I still like.

~ I am 85% sure that I'm going to see Linkin Park again in August!!!!! :D

 

1) What's a musical instrument that you've always wanted to learn how to play, but haven't yet?

I really like that you added "yet." It allows me to believe that I may still learn to play...THE GUITAR! :D I have a beautiful, black acoustic guitar named Liath who does not get played hardly at all.

 

2) If you could live inside the world of your favorite book, what would it be?





Mmmm...well, my favorite book is probably "The Great Gatsby" or "Tex," but I wouldn't necessarily want to live in them. Middle Earth is hands-down the fantasy world I would choose to live in.

3) What was your favorite thing to play with when you were little?

Dollhouse (those "shows" would go on for eight hours with nooooo problem) or Slaves/Orphans/Pirates/Spies/A Combination of Those Four.

4) If you could decide what the weather was like all the time, what would it be?
75, breezy and clear. But I would miss thunderstorms a painful amount.

5) If you had to chose between being a wife/mother and being a career woman, what would you chose?
Wife/mother. But nothing will stop me from writing.

6) What's your biggest regret?
Honestly, nothing comes to mind. All my potential regrets have made me who I am, and I've found ways to appreciate them without "regretting" per se. Except recently, I have realized that I wish I hadn't shared as much vulnerability with PC. I gave away things that should have been saved until they could be beautiful.

7) Who is your hero and why? What could you do to make yourself more like that person?
THIS IS MASQUERADING AS A SINGLE QUESTION. {No, I could not spell "masquerading" without spellcheck.} Um... I've always wanted to grow up and be like my dance teacher, Mrs. Jennifer. She's a talented dancer and choreographer, and she's an absolute model of graciousness, sarcasm, and fun. She has four awesome kids, and I love the way she handles them. She also genuinely listens to everyone and remembers things like a machiiiiiiiiiiiine.

Step 1 of being more like her is making a more conscious effort to listen, invest in, and care about people. I'm truly pathetic at those things.


7 New Questions
1. What is your favorite flavor of Goldfish? Are you aware that cupcake-flavored Goldfish exist?
2. Which do you usually value higher:  justice or mercy?
3. What is your favorite emoticon?
4. What's the last thing you said out loud?
5. What was your first email address? Why that?
6. Who's an actor/actress you hate?
7. Is/was your house more fun when mom's gone, or when dad's gone?


I nominate...anyone who's low on posting ideas and wants to use these questions :)


~Stephanie

In My Arms Reprise

WARNING:  This post may get sappy. It will definitely praise God.
 ~~~~~~~~~
A little over a year ago, I posted THESE lyrics.

To date, I think "In My Arms" by Dead By April is the most influential song in my life. A year ago, God broke my heart, with a lot of help from myself and someone else.

 {I know it's hard to let go all that defines you. You feel like you'll never be whole again.}
 
When I heard "In My Arms" one day in April of 2013, I KNEW God was speaking to me. I let my walls come down and I just surrendered it all to Him. I demanded of myself to trust God and brokenly believe that the words of "In My Arms" would someday be true for me.

I. HAD. NO. IDEA.

{Don't give in. Don't let your memories break you.}

I spent a year trying not to let my memories of PC break me. I tried not to look back. For the first five or six months, I failed miserably. I deserted all my promises to God. I turned back to my own twisted logic. I began to depend on my own perversions of the future. It was unhealthy and shameful and I lost a lot more than just valuable time.

The words of "In My Arms" remained a faint but persistent promise in the back of my mind.

{All you've lost will come again; just stay here with me.}

I couldn't imagine gaining back a fraction of what I'd had in PC. He was my best friend. He represented everything I'd ever wanted in a companion, plus some. He understood me. He challenged me. He made me happy.

All I'd lost would come again? WAS GOD CRAZY?! WHAT KIND OF RIDICULOUS BULLSHIT WAS HE TRYING TO FEED ME?

I finally got a grip around the middle of this past December. I don't know why, but a straw broke my back and I in turn broke free from my broken lifestyle and broken relationship.

It hurt intensely for about a week. And then?

I haven't looked back. I haven't let my memories break me. Honestly, they're starting to fade, and rather than panic and relive them in my head, I'm just letting them. I'll never forget PC, and I'll always love him, but I don't feel compelled to deal with the painful close clarity of the memories. It's unnecessary. It's unhelpful.

He defined me entirely too much. Looking back, that fact has filled me with an indignant resentment. But lately, the resentment is distant; it's shadowy, easily put out by the light of my life now.

Because in just one short year, God has shown me that He is not a liar. In fact, he has shown me his divine ability to remain faithful even when we are faithless.

I've spent the past year living 90% for myself. I've made selfish, immoral, dangerous, short-sighted, tragic decisions. I haven't prayed enough. I haven't read the Bible enough. I haven't been a good representation of a Christian at all.

But for some reason, God has decided to show me what He and His promises are made of.

All I've lost will come again?

Thankfully, that is not quite the case. Instead, God has given me immeasurably more than anything I've ever had before.

I've JUST started dating Gem, so it's way too early to be feeling or knowing much, but guuuuuuuuys. This boy. Life is so not all about boys or dating, and God certainly isn't, and normally I'm not either, so it's very unexpected and unprecedented that God has decided to reveal His "all you've lost will come again" promise with such a direct, parallel shift:  when I finally relinquished PC, I could see Gem.

I don't know why Gem waited for me for three years. I cannot wrap my mind around why he wants to date me now. He is so out of my league.

I don't know what God has planned for me and Gem. Maybe we'll date over the whole summer; maybe we'll decide being friends is better for us; maybe we'll last for a long time. All I know is that when I finally stopped fighting God tooth and nail for MY plan with PC, God opened up floodgates of amazing, amazing things.

There is more joy in the world than I thought possible. And right now it feels like God is trying to hand every last bit of it to me :)

That song! "In My Arms" came true! When I posted it, I didn't know how it could be true, I just knew that God was calling me to trust it blindly. Eventually, I submitted to God's plan, and oh my gosh, a year later, I sit here and wonder how I was so blind for so long.

How could I have doubted God? I really hope I get better at not doing that XD

~Stephanie

Two Watchers

Written sometime in '08 or '09 

She watched from the deep shadows of the wood.  Her inky hair was a curtain for her pale face.  Her green eyes matched the moss that clunk to the trunks around her.  She did not move.  She did not breathe—much.  She just watched.  It was what she did best.  It was all she had ever been allowed to do.

She mostly watched him.

She did not know why she watched him.  She always had.  He was as familiar to her as her own shadow and just as ever-present in her mind.

She watched him in the courtyard.  He wielded his sword.  The sword was heavy, but watching him, one could not tell.  He moved with powerful grace.  He swung the sword right, left, he blocked, he parried.

He was everything she was not.

His skin was tanned where hers was moon-pale.

His hair was the color of new straw where hers was the blue-black of midnight.

His smile was easy and bright where hers was hesitant and skeptical.

His heart was strong where hers beat frantically.

He was clever where she was tongue-tied.

He was bold where she was unsure.

He was handsome where she was delicate.

He was free where she was not.

She could not have been farther from him, nor closer.  They were like a mirror image:  both opposite and the same.

She loved him, of course, but in a deep, tragic way that did not make sense to her at all.  She did not know when she had first loved him.  It seemed to her that she had been born loving him.  She had never spoken to him, although they had lived on the same property all their lives.  He did not know of her.  More than ever before, she began to regret that.  He should know her.  He should know the girl who watched from the shadows.

“Hello.”  Her voice, though very low, did not shake.

His sword stopped.  He turned, almost more in surprise to hear her speak than to see her there.  “Hello.”

She took steps out of the woods.

“I know you…?” he asked.  It was a statement, but an unsure one.  It was the first time she had heard him sound uncertain.

“Yes,” she found herself saying.  “I’ve been watching you.”

“Well met,” he said, his voice strong and calm.  He did not ask for her name.  He did not seem to think it was important.  “Why do you watch me?”

Her liquid emerald eyes were large, but not innocent.  “Because I hadn’t the courage to speak to you.”

He tilted his head.  His yellow hair slid against his forehead.  “I’ve seen you before,” he said.  “You are a handmaiden for my mother.”

She raised her eyebrows in surprise.  “I am.”

“I’ve watched you.”

Her eyebrows arched higher.  “You have not,” she said lowly.

His blue eyes smiled.  “You do not believe it because you have not seen me,” he said.  “Should I doubt you for the same reason?”

“Why would you watch me?” she demanded.  “I’m nothing.  I’m ugly.  I’m an underling.”

“It does not make sense,” he agreed.  “I do not understand my feelings either.  I like to watch you.  Something about you feels familiar to me.”

Only she heard the small intake of breath that parted her lips.  How was it that he felt the same about her?  Even as they felt the same about each other, his feelings were still different:  bolder, more forward, less troubling.

“You’ve taken the words from my very heart,” she said.  She took steps closer.  She came out of the shadows of the forest.  The yellow sunlight touched her.  “And why do you never speak to me?”

Did he cringe?  Just a little?  “It…it is not my place.”

The words pierce her.  “If I may, you mean that it is not my place.  Your speaking to me would require my speaking back.  To be found conversing with someone of my status…”  She let the accusation hang in the air.

“I did not have a reason to speak,” he said.  “For me to speak to you would have been…unnecessary and troubling to us both.”

“And yet you speak now.  Why?”

“You spoke to me.  You had the courage to do what I dare not.”

She felt herself blushing.  “You disguise your words as a compliment.  You mean to say that the burden of impropriety lies on me now and not you.”

He cleared his throat.  “Yes.”

Her green eyes flashed.  “For someone with your standing, that is a very weak excuse,” she said.  “Speaking with an underling would have required but a moment’s explaining on your part.”

He sheathed his sword and made steps towards her.  “You would have thought me mad!”

She took a step back.  “Do you think me mad for speaking to you?”

“Of course not!  But—”

“I hardly see your point anymore.”

He sighed harshly, drilling her with his hard, sapphire eyes.  “Do you love me?”

“Of course I do.”  She did not even blush as she said it.

His eyes softened to an ocean blue.  “I love you as well.”  He reached out to touch her.  She took yet another step back, looking wary now.

“Please, wait.”  Her voice was not quite sharp.

He froze.

“Something does not feel…right,” she said, her eyebrows knitting together.  “Do you feel it?”

“No,” he said abruptly.  She looked at him, and he reconsidered.  “Perhaps I can know what you mean…”

“I’m going back into the house.  I’m sure your mother has something for me to do.”

He looked pained.

She turned and walked toward the house.  Something warm and comfortable, like satisfaction, had draped itself across her shoulders.  She glanced behind.  “If you ever wish to speak to me when other are around, I would not mind.”

Love is blind, she thought as she entered the house.  But I am not.  I must learn to look with myself, and not with my love, next time we meet.

There would be a next time, she knew.  But now, he would be the one to speak.

She smiled.  Perhaps he was not so much braver than her after all.

Fragments XIV

~ I definitely just had to double-check the Roman numeral for "fourteen."

~ Also, I think this should actually be Thirteenth. Damn. Guess you're not getting a thirteen. Or maybe I'll slip thirteen in somewhere later, like in between thirty-six and thirty-seven for no reason.

~ I woke up today to a bleeding inner lip. Apparently that soft bit of flesh had been crush between my teeth for hours. It seems wrong that your body would hurt itself like that while you were unconscious. Isn't it supposed to, like...NOT do that?

~ I went clubbing last night, Thursday night. I woke up for my 9am today, went to class, and came right back to bed. Didn't get up til about 1 o'clock, so like forty minutes ago. I'm debating whether or not I'm going to Latin in twenty minutes. The professor never takes attendance and rarely stays on the topic of Latin anyway. I probably won't go. I might go get a coffee.

~ My best-friend-at-college Gerard's and my relationship just got weirder, in that it's still not weird. We had this talk last night wherein we confessed that we care about each other in an incredibly deep, different way, but mutually agreed that we can't/won't/shouldn't date. I don't want to date him. He doesn't want to date me. We just love each other in this unusual, mind-blowing, weird way. Something about it feels really noble. He said it felt Shakespearean and jokingly blamed me for it. "You're the English major. This has to be your fault."

~ I wish I had a dollar for every time I heard I was the one forcing a relationship into a bad place XD At least Gerard realizes that that's a joke.

~ I've been watching the TV show "The Following" on Netflix. If you like books, mysteries, thing that give you chills, Kevin Bacon, or Poe, you will like this show. So far, it's my favorite post-Breaking Bad show.

~ My church is doing a connection project/experiment. On Easter Sunday, someone from my church is going to approach me and ask 1) How God is working my life, 2) What goals I'm working toward, and 3) How the church can help. I'm a little anxious about this. I'm not in a terrible place God-wise, but I'm not very dedicated or connected, and I honestly believe that no one can help me with what I'm currently struggling with.

~ The word "with" is starting to sound like gibberish in my head. It's one of those words whose meaning easily deteriorates with mental repetition.

~ Sometimes I hit something on my keyboard that makes all my symbols mixed up. My question mark will be an underscore; my open parenthesis will be an asterisk. I have no clue what I press to cause this, and Google had not been helpful either.

~ I just ran out of paper with one page to go on my international relations report. After freaking out about what to do at midnight the night before the paper is due in hard copy at 9am, I went across the hall and asked my neighbor for some paper. She was naked, but she had paper. Score.

~ I just saw a girl eating an apple upside down. Why would someone do that?

~ I found just found THIS. And even though this post won't go up til May, right now, April 23, it's helpful. Unfortunately, I'll probably forget about it before it's time to write another paper.

~ Stephanie

Night at the Library

Texting With Gerard While at the Library...

Me:  "Wanna do dinner at six?"
Gerard:  "Yeah that works"
Me: "There's some freshman asshole loudly running his mouth in the library while sitting next to the sign that says 'This floor is reserved for silent study.'"
Gerard: ":/ Want me to come kick his ass? Or change the sign to 'This floor is reserved for Stephanie Bailey'?"
Me: "XD His girlfriend just left and she was apparently the one he was talking to. But yes, the second option, with an added note that says 'and other guests she deems worthy of using this floor.'"
Gerard: "Go into the sign-making business and do it yourself."
Me: "I'll make expensive-but-bullshit signs and when people are like, 'Wait, couldn't I do this for myself?' I'll be like 'Shhhh...'"
Gerard:  "That's the thing, they COULD do it themselves, but they're too lazy."
Me: "That describes pretty much every service we Americans subscribe to."
Gerard: "Be sure to add 'Made in America' to all your signs."
Me: "Of course. So, the library closes at 5:30, but what does the staff do about it? Do they come around all the floors and make everyone leave?"
Gerard: "I don't know. You can stay and find out. It could be like Night at the Museum. Except in a library."
Me: "WHAT IF THE BOOKS CAME ALIVE?!"
Gerard: "What if they were man-eaters?"
Me: "I can't imagine that ALL the books would be man-eaters any more than all humans are murderers. Or even meat-eaters. The books would probably have little factions of Good and Evil."
Gerard: "Like Transformers."
Me: "Nerd."

~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