It was my junior year of college, I, like every other
student, couldn’t wait for the short Christmas break that marked
the end of a particularly rough semester. I had just started seeing
somebody, nothing serious at that point, but I really liked him. He
was different, and by different I mean he someone I found
interesting for a change. It was the first time I wasn’t going to
be headed home right away. Because of work I would have to stay an
extra ten days on campus before I could go see my family. I told
myself it wasn’t a big deal, that I could handle it. Who was I
kidding? I had a chapel date for the annual dismissal service,
which was good because it would keep me from throwing myself a pity
party and letting myself sulk in jealousy for all those who would
be on their way home to food with flavor and private showers. It
was a good date, we laughed at the jokes, joined in with the
timeless carols, and enjoyed each other’s company, no sulking. We
watched  Mr. Evan’s dismiss with his infamous solo. All of
the students eagerly waited for the  “Have yourself a merry
little Christmas… NOW!”  The line was sung, the chapel
emptied, and we sat enjoying the chaos. I wanted to sit there
forever. I didn’t want him to go home. It was a nine-hour drive to
Northern Michigan, and he had his car ready to go. But he didn’t.
Instead, he walked with me to the dining hall where we ate bland
food on styrofoam plates. Every morning for those ten days, he had
breakfast with me in the Square where we played endless games of
Scrabble and talked for hours. I couldn’t believe it. Every morning
there he was, sitting on the other side of an uncomfortable booth,
drinking bad coffee with watered down creamer. With me. He chose to
stay with me. He didn’t have to. We had been “dating” less than
three months. He had no obligation to stay. But, he did. Those ten
days felt like nothing. Do you know why? Because every morning I
would get dressed and walk into that little campus restaurant and
see him sitting at that booth with two coffees and a Scrabble
board. A year later, he asked me to marry him. Stephanie &
Jesse Wedding [Captured by Studio Cline] Lake Portrait 045

So, I Got Married Two Months Ago…

When I was engaged the one piece of advice that everyone wanted to give me was “everything that can go wrong, will go wrong.” Not that I fault these people for trying to keep me from having unrealistic expectations for my wedding, but my husband I got married a little over two months ago and I can’t think of a single thing that  went wrong. It was beyond perfect!

As you can see from the pictures, the colors were yellow and gray with a vintage-literary vibe. Literary in the sense that my flower girl scattered paper heart cut outs from old books, and my program was titled A Tale of Two Hearts, but all joking aside it was amazing. The  ceremony was flawless. I had an excerpt read from a children’s book titled “I Like You” by Sandol Stoddard Warburg had everyone laughing and Frank Sinatra’s “That’s All” was sung  while we lit the unity candle (my hand was shaking so bad I couldn’t light the candle and everyone in the front row was laughing at me.) After the ceremony, we took pictures by a local lake with the bridal party. It was ridiculously  hot, which was hardly a surprise for Southern California in late summer, but after an hour of posing for pictures my husband and I were parched. We stopped by a gas station to pick up some Big Gulps in our wedding attire (lucky for us  they were on the house. Yay!) Unfortunately, when we did arrive at the reception I forgot to take our gas station cokes out of the pictures, and  look a little out of place.  After what seemed like a million family pictures and a battle of the wedding toasts we drove off to our honeymoon.

My day was perfect.  I wish I could take the credit for it and say that it was because of my impeccable planning and attention to detail. Anyone who really knows how frantic I am, knows how far from the truth that is. My day was flawless because I had God and  people who helped me look over all the small details.  My photographers were also the best! If you don’t know where to start with wedding planning, I implore you to get good quality photographers so you can remember your day. I’m glad I did.

Stephanie & Jesse Wedding [Captured by Studio Cline] Decor 018 Stephanie & Jesse Wedding [Captured by Studio Cline] Procession 065

Stephanie & Jesse Wedding [Captured by Studio Cline] Ceremony 039 Stephanie & Jesse Wedding [Captured by Studio Cline] Ceremony 077

jStephanie & Jesse Wedding [Captured by Studio Cline] Decor 056 Stephanie & Jesse Wedding [Captured by Studio Cline] Decor 079 Stephanie & Jesse Wedding [Captured by Studio Cline] Lake Portrait 042 Stephanie & Jesse Wedding [Captured by Studio Cline] Lake Portrait 045Stephanie & Jesse Wedding [Captured by Studio Cline] Toasts 093 Stephanie & Jesse Wedding [Captured by Studio Cline] Lake Portrait 116 Stephanie & Jesse Wedding [Captured by Studio Cline] Procession 013 Stephanie & Jesse Wedding [Captured by Studio Cline] Rings & Flowers 004

I Love Gossip Girl and Don’t Care Who Knows It

Thanks to Netflix millions of us have happily succumbed to the dangers of having entire television series and movies at the touch of a remote. It was through this drug I stumbled upon Gossip Girl.

Chuck, Blair, Serena and NateGossip Girl, seeing the title gave me flashbacks to high school when the young adult book series was popular. It seemed like every girl carried around a copy of Cecily Von Zeigesar’s books like a hot accessory, but I was never really interested in reading them. Pictures of girls in plaid skirts whispering to each other above titles like All I Want Is Everything didn’t appeal to me at a time when I had Orwell and Golding chapters summaries to turn in for Lit.

Then the show came out. I was definitely-not-in-a-million-years allowed to watch it. We had strict TV standards in our house. The only shows we watched were Jeopardy, Survivor and The Amazing Race. A show like Gossip Girl with common themes of underage drinking and drug use would not last five minutes under my parent’s roof. Thus, all talk of “Blair” and “Serena” was something I was completely out of the loop on in high school.

Now, four years out of high school I find sucked into Von Zeigesar’s world of the Upper East Side. Why?

  • I’m sure part of it is a case of I-Gotta-Do-All-The-Things-I-Wasn’t-Allowed-To-Do-Growing-Up-itis.  It’s a pretty common condition among children with strict upbringings, but if my acting out is watching a show about social climbing teens, then I’d have to say that my case is fairly mild.
  • The Clothes! While Mad Men was the first show to draw me in strictly on costume design, it was the script and story line that kept me a loyal viewer through the seasons. With Gossip Girl, the clothes are definitely still a strong pull for me coming into season four. Part of the allure of Gossip Girl is the portrayal of these characters with ridiculously extravagant lives, and what the characters wearing is always going to play a big part in that.

 

  • The soundtrack. I love everything about it. They’ve had Florence and the Machine guest star along with others, and with bands like The Bravery, The Kooks, Cold War Kids playing in the background, of course I fell in love!

 

  • The subtle nods to literature and classic movies. I appreciate that all the episode titles are plays on works of literature or popular films, such as The Serena Also Rises and Damien Darko. Also, one of Blair’s redeeming qualities (and she doesn’t have many) is her appreciation of classic movies. There are a few episodes that begin in Miss.  Waldorf’s nightmares which are almost always plays on old movies like My Fair Lady, Breakfast at Tiffany’s and Wait Until Dark.
  • Chuck Bass. ’nuff said.

My poor husband married me thinking I had a high standard for quality entertainment (which I still believe is true!), he’s had to learn that every girl needs her cheesy, totally-predictable, unbelievable, soap opera dramatic, chick-flick shows to watch. He’s also getting pretty excited that almost done  with all the episodes of Gossip Girl (too bad he doesn’t know I have Pretty Little Liars next on the queue!)

You know you love me,

XOXO

Honestly Modest 😉

From California Girl to Pittsburgher

The best thing about moving is starting over.  I loved the “clean slate” feeling.  I loved the fact that nobody knew me.  Nobody asked me what I was planning to do with my education degree.  I don’t find myself explaining that between the limits of my degree and utter lack of desire to explain punctuation to ungrateful high-schoolers, teaching is no where in my near future. (Looks like I got that off my chest! haha)

On the other hand, there’s the part of moving where I have to figure out where everything is.  Luckily, I had my husband to show me around, but Pittsburgh was quite a move.  I realized that I had to not only get used to a new city, but a new culture.

pittsburgh

  • Sports culture.  For the small time that I cleaned houses, I came to the conclusion that everyone has framed picture of some Pittsburgh stadium in their home. I’ve never lived somewhere with such loyalty to local teams. Californians don’t like one specific team when it comes to anything. Not everyone in San Diego was a Chargers fan, not all people in LA like the Dodgers etc.
  • Driving. I live off William Flynn Hwy, that ‘s what all the signs say anyway. Nobody calls it William Flynn Hwy.  They call it Route 8. I have yet to see any signs that say Route 8. Whatever.  Not to mention the lack of left turn lanes. As a newbie driver, there is nothing more terrifying than stopping my car with my left turn signal on  as cars maneuver their way around me at  forty miles per hour while I wait for a break in traffic big enough to make my turn. Not to mention the fact that now I have to worry about deer jumping in front of my car when I drive home from work, that’s definitely a first.
  • City pronunciation. Not too far from where I live are the cities of Carnegie and Versailles. Carnegie is not pronounced like Andrew Carnegie, or like a Carnegie Library, it is instead pronounced car-NEG-ee.  One would also assume that Versailles is pronounced just like the palace in France. False. It’s said ver-SAILS.
  • Talking the Talk. I really don’t know everything about the “Pittsburgh accent”, but there are some things I have noticed:

– the long O’s. “So, I went hoooome at four-thirty.”

– It’s not “you guys” or “y’all” it’s “yins”. For real.

– The sentences that sound like questions. Some people have this upward inflection at the end of their sentences. It makes “You went to the gym already” sound like “You went to the gym already?”

And, I love it here! It is beautiful. Every route is a scenic route. The people are really nice (When I’m not wearing my Dodger shirt anyway.) Pittsburgh is a great city; I’m excited to make a life here.

What are some new things you had to get used to after moving?

Word count: 340 Draft saved at 9:38:41 pm. Last edited by honestlymodest on September 24, 2013 at 7:00 pm

Publish

Status: Draft Edit
 Visibility: Public Edit
Revisions: 2 Browse
 Publish immediately Edit

Publicize: Facebook: Stephanie LoaizaTwi 

Four Annoying Girls & How to Deal With Them

  1. The “Giggly” Girls: I think Audrey Hepburn said it best in Sabrina when she is hiding in a tree watching her crush flirt with one of these ditzy types. “I hate girls who giggle all the time” Me too, Audrey. Me too.
    1. How to Spot One:
      1. They are overly optimistic, and are most likely smiling.
      2. They or their friends probably work for the Dean of Women’s office.
      3. Usually morning people. Freshman usually sing in the morning, most likely a Disney song.
    2. How to Deal:
      1. DON’T: Use sarcasm. Most of the time it will just go over their heads. Stay away from comments that you’re going to have to spend more time explaining than delivering.
      2. DO: Use basic words and open your eyes unnaturally wide, while adding an occasional smile or head nod. Mirroring body language makes for more effective communication.English: Studio publicity portrait for film Sa...
  2. Me-Monsters/ One-Uppers: Comedian, Brian Regan aptly labeled this type the “me-monsters”, and I couldn’t think of a more appropriate moniker for this self-absorbed sort. Everybody has a Me-Monster in their life. You can spot them as soon as you start a conversation. Their injury is just a little more severe than the one you experienced, their student-teaching is a little harder than what you have to teach, their day has been just a little more eventful than your day.
    1. How to Spot One:
      1. For every story you share, they have a more severe, more extreme experience that will always top your story.
      2. They only use first-person pronouns.
    2. How to Deal:
      1. DO: Make the whole conversation about them to begin with. Don’t try to share any personal information unless you want it belittled and pushed to the side by some bigger and better experience.
      2. DON’T: Try to “One-Up” their story. They will think of some relative or close friend that has a crazier experience. This will go on until you let them win.
      3. DO: Just walk away. Watch Kristen Wiig’s “Penelope” skits on SNL. You’ll laugh at this exaggerated portrayal of Me-Monsters and be reminded that nobody likes them.
  3. The “Selfie”-Obsessed: Pretty people who feel the need to remind you how good-looking they are by posting at least one picture of themselves a week.
      1. How to Spot One:
        1. On Facebook:
          1. They change their profile picture at least once a week.
          2. They might down play some compliment in the comments section.
            1. “You look gorgeous!”
            2. Reply: “Oh my goodness! I look so gross in this pic!”
        2. On Instagram:
          1. They always take a self-portrait to document menial events in their lives.
            1. “I really need coffee (duck face)”
            2. Inspirational quote + self-portrait
          2. Most of their feed is face shots.
          3. Most of their pictures receive a considerable amount of likes.
      2. How to Deal:
        1. DON’T: Like these pictures. As you can imagine, this only encourages more “Selfie” behavior and posts in the future.
        2. DO: remove these people from your feed if they annoy you. You can keep them on your feed for a good laugh.
  4. The Strained Personality: People who try to be funny/smart/cocky but just aren’t.
    1. How to Spot One:
      1. Most likely this person will try to use unnecessary hashtags on Facebook in an attempt to be witty.
      2. They misuse hashtags by applying spaces between words or apostrophes.
        1. #I’mSuchANerd
        2. #Smart Girl Problems
      3. They misuse Meme Humor in an attempt to be culturally relevant.
        1. The Most Interesting Man in the World
        2. Conspiracy Keanu
        3. Bad Luck Brian
      1. How to Deal:
        1. DON’T: encourage this behavior by liking these posts.
        2. DON’T: Remind them that hashtags are irrelevant on Facebook. You won’t be the first or the last to point this out.
        3. DO: Sometimes the “Do not show in News Feed” is the answer to everything.

Growing Up

English: Mother and child at the show, 1938. B...

College. It’s a very difficult transition between childhood and adulthood. After high school I packed my bags, bought a winter coat, and moved two-thousand miles away to school in the Midwest. I considered this growing up, living on my own. My mother did not.

Letting go doesn’t come easy to any mother. Mine grew up Mexico with uncommon philosophies: family first, blood is thicker than water, and care for your own. She found many American practices cold and heartless. She never understood how a parent could push their child out of the house at eighteen, or how that child could turn around  and place his parents that raised him into an institution to be cared for by complete strangers:  An act she considers void of love.

As you can imagine, I can’t just tell my mom that I am an adult. She disregards the fact that I’ve moved out. I still come home for summer and Christmas holidays after all. When she looks at me she still sees her little girl. She says no age can change the fact that I’m her daughter, and she’s my mother.

On Dorm Life

Every year around graduation time the seniors have to go up in front of the dorm girls, roll out a mini-bio, and give a bit of advice to the undergrads. Without fail, a couple seniors will walk up to the podium and advise against requesting roommates.

Needless to say, I don’t believe that in the slightest. My father always told me, along with a great many things, “If you don’t control your circumstances; your circumstances will control you.” Personally I would rather hold the happiness of the school year in my hands, than trust that to some Master’s student working for the Dean of Women. I mean I wouldn’t want to overwhelm them. They’re probably too busy hunting down naughty girls that make coffee in their dorm room and don’t call dorm supes “miss”. I’m really doing them a favor, if you really think about it.

Image

I’m not a total control freak! I do believer that everything in life happens for a reason. Everything is either preparing us for something in the future or strengthening our weaknesses. If nothing else, I’m sure it’ll make for a good story some day. As of today there 215 days until graduation. Over the last three years I have had 7 different roommates, lived in 4 different rooms on 3 different wings.

Fortunately, I’ve had really good roommates over the years. Probably cause I followed Principle A stated above, but anyways. The worst things I have had to deal with are girls who drink milk straight out of the carton, were too chatty in the mornings, sang all the time, never slept and cried constantly.  Compared to some of the horror stories I’ve heard, I’ve had a great dorm experience.

Well, as good as “dorm experiences” can get anyways. Ha ha ha. Like I said before I’m sure it’s all just preparing me for something I’m going to have to face later in life. Before this I had never dealt with community bathrooms, three-dollar loads of laundry, Nazi dorm supervisors who read the handbook for fun, and of course living out of plastic furniture. It all works out in the end, and if nothing else it definitely makes you appreciate anything you have after this.

Who knows? Living in the dorms might’ve been a necessity for me. Before this, I’d never had to share a room anyone or be forced to deal with problems like this. It’s been a great learning experience. Let’s just say that God knows what He’s doing:)