I'm Just a Snowman Surprise

Easter and then some

noreply@blogger.com (Steph) — Wed, 15 Apr 2009 18:24:00 +0000

So I keep having dreams/nightmares about grad school. I am totally one of those people who dreams the night before a big test that they didn't study and totally bomb the test...naked. Cause that is just insult to injury.
I have been organizing my comics. A feat I severely underestimated. I figured I had maybe a couple hundred. Well I have probably around six hundred. Oh hobbies.
It is snowing. I have to walk to class in this!! While I guess I will miss how pretty the snow is, I will not miss walking to school in it.
Easter conclusions: traumatizing babies is both entertaining and hilarious. So my second cousin’s girlfriend’s baby was at the festivities and she was I think seven weeks old. Her face was either: happy, screaming, crying or concerned. She would scrunch up her eyebrows at all sorts of things. My Aunt like to play silly games at big family get togethers and one of the games this time around was dominos. Not playing the actual game but setting them up to knock them down. Way harder than it sounds! After doing a big long row down some stairs (which Bree got to knock over after answering a questions right) I was working on a spiral with my cousin. My dad is sitting near by with said baby. The baby threw one of her toys into the dominos knocking over several rows and my cousin, Bree and myself all yell “No!” After realizing the damage was minimal we look over to the baby and crack up because her race is twisted into a very concerned and confused mixture. Through the laughter we attempt to make the baby happy again and all is well. Then we let the baby knock over the finished spiral. There is video of this my aunt took. You see the baby grab the first domino and succeed in not knocking any of the others over. My dad swoops her down for a another pass and she sets the spiral going. When it finishes the family (everyone is gathered around watching) cheers and you see the baby’s face scrunch up and burst into tears. I am pretty sure this baby will grow up to be afraid of dominos and perhaps never know why.

So...

noreply@blogger.com (Steph) — Sun, 22 Mar 2009 05:56:00 +0000

It has been awhile. I found this website all about what a Dick Superman is. To be fair many of his comics were written in like the 60's but still.
Check it out.

I am...

noreply@blogger.com (Steph) — Sun, 05 Oct 2008 03:19:00 +0000

So this coming week I have five tests and a circus show. The show is on Saturday with a plethora of practices and dress rehearsals before then. I guess dress rehearsals are also practices but they are so much more I refuse to just list one or the other. I have way more line than before because: The basic premise of our show is that it is the day after a show and one member is missing(foul play is presumed). An inspector comes in and questions all the circus members which leads then to describing the night before thus segueing into actual circus acts. At first my only lines where when I went in to talk to the inspector and now due to a random assortments of events I am the inspector(batman)*. Which means I have a lot more lines to memorize and went out today with Bree and found a kick ass, very inspector like rain coaty thing. I am insanely excited for the show. If only I didn't have so much school between now and then...

*This will probably only make sense to Robin but to clarify I am only the inspector and not batman.**
**I am batman.

I so did not get this at first but Bree explained it to me and now I find it hilarious.

Two Months!!!

noreply@blogger.com (Steph) — Mon, 29 Sep 2008 19:10:00 +0000

So I have not written since before school started. Coincidence!?! No sir! These last three weeks I have had no less than three tests a week. Add homework, Japanese presentations(in Japanese!), social life(not happening!) and a circus show on the 11th and I am swamped! I am way excited for the show as I have three drag acts in it(one solo, two with Bree plus others) and Bree and I are in the script and everything!!! Which is crazy fun and sometimes just plain crazy. I expect the number of posts I put up will be negatively correlated to the number of tests I have per week.

And we are...off!

noreply@blogger.com (Steph) — Thu, 07 Aug 2008 23:38:00 +0000

Bree actually pointed this one out to me before I checked the site!!! A good find indeed. Oh superhero jokes, will I ever get sick of you?
So we leave at five a.m. tomorrow morning to drive straight to Story, Wyoming. 16ish hour drive depending on lots of things but hopefully it will be shorter than that if anything. I am a lot less worried now for absolutely no reason. I think my paranoia comes in waves. Before I was convinced that somehow every turn we made we would be confronted with drunk drivers, burglars, rapists, conservatives(scarier than I want them to be because I am gay and proud...dammit....) and plain bad luck and now I am all “That’s silly.” Well at least I am over it. Now I am really excited!!! Yay nature! Here we come!!!

I am so lost!!!

noreply@blogger.com (Steph) — Thu, 31 Jul 2008 04:57:00 +0000

So major frustration over here. Evan informed me a while ago he would not go with Bree and I to Wyoming for reasons I shall not get into but the point is since he really wanted to go, has gone before and was more or less down with it we thought he was going. So now we are the only two going. I really want to go but I am not sure that: a. my mother would allow me to go alone with Bree/ I myself have worries b. how we would make a 15 hour drive just the two of us if we didn't stop and c. how safe we would be stopping in an unknown town alone. The whole thing is driving me nuts. Our friend Ashley might go but we do not yet know if she will. She doesn't drive either. I dunno what to do. I want to go. This is not in question. I am way freaked about the idea of going alone and Erin will probably tell me Bree and I can't under any circumstances. I hate that we can't. I hate the fact that since we are two women we will not be as safe as a couple that was a man and a women. I hate that I lack the confidence to go alone because I worry we will be in danger. I will call Ash tomorrow and see what she says but either way I have my reservations. I don't think Bree cares about going alone and I don't want my reservations to stop her from being able to do something... but I also don't want to do something realistically possibly dangerous just because I in theory should be able to. I was feeling so in control and now I feel totally shot. Any advice would be appreciated.
On top of all of this I am writing a major paper for my Research Methods class. In this class I must get and A to keep my 3.5(exactly) grade point average.

Studys are boring to read about

noreply@blogger.com (Steph) — Fri, 18 Jul 2008 20:07:00 +0000

So in the last few days I have participated in many a study. I have to for my research methods class but hey they still are not bad. I got a free muffin in one and I was starved!!! That one was weird because it supposedly measured if sugar effects how well you do certain tasks (judging how much water in a bottle would fill several cups or judging the diameter of a circle without a ruler) but so far everyone I talked to was in the muffin group and while I could statistically show how impossible this is I wont because statistics was last semester(though that doesn't stop me from doing the math and not telling you). Anyways you had a coke can, water bottle and sobe bottle as well as the little cups. At the beginning of the experiment(the researcher/grad student left while I performed it) the researcher told me to throw out my materials and the instructions on the computer(where I put in my answers) also told me to do this. I wondered if it was actually a study about following directions because seriously I could have had like ten snickers because and they never would have known. It didn't make a lot of sense for how it was measuring sugar intake and your ability to perform tasks. So I ask my classmates who participated if they threw out their stuff in the trash cans provided which were empty for all of us when we entered the room. They did and we mentioned how it was weird they didn't reuse at least the bottles. I took my materials. The things is there where two trash cans, one a little smaller than the other but they were not labeled so I assumed they were not recycling cans. I wanted to recycling my stuff so I took it. The researcher was very clear that I was to dispose of that stuff. My class mates think I ruined the experiment somehow.
Another experiment I was in involved filling out questionnaires then writing out a sexual fantasy in explicit detail. Oh yeah that is what it involved. So it was a bit awkward doing this in a room full of mostly stranger. To top it off in the middle of writing a horn honks. Not like a car horn, it was like a bike horn. Like the kind a clown would use. We all kinda laughed and I said it ruined the mood. The last study I did was purely filling out surveys mostly about attitudes toward homosexuals, relationship violence(including straight and gay couples) and stereotypically masculine and feminine traits. So the whole thing was fine till the end where there was a girl and guy section. I go to the girl section of course and it has things like "Do you find men more sexy when they are in control or when you are in control of sex?" and you had to pick one... n/a???? The thing is the rest of the questionnaires were totally gay friendly till this last one were half the questions made no sense for me. The thing about studies is you really need to answer everything and so I go up to the grad student(who was this very nice seeming chick) and ask her what to say as I am a lesbian. She says that is just what she hates about that part of the questionnaire(that it is not gay friendly) and asks me to just assume the man in all the questions is a woman. She later explains it was the only reputable scale for what it was measuring(reactions toward stereotypically masculine and feminine behavior) and gave us tips for how to study for our Research Methods class as our prof is really really hard. This is not the first previous student to tell us this. Awesome.
Other than school I don't do much. We had a circus meeting last night and I am excited about doing more shows. My b day is next Thursday but that doesn't mean much other than that I am driving to Tucson(which I can hardly afford) to see Mariah cause she wants to see me. Ah well she sounds excited and that is what counts.

Haggis has a new boyfriend!

noreply@blogger.com (Steph) — Thu, 10 Jul 2008 22:33:00 +0000

It has been. Ever since I found out about my growth* I have been decidedly less worried about it. My mother on the other hand seems to think six months is not long enough and keeps encouraging me to go to the doctor if "anything changes." Considering the only major symptom I have is lactation and thus larger breast I don't think this will change or get worse. How much worse could it get? I dare not think of it. Beyond that there are reasonable things for me to look out for(loss of period or peripheral vision) but frankly I am not that worried about it. I am though stuck with my second puberty changes. The medication to make my prolactin level go down sounds pointless(since the doctor said it isn't hurting me) and painful(apparently it is not a fun medication to be on). So I shall not mess with my hormones anymore (than my body is already doing for me) and just get used to feeling like I stole some other chicks rack.**
I received A's in my last two online classes(sweet!) and my next class seems ok. Further thoughts on that once I turn some stuff in. For now I have to deal with learning about research methods for sixteen hours a week. Lots and lots of little things.
Bree and I are practically moved in so I took some pictures(because I think those are way more entertaining than anything I write)!
* Possible names have been: Herbie, Sheila, Mystique and Francesca. Any thoughts?
**It is really not too big of a difference but I mean come on, imagine your bras (I guess if you are a guy you can think of pants?) suddenly not fitting anymore at the age of twenty one. Didn't this stop happening like seven years ago?

A view from our front door.

What's funny is I thought I had not hung up that Godzilla poster till I saw this picture on my computer after I had just taken it.

Her favorite spot in the apartment is on top of the fridge. The only way I could stop her from cleaning herself long enough to take the picture was to open the freezer door.

Results and the maze

noreply@blogger.com (Steph) — Sat, 28 Jun 2008 00:14:00 +0000

The results are in! I have a 3mm growth on my pituitary gland! Hello little friend. Erin wants to name it. I am now taking suggestions. It is to small to do anything about right now so I get to wait six months and have another...MRI! Then we shall see if the little guy(or gal) is growing. Damn useless cells. Until then I need to be on the look out for loss of peripheral vision as this is apparently a sign of it getting bigger(and therefore pushing against my very important eye parts). So I am still here and all is well for now. I am still pretty freaked about dying, me, Bree and probably whomever is reading this but that started way before I ever knew about the little pal attached to my brain. I am going to start reading a book Erin suggested by a gnomey German guy. Sounds reasonable to me.
So here are some pics of our place so you can get an idea of the mess we live in. We move out Sunday. More on that and other thrilling topics when I have the time.
This is the wall in the kitchen. Notice Erin's poster on the left as well as the crest. On the right we have the painting my mom bought me called "Where Lesbians Come From"(no joke).

You are probably wonder what this is a picture of...it happens to be the four couches in our living room. It is not much to look at but still it was a great feat to pull off.

This would be the bedroom. Haggis is lying on a chair on a desk. Sully is on the bed grumpy that I just took a flash photo before I took this one.

The spell checker thinks "smidge" isn't a word

noreply@blogger.com (Steph) — Mon, 23 Jun 2008 21:57:00 +0000

So Bree and I were told about this product called Veggie Booty. We of course immediately procured ourselves some. Here is Haggis demonstrating her love of Veggie Booty:

Veggie Booty are these veggie puffs(with spinach and kale!) geared toward kids. Or pirate loving adults. In case you can't tell that pirate is saying things like "CRUNCHY" or "GOOD PROVISIONS" and my fav "SHIVER ME TIMBERS " which I never understood and can only assume has something to do with peg legs(of which this pirate has none). Bree claims it is good and I have yet mustered the courage to try some but just having Veggie Booty on my shelf make me feel pretty darn cool.
No word from the doctor yet. Still a smidge antsy. Thankfully I took a quiz this morning and am in the process of writing a paper right now(about motivation theories!!!) so I have been quite distracted.

Seven hours and one bad squid joke later...

noreply@blogger.com (Steph) — Sat, 21 Jun 2008 17:33:00 +0000

It has been a very busy couple of days. Thursday I received a call from my doctor saying the insurance company would pay for the MRI(I suspect they responded so quickly because my dad called them). I told them I could do an appointment as soon as possible thinking this way my mom might not have to cancel her month long trip to see my dad in July. They set me up with an appointment the next morning. So Bree and I proceed to hall ass down to Tucson. This trip should have taken a little less than four hours. It took seven hours. We were detoured off I-10 because of a "crash". They had closed down 20 miles of I-10. This was at a little bit before 9p.m. For the next three hours of stop and go traffic we drive an average of five miles per hour. How do I know this? For those three hours we went fifteen miles. If Bree had not been there I would have gone nuts. As is we went pretty nuts ourselves. We arrived in Tucson at one in the morning having left Flag at six.
The next morning I went for my MRI. Having an MRI done is exactly like what media told me it would be. It was a big tubular thing I had to sit in for twenty minutes. They gave me headphones to listen to satellite radio(I chose rock and the first song on was Melissa Etheridge). I was told to move as little as possible so as not to blur the pictures they were taking of my brain. I had an IV in so that half way through they could inject a die into my system and take more picture. I thought a lot about Bree and at one point wondered if I would become a superhero(which totally made me laugh to myself). The machine made a bunch of loud Frankenstein creating type noises. Today a I support a small bruise from the IV that's it. Should get the results Monday or Tuesday. I am so nervous I could eat my socks. Yes my nervousness makes that little sense.

Today I: left the house on my own!

noreply@blogger.com (Steph) — Tue, 17 Jun 2008 22:38:00 +0000

So I just returned from purchasing some coffee. This is odd for two reasons, the first: I don't drink a lot of coffee and only a handful of times have I ever had the initiative on my own to do so. The second: I hardly leave the apartment anymore. So much easier to sit in here for ten plus hours while Bree is at work and do homework and staring at my cats. No more! I guess a twenty minute trip to Starbucks(I admit I could have gone somewhere more local but what can I say I like the busty mermaid) doesn't seem like much and to be fair I went through the drive through but still!!!!
I have been swamped with school work and should be studying right now for psychology. I have a test today and the tests for this class are super hard(which even the prof has admitted to saying that she gives extra points in other areas for this reason). I am not worried about my grade as I am almost assured I will get an A but I hate going into something thinking that there is just no way I can get an A(on the tests that is). They are even open book which of course by now I know is usually a bad sign anyway. So I have been studying for this test my taking notes and reading the book. By the way this class is Industrial and Organizational Psychology which even sounds boring in the title, thus the coffee needed to make it through.* On top of this Bree and I are moving in two weeks into our own place so the apartment we are in now(with Mariah's, Bree's and my own stuff filling it) looks like a storage place threw up. After this is the fear I have some sort of tumor in my head.
Then we have my lovely little episode in the kitchen I had just last week. Standing by the microwave** heating a TV dinner(the staple of my diet) I began to think that if I was to die right there would I have time to write a good bye note and if so what would I write it on. Do I go for the barbeque sauce? It is nearby and requires no paper but it is a little messy and not very accurate. I began to search(I admit a little frantically) for a pen which I found. Then I had to find paper and wonder if I would have that much time. Should I just try to write on my skin and hope for the best? Maybe I could just call someone? Text them? Would that seem creepy later when I wasn't around? Are the medics going to step all over my last words written out in barbeque sauce next to my body or will the cats lick it up first?
That is why I now take reading material with me while I wait for my food.
*I sound too harsh as I actually kind of like the class and my prof is way nice and helpful. It is the early hour talking.
**Ever since my old astronomy prof told me about how when microwaves first came out(and probably even now) people would take them apart and mess with the insides. Without the protective covering the first thing that happened was their eyeballs dried up due to the waves. I have not looked at a microwave the same since. It was first of many nightmares that class put into my head.

Docter lady

noreply@blogger.com (Steph) — Tue, 17 Jun 2008 02:10:00 +0000

So I finally heard back from the doctor. Level or hormone went up but not by a ton. She is going to petition the insurance company for an MRI. Said if I have a tumor it is a small one they would likely not even bother remove, they just want to know. I spend all my time doing homework! Ten credits of summer school and I am working hard but so far I have a pluses so I suppose it is worth it. More in the near future.

The snow in May and so much more!

noreply@blogger.com (Steph) — Tue, 13 May 2008 14:11:00 +0000

It is snowing right now. That is right. Mid May and it is snowing. After waking up at a little after six to drive Bree to work I hear her say something to the effect of "Holy shit it is snowing!" Of course Bree knew all along. No joke. The past three months she has been swearing up and down that it will snow in May. Hats off to you, girlfriend. So of course I do what people often do when someone says something even marginally unbelievable, you don't believe them. As though this person has a penchant for lying to you. I look out the window and there it is. Snow. In case you take this tendency to the max and don't believe me either I have included a picture.
I had a dream last night that I had to trek across my parents yard(that is now mile long stretching out over where our neighbors should be)* on a quest type thing. First I go alone. It takes me till almost day light but I reach this place that is a cross between a dojo and an American restaurant. No more anime for me. I proceed inside to talk with a frog for awhile(a comically large one at that) and then turn to look out into the darkness through a set of French doors. There is a hand floating in the wind. Just a hand, stops at the wrist. It had three positions all weaving and wavering in the wind. The first was pleased with me, a thumbs up, the second was neutral, a sideways thumb and final there was anger with me, a thumbs down. With this knowledge somehow ingrained within me I watch the thumb turn down. As though I am a praying person(I am not) I get down on my knees and pray to the wind got. The hand is moving around like some kind of poorly faked flying saucer and yet I take it in all seriousness(perhaps a fault of the dream me). The thumb moves up. I run back to the house on what is perhaps a three hour journey vaulting over desert like only a desert rat knows how. I arrive to find my father and ask him to follow me. It is somehow still dark and while I make no note of the perpetual darkness it still holds power as it presses into me. We arrive and enter the strange building still covered in shadow and paper lanterns. A raccoon is now working the counter to a small store and my dad notices the raccoon just as I notice the hand. Thumbs down. I fall to my knees in front of the French doors and pray. The hand moves up coming closer to a full thumbs up with each word I whisper. I wake up.
I blame the dream on my new schedule of waking up just after six to take Bree to work and going to be around ten. Of course waking up at this time is not too bad at all with a semi decent sleep which I have been getting. Nonetheless it puts me in a strange mood.
*For Erin's reference it is where the creepy neighbors used to live. You know the ones.

A month later!!!!!

noreply@blogger.com (Steph) — Tue, 29 Apr 2008 06:11:00 +0000

Oh my it has been a month since I last said anything. What has happened?
Well! I finished four books and started two. I particularly enjoyed Ami Tan's The Opposite of Fate. I spent a lot of time studying for and perhaps an equal amount worrying about my Japanese oral exam. I think I did alright(my teacher said as much)*. We were assigned random partners right before we presented and had to talk about our family using a photo and about our summer plans. It could not be scripted in any way(it would be hard anyway having a random partner) and need to seem natural. I am prompted to think I may have done ok because my teacher laughed at one point...though it was kind of at me but I was laughing too. In response to “how are you getting there?” when I was asked about my plans to go to Wyoming for the summer I thought my partner had said “what are you doing when you get there?” I responded with one of the few things I could remember how to say in Japanese that I would probably actually do, I said I was going to hike...to Wyoming. I immediately realized my mistake and laughed(how fun it can be to be a fool) as did my partner and teacher. I am pretty sure I can secure an A in the class which would be fantastic as it is the class I work the hardest in.
So what else? I had a bowl of corn for dessert tonight. I am also mondo excited to see Erin when I go to Tucson next. I want Donut Wheel! Beyond this my brain is fried from too much cramming. Which is why in place of something intelligent to say I will put a comic...
* I always want to call her sensei as this is what I call her in class and think of her as but I worry it would make me sound like an anime fangirl and not a serious Japanese student.**
**I can make footnotes just like Erin!!!(the consequences of reading her blog before writing this)

I could stamp my forehead

noreply@blogger.com (Steph) — Wed, 02 Apr 2008 05:40:00 +0000

The circus was fabulous. We helped the first half by running the door and did our act at the beginning of intermission. Now just so there is no confusion the audience was still there, it was just a time when there were acts not involving circus members (our act) and some numbers with only one person to allow for change times and to break up the show into chunks. The audience loved us with many a hoot and holler even at parts Bree and I both didn't think would be funny. The circus invited us back anytime and labeled us honorary members(of a circus!). Bree heard from our friend in the circus that a number of people did not think we did a drag act(meaning they thought I was really a man) including our friends mother who met me and shook my hand! We had many a compliment as we sat back and enjoyed the rest of the show. Bree was fabulous. A perfect partner on stage. All in all the experience was one to be remembered. We are talking now about other potential acts.
The doctor on the other hand was lame. We waited an hour and half for a five minute doctors appointment. The conclusion was complicated. My level of some hormone(the one responsible for milk production) is up but not high enough to warrant an MRI to check for a tumor. I could have a very small tumor said my doctor which would grow and raise my hormone level. If not I just have a random fluctuation. Either way I have to wait three to six months and then have my hormone level checked again(by drawing blood oh joy). At that point either the hormone level will have gone down to normal(did not sound likely), the level will be the same and I will need to go on a pill to reduce it or I may become infertile, or the level will have risen and I may have a tumor on my pituitary gland. The doctor who was very nice told me several signs to watch out for that could be effects of a tumor such as loss of peripheral vision and spaced out or no periods(mine have been very spaced out at one time going almost three months without one).
So I received a big fat "wait three months" and some more awkward "are you sexually active?", "yes? then why aren't you on birth control!?!" questions. I wish(and I have said this many times but it is worth repeating) they could stamp "LESBIAN" in giant letters on my medical record. I don't know how many times a nurse or doctor has found out I am sexually active and have a partner and then for a few brief moments has been baffled at the fact I don't use birth control. Like I am a spawn of hell. When I interrupt their inquiries into my usage of condoms with a "my partner is a woman" then it takes a second or two for the brain to catch up and proceed to click into place as they smile, awkwardly nod or grunt at my admission. I have told this story many times but never in blog form and when Bree reads this she can just skip over it because she must be sick of it by now...
I went to Urgent Health Care for a UTI. I was stressed, in the worst pain of my life and accompanied by my mother. This was uncomfortable to say the least and furthered because when I told my mother about my problem I immediately burst into tears(something I am not apt to doing around my mother). Considering that a female teacher once described a UTI as feeling like "peeing razors" and was completely accurate in that description, I wanted to die. So I go in with my mother and see a doctor. A portly fellow who poked here and there then started asking me questions. He began with "Have you had sex recently?" My first thought was "Do women count?" I decided they probably did not and because I certainly hadn't with men (nor women for that matter) I could go ahead and say "No." The problem was I had taken about a minute to answer the question of "Have you had sex recently?" while my mother was in the room. So I said "No" and he kinda looked from my mother to myself then said "Would you like your mother to leave the room?" and to this I adamantly said "No." It was obvious that had I said "Yes" the answer to the question on whether I had recently had sex or not would also be "Yes." That just wasn't true. He then replies with are very obvious lift at the end of his sentence "Are you sure....?" and my mother with no amount of grace says "She thinks she is a lesbian." These were her exact words. I was fourteen and it was the first time she had said out loud that I was gay...in a condescending tone... in front of a doctor... while I was in extreme pain. He then quickly wrote me a prescription and we left.
Today I say proudly that my partner is a woman and mother just adores her so I am finally able to laugh at that fourteen year old who so badly wanted to disappear. Though I say it with pride I still wish there was a way around time and time again explaining why I am not on birth control other than blurting it out right when I am confronted with a nurse or doctor. Then again maybe that would be kinda fun.

Perhaps we should all wear fake hair when we need a boost

noreply@blogger.com (Steph) — Fri, 28 Mar 2008 16:40:00 +0000

Tonight I have a dress rehearsal and tomorrow I have my drag performance for the local circus. Bree is in my act and so for it has been really fun acting things out with her(and I am sure will continue to be so). I am a little nervous as usual but I know that for some strange reason facial hair gives me an extra boost of courage.
I have been having anxious dreams all week. As Bree put it to me about her own dreams, when waking I don't feel rested with such busy thoughts having just left me. If only I could leave busy thoughts in dreamland.
I see the doctor on Tuesday. I also have a test that day. Statistics. It does no good to worry about it before I know anything(very often said advice that so rarely is taken). Perhaps I should wear facial hair to the doctors?
I am scatterbrained in every sense of the word. I need to pick Bree up at the library(where she works) and I go to the forestry building(where most of her classes are). I make wrong turns going home and write x's when I want to write r's or f's when I want n's. I forget the obvious time and time again. What we did yesterday and what we are doing tonight. Why we can't go here and must instead go there. I feel as though I am often questioned and I have no reply or even the slightest recollection of an answer. When do I check out and when do I check back in? Why have I no control over the simple matters in my life? It is enough to make a girl think she is going crazy. Thank goodness I am so secure.

Hello crazy town

noreply@blogger.com (Steph) — Wed, 26 Mar 2008 23:25:00 +0000

Spring break was a little rough. One of our childhood dogs passed on(as mentioned in Erin's blog). The very same dog I saw at the pound and knew my mother and I had to take home. This dog was always happy, as though just seeing you made his day. He died of a tumor and I cried my eyes out only stopping when Mariah came over to play video games and make sure I wasn't alone.(I hold back tears now just writing this) Rest in peace my friend. I love you very much.
The day before our sweet dog was put down I received a call from my doctor. I have been lactating consistently for the past two months. (I tried for a long time to think of a better way to say that and deciding I don't care left it as it.) After some blood tests they concluded that my hormone levels are off and after a look at the *ahem* substance they concluded I was indeed producing milk. The doctor I saw who was a very nice lady from the university's health center told me to see another doctor in town who will be able to take me further than she could. She said the exact same thing that Bree's mother said(which make me think her mom is in the wrong profession) that it could be a sign of a tumor on my pituitary gland. This is apparently very common in women said my doctor and is often not cancerous. I am seeing another doctor April 1st and for now who knows what the hell is wrong with me. I would like to say I am not worrying about it but for those who know me that is an obvious lie. As an overtly anxious person (who recently has had a panic attack or two making her think she is on another trip to crazy town) I think I am doing alright. Thankfully I have a very loving girlfriend and a sister close at hand(and one a phone call away who is the only person who reads this other than said girlfriend, hi Erin!) to remind me of the lighter more logical points of view. It was a hard week and harder still is waiting till April to more than likely just be shuffled around again to some other doctor. All I can say is, hello crazy town, it has been a long time.

It's kind of a stretch but I could say I will be in a circus

noreply@blogger.com (Steph) — Wed, 05 Mar 2008 04:01:00 +0000

I don't put much stock into dreams but I do find them entertaining and weird to the point of being creepy. It's like watching myself in a movie that doesn't make sense. Certainly some themes in my dreams could be linked to schema's in my mind but I am not about to try and analyze them myself. I will look on them and laugh or point and then whispers to the person next me things you will never hear.
Some dreams I have had lately:
-I was in a closed super market with other customers and we were trapped. A serial killer got in through the super locked doors(super locked was a technical idea that only my dream addled state could understand). He then chased me into a dark room where I hid between some dark and looming shapes. It was warm. I then leapt out and beat him with a shovel. I emerged from the dark room to search for the others.
-Evan was driving and a cop started driving behind us. I freaked out and told him to pull over so I could talk to the cop (who I apparently knew) about Mariah's disappearance(which apparently happened). He pulls over and the cop gives me all this info in a manila envelope. The cop also gives Evan a ticket for driving while on ecstasy and only going odd numbered speed limits. We meet Bree and Jen at a restaurant where we all eat TV dinners and Evan has a glass of limes.
-I somehow piss off some frat guys at a convince store and they follow me home just to run me over with their car. I think they were stealing skittles.
-I am marrying into an Asian family and spend the weekend carting my betrothed's (who I never meet nor is ever mentioned) family around and trying to please them. The mother hates me and the father is super awkward. We have lots of picnics.

On another note I will be doing a drag performance for a local circus here in Flag. I am pretty excited.

It came from outer space!!!!

noreply@blogger.com (Steph) — Fri, 15 Feb 2008 21:13:00 +0000

Valentines Day was an excellent excuse to spend time together(and sometimes in our busy schedules we need an excuse).
I learned how to propose in Japanese(I didn't propose of course but it's still nice to know for later). I am entertaining the idea of asking random people to marry me instead of telling them to die. I think if I make it sound angry enough they will still be scared and I will laugh hysterically(further scaring them).
I bought an argyle sweater which I think I might be able to pull off. It is warming me as I write this.
My truck alarm continues to go off at random because it thinks the door is ajar when it is not. As well the crack in my windshield has spread and when I turn my truck on it sounds like there is a giant mechanical squirrel under my hood. Time to show it to Dad.
I am off to Tucson and to tackle the giant pile of cloths in my room that takes up half the room itself. Yay for laundry and suspicious mounds of crap.
Grammar rules.

Totally About Underwear

noreply@blogger.com (Steph) — Tue, 29 Jan 2008 09:44:00 +0000

So I don't know if this is just a me thing but I get uncomfortable every time I go to buy underwear. It's nothing super specific, I just don't like being around the underwear in general. I keep thinking all the women there will know I like girls and think I am a perv. If I hold them too long or go past the rows of leggings with all the pictures of women’s legs I think all these people hiding behind the displays and just beyond my peripheral vision are staring at me. My imaginary audience is an unrelenting bitch. I of course know all of this makes no sense but since when did the anxious mind ever make anything productive much less sensible?
But of course I have a childhood story to slightly back up my weariness of panties in public. It's nothing sensational so I hope that first sentence didn't get your hopes up. Ahem. Cue black and white imagery. I am in middle school. It was the first time I ever went bra shopping or at least the first(and last) I did so in a store. My mother took me to a department store's female section and proceeded to pick out a few bras around my size. I went to try said bras on. I wanted to wear bras because that is what all girls my age should be doing (I mean come on a friend of mine had worn them since fourth grade, I was way over due) and at the same time hated it. Bras were hard to put on, unnaturally so for myself I think, and to me(at the time probably an A cup) essentially pointless. But they were sexy! Or were suppose to be. If I even wanted that. Which I kinda didn't. Anyway, I am trying them on and of course having a hard time. My mother asks if they fit and I am sure I mumbled a completely unintelligible answer. The whole affair was embarrassing. I am sure I was blushing even before my mother brought a clerk over and told me to step out and show her how it fit. Maybe the clerk asked me to step out, I am not sure but the voice of authority compelled me and who was I to say no? I was in my preteens and as most girls at that age are I was extremely self-conscious. Perhaps more so than normal(or so it felt). I did not want to step out of that dressing room. I wanted combat boots. I wanted a tux. I wanted to dress like a man. But I wanted to fit in most of all. So thus I wanted a plethora of things I didn't really want(like bras and short shorts and big boobs and a giggle to make all the boys go crazy) but thought I should want. All that floated away as I stepped out of the dressing room. I was in a bra about to show a complete stranger my breasts(more or less) and I wanted increasingly by every moment I was exposed, to die. I stood there and she said some things to my mother and we left shortly after. And I have never tried on bras or for that matter shopped for them in a store again. I don't blame my mother or the store clerk or the creators of such complicated things as hooks and straps but instead blame my own reluctance to face anything that could potentially be embarrassing and for me that category is rather substantial. I also blame society for telling me what I want not asking me and myself for(semi understandably given my age) not knowing the difference. I also blame the people who created rotating doors because I think they are both fun and creepy.
Due to my reluctance I start small. Underwear.
After meandering around the underwear section(probably more suspicious than just going in there outright) I ran in and grabbed as fast as I could the raciest pair of panties I have ever owned. My underwear used to fall into the realm of granny panties but when I started dating Bree they moved up to plain and functional and sometimes I even get the guts to move beyond this comfortable level to that of scandalous panties(a more correct term could be: panties in a color other than gray or panties with *gasp* a pattern or if I am feeling really crazy: panties with a bow or lace or other such additions). Being an average(I dare not say normal) young woman I have the expectation I should be able to buy all the damn underwear I want and not give a shit about what other people are(though it is probably more often not) thinking of me. So on top of feeling anxious over the whole thing I then feel strange for feeling that in the first place. I start pacing. Then I get more nervous because and obviously nervous girl in the underwear section must stand out and if there is anything I don't want to do it's stand out. Right? Finally I feel I have maxed out my ability for weirdness and instead move into the comfortable feeling of flight and rush off to check out. Having worked up the guts to purchase my panties I went to the cashier with the longest line because it was the only cashier who happened to be a woman. Sexist? Maybe but I felt she would understand better or know what I was going through or that is all bullshit and I just felt more comfortable without a man touching my underwear, whether on or off me and whether washed later or not. I also bought gum and a glasses fixing kit to balance out the degree of normalcy my items would appear to have. This is something I sometimes do when alone. As if the cashier rates me based on the things I buy. But maybe people do that when they buy condoms? I wouldn't know. I am sure the cashier didn't care but nonetheless I made it out the store and into my car with the least amount of anxious twittering I had ever mustered on such an occasion. Hurray for me.
Operation Pretty Panties: Achieved.

Please die

noreply@blogger.com (Steph) — Thu, 24 Jan 2008 06:51:00 +0000

My Japanese class is hilarious. Seriously. My teacher is awesome, energetic and down right amusing. One of the verbs we are learning right now is "to die" and man does my teacher crack up every time we get around to reciting it simply because its kind of weird to be learning such a verb smack dab in the middle of a chapter having to do with "A Day in Robert's Life." What makes this better is we are practicing adding "tekudasai" to the end of verbs which means "please do___." So while practicing this ending we end up saying "Please die." Oh how enjoyable those little things can be. I am telling people to "please die" all over the place now.
Shindekudasai, jerks!

Oh and this comic is awesome:
Savage Chickens: Raccoon vs Moon Cartoon

I did not proof read this

noreply@blogger.com (Steph) — Wed, 23 Jan 2008 05:20:00 +0000

I have a terrible memory. Now, I have met a lot of people who claim to have bad memory (younger people) and yet really don't but I am here(in my girlfriend's apartment with no shoes on) to say that I do. I think (follow me here) that this is what has led to my very slight OCD actions. My forgetfulness which I think has become worse recently, causes doubt and doubt feeds anxiety which is why I have to check if my door is locked five times or press the arm button on my truck till Bree glares at me. Which is why I have started trying to push myself. Since moving to flagstaff I no longer set two alarm clocks. Just my phone (and Bree sets hers too) and no longer do I wake up to check said phone during to middle of the night worrying if it is set correctly. Living on the edge baby.
X-force. A team made up primarily of X-men(and only of X-men characters) that does the dirty deeds the X-men are too squeamish to do. I want one for my own. "Go follow that man who just cut me off in traffic and slash his tires!" "That creepy guy who keeps standing to close to Bree and I? Go sock him in the face!"
These things must be done.

The Uncanny Meetings of DJS and I

noreply@blogger.com (Steph) — Mon, 14 Jan 2008 21:40:00 +0000

There is this guy I have known since elementary school and since then I have seen him at random all the damn time(not just time, damn time). Every time I have seen him (anywhere and everywhere: school, restaurants, the gym, stores, the damn sidewalk...) I think back to when we must of been eight or nine. At this tender age I am sure most of my conversations were laughable but what can I say? I remember arguing with my older sister about how I didn't think "o" was a letter of the alphabet(some how I said the abc's without it, thank you Erin for showing it to me in a book which shut me up). Out of what I am sure was a plethora of interesting experiences for an eight year old I clearly recall this one conversation with said guy I always run into: our initials are the same but backwards. Intriguing in its simplicity or a joke coincidence only drawn out by our own self-centered brains? Either way I think on this every time I see this guy and let me assure you since I met him no year has gone by that I have gone without seeing him. No season without a bump in. No school year without a happenstance. All I can wonder at now is what mundane things do people recollect when they run into me? Is it nearly as interesting as the probable combinations of our initials?
Off topic: I love comics and I read a lot of them. I do read a lot of books as well but still I am enrapture by the beauty of panels. A little reminder of why:

In every sense of the dual symbols, I <3 Saturday Morning Breakfast Cereal.

The More Intelligent Species

noreply@blogger.com (Steph) — Tue, 08 Jan 2008 16:57:00 +0000

My cat Haggis just spent several minutes pawing at my bedroom door trying to get out (it's not latched just lightly shut) only to get out and immediately try to get back in. She has yet to be successful. Meanwhile my other cat Sullivan saw me move the cat carrier and has been hiding under the bed ever since. I love kitty antics. Haggis just burst through my door in (what my peripheral vision saw as) a leap of glory. I just love when animals do what we as humans see as stupid things. Yet somehow when people do them it usually pisses me off or become a great story for my blog!
So Bree (my girlfriend), a friend of ours and I were digging my truck out of the snow (admit it that segue was awesome). As I am getting snow off the front and Ashley our friend is kicking snow away from the back Bree turns the truck on. While it's heating up she gets out to help and goes to shut the door. Just as she is shutting it my mind goes into overdrive and thinks two things at once: tell Bree never to shut the door with the keys in the truck and check to make sure the doors aren't locked. As I go to say this the door shuts and I see that the truck is indeed locked. My car keys with my house keys are in the tuck. Bree's house keys (we were outside her place) and her purse complete with wallet, phone and all are in the truck. The truck is on. I just started crying right there. Not a super hysterical cry just a really frustrated cry that gets in the way when you are trying to talk out a seemingly fucked situation. We called my 24 hour road service deal and it was a twenty minute wait just to talk to someone. The truck was low on gas to begin with ( gas light on type of low) and we did not want to have to walk to the gas station. Plus it was really cold out and we had nowhere to go. So instead Bree calls a guy to come out and open up the truck. Forty five minutes of waiting in the snow and fifty bucks from Bree later and he opens her up. What made the entire thing even stupider was that Bree and I had just had a conversation about how dumb people who lock their keys in their car are and how we ourselves had never done it. It was an all around humbling experience.
Sullivan came out from under the bed and is now pawing at my bedroom door in earnest.