Decision Day

The problem with life is it's uncomfortable. For some reason or another, progression seems to go hand in hand with change, which is certain to lead to discomfort. SOLUTION: Abandon all hopes and desires of progression. Problem solved, right?

So...it would appear that my decision day has finally come. After a series of four auditions, I find myself headed to San Francisco for the summer, accepted to Michigan's DMA program (2 more years of school) and last night, Houston (yes Christine, the city) called to bump my contract offer for 2010 up to 2009. I was so excited that I stole a car and went to Chili's to get a to-go order of queso and molten lava cake (see entry below)! Thus, my craving and my excitement were satisfied. (For the record, the stolen vehicle was my roommate's). Despite being overwhelmed with joy at the thought of a warm winter, a return to the city and friends I love, a GREAT career opportunity, and being nearer Jonathan Fuentes---I want to get my DMA. I don't want to leave MI. **GASPS**

Yes, my friends, after complaining about the weather, my busy schedule, and my non-existent dating life for two years, I don't want to give it up. Because I have a cute apartment that actually feels like home. I have roommates that I love and are my best friends. I've found people that appreciate "Family Business," aka "Family Bidniz" and are willing to play with me. My ward rocks the casbah, and it's small enough to actually know everyone in it---I should probably work on that. And I have the greatest possible teacher in my field, albeit one of the most stressful. And fantastic friends at school who all want me to coach/play for them next year.

I'M COMFORTABLE DANG IT!

But I think I might regret staying. My teacher has recommended I defer enrollment in the DMA program and take the job for at least a year. I have until Wednesday to decide. Which means a weekend of emotion and conflict, the latter being something I occasionally enjoy but the former being something I avoid at all costs.

Why can't someone just make decisions for me? And WHY are my plans thwarted every time I attempt to become Dr. Rhodes?!

Symptoms

Illness is frequently associated with doctors, medication and the like. Thankfully, technological developments have assisted in breaking those ludicrous ties. After approximately five weeks of illness, ranging from fever to sexy man voice, I find myself somewhat healed---enough so to realize that everything I needed to know concerning my disease could be found and diagnosed online. I ran a refined search on "the plague" and am now lobbying to have Wikipedia's "List of Historical Plague Outbreaks" modified to include the 2008 episode labeled "S. Rhodes' Pontiac Trail Plague." Feel free to track my progress on the link provided.

Despite being physically freed from the constraints of illness, I now find myself living in waking fear of catching the diseases which infest the masses surrounding me. Most prominent amongst my concerns? Pregnancy. That may catch you a bit off guard, considering my current state of singleness. BUT one of my colleagues with whom I share a keyboard is infected with child AS is my sister with whom I converse on the telephone---and we all know how easily the airborne virus of pregnancy is spread. "But Stephanie," you say, "what could possibly lead you to believe that pregnancy is contagious and that you may have it?" I answer with the following illustrations:


EXHIBIT A: Chili's Molten Lava Chocolate Cake of AMAZINGNESS

EXHIBIT B: Chili's Queso Dip. Golden Goodness!!!

And there you have it. My answer: CONTINUOUS CHILI'S CRAVINGS. For nearly 3 weeks, I've been haunted by visions of the images above. I wake up in the morning, glance in the fridge as I grab my meals to take to school, and shed an inner tear when I find neither queso dip or MLCK are on the menu. (No offense intended toward our meal-planning efforts Kara). Some of you may believe this is just a witness of my Office obsession, subconsciously manifesting itself in my appetite. You may be right. Chili's has played a critical role in several episodes...

Either way---pregnancy or Office side-effects---my plight is clearly one that is not to be ignored. Once the world has been educated on the "S. Rhodes' Pontiac Trail Plague," I will begin the research which will allow me to publish my current condition. Whatever it may be. Someday I may also take a bus ride to Chili's (it wouldn't be quite as satisfying a trip without involving public transportation), but only once the strain of the crave-causing virus has been identified. Until then, may we all find strength in our immune systems. And in the fact that pregnancy is, in actuality, NOT contagious.

In the Wild

"I don't believe in coddling people. In the wild there is no healthcare. In the wild, healthcare is "Owe, I hurt my leg. I can't run, a lion eats me and I'm dead!" Well I'm not dead. I'm the lion. You're dead!" ~Dwight Schrute

There are those of us who are lions, and there are those of us who are dead. If you're reading this, you're most likely not dead. If you'd like to remain in that state, consider the following scenarios to effectively combat illness:

1. You've got a sore throat? Bit of a cough? Scratchy voice? Solution: Go spend the night in a smoke-filled bar/dining establishment and cheer loudly for Oklahoma in the BCS National Championship game. They'll only be defeated because you---a lion---weren't playing on the team. If you're dining at the Arena, I might recommend the Monte Cristo. Brilliant.

2. You (let's say you is a female in this scenario) wake up the next day sounding like a man. A bit unusual, but not too serious. The best way to handle vocal gender confusion is to take it to school, play auditions for most of the day and then come home. To get ready for a studio party that night. Stay out until 11:30, eat lots, talk and laugh in your man voice---how often do you really sound this seductive?!---and then stop by the grocery store to purchase some nighttime cough medication.

3. Saturday morning. You've got a bit of a Tylenol Cough&Cold hangover. Chug some orange juice, go to class---yes, some people actually have the good luck of class on Saturday morning so you, in this scenario, will as well---and then go out for brunch with friends afterward. Who cares if you can't utter audible phrases at the moment? Your un-showered, medicated self in jeans and sweatshirt should be shared with the public. How else can they learn to appreciate such natural beauty?!!!

4. If the lion in you has yet to emerge, at this point you should probably go home, put on sweatpants to further enhance your natural beauty, and medicate. A couple movies and a half cup of cough syrup later, you'll be ready to roar! In fact, maybe you should lure people into your lair under the pretenses of watching a "movie" and infect them all! An effective tactic to divide the weak from the strong.

5. Having successfully distinguished yourself as a lioness, forget the pride and crash on the couch, using what little time you have left of the weekend (Sunday already?!) to contemplate how to survive an upcoming week of coachings and a pending audition with no voice. Which leads to #6.

6. Conveniently have planned a weekend getaway/job audition in a warm location where sickness can not possibly exist. After all, you've earned 80 degree weather if you're the lion and not dead!

California here I come!!!

...


Jim: You work here, don't you want good insurance?

Dwight: Don't need it. Never been sick. Perfect immune system.

Jim: Ok, well if you've never been sick, then you don't have any antibodies.

Dwight: I don't need them. Superior genes. I'm a Schrute...and superior brain-power. Through concentration I can raise and lower my cholesterol at will.

Pam: Why would you want to raise your cholesterol?

Dwight: So I can lower it.

Winter Wonderings

There's no place like home for the holidays. Especially when your family puts you up in the exercise room. Always comforting to know your family will make room in the inn. Even if you're not pregnant. Speaking of which...my little sister is! I wish she'd timed things a bit better so she could have birthed a baby Jesus for the family Christmas pageant, but she's not due until the end of June. I suppose we could postpone the pageant...

And the snow? It's everywhere! Tuesday night in Ann Arbor we got a fresh blanket. It was Roommate Christmas that evening and in an effort to get myself in the mood for white hot chocolate (it smelled like popcorn and turned out a bit sketchy--no offense intended Kara), I decided to shovel my driveway. Here are my problems with snow shoveling.

1. I like straight lines. I always have. But in an effort to achieve them while shoveling, I find there is always a bit of leftover snow that escapes me and lines the edge of my beautiful rows. I can't stand this thin line of snow. It taunts me. I heard it. I suppose I could be a true perfectionist and vanquish the thin line, but since my driveway already takes over an hour to shovel--I really spend time focusing on my shoveling technique. I'll work on speed next---it seems useless. Never mind the fact that halfway through the shoveling process, the driveway has already accumulated another inch of snow.

That's all I care to say about shoveling. Except that I secretly love/hate it. Or not so secretly.

In conclusion, I changed a diaper today. We're babysitting the 5 nieces and nephews while their parents are in CA. It had been a long time since I had last changed an infant, for which I'm grateful and will continue to be so. I also helped write/wrote my brother's research paper. 3 and a half pages. Intense. And I practiced piano with my niece for a bit. Most importantly, I got my hair cut. I only do so when I'm in UT, which isn't very often, so I find myself grateful once again.

And I like snow. Especially when there are mountains and ski slopes to go with it. I'm learning to snowboard over break. My brother, who is now approximately 6'2"--YAY for tall boys!, will be my teacher. Still dealing with the concept of a 16-year old teacher.

Here's to 3 weeks in Utah!

The END

(DISCLAIMER: The snow shoveling man is, in fact, not me. I'm just sayin'...)

Intervention emails?

I opened my inbox this morning to find emails from the National Body Challenge and MHealthy Wellness Assessments, the U of M's health program. One had the subject heading, "Why We're Fat." Talk about a slap in the face from the great beyond. Included was the following quote by Thomas Jefferson:

"We never repent of having eaten too little."

Harsh. I suppose that means we should repent for eating too much. I won't do it. But I am going to the gym. The mystical powers of the internet and email were too perfectly timed to disregard. And I repeat, harsh.

Trendy...

I'm all about introspection. Pinpointing trends in my life, evaluating my behavior, finding myself flawless, and moving on. So...not entirely true, but as I was uploading some pictures this evening from my camera, I caught a trend worthy of contemplation.








Yes, the trend is food. Apparently, the past two weeks of my life have been joy-filled because they were food-filled.

I went to Texas. Which meant, I had to have Tex Mex. And go to Barnaby's, the greatest salad establishment in the state. Niko Niko's was a must, since good Greek food is almost non-existent in Ann Arbor and I hadn't been to PF Chang's in over a year so...Compound this with the fact that it was Thanksgiving and you're probably beginning to understand why I had such a great time in Houston. Eating myself into oblivion. (For the record, there was only one day I ate pie for every meal).

Upon returning to MI, it was evident that a Second Thanksgiving was in order. First, my roommates and myself are really just that grateful. Second, we had no leftovers. You decide which was the primary motivation, but it clearly had to happen. And about Twelfth Thanksgiving is still sitting in our fridge. The beauty of leftovers.

This trend might seem problematic. Could eating so much, so consistently really be that healthy? I appreciate your concern, but rest assured that it is unwarranted. Why? Because food fills me with joy. A simple cup of hot chocolate piled with whip cream, chocolate chips, and anything else that I can throw in it, makes all seem right in the world. And if I have developed such a knack for enjoying the simple pleasures of life, should I feel guilt or concern about that talent? I hate to be consistently stealing the words of another, but take the example of Michael Scott:

"I enjoy having breakfast in bed. I like waking up to the smell of bacon- sue me- and since I don't have a butler, I have to do it myself. So most nights before I go to bed I will lay six strips of bacon out on my George Foreman Grill. Then I go to sleep. When I wake up, I plug in the grill. I go back to sleep again. Then I wake up to the smell of crackling bacon. It is delicious. It's good for me. It's the perfect way to start the day."

So simple, yet so profound. Perhaps a bit dangerous considering the injury which ensued, but the premise was accurate. Food = Happiness = Health. I could see this evolving into a top-selling self-help book...something about healthy living and living healthily not being synonymous. More focus placed on having a healthy appetite, and a healthy figure. It's a message our society needs to hear. Comfort food is a constant! It will ALWAYS comfort you!

And this is my life as evidenced by my photos of the past two weeks. Cradling the 2nd Thanksgiving turkey may have been a bit much, but...I've burned far too many calories typing this post, so no apologies. A quick run (or slow waddle) to the fridge is in order. Bon appetit!

Who Am I?

Might seem like an intense title for a blog post. Inspired by Zoolander, of course it rings of depth and profundity. The answer to the question Derek poses to himself? "I don't know. I guess I have a lot of things to ponder."

I have justifiably been taking Derek Zoolander as an example in my life and pondering the same subject. Who am I? You might be asking yourself why, and rightfully so, someone as confident and humble as myself would need to reflect on such a topic. Here's why:

We all know that media portrays only truth, and there are obviously situations in which people transform personalities/physique completely. While I have yet to turn into a steroid-eating, woman-chasing monster (my man-hunting has not yet reached monster qualification levels), I do feel that I occasionally experience the duplicity of personalities this movie so clearly portrays. In this film, drugs are the transformation catalyst. In my life? Stress.

Here I sit in Houston, having finished the opera, my Masters recital, and a series of stressful auditions, and I find myself a calm and overwhelmingly pleasant individual. While in Michigan under the strains of graduate school, I tend to feel more like the woman pictured below. No, it is not actually me, though I do tend to react to stress by dressing in a similar fashion.

I admittedly let stress get the best of me on occasion. I become more abrupt, less conversational, and make appallingly racist jokes. When I leave the pressure of my program, I look at my planner without hyperventilating, I do crazy things like read for pleasure, and I still make racist jokes. I mean, a girl's got to be a little consistent...

While it's clearly not ideal to be at least two individuals (I want to name at least one side of me Bon Qui Qui in tribute to my "outta da hood program" sistah), I feel comforted in knowing I am not the only one who finds it difficult to cope with the stresses placed upon me (primarily by myself). My dear friend Michael Scott understands the realities which I face. Some of you may recall the Season 3 Episode entitled "Safety Training." This is the plan he develops to more effectively help the Dunder Mifflin office understand the dangers of stress in the workplace, depression being the primary side-effect in his example.

"You may be asking yourself, "What am I doing on a trampoline?" Well, I thought I'd bounce here for a while, relieve some stress, and then move on with my day. Not! Here's the plan. Dwight, is going to gather all of the office workers and all of the warehouse guys, we're going to have another safety seminar. Only this time, where's Michael? Oh my God! He is on the roof! Now I have got their attention. I... tell them, about the cold hard facts of depression. And then I say, "Hey! You ever seen a suicide?" And I jump. And they freak out. And they get to see... the dangers of depression with their own eyes. Nice side note: They might think "Hey, I should have been nicer to Michael." But that's... not why I'm doing this... Then, I land on the trampoline, take a couple extra bounces for fun. I climb off, walk around the corner... Ta-freakin'-da."

I have no immediate plans to implement such an example in my life, as I am content with my current reflections. Simply recognizing my dual-personality and my poor habits in coping with stress have inspired me to make some changes in my life. I don't know what they are yet, but hopefully those inspirations will follow shortly.

Observations aside, I got the job I flew to NYC to audition for last week! It's in San Francisco and I'm psyched! (But not in the crazy way I've been discussing in this post). "Ta-freakin' da!" Here's hoping I get a year round job next....:)