Listen to this one if you want to know what I'm feeling: Drumming Song
These are the lyrics that get me every time--
As I move my feet towards your body
I can hear this beat it fills my head up
And gets louder and louder
It fills my head up and gets louder and louder
I hate it when songs describe exactly how I feel, but I love it, too.
He needs to start listening better.
Sincerely,
Steph
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Thursday, January 27, 2011
One Day.
I love this song. Soooooo much.
Matisyahu- One Day
Sometimes I lay under the moon
And I thank God I'm breathin'
Then I pray don't take me soon
'Cause I am here for a reason
Sometimes in my tears I drown
But I never let it get me down
So when negativity surrounds
I know someday it'll all turn around because
All my life I been waitin' for
I been prayin' for, for the people to say
That we don't want to fight no more
They'll be no more wars
And our children will play, one day
It's not about win or lose 'cause we all lose
When they feed on the souls of the innocent blood
Drenched pavement keep on movin'
Though the waters stay ragin'
And in this life you may lose your way
It might drive you crazy
But don't let it phase you, no way
Sometimes in my tears I drown
But I never let it get me down
So when negativity surrounds
I know someday it'll all turn around because
All my life I been waitin' for
I been prayin' for, for the people to say
That we don't want to fight no more
They'll be no more wars
And our children will play, one day
One day this all will change
Treat people the same
Stop with the violence down with the hate
One day we'll all be free and proud
To be under the same sun
Singing songs of freedom like, one day
Think about it.
Sincerely,
Steph
Matisyahu- One Day
Sometimes I lay under the moon
And I thank God I'm breathin'
Then I pray don't take me soon
'Cause I am here for a reason
Sometimes in my tears I drown
But I never let it get me down
So when negativity surrounds
I know someday it'll all turn around because
All my life I been waitin' for
I been prayin' for, for the people to say
That we don't want to fight no more
They'll be no more wars
And our children will play, one day
It's not about win or lose 'cause we all lose
When they feed on the souls of the innocent blood
Drenched pavement keep on movin'
Though the waters stay ragin'
And in this life you may lose your way
It might drive you crazy
But don't let it phase you, no way
Sometimes in my tears I drown
But I never let it get me down
So when negativity surrounds
I know someday it'll all turn around because
All my life I been waitin' for
I been prayin' for, for the people to say
That we don't want to fight no more
They'll be no more wars
And our children will play, one day
One day this all will change
Treat people the same
Stop with the violence down with the hate
One day we'll all be free and proud
To be under the same sun
Singing songs of freedom like, one day
Think about it.
Sincerely,
Steph
Never an easy day.
My dad would have been 66 today. Old, right? My mom is old, too, but I sort of like it. I feel I have a very different perspective of aspects of life because my parents came from a much different era than many of my friends'. The downfall to having older parents is the fact that they're aging. My mom seems to be in pretty good health, but I'm still always really worried about her, especially with our family history.
This is my dad's day, so I'm going to talk about him. Karl H. Haas moved to the US with his parents and two younger siblings from Frankfurt, Germany in 1953 (a third sibling was born not long after arrival into America). He was eight years old. At his prime, Dad was 6'4" and had a great German build. I got many of my physical characteristics from my dad, such as his height, build, and eyes. I never really learned much about his life, but I know he went to a couple years of community college in Iowa somewhere and then began working. He worked for US West for probably about 30 years, which is what brought my family to Omaha. My mom retired from US West when I born so she could stay home and take care of my sister and me. We would often go to my grandparent's house and we would have the most German meals ever. I can't even remember what half the stuff was, but it tasted good! I faintly remember hearing Grandma shouting something in German to Grandpa who I was laying next to watching TV. I never really knew what was going on, though.
Dad loved to hunt and to coach my sister and my sports teams. He was always outside throwing softballs around and kicking soccer balls with us. He never missed our games, even if he wasn't coaching us. Every year, "The 4H Club" aka my dad, his youngest brother, and two others, would go deer hunting in NE, IA, and SD. They always came home with a deer or buck and we would eat nothing but venison for months. He always loved it. He smoked, too, which I hated...so much, or at least I hate it now. I blame his death on it without any reservations. Don't smoke around me. I will leave or ask you to. I prefer that people whom I care about don't smoke either. I just can't stand it. (Rant over.) I was really close to my dad. I would sit on his lap every night while our family was watching TV. When I was ten, My parents decided we would move to Davenport to be closer to family (especially my mom's). The night after we sold our house, Dad passed away. We still moved to Davenport, but our lives were quite a bit different.
I'm nearing the eleventh anniversary since his death, and I've almost figured out all the ways my dad's death has affected my life. There are an incredible number of ways, but the two that are most visible in my life today are financial stuff and my relationship with men. His was the only income in the family, and losing him meant that we had none. This affected the route my sister and I had to take to get to college. Throughout the last eleven years, there has been a lot different about the way our family handles things financially. We're good with what we have, though.
So this is the bigger one. Money doesn't matter nearly as much to me as relationships do. Since 5th grade (the first year I was in Davenport), I cannot recall being able to mesh well with girls. I played some sports, and I would grow attached to my father-figure coaches because of the absence of that in my life. This trend has continued since. As the middle school years progressed, I had one close female friend and about five really close male friends. I could talk with guys much easier than my own gender. It just felt right. High school arrived, and I attempted to be friends with the cool girls (and failed miserably). Eventually, I made some pretty good female friends on my sports teams, but it wasn't the same. I needed something else, so I joined the youth group at my parish, and I made four of the closest guy friends of my life.
That was pretty cool. No complaints for me! I started dating one of them (we'll call him Dan) the summer after my sophomore year. That, to say the least, didn't work out, but he is one of my best friends still to this day. I dated Ben (#1) for quite some time after that. Anyway, those things are irrelevant to my post. I LOVE my guy friends. I always know when I walk into a room of people I don't know, I will gravitate to the men. It's instinct anymore. I found such an amazing group of them at Creighton after a couple tough years, and I trust I'll be friends with them for a while.
Ken, one of my closest friends from Creighton, went to St. Paul, Minnesota at the beginning of this year to become a Jesuit. His leaving Creighton killed me. The most prominent male figure in my life peaced out. I had to figure out a lot about myself after the denial went away. Talking with a friend one night, I solidified an idea I had been constructing in my head for a few years.
My relationships with men are the most important thing to me when it comes to friends. I thrive on them. I need men I can trust to be there for me to lean on and to comfort me. I love the safe feeling I get around some guys. I love a good hug and a man's voice. I need strong male influence because it's something I haven't had for over half of my life. (It's an uncomfortable realization to say that...) But when I lose one (or one goes away for an extended time), especially one who possesses those qualities, it starts to hurt. I always have to have at least one immediate guy friend who can provide the stuff above for me. It's important shit in my life. I'm struggling with that right now. I have amazing friends here. I really honestly do. I've never had closer, more reliable friends ever. They just don't have the same type of physical presence.
So I really like men. Some people say women cannot have truly platonic relationships with men, but I am an exception. I am driven to be around them. I miss my dad a lot. I try to think of how my life could be right now if I still had him around. The thoughts are endless. I am thankful for all the men in my life, past, present, and future. You guys are my life.
There's a chance I will edit at some point. Check back in sometime.
Shoutout to Ali: Things I Like: Men.
Sincerely,
Steph
<3 RIP Dad
This is my dad's day, so I'm going to talk about him. Karl H. Haas moved to the US with his parents and two younger siblings from Frankfurt, Germany in 1953 (a third sibling was born not long after arrival into America). He was eight years old. At his prime, Dad was 6'4" and had a great German build. I got many of my physical characteristics from my dad, such as his height, build, and eyes. I never really learned much about his life, but I know he went to a couple years of community college in Iowa somewhere and then began working. He worked for US West for probably about 30 years, which is what brought my family to Omaha. My mom retired from US West when I born so she could stay home and take care of my sister and me. We would often go to my grandparent's house and we would have the most German meals ever. I can't even remember what half the stuff was, but it tasted good! I faintly remember hearing Grandma shouting something in German to Grandpa who I was laying next to watching TV. I never really knew what was going on, though.
Dad loved to hunt and to coach my sister and my sports teams. He was always outside throwing softballs around and kicking soccer balls with us. He never missed our games, even if he wasn't coaching us. Every year, "The 4H Club" aka my dad, his youngest brother, and two others, would go deer hunting in NE, IA, and SD. They always came home with a deer or buck and we would eat nothing but venison for months. He always loved it. He smoked, too, which I hated...so much, or at least I hate it now. I blame his death on it without any reservations. Don't smoke around me. I will leave or ask you to. I prefer that people whom I care about don't smoke either. I just can't stand it. (Rant over.) I was really close to my dad. I would sit on his lap every night while our family was watching TV. When I was ten, My parents decided we would move to Davenport to be closer to family (especially my mom's). The night after we sold our house, Dad passed away. We still moved to Davenport, but our lives were quite a bit different.
I'm nearing the eleventh anniversary since his death, and I've almost figured out all the ways my dad's death has affected my life. There are an incredible number of ways, but the two that are most visible in my life today are financial stuff and my relationship with men. His was the only income in the family, and losing him meant that we had none. This affected the route my sister and I had to take to get to college. Throughout the last eleven years, there has been a lot different about the way our family handles things financially. We're good with what we have, though.
So this is the bigger one. Money doesn't matter nearly as much to me as relationships do. Since 5th grade (the first year I was in Davenport), I cannot recall being able to mesh well with girls. I played some sports, and I would grow attached to my father-figure coaches because of the absence of that in my life. This trend has continued since. As the middle school years progressed, I had one close female friend and about five really close male friends. I could talk with guys much easier than my own gender. It just felt right. High school arrived, and I attempted to be friends with the cool girls (and failed miserably). Eventually, I made some pretty good female friends on my sports teams, but it wasn't the same. I needed something else, so I joined the youth group at my parish, and I made four of the closest guy friends of my life.
That was pretty cool. No complaints for me! I started dating one of them (we'll call him Dan) the summer after my sophomore year. That, to say the least, didn't work out, but he is one of my best friends still to this day. I dated Ben (#1) for quite some time after that. Anyway, those things are irrelevant to my post. I LOVE my guy friends. I always know when I walk into a room of people I don't know, I will gravitate to the men. It's instinct anymore. I found such an amazing group of them at Creighton after a couple tough years, and I trust I'll be friends with them for a while.
Ken, one of my closest friends from Creighton, went to St. Paul, Minnesota at the beginning of this year to become a Jesuit. His leaving Creighton killed me. The most prominent male figure in my life peaced out. I had to figure out a lot about myself after the denial went away. Talking with a friend one night, I solidified an idea I had been constructing in my head for a few years.
My relationships with men are the most important thing to me when it comes to friends. I thrive on them. I need men I can trust to be there for me to lean on and to comfort me. I love the safe feeling I get around some guys. I love a good hug and a man's voice. I need strong male influence because it's something I haven't had for over half of my life. (It's an uncomfortable realization to say that...) But when I lose one (or one goes away for an extended time), especially one who possesses those qualities, it starts to hurt. I always have to have at least one immediate guy friend who can provide the stuff above for me. It's important shit in my life. I'm struggling with that right now. I have amazing friends here. I really honestly do. I've never had closer, more reliable friends ever. They just don't have the same type of physical presence.
So I really like men. Some people say women cannot have truly platonic relationships with men, but I am an exception. I am driven to be around them. I miss my dad a lot. I try to think of how my life could be right now if I still had him around. The thoughts are endless. I am thankful for all the men in my life, past, present, and future. You guys are my life.
There's a chance I will edit at some point. Check back in sometime.
Shoutout to Ali: Things I Like: Men.
Sincerely,
Steph
<3 RIP Dad
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Give me your eyes so I can see.
Listen to this: Give Me Your Eyes
(The song has nothing to do with this kind of stuff, but that phrase sparked my thoughts.)
It's really difficult to see how you feel about me. People around us say they see chemistry, but sometimes you just don't show it. You may not know it, but I notice you staring at me. I see the way you're sitting, and I feel you making me smile and laugh. All of those things make me think you want something else, or something more, rather. If I could just get inside your head and see what you see and know what you know, we could have something more. I want to know about you. I want you to know about me.
Please?
Sincerely,
Steph
(The song has nothing to do with this kind of stuff, but that phrase sparked my thoughts.)
It's really difficult to see how you feel about me. People around us say they see chemistry, but sometimes you just don't show it. You may not know it, but I notice you staring at me. I see the way you're sitting, and I feel you making me smile and laugh. All of those things make me think you want something else, or something more, rather. If I could just get inside your head and see what you see and know what you know, we could have something more. I want to know about you. I want you to know about me.
Please?
Sincerely,
Steph
Monday, January 17, 2011
Traditional Blog Post #1
Hey gang,
So here I am on Sunday night/Monday early in the morning, just me, my brand new bloggity blog blog, and the people who I am chatting with on facebook. They don't know this exists yet, but I'm sure excitement will ensue when they find out.
I'm not sure what the philosophy is behind writing my thoughts down on the internet, especially since I haven't read my dose of Augustine for the night yet. By the time I finish writing this, I'm sure I could have read both chapters and written my exhausting paragraph about stealing pears or some kind of fruit, but here I am, with the peer pressure of my friends burning in my mind and my music reminding me how much I love dancing with a few drinks in me.
I don't mind writing about how I feel, but I usually just confuse myself while I'm doing it. I get tangled up in my words and can't decide what I'm feeling. Sometimes I even feel like a lot of my emotions are torn away. I try not to express much, which is something I've subconsciously picked up over the years of trials and challenges. I try to always be smiling and happy because seeing the people around me smile is my life in a nutshell.
Now that it's 2, I should probably read. Sorry, folks. This wasn't the most exciting thing I could have written!
A giant shoutout to all of you who peer pressured me into this.
Sincerely,
Steph
P.S. My birthday is in approximately 46 hours. Hell, yeah, 21st birthday!
So here I am on Sunday night/Monday early in the morning, just me, my brand new bloggity blog blog, and the people who I am chatting with on facebook. They don't know this exists yet, but I'm sure excitement will ensue when they find out.
I'm not sure what the philosophy is behind writing my thoughts down on the internet, especially since I haven't read my dose of Augustine for the night yet. By the time I finish writing this, I'm sure I could have read both chapters and written my exhausting paragraph about stealing pears or some kind of fruit, but here I am, with the peer pressure of my friends burning in my mind and my music reminding me how much I love dancing with a few drinks in me.
I don't mind writing about how I feel, but I usually just confuse myself while I'm doing it. I get tangled up in my words and can't decide what I'm feeling. Sometimes I even feel like a lot of my emotions are torn away. I try not to express much, which is something I've subconsciously picked up over the years of trials and challenges. I try to always be smiling and happy because seeing the people around me smile is my life in a nutshell.
Now that it's 2, I should probably read. Sorry, folks. This wasn't the most exciting thing I could have written!
A giant shoutout to all of you who peer pressured me into this.
Sincerely,
Steph
P.S. My birthday is in approximately 46 hours. Hell, yeah, 21st birthday!
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