i do not like to move it.

i dislike a lot of things. like when people ask, "are you having fun yet?" in situations when you are clearly nowhere close to having a good time. and the fact that i have to go to court tomorrow for a very minor rear-ending incident, in which i happened to be the car doing the rear-ending and someone in the other vehicle insisted upon leaving the scene of the accident in an ambulance. i am quite nauseous about this. mostly because i hate being in trouble. i do not like to be reprimanded, and i typically carry about my business in a manner that prevents me from having to face consequences for what can be considered irresponsible behavior. so, this is pretty much making me want to vomit.

anyway, i am really not naturally inclined to lead a healthy lifestyle. it's not that i dislike being healthy. it's just that i do like junk food, and i do not particularly enjoy sweating. i am down with vegetables and enjoy their flavor whilst eating them, but i would almost always rather be eating something fried. deep fried vegetables are probably my favorite. since i am aware of the shortcomings of my habits, i have recently made an effort to be healthier. i stopped drinking diet soda because i thought the artificial sweeteners were causing my headaches, but i actually still get headaches all the time. so it seems that i gave up my beloved pepsi one for nothing. and because i don't drink diet soda anymore, i only have, like, one regular soda a day because i fear the calories.

i know what you're thinking, "good for you, stephanie." but i'm really not so convinced that passing on the carbonated beverages has really made such a difference in the state of my health.
and really, research on the negative effects of artificial sweeteners are somewhat inconclusive. yes, they are nasty chemicals, but if the body can handle it, then so be it. and by "so be it," i mean, "let me drink it."

even more remarkably, i have started to exercise in the form of jogging most nights a week. i have kept this up for about two months and noticed... nothing. i am not overweight. i don't really have major complaints about my body's appearance and am actually pretty grateful for what i have. but i really thought my ass would look a little more like beyonce's if i ran around my neighborhood listening to her on a regular basis. this assumption was false. and let me tell you something, i have never understood the appeal of strenuous exercise; it feels like dying. people who say they enjoy it are liars. these are delusions they feed themselves to keep them motivated during their quest for fitness. even beyonce says she hates exercising and only does it to stay hot.

this is quite understandable. i could totally see myself living in this state of mind, except for one thing: I LOOK, FEEL, AND WEIGH EXACTLY THE SAME.

exercise, what is it good for? absolutely nothing, if you are going to stay stagnant at a hundred and something pounds and find no joy in it whatsoever no matter how many times you circle your housing development. say it again, y'all.

maybe some day i will find a form of aerobic exercise i find fun. until that day, it is too hot outside for me to go running until after it's dark out, and by that time i would really rather just retire to watching other people lose weight on quality television programming such as oxygen's dance your ass off (or dancing with the fat people).



my money is on this little chola:



may the best dancer lose, you guys.

20.

as of yesterday, i am twenty years old. this is very awkward for me.

for the past few years, i have consistently felt like i was growing into more of a person i could be comfortable with. because for the majority of the time i spent attending post falls middle and high schools, someone -- humility, first of all -- should have delivered me a punch in the face. although i am now far less social and drunk, i am also less of a shitbag.
the past few weeks i have been feeling unlike myself. just... totally uninspired and swaggerless, if you will. this is one of my least favorite feelings. i hope it doesn't have anything to do with aging.

another issue i am having is being able to determine when it's appropriate to be offended. this typically happens at work when people i hardly know want to talk to me about my breasts. the most awkward of these discussions occuring when an old man sitting across from the table i was clearing off said to me, "i bet all the girls envy you." this was met by a clueless smile, as i had no fucking clue what this guy was talking about. until i remembered that i am merely attached to a set of knockers. i then had to smile and laugh while this guy told me about how his daughter developed early but peaked too soon and never got a full-fledged rack like mine.

i'm sure that he was harmless. yet i would certainly never dream of having this conversation with a complete stranger. but i feel like if i had said, "could you, sir pervert, please not discuss those with me or think about them, in general," the consensus would be that i was being some kind of uptight prude.

there are situations when the objectification of women is more acceptable than others. when they are posing for men's magazines or even working at hooters, i can understand the urge to reduce this person to nothing more than body parts. i am not opposed to women presenting themselves as sex objects. if you are self-aware enough to know that's what you're doing, then i fondly say, "get it, gurl!" but i am working at a fucking barbecue restaurant, wearing jeans and a t-shirt that are in no way overtly sexual, and i do not want you to pay attention to my tits. i can't put them away because i am fairly petite, and there is just nowhere to hide them.

this, to me, seems like an entirely rational way to feel. yet when sarah palin gets all uppity on the today show and every other media outlet because david letterman makes a joke about her 14-year-old daughter getting knocked up at a yankee's game, i feel like she's sort of overreacting. and i just don't want to be sarah palin.

there's always gonna be another mountain.

i cry about almost anything that be can be considered as remotely touching. it's embarrassing and i think somewhat unexpected because i tend to be such an asshole. i am an asshole with heart, okay.

while i am not necessarily ashamed of my emotionality, i am certainly not proud. i have recently reached a new low, which consists of getting teary-eyed every time i hear "the climb" by miley cyrus. needless to say, i hate myself.

on another note, the lonely island is not funny. i saw "jizz in my pants" when it premiered, and was not really that amused, except for the justin timberlake cameo. a few days ago, i finally got tired of not understanding why everyone was "ON A BOAT," (after months, seriously) so i watched that video too. the only time i cracked a smile is when andy samberg used the term "flippy-floppies." this could simply be attributed to the fact that he is an adorable jew, and i would definitely hit it.

also not funny: "like a boss."

clearly, i am too refined for this type of humor.




(haha.)