Various nicknames acquired over the years.

After living for nearly 18.5 years, I've acquired several nicknames, be it through school, jobs, or just because my friends wanted to call me something other than plain old "Steigen" regardless of the fact that it isn't plain or old to begin with.

Here are the ones I can think of off the top of my head:

Ste (Bia)

Steigg (Jasmine)

Steiggy (Jessica, Meagan, Alex)

Stiego (Carowinds)

Steigenator (most common)

E Dong (Jes)

Sexy S**** (Jes, and no, the second isn't a cuss word)

Even Steigen (Neb)

Scuba Steig (Neb)

Steiglitz (Hugo Stiglitz from Inglorious Basterds)

Wrench Girl (Karen and Paige)

Steigasarus Rex (old Xbox Live gamertag)

Steigalicious (Neb)

Steigelz (Neb)

Steigelbear (Haleycakes)

The Steig (Top Gear)

Dr. Steigenheimer (inventor of the atomic bomb)

Stelgen (Riverside)

The names in parentheses are either the person who gave me the name or the reference to the name.

Another day at Red Bowl.

So, I was working a regular Friday morning lunch shift at Red Bowl yesterday, and an older couple, probably in their sixties, comes in to eat lunch. I sat them down at the booth that is located right behind the hostess stand. After doing so, I gave them their menus, and went back to my stand.

While I'm looking around the restaurant right after seating these people, I realize the woman unzipping her jacket. Okay, normal. NOT. As she starts zipping lower and lower, I realize this woman has nothing but a blue laced bra underneath her jacket.

I panic. Do I tell her that she doesn't have a shirt on? Does she REALIZE she doesn't have a shirt on? Does her husband notice? Has anyone else noticed? Did she purposely unzip her jacket well aware of the fact that she didn't have a shirt on DESPITE the fact that it is COMPLETELY inappropriate to dine in your undergarments?

Before I had time to clear my head of all of these thoughts, the woman, who has completely unzipped her jacket and is about to remove it, realizes the fact that she doesn't have a shirt on, and says to her prospective husband "Oh, I forgot that I don't have a shirt on underneath my jacket. That's embarrassing. I hope no one else saw that" in the calmest, most unphased voice ever. She zipped her jacket back up to the top, and went on her merry way.

Thank God I didn't have to tell her. Remember when you don't have shirts on under your jackets, kids, to avoid disasters like this.

I am so lucky.

I am so thankful for my roommate, Jes.

Not only do we have an amazing story of how we met and became roommates, but because of how everything has played out, there's no way that it couldn't have been fate that brought us together.

Long story short, we both lived in Brazil and went to the same school, simply at different times. I went to this school during my 7th and 8th grade years, while Jes attended this school during her 11th grade year.

One day during my senior year I was just Facebook lurking (as usual) and I stumbled upon Jes' profile and realized that we had a lot of friends in common from Brazil, and that she lived in Lexington, so I decided to add her. Lucky for me, she accepted. Much later on, when it was getting closer to the end of my first semester of senior year, I was telling a mutual friend of ours, Maiane, about how I was going to USC for International Business and Chinese. Jes saw this and decided to message me, asking if I had a roommate yet and if I'd be interested.

Of course I said yes.

After that I found out that Jes was actually cousins with two people I had classes with when I lived in Brazil four years ago, and that we had a lot more in common than we thought.

Now we're roommates, and I couldn't be happier. Even though I plan on switching my major, Jes and I still constantly help each other out as much as we can on assignments. Good thing for us, I'm good at English, and she is good at math, so we are able to help each other in fields that the other isn't as strong in. Anytime something is bothering us, there is never the feeling of hostility or being unable to talk about our thoughts. If there's a problem, the only way to fix it is by talking it out. I can honestly say that she has become one of my best friends. She pushes me to do well because she wants to see me achieve everything I put my mind to to the best of my ability, and I couldn't thank her enough.

I hope that others are able to get as lucky as I did when receiving a roommate. This is for you, Jes. My roomie, my friend, my S*** M*** M*** ;]

What doesn't make sense?

You spend 13 years in free, public, elementary, middle, and high schools. You go to these schools five days a week for eight hours straight. You get a small half hour lunch break in the middle. You get a small two week vacation for Christmas, and a mere two months for Summer break.

You're basically put in school for 40 hours during the week, half of which isn't even spent productively. Then you receive a small break for all of the wasted time, then it's back to the ole' grind. And, again, this is all free.

What doesn't make sense, is when you go to college, you spend a minimum of $5,000 (depending on where you go, for me it's $10,000) a semester to go to school, spend probably a total of 2-4 hours actually spent IN CLASS a day, you get more than a mere half hour for a lunch break, you receive not only an entire MONTH for Christmas Break and THREE MONTHS for Summer break, but you also receive a four-day weekend called "Fall break" at some point in October/November.

Doesn't make sense. You spend more time in public school for free, while you spend less time in college for (insert amount here).

Currently listening to: Neunundneunzig Luftballons by Nena

Have you ever thought about amnesia?

Sometimes when I'm studying at my desk for long periods of time, I get up for a break, forgetting the fact that my bed is lofted with metal. I get up suddenly, and sit back down suddenly from hitting my head on the metal, followed by throbbing pain.

When I do this, or hit my head on anything for that matter, I wonder about if I got amnesia from hitting my head too hard. I wonder about the following:

1) How would I remember anything, and how much I would forget?

2) Would I need to retake a lot of my classes?

3) If people I'd met recently came up to me and told me their relationship to me, would I believe them?

4) Would I forget how to do my job at Red Bowl?

It's sad that I actually thought about if I would forget how to host correctly at Red Bowl. But honestly, that would be a disaster.

I know this is somewhat similar to the death blog. But it's these kinds of things that I think about that make me wonder, and it's so difficult to wrap my brain around. Kind of like it's hard to wrap my brain around the concept of a black hole.

Hopefully I won't get amnesia anytime soon. Because that would be quite terrible.

Currently listening to: Anonanimal by Andrew Bird

I like tattoos and piercings.

Like, a lot.

But you know what prevents me from getting even more piercings and my first tattoo?

1) Fear of my mother seeing it and me facing her wrath. (Oh dear.)

2) Fear of not getting a job.

I mean, sure, I could get a tattoo that was easy to hide, but then what would be the point of that? Nothing, I say. Nothing. And there IS a way to make a lot of holes in my ears look classy...ok, maybe not.

I have two tattoo ideas. One of them is something I've been thinking of for

about half a year now, and it's two koi fish (one black with a white spot, one white with a black spot) swimming around each other in a circle to form the Yin Yang symbol. Something like this:

Or like this:

I kind of want it to be small and go on my wrist. But that would be SUPER HARD to hide. Ugh.

My other tattoo that I have in mind has a lot more meaning. Before I actually lived in Brazil, my mom and I visited there each summer three summers prior; every time we visited, I would always get a henna tattoo of this kind of stenciled panther. It looked really cool, and I got the same one every year, in the same spot on my right upper shoulder. So what I wanted to do was get the real thing, either in the same spot, or perhaps on a shoulder blade. And in the eye of the panther I would have the Brazilian flag reflected in it.

As for piercings, I just really want my nose pierced, but fear that it wouldn't look right on me.

-sigh- Decisions decisions.

Currently listening to: Hide Your Love Away by Pearl Jam

Second guessing.

I have a really bad habit of second guessing myself.

As you may or may not know, recently I've REALLY been getting into photography. I received a Canon 12 megapixel Xsi SLR camera this past Christ

mas from my dear grandmother, and I've been putting it to more and more use every day.

I'm excited because hopefully THIS Christmas, which is only about a month and a half away, I will receive an external flash for said camera. I ALSO got a job at the Red Bowl Asian Bistro near campus (ok, maybe not near, about half an hour actually) and hope to save up for a Telephoto lens for long distance shots, and perhaps a Macro lens to take close, detailed shots.

All of this excitement makes me wonder: Am I in the right major? I'

m currently aspiring to enter the International Business program here at USC, and if I don't, I'd do Management and Management Science (global supply chain). This has NOTHING to do with photography, something I really enjoy. Although, I AM taking German and Mandarin, which I DO enjoy.

Can you see why I'm at a loss here?

I want to travel the world and be successful. And by successful, I mean I want to live comfortably. With photography, it's either you make it big or you don't. Which is bad.

DING. I think I just answered my own question: Keep sticking wit

h International Business, and if I do end up traveling the world, take pictures and document it. Do small jobs, be in in the US or in Germany or Switzerland

or China or Taiwan or Australia or Japan or ANYWHERE in the world.

Here's a picture from my latest outing with Jes:

Currently listening to: Hide and Seek by Imogen Heap

Have you ever thought about death?

Specifically your death?

No, not your actual death. Of course you don't know that yet, otherwise you wouldn't be reading this blog right now. But, have you ever wondered how you might die? I contemplate it from time to time, mostly when I'm watching action movies where people die by getting shot or getting burned alive in fires or crashing their planes, etc.

I bring up the topic because tonight I watched "Fly Boys" at Katie's movie night, and so many people died. American pilots helping serve the French against Germany were given pistols to shoot themselves with if they were closing in on death. The quote went something like this:

"Plane catches fire you got three choices: You can burn with it all the way to the ground; You can jump several thousand feet; or you can take the quick and painless way out."

It made me think about which choice I'd pick if I were in that situation. If I knew there was no hope, I'd probably shoot myself with the pistol. But what if I was an idiot and shot wrong? It'd be a slow and painful death...at least until I crashed.

If I jumped, I'd get some sky diving in and then plummet to my death below, but even then there is a slight possibility I could still live through that. Then I'd have to wait to die, because obviously no one would find me. That would be a very slow and painful death.

If I let myself burn with my plane, sure I guess I'd die with dignity (sort of). But that would also be slow and painful. Really, really painful.

When I end up thinking about these things, I think about my own death. I have a mini freak out session because 1)I don't want to die slowly and painfully. I want to die quickly, and hopefully peacefully, and 2)Because at times, I become very afraid of death, and what comes after it. I won't get into a whole religion discussion about it, but whenever I freak out, I convince myself that either heaven exists and I'm going to it, or that I will be reborn into a new life.

I guess I believe the heaven thing more simply because I was raised to believe in it, but I like the idea of reincarnation.

Currently listening to: Finally Moving by Pretty Lights

My definition of a great day.

Today, I definitely woke up on the right side of the bed.

Why exactly? I'll give you a short (but important) list.

1) I woke up before my alarm, completely energized with no trace of grogginess.

2) Went to German class and beasted my vocabulary quiz.

3) Later performed my Chinese Midterm with Jess and Nick; we got a 95.

4) Checked the grade for the last math test I took, and got an 89, bringing my average up to a B! (a low B, but a B nonetheless. This is VERY significant, if you know me)

5) After everyone was long gone and USC turned into a ghost town, Jess suggested we go on an adventure to take pictures, and the pictures turned out REALLY well. (see above picture)

Only downside of today? I realized one of my pet peeves: the click clacking of high heels.

In front of me.

For 10 minutes.

All. The. Way. To. Class.

Currently listening to: Campus by Vampire Weekend

So, what exactly IS a Steigen?

Why, I am a Steigen, you silly head. And I'm a human being...mostly.

But seriously, let's get real. Steigen's my name. It's Swedish; I was named after my dad, Steig. So original, right? I like to think so. Some have told me that it's supposed to be literally translated into "Steven" in Swedish, but my research would tell me otherwise.

Why am I here?

I'm not exactly sure why I started this blog. I want to talk about my life, and pretend that people actually take the time to read about it. I also like to tell others about fun facts that you wouldn't learn in your normal textbook academic teachings, and music that you wouldn't hear on every-day radio. For example: Laughing helps you live longer. I'm sure many people know that, but at least one person who stumbled upon this blog just learned something new.

AND BAM! That's how something spreads.

Like wildfire.

...or cancer. (too much?)

Currently listening to: Heart Skipped a Beat by The Xx