I'm Back!

Hey Everyone!

Just wanted to write a quick little post to let you all know that I'm officially back. I have no idea how many people actually follow this little blog o'mine, but for those who do, I hope that this comes as good news to you.

Here's a little update on what's happened with me since last February (and the primary reasons for my absence). Well, I was involved in about 24320903 weddings - or maybe less. I don't know; I lost count after the 3rd one. All I know is that the seamstress at Alfred Angelo Bridal now knows me by name, and if that's not impressive, then I don't know what is.

Here's me at wedding number 2329230. Look how happy I am!

 

 

 

 

I also met and started dating an amazing guy. He makes me laugh every day and I'm sure that you will hear more stories in upcoming posts (but not in a sappy way, I promise).

In May, I also moved out of my parents' house for the third time (YAY!). I think this time it's for reals, you guys. I really like my little apartment - although it's not the first time I've lived on my own and I certainly miss not having to pay rent, I like having a space I can actually call mine. Oh, there's also the small issue of the multiple infestations I've had to deal with since moving in, but again, that's another story for another post.

Picture taken at the scene of the crime. Note: missing bait, foil wrapper left behind as a taunting message.

And finally (internet drum roll please) - I finished my Master's Degree in December! That's right, I'm officially a Master of Strategic Marketing. It was a lot of hard work, but it was completely worth it. My only real complaint is that I can't reasonably ask people to call me "Master." But hey, if people with their Doctorates can be called "Doctor," why can't people with an M.S. be called "Master?" It's educational discrimination, dagnabbit!

Anywho, so that's pretty much my 2011 in a nutshell and I'm sure that 2012 will have lots more (entertaining) craziness in store - and I promise that this time, I'll be writing more about it!

Till next time,

S.

That's "Queen Hipster" to You, Square.

Fact: Hipsters are a source of endless entertainment for me.

I have no idea why - I just love them. It wasn't really that I wanted to be a hipster, it's more that I wanted a hipster to call my own, like a little indifferent pet that smokes a lot and listens to music I've never heard of before. We'd have so much fun, my little hipster friend and me. I'd take him to Urban Outfitters when he was good and treat him to a jaunty hat or a pair of oversized wayfarers, and then we could try on skinny jeans and have competitions to see who could pull off the look best (he'd probably win - damn their tiny man-legs). You can keep your pocket pets, Paris and Nicole - I'd rather have a pet that judges me for being too mainstream.

I'm not sure when my fascination with the hipster culture began - it seems like it just sort of happened. I would catch a glimpse of them in the media, or on the street, and think, I don't know what that was, but I LOVE it. And then when someone brought the term "hipster" to light for me, I thought to myself - "Wait, could I be a hipster?" So I went on a personal fact finding mission to see if I was, in fact, a hipster myself.

So here's a rundown of the evidence I found both for and against the case:

First, I started with my closet:

3 pairs of skinny jeans & flats (+ 20 hipster points)
2 pairs of leggings & 3 oversized shirts (+ 40 hipster points)
1 dress from Urban Outfitters (+ 100 hipster points)
2 pairs of flared leg jeans (- 60 hipster points)
2 pencil skirts & 3 pairs of black work pants (- 40 hipster points)
439438493 Shirts from Express (- 500 hipster points)

Ok, so my closet suggested that I was perhaps mostly mainstream, but I still wasn't convinced. I needed more evidence.

Onto my bookshelf:

On The Road (+ 100 H.P.)
Random Book of Poetry from the 40s (+ 250 H.P.)
Journal (+ 50 H.P.)
Jillian Michaels: Making the Cut (-100 H.P.)
5 issues of Glamour (-200 H.P.)
Sudoku (0 H.P.)
Stars of Twilight: Everything You Needed to Know About Robert Pattinson and More (Plus Full Color  Photos)  (-1000 H.P.)

The evidence was getting just a bit more conclusive, but yet, I was still unconvinced. I decided to look in one more place - my iTunes library. I was pretty sure this would give me the hard evidence that I needed to determine once and for all if my five year plan would include sipping PBRs in my studio apartment in Irony-Ville or picking out pewter candle holders from the Pottery Barn catalog for my townhouse in the 'burbs.

I will say that I am quite proud of my taste in music - it's pretty eclectic and yes, I am definitely one of those people who will absolutely love a band and then end up sorely disappointed when all of a sudden, they're featured on some Honda ad and then EVERYONE and their mother has them on their iPods. For this reason, I thought that going through my music library would absolutely be the turning point in my quest for evidence to support my hipster theory. And here's what I found:

My iTunes library:

Iron & Wine (+ 100 H.P.)
Fleet Foxes (+ 50 H.P.)
Vampire Weekend (+ 10 H.P.)*
Phoenix (+ 5 H.P.)*
Kid Cudi (+ 10 Urban H.P.)
Broken Bells (+ 25 H.P.)
Band of Horses (+ 15 H.P.)
CCR (+ 10 Classic Rock H.P.)
MGMT (+25 Electronic H.P.)

*Indie-cred of above artists is debatable, due to increased exposure in multiple automobile and Apple ads*

So far, so good! All of the evidence was pointing towards that (totally deck) studio apartment in Irony-Ville. But then...

Coldplay - British Hipster? Nope. (-100 H.P.)
Britney Spears (-500 H. P.)
Rihanna, Black Eyed Peas, Ke$ha(?!), Lady GaGa, Maroon 5, Justin Bieber, Taylor Swift (-10,000 H.P.)

Crushed, I hung my head in shame - the results were in, and I had tested positive ... for mainstream-itis. I was not as indie as I had hoped. I had to face the facts and learn to accept that I was just another Starbucks loving, Britney Spears jamming, brand-name wearing, perfectly ordinary girl. But then ... (Aha!) I figured it out, mostly due to the help of a fellow hipster-lover such as myself - just because I have an affinity for Britney, Katy, GaGa and all their teenage dreams doesn't necessarily make me mainstream ... that's right, it makes me ironic. My silver Honda Civic? Ironic. My collection of Twilight DVD's? Ironic. My Express cotton t-shirts in all 15 available colors, including red burn-out zebra print? Super Ironic.

But then, my question became: do actual hipsters sit around debating the extent of their hipsterness? So I thought back to the hipster squad I had spied in the bar a week or two before and the answer was absolutely, unequivocally YES.

So there you have it folks - meet your new hipster leader. I am Stephanie, Queen of Irony - let there be PBRs and Parliaments for all...

Until Next Time,
S.

Who Needs Pepper Spray When You've Got Jazz Hands?!

The neighborhood that I work in is not generally known as the best or safest area in the city to be walking through. It is smack in the middle of what my friend Katie refers to as "The Stabby District" of Rochester. For this reason, my father purchased a bottle of pepper spray for me to carry with me into work. Honestly, I was a little shocked at this, considering the fact that I once (true story) sprayed a bottle of Binaca breath spray directly into my eyes and was absolutely convinced that I had blinded myself. My Dad, however, explained to me that due to the special mechanics within the device, there was absolutely no way for me to spray this into my eyes, unless I somehow managed to either: a) hold it so awkwardly that it is actually pointing directly into my own face, or b) spray it in the right direction, but then run around to become the target of the blast. Feeling fairly self-assured that I would not be doing either one of those things, I started carrying the pepper spray around with me, just waiting for Hobo Harry to come up and start something.

Alas, Hobo Harry never came - most of the people outside my building seemed very content in minding their own business, but I knew that when that day came, I would be ready for them. I'm a very imaginative person and I have the tendency to play out different hypothetical scenarios in my head, even if the chance of them ever coming true is slim to none. So, feeling newly empowered with my pepper spray, I started to think of what I would do in different situations if I was ever actually approached.

Obviously, option one would be to use the pepper spray. I imagine it would go a little something like this:

Hobo Harry: Excuse me Miss, got any change?

Me: Change? (reaching into pocket) No...but I do have this! (pulls out pepper spray, points at H.H.)

Hobo Harry: What is that?!

Me: Ha Ha! It's pepper spray you transient terrorist! No change for you!

Me: (sprays directly into own face) AHH!! My eyes!!


Ok ... so that obviously did not go the way I had planned. Onto option two - self defense:


Bus-Stop Bob: (catcalls) Ooh wee - blond girl's looking fine today! I'd like a piece of that!

Me: Oh yeah? (approaching B.S.B) Ear Slap! Groin Kick! Eye Gouge!

Bus-Stop Bob: (laying on the street, crying) Why?!

Me: (standing over him, triumphant, hair blowing in the wind) Because I can...


Ok, so that scenario's actually a little dark and most likely ends up with me being arrested for assault. But come on, what female hasn't fantasized about going all Xena Warrior Princess on those ass-hats that yell at us on the street? Truthfully, I probably would never be able to pull out those moves anyway. That scenario might be a little more believable if it ended with me running away screaming - perhaps not quite as badass, but effective nonetheless.

Anyway, option three is my personal favorite because it involves a topic that I consider to be equal parts completely awesome and completely gay (so of course I love it): dance fighting. And when I say dance fighting, I don't mean actual fighting in a way that is cool and kind of dance-y, like a scene from a Bruce Lee movie or Kill Bill. I mean fighting in serious dance-off style, like a scene out of one of those awful dance-based movies - you know the ones - where there's a dance crew (or cheerleading squad, or pack of city-bred misfits), who are in danger of losing their competition (or scholarships, or street cred), but pull it out in a super climactic dance battle at the end, where they just bring it on, step it up, and serve it all over the other guys' faces? That's the kind of dance fight I'm talking about.

Anyway, if dance fighting was an acceptable form of self-defense, I imagine it might go something like this:


Stabby Stan: Hey there pretty lady, wanna see something? (pulls out switchblade)

Me: Oh, that's a nice knife you've got there. I have something to show you too... (throws down purse and coat, commences running man)

Stabby Stan: What the F*&%?

Me: (transitions into a combination of the Macarena and Electric Slide) Yeah, not so tough now, are you?! (stops dancing, breathless, pulls out jazz hands to signal S.S. that it's his turn)

Stabby Stan: (grabs purse and coat from ground and runs off)

Me: (yelling after S.S., now down the street with coat and purse in hand) Whatever! You're just mad 'cause you got served! I hope you like Starbucks Gift Cards 'cause that's all that's in there!


All right - so that didn't really end the way I wanted it to either. But come on, who doesn't love a dance fight?! Honestly, I wish that more people solved their problems with dance fights. Maybe one day I'll run for office and use dance fighting as my platform. All future conflicts would be solved by a well-planned dance off, and only the most coordinated would succeed. Which, on second thought, means that I'd probably consistently fail, unless the "white girl snap"/two-step combination becomes the next hottest dance move to sweep the nation.

So maybe I'll just stick to the pepper spray...

Until next time,
S.

Older, Wiser, Owns A Pair Of Crocs In Every Color...

Since my Dad did the same for me (thanks Dad!), I figured I'd post a link to his blog on here as well. A few of you who know my Dad have actually asked me for it, so here it is! And if you don't know him, it's a good way to see where I get my razor-sharp wit from. Take a look - I think you'll enjoy it!

www.theroadgetslongerifistop.blogspot.com

To :) Or Not To :)

The other day, I was having an interesting conversation with a few of my coworkers - I had recently gone on a few dates with a fine young man and although he was really very nice and there was nothing inherently wrong with him, I just was not interested. After our last date, this young man had texted me to follow up and say hi and that he'd had a great time. Not wanting to be rude, I replied and said something along the lines of "thanks. i had a nice time too." I felt that was polite without being too misleading, and since I had to write something back, that was really my best option.

Well apparently this text message was misleading because that message was followed by a series of more messages, and they mostly were of the "just wondering how your day is going" nature and questions about when we could see each other again. Clearly, my method of being short and polite was not working. Don't get me wrong, this guy wasn't being stalker-ish or creepy by any means, but I felt that it was unfair for me to continue to send him messages that were apparently being interpreted as "I love it when you text me every 2 hours. Please take me out again." Not to mention that I was starting to get pretty annoyed - it's the Sagittarius in me. Check in on me incessantly and I will rue the day you were born, but leave me be and you will quickly become one of my favorite people.

Anyway, that's when I decided I needed some outside help. I will completely admit that I am pretty much clueless when it comes to the way that guys think. I went to an all-girls' Catholic high school, was vice president of my sorority at college, and work on all-female team at my current job. So with all of that, coupled with the fact that I myself am a female, I can pretty much interpret and predict any and all behavior of those of us blessed with double X chromosomes. Throw a Y in there though, and you might as well be asking me to explain my theories on how to achieve cold fusion. After consulting with a few of my female friends, I got the three following suggestions:

1. Ignore him entirely. 

2. Continue to be polite but never agree to a date until he gets the point and backs off or gets bored.

3. Tell him you're a lesbian and that your date was the turning point at which you decided you actually liked girls. Thank him for the realization.

I wasn't really a fan of any of these options, especially considering the fact that we had mutual friends and that I would have to see him time and again - I didn't really want to have to feel bad for being rude or take the risk that he might not stop texting me until I'm 30. Or worse yet, that he might "out" me, telling people that my fascination with Justin Bieber  "just makes so much sense now." So, I turned to the experts - guys.

I explained my dilemma to a few of my male friends. They all told me the same thing - "You're too nice," to which I exclaimed, "Then what am I supposed to do? Be rude?" Again, they said generally the same thing: "Yes." They explained to me how guys will take even the smallest bit of kindness from a girl that they like and interpret it as her never-ending desire to go on countless dates and have many babies with them. (Side note - that sounds awful to me). This, of course, was news to me. I am a generally nice person and I really do not like being mean or rude to people, especially when I think they don't deserve it, so for me to now have to be rude to someone who really did nothing bad to me was not something I was really excited about. "What did you write to him last?" they asked. "Nothing really, I mean I'm trying not to lead him on - you know?" So I told them what it had said, which was something along the lines of, "i'm doing great, thanks for asking." And then I told them that I put one of those little smiley faces at the end, just to be nice (because even though I'm now in my twenties, I still love a good emoticon).

"Wait, you put a smiley face in there?" they asked, shocked that I would ever do such a thing. "Um, yeah, why?" I asked, sincerely confused. "Dude, the smiley face is like an open invitation - you basically just told him that you think he's amazing and that you can't wait to see him again." "Are you serious?" I said, "it's a smiley face - I send smiley faces to my Dad."

"It doesn't matter - the smiley face is a clear indication that you're interested in him. It doesn't even matter what the rest of the message said - you could have been like "i love puppies and rain :)" and all he's going to see is that damn smiley face." "Oh God," I said, "I had no idea." "It's ok," they said. "Just don't tell me you sent him a winky face."

"Why, what's the deal with the winky face?" I asked. "Really? You might as well just show up at his house with no pants on."

And at that, I immediately scrolled through my text messages to see how many people I had inadvertently sent "no pants" invitations to in the last month. None. Thank God - THAT would have been awkward.

"Seriously?" I asked. "This all seems really complicated for a text message. Just tell me what to write to get him to stop but doesn't make me feel like a total wench for being completely rude to him."

"Just be honest - tell him you had a nice time but that you're just not interested and that you wish him the best. Unless he's a total girly man, he'll respect that you were up front with him, and yeah, he might be hurt, but that's better then leading him on for months or ignoring him entirely and leaving him to wonder what he did wrong."

And that's what I did. And surprisingly (or not, to everyone but me), it went well. He thanked me, said that he was disappointed but understood, and the texts stopped there. I have seen him out since, and happily, there was no awkwardness or tension.

And everyone lived happily ever after. Well, maybe - I haven't spoken to the guy since, aside from a few polite conversations we've had when out with friends, and he seemed to be just fine. He could have went directly home afterwards and scrolled through his text messages to find all his locked messages with the smiley faces I sent him, crying silently into his pillow and shaking his fists at God, but I have the feeling those text messages have long been deleted and that he probably went home, had a beer, and texted a new lady-friend. And as for me, well let's just say that I won't be so cavalier with the smiley faces next time.

Until next time,
S.
:)

The First One!

Hello there friends, family, and fellow bloggers!

I figured for my first post I would just tell you all a little about myself and what to expect from this little blog of mine...

My name is Stephanie and I'm in my mid-twenties. Currently residing in Rochester, NY, I think about which city I would like to move to every single day. Right now, Boston is in the lead, but that will probably change tomorrow. I am a Sagittarius, which if you believe in that kind of thing, means that I am passionate about anything I get involved in and have an extreme need to be independent. That also means that I have the tendency to get bored very quickly and move on to the next best thing, which is probably the reason I have started about 2 or 3 blogs before this one, only to have posted once or twice before letting them die out there in blog limbo. I hope to stick to it this time. (And maybe if you guys like it, I'll have a reason to post!)

My life is mostly filled with randomness - like many twenty-somethings, I'm still trying to figure out exactly what it is that I'd like to do with this life of mine. During my journey so far, I've actually experienced a few really great things - I traveled to Germany to meet my extended family, I recently ran my first full marathon, graduated from college, and am now working on my Masters degree in Marketing. In between those events, I've experienced quite a bit that I'd like to think makes me the person I am today, including many great times with some great friends, most of whom I hope to be able to write about in this blog!

There's so much more that I could tell you but I'm sure that most of that will come out through my posts. Really, I hope just to be able to provide you with some perspective on the randomness of my life and the crazy world we live in, as well as entertain you at the same time! I promise NOT to make this a gossip blog, to talk about politics, or to specifically call out my friends with embarrassing stories about the time that you passed out on the neighbor's front lawn. Unless you really make me mad in which case I will definitely go all Taylor Swift on you and make sure everyone knows (kidding! ... or am I?).

Until next time,
S.