my main squeeze.

i used to judge people who dressed up their dogs. i would pretend to ask these pet owners, "why are you doing that to this poor animal?" now i know. because forcing your dogs to wear human clothes is fun!

i felt the urge to outfit my dogs on numerous occasions, but i fought it by telling myself, "stephanie, you are not that person." but i also used to genuinely believe i had a type b personality. obviously i don't always know myself as well as i think i do.

so, here's my dog woody looking like a fly son of a bitch (pun not really intended).





i wish his eye glowed like that in person.

like that old, kind of sexist showtune goes..

i enjoy being a girl.

except for when my uterus feels like it's trying to separate itself from my body.

thanks, menstruation!

loving, as always.

my brother: what is this movie called?
my mother: the good german.
my dad, glancing at my german mother: ...it's a fairy tale.

still waiting for an ATL sequel, to be honest.

i woke up after receiving not nearly enough sleep. i am a solid seven hours minimum kind of girl. if this condition is not met, i am automatically programmed to be miserable until i can complete a nap, which i have at this point and incidentally feel much better. one of the many times i was unnecessarily awakened throughout the night can be attributed to dewey, my cat, lover and friend, making this awful hacking noise that only signals one thing: hairball. it was approximately 4:17 AM, but i can tell you that upon realizing what was about to take place at the end of my bed, i thought loudly, "OH, HELL NAW!" and like one swift motherfucker, i scooped up dewey and escorted him outside in a matter of seconds. crisis averted.

i straightened my hair yesterday, so when i woke up i did not look, as my father sometimes puts it, "like medusa." this allowed me to sleep for an extra half an hour in lieu of showering. probably one of the best decisions i've ever made.

i like to plan ahead, and because i know that on days i am tired, there is a chance i will find time to sleep in my car in the school parking lot, which usually results in dry contacts for the rest of the day. in anticipation of this chain of events i wore my glasses, but you can't wear glasses when you are applying eye make-up. i am pretty adept at this process as i have been doing it for centuries (..not quite), yet i somehow managed to stab myself in the eye about three different times. so, i was not really feeling this wednesday morning. but then, on my drive to school, i hit EVERY SINGLE red light. when i was born, god or whatever gives you magical powers said, "let this girl be able to avoid 90 percent of all red lights, usually by staring at them really hard to keep them green." but i was definitely off today because i was so tired. so i couldn't focus my precious energy on the traffic lights. it took me ridiculously long to get to school.

the bright side (i am quite the optimist) is that because it took me so long, i got to listed to "live your life" by t.i. featuring rihanna like 85030 times. i remember when i first heard it i thought, "is this really sampling that numa numa shit from several years ago?" and that was it. i could not get past the beginning bars. i refused to take it seriously. but i am an idiot because it is totally my jam and revolutionizing my life.

there is some incongruity in the message of the lyrics, because in the verses t.i. sort of implies that money isn't everything and you need to get your priorities straight, but in the chorus rihanna is all, "you're gonna be a shining star. in fancy clothes and faaaancy caa-aars" and "i'm a pay-pah chay-sah." (that is rihannian for "paper chaser." we all know she is not the best at pronouncing things accurately. she did turn umbrella into four syllables.) but whatever, i can totally still relate.

and, honestly, who can't identify with lyrics like, "i pray for patience, but they make me want to melt they face away?" (this is basically the story of my life.) and who hasn't dealt with people who "said they sold yay and no,they couldn't get work on labor day?" i certainly have. but i most poignantly connect to the description of being "articulate, but still i'll grab a nigga by the collah quick."

so live your life, ayyyyyyy ayyy ayyyyy.

i do not endorse true blood.

i was haphazardly trying to find something to watch, and i noticed there was a true blood marathon on hbo. i knew the following: it's about vampires, and anna paquin is on it. in an effort to learn more, i decided to rest the remote. i cannot say i was necessarily enthralled by the show's premise of vampires struggling to be accepted by society in louisiana. but it's an hbo show, so people kept having sex and nothing else was on. therefore i stayed tuned.

i continued to watch for three hours, attempting to discern my feelings about the show. i wanted to like it, but it was just too fucking weird. like, at one point anna paquin got the shit kicked out of her and had to consume her vampire-friend's blood to survive. so he (the vampire) bit a chunk out of his wrist, and she sucked on it for a long time in a way one might suck on another male appendage. so, that was awkward to watch.

a few episodes later, anna paquin's womanizing brother drank a whole vile of vampire blood, resulting in the word's most unrelenting erection. i knew it was time for me to move on when he announced something along the lines of, "i feel like i have gout of the dick."

that was definitely the deal breaker. but a minor, yet persistent issue i had with the show was that anna paquin's character is named "sookie," which is so incredibly unpleasant to my ears. it invokes an inexplicable hatred in me, sort of like drew barrymore. i wish it was pronounced like "soupy," but it isn't. and until this changes, i don't want to hear it. ever.

fuck that shit.

sometimes people say things to me regarding myself that make me wonder which of the following scenarios is occuring 1) people are intrepreting me all wrong or 2) i am severely lacking in self-awareness. because people make declarations about me that sort of baffle me, like once a stranger in an elevator told me i "seem like a really happy person" at a point when this was definitely not applicable. more recent cases have been "i thought you were a hardcore emo chick" (um, what?) or today's, "you put on your stripper boots!" (for the record, they are black, non-patent, flat, below the knee boots. and while i occasionally may dabble in sporting dresses that are perhaps dangerously close to hovering at the labia, today was not one of them.) in summary, i frequently appear to be really happy, annoyingly depressed, and kind of easy.

i recently had an epiphany where i determined that it would probably just be in my best interest to major in journalism because it's been a career-path i keep coming back to, and i sort of want to be gloria steinem. or chuck klosterman. or carrie bradshaw. but then today i met with my adviser and realized there is no way i can happily attend this school for another semester, let alone three, before transferring. this triggered a familiar freakout centering around my inability to make and execute plans for my life.

but it's cool because i know i'm going to stumble into a large sum of money soon, which i will use to buy a nice little house someplace pleasant. then i am going to have a garden and learn about things i care about and maybe go on some philanthropic adventures. i am also going to be stoned all the time again. i will have you over for dinner.

i never know how to feel about beyonce. i love her pretty much any time i associate her with jay-z. it warms my heart to think about how they did "bonnie and clyde '03" and in 2008, it really does appear that nothing and no one will ever come between them.

beyonce is at her best when she is spiteful and a little vindictive (see: "ring the alarm," "irreplaceable") or when she was in destiny's child. most other times she is kind of annoying (see: dreamgirls, interviews, l'oreal commercials). also, her upcoming album is entitled i am... sasha fierce, and i honestly can't comprehend how the people at her record label allowed her to do this.

for some bizarre reason, two singles and videos were released simultaneously for this album. one is a terribly unoriginal and sappy ballad called, "if i were a boy," which i hate so much i don't even want to think about it. the other is the much better "single ladies (put a ring on it)," which sends a clear message to fellas that if you and your lady break up, you have no right to be angry when another man wants to hit it. because if you liked it then you should have put a ring on it.

just like i know that "ring the alarm" was created solely to ensure that no woman will ever go near jay-z as long as beyonce lives, i like to think this song is the reason they got married. i imagine beyonce was like, "hey jigga man, i'm working on this new song. wanna hear it?" of course he obliged. upon completion of the song, he asked, "b, you trying to tell me something?" and she probably said, "i don't know, jay. but remember how pissed i got in the 'ring the alarm' video and how fast i got a new boyfriend in 'irreplaceable'?" and the rest is history.

as a song, "single ladies" is pretty beyonce-like, but the video is... a surprising choice. my initial reaction was literally, "haha... what?" however, i have since watched it an estimated seventeen times and never fail to be greatly entertained by it. although i still don't fully -- or partially -- understand the robotic hand. he didn't put a ring on it, so she cut it off?

i'm a mouse, duh.

yesterday was halloween, which i don't care about. i'm not just saying that because i am socially challenged at this point in my life. even when i was in high school i never dressed up. (except for when i had a slutty halloween party my senior year. lolz.) i attribute my indifference to halloween to not being able to come up with sweet-ass, original costume ideas yet not wanting to wear something mediocre.

while i usually don't feel the need to personally involve myself with halloween, there is nothing i love more than the sight of a cute baby in a costume. (is this sounding a little a pedo? i assure you it's not.) my neighbors' baby was dressed as a lion, a costume i too once donned as a wee one. another adorable child was a fucking dragon. i'm pretty sure i could hear my ovaries firing off eggs to be fertilized.

on an unrelated note, i used to be totally into remembering my dreams. i would say i'm pretty good at making these recollections. however, i am wishing i could lose this ability because my good to bad dream ratio has consistently been shifting in favor of the negatives. two nights ago i had one where i was in this house with no lights, which was apparently mine, and there was a man who was in an excruciating amount of pain and a baby with a bleeding wound. they were both screaming loudly and it was my responsibility to find the man's painkillers and some gauze to bandage the baby with since we were in my house. i was frantically rummaging through all of these messy, unorganized cupboards in the dark, while the man and baby were screaming and crying and screaming, but all i could find were useless medicines and two passports belonging to my family members.

then last night i had a nice dream where some strange woman told me she liked my eyebrows. so i would say my dream cycle was off to a good start. naturally, this experience was short-lived, as i had this other very realistic, untheatrical dream that was so fucking unpleasant, it caused me to wake up, and i had to be all, "stephanie, check yo self. it's 4 AM and this did not just happen."