july 31st 2004
As I've grown up, (not that I'm anywhere near finished, although sometimes I feeli like I SHOULD be, being 30 and all... but I digress...) there are a few things I've learned.
Not that I want to go on and sound like a self-help book, that's how it's going to sound. So with that said, let's all just suck it up and face the facts:
I've learned that you cannot make someone love you. All you can do is stalk them and hope they panic and give in.
I've learned that no matter how much I care, some people are just assholes.
I've learned that it takes years to build up trust, and it only takes suspicion, not proof, to destroy it.
I've learned that you can get by on charm for about fifteen minutes. After that, you'd better have a big dick or huge boobs.
I've learned that you shouldn't compare yourself to others -- they are more screwed up than you think.
I've learned that you can keep vomiting long after you think you're finished.
I've learned that we are responsible for what we do, unless we are celebrities.
I've learned that regardless of how hot and steamy a relationship is at first, the passion fades, and there had better be a lot of money to take its place.
I've learned that the people you care most about in life are taken from you too soon and all the less important ones just never go away.
I've learned to say "F--- 'em if they can't take a joke" in 6 languages.
And that's all I have to say about THAT.
× steph @ 12:54 PM ×
july 28th 2004
THIS is what I like to hear:
Whenever the Moon and Pluto get together, your secrets are safe. This is not a day to panic, you can get away with what you need to do if you just look like you are supposed to be doing it.
× steph @ 11:09 AM ×
july 27th 2004 PART II
So I sit down at the computer
and Lenny starts licking the screen.
Of course, once I try to take footage of it, it doesn't taste so good anymore, so he stops.
But it was funny.
Then I get an email from Anne - this was found on CraigsList:
I NEED FUNNY LESSONS
I laugh at a lot of things because i find them funny. The problem is i laugh too much, which makes me look either weird or retarded, but i want to look normal. My grandma finds it very improper that a grown boy/man my age should laugh so much.
I think if i understood why exactly i find things funny, then i might become discriminating about humor and not laugh like a monkey when, for example, i see someone squirt their jelly donut all over their pants. If you have an objective sense of what's funny and what's not funny, and can explain it, then you can help me out.
In return I can teach you a half hour's worth of jokes. We all stand to gain by learning more good jokes.
This is also funny.
So why do I feel like such shit?
Oh, yeah... I'm drunk.
And no one is here with me to join in the fun...
I hate the fact that when I need to get a hold of myself i think:
"I need to take a pill."
Why can't I just take a "time out?"
Because I'm Hopeless.
And Hopeless needs pills.
My God, I can't wait til I pass out...
× steph @ 9:11 PM ×
Steph, you're making mountains out of molehills.
You're making molehills and there aren't even any fucking MOLES... Everything is clean and rat-free. It has been for a while, and it will continue to be this way unless you keep dropping pieces of food everywhere you go...
I feel like I take one step forward and then fall down a flight of stairs...
That's just what you THINK. It's flat. You're on the ground. There's nowhere to fall. You are NOT FALLING DOWN.
There are no stairs
just the ones in your head
and those aren't real so KNOCK IT THE FUCK OFF.
I'm having "sense of purpose" issues.
Stop being so goddamned cheezy, Steph. You always have "sense of purpose" issues. Just do what you love and finish what you start. That's where your purpose is. It's just buried underneath so much crap that you forget where you left it.
But why do I have to SEE it? Why do I have to have it right in front of me? Why can't I just KNOW?
Because sometimes you need to physically feel something so you can know what it's like. So you have it nearby and you reach over and touch it as much as you want to, but then one day you won't need to touch it anymore. You'll just remember what it feels like. And then --
I'll just know.
You'll just know.
So then why are some things better off not knowing?
Because it's not yours to know. It's not your purpose. And what you don't know --
won't kill me.
That's a bit dramatic. But okay...
× steph @ 3:27 PM ×
july 22nd 2004 * dramatization used for theatrical effect.
Who would have thought that another interested party would show up at the apartment that was MEANT FOR ME and own a stupid PARROT?
I am so fuckin bummed out. Of COURSE I started the whole deal off telling myself "i'm not gonna get my hopes up."
BUT THE POINT IS:
But I think it's pretty much a given that when you find yourself saying that, your hopes are already up there. You're SURE you're gonna be picked first for the kickball team...
Well, okay, maybe not first, because Ryan Trombly is a MUCH better kickball player. Besides, he's a boy. And he's always picked first. Okay so second or third. I'll settle for second or third...
Okay, well, there's still about five of us left standing here, and one of them is Joe Green, who never gets picked for ANYthing because he's so dorky. He's the guy the team captain usually ends up HAVING to pick because he's the only one left standing there. And second and third graders don't know any better to not roll their eyes in disgust when they realize they're stuck with him...
Okay. Me and Joe are the only ones left to be picked. I'm not quite sure how this happened. I mean, I ain't no athlete, but I'm not THAT bad.
WOO-HOO! But wait, did my team captain just roll his eyes? I think he might have. Maybe the wind just blew some dust in his face and he got some in his eye.
No, no it was definitely an eye roll... No one really wanted to pick me. I only got picked second to last because last was Joe Green...
Rule of Thumb: Never, EVER, think you're going to win anything. Because then you'll never be disappointed.
× steph @ 10:13 AM ×
july 20th 2004
Shame on me for being drunk and having access to a computer... because things always come out much more pathetic than intended...
I have things to express but I feel like I'm not allowed... Things to say but can't. At least not to anyone who is allowed to listen... In my own opinion.
Which leaves everything up to everyone else's translation...
So translate, if you can. Fill in the blanks.
I'm "x" with "n" and not allowed to "a."
But am I really? I guess I have no idea because everytime I'm "x" it's paired with a sense of panic.
So the result of that equation, is that at some point in my life, one became associated with the other.
So where did those two feelings first coincide?
And start to collide?
And start to unravel whatever's inside?
Every so often I have this dream... It's never the same people, or the same story, or the same anything... So I guess what I should say, is that every so often I have this feeling... And this feeling only comes in this dream...
And in this dream there's a person who stands out above everyone else. Not because they're shinier or brighter or smarter or prettier -- it's one of those things thats just KNOWN. "Omniscient" is the word I learned in sixth grade...
Sometimes it's an 8 year old boy, sometimes it's a girl just anbout my own age. Most recently it was the dweeby guy from "That 70's Show" and he was wearing an orange spandex speedo...
But that's beside the point.
The point is that the Feeling is always the same.
The feeling I get from seeing "said person," standing in the same room as "said person," listening to "said person" talk to a different, less-important dream-character...
The feeling is this overwhelming sense of peace
There is nothing sad nothing scary nothing to make me worry just total and complete
And I've only ever felt this feeling in dreams. Never in waking moments.
But the dreams make me KNOW that it exists. The feeling. It's a real feeling that can be felt.
I've FELT it. I know.
So the trick is waking up and remembering the feeling, and getting out from behind my eyes into my Real Awake Life.
I know it can happen. Because I felt it. It exists.
But its so hard to hold onto. It's so much easier to re-enact fear and shame and hate and despair...
That's not what I'm made of. Thats what covers up what I'm made of. Why can I only let go when I dream?
I want to dream while I'm awake...
× steph @ 11:21 PM ×
july 16th 2004
Operation Attempt to Get Andy to Ditch Work.
KYJealous: i really wish youd call in dead tonight and come to anne's
boywonder: totally can't
boywonder: need the $$$
KYJealous: how much money would you make tonight?
KYJealous: i'll pay you what youd make
KYJealous: we'll take up a collection
boywonder: no silly
KYJealous: im not silly!
KYJealous: would you make more than a hundred bucks?
boywonder: yes. about $620
KYJealous: oh. well then fuck that dude.
boywonder: (i give hand jobs on the patio)
KYJealous: are you a host or a pimp?
KYJealous: what if i come and help - we'll get you outta there in half the time
KYJealous: anne will help too
Result: Have to Tell Anne to Bring Lube.
× steph @ 10:07 AM ×
july 15th 2004
YAY ME FOR FINISHING SOMETHING I STARTED!
Okay so it took me like 2 weeks, but here it is folks - The Tampax Journal.
Yeah so maybe there's only like 20 pages in it, so how much can one really "journal" in it...
BUT THE POINT IS:
1. I started a project.
2. I finished said project.
Other than that, not much news. I started laundry, I started dishes, I started a million other things. And of all these things, the Tampax Journal is the item that was brought to completion. However, the day is still young, and i have 5 more days off from work.
If my dishes aren't done by then, I truly have problems.
So I think the best course of action for myself right now is to get off this goddamned computer and be a grown-up.
Don't ask me what that means. I think it has something to do with going to the bank and not wearing a shirt that says "fuck" on it.
× steph @ 1:51 PM ×
Not sure how today's horoscope is different from any other day:
Today's Gemini Moon languishes without any planetary interaction, making idle conversation the order of the day. Nothing will get done, and all the plans you talk about will wind up confused and undoable.
Sometimes I just can't get out of my own way.
× steph @ 9:02 AM ×
july 10th 2004
All of a sudden, everything seems like it's falling...
My trash is full.
My hair's not right.
My cats won't eat regular food.
My house is dark.
My neighbor keeps knocking.
I can't find my keys.
My dishes won't ever get put away.
I'm hit with creativity at moments when I can't do anything about it. And when I can, I'm too tired.
Do you ever want so much to be special that you're completely blind to it when you are?
"All your insides fall to pieces, you just sit there wishing you could still make love
They're the ones who'll hate you when you think you've got the world all sussed out
They're the ones who'll spit at you. You will be the one screaming out.
Don't leave me high, don't leave me dry
Don't leave me high, don't leave me dry
It's the best thing that you've ever had, the best thing that you've ever, ever
It's the best thing that you've ever had, the best thing you've had has gone away."
× steph @ 12:06 AM ×
july 9th 2004
So this is probably just something that's interesting to me, but I thought i'd be funny to take a picture of what's in my fridge. The great part about the whole thing, is that the photo was taken AFTER I went shopping. I should have done before and after... (FYI: Not entirely visible are 4 half-empty jars of salsa... And mayonnaise... Whatever.)
Man, I'm hurting for subject matter, huh?
My goal is to make today Arts and Crafts Day. Actually, yesterday was supposed to be Arts and Crafts Day. But like I may have previously mentioned: I'm a procrastinator.
Before I forget, try this on for size. (thanks, andy)
× steph @ 11:11 AM ×
july 7th 2004
So I'm in the middle of a massage today and all of a sudden, all I want to do is cry. The thought of coming back to this hellhole... I can't even describe it. It's like having to go to the gynocologist for a colposcopy, except that would be more exciting and fun.
As I'd been putting my key in the door, I heard her muffled voice come from across the hall:
Steph?... Stephanie is that you? (shuffle shuffle)
I'm in by the skin of my teeth, which, if you're me and really REALLY hate the dentist, is pretty intense. I close my door as I hear her door open.
Who in the hell stands frozen in the middle of their own apartment on a daily basis in order to avoid detection? Keep in mind - you live alone.
Let's see a show of hands...
I thought so.
I'd had an opportunity to get out and move to Brighton. That was part of my dreamiest dreams for about a week. But last night I got a phone call saying it was a no go. No cats allowed. Plus the girl I'd have been living with was moving home anyway so she could save money. So fuck.
Opportunity #2: My sister and her friend, Karen, are looking at places today in Quincy. Told sis I was SO in. The predictable problem is that I have two cats, and Karen has two cats.
That's a lot of cats.
Whatever. I have to go back to work in about an hour. I'd had all these projects I'd wanted to do.
But I think I'm just gonna go to bed.
And by the way, can anyone make me stop buying scratch tickets? Please?
later that day...
I need to find a way to dim the speed of thought in my brain. Not like a lightswitch. I don't dig the idea of "on" and "off." I need something in-between. A dimmer switch - like the one that was in the dining room when I was growing up in East Buttfuck.
What's with my constant need for recognition, anyway? Seems silly to be struggling with that - especially with all the bullshit going on with my neighbor.
I need a list. A list of things I can accomplish so I can stop feeling Stuck. But it's too bad my mind is so mushy, because all it's saying is "what's the point?" I HATE that. My fucking brain. I wish it would take a long lunch. A long lunch that it never comes back from. Then I could say, "Brain? YOU'RE FIRED."
(can you fuckin believe it she's fuckin knocking again i need to board up her doors and live in peace)
I need to finish what I start. Get some of the goddamn babies out of my tire. Or vacuum or something.
(now she's knocking on the other door for the love of god fucking LEAVE ME ALONE)
I find it truly amazing as well as a huge pain in the ass that one can go from zero to mental breakdown in less than 30 seconds.
"Rub-a-dub dub, three men in a tub - " SOMEONE PLEASE HELP ME REMEMBER THIS NURSERY RHYME!! It's killing me. I know there's a butcher and a baker and a guy who makes candles... But how does the song go?
× steph @ 9:18 PM ×
this is me losing my mind
For the LOVE of GOD I have to get out of this apartment.
Last night, around eleven, she started knocking. First she was at the kitchen door:
"(knockknockknock...) Steph?... Stephanie?... (knockknock...) Stephanie?..."
Then she went to the living room door:
"(knockknock...) Stephanie?... Steph?... (knockknock...) Stephanie?..."
I just sat, as usual, and waited for it to stop. Because I knew it wasn't any sort of emergency. I knew what it was about. She'd asked me earlier if I maybe had an 8x10 frame for this Monet reproduction print that "came with it's own mat" that she's picked up at a yard sale. I'd told her i'd check, but I was on my way out so it would have to be later.
So, now, later, at 11:00pm, she's banging down my door to see if I have a frame. I'm shaking my head and covering my ears, thinking that if I was deaf this whole scenario wouldn't seem so irritating.
Then the (almost) unbelievable occurs. She goes to the front door of the building where the mailboxes are, and starts RINGING MY BUZZER.
I felt like throwing a chair through the window. "WILL YOU JUST LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE!!??"
I'm waiting for the day that I actually have to hide in my bathroom or lie face down on my floor because she'll figure out she can go outside and look in my window to see if I'm in here or not. But for Christ's sake, THIS IS MY HOME. I SHOULD NOT HAVE TO SNEAK IN AND OUT AND HIDE WHEN I'M HERE.
The buzzing stops. I can hear her slippers as she shuffles back to her own apartment. Her door opens and closes, and I hear as she locks her deadbolt.
And one might think it would end here.
But one does not live across the hall from apartment 8.
About 20 minutes later, (it's now about midnight)the entire scenario repeats itself, including the buzzer.
There has got to be a way out of this short of ramming a pencil into my ears and puncturing my own eardrums.
So this morning, I'm sitting at my computer. It's about 8am.
The knocking starts again. Kitchen door. I turn and look at the door, trying to light it on fire using my mind, and I watch as the handle on my kitchen door begins to turn and she tries to LET HERSELF IN.
I stared at that fucking door long after she shuffled back to her own hellhole. I was in awe. Still am.
Did I mention this is all to ask me if I have an 8x10 frame?
× steph @ 6:46 PM ×
july 6th 2004
In Regards to the Party-Invite-Take-Back:
boyofwonder: i'm going to have the most faublous party for you jon, anne and jenn
boyofwonder: but maybe i'll cancel
KYJealous: i'll pass that along
KYJealous: we were gonna do the same for you
× steph @ 9:47 AM ×
july 5th 2004
The Lamest Party Ever Thrown That Wasn't Anne's Fault
You can tell if a good ass-kickin time was had by the amount of pictures that were taken. Sadly, we took three. But that's the great thing about beer. you don't realize things like this until the following day.
It really wasn't lame. Well, for party-going professionals, yeah, okay it was lame. But that's the great thing about Anne and Jon - there is never anything "Lame." Things are either "Beyond Control" or "Very Low-Key." So this July Fourth happened to be Very Low-Key. Which is fine. We ate alot, no one did anything dumb, and we got to sit around and talk about how a certain someone (you know who you are, lovepump) invited, or, in some cases, did NOT invite, each of us to different fourth of july events, and then took off himself to some friend's condo on the beach instead.
(to whom it may concern - i'm so not mad - it just makes for interesting writing... If i was mad i'd post your name all over this fucking entry and i ain't doin that, am i?
ps. but just wait till next time...
translation: you owe us.)
Honestly, I've never eaten so much guacamole in my life.
× steph @ 12:55 AM ×
july 2nd 2004
SWF Seeks New Living Arangements
i live in a dungeon and i need OUT. I'm a creative, self-sufficient person who has two indoor cats that i am very attached to. i will admit right off the bat that i'm not the most organized person in the world, but i don't do gross things like leave sandwiches under the couch. I'm 30 years old, female, and work as a massage therapist in Melrose (perverts need not respond.) The small, congested, studio apartment I am currently residing in was a last-minute desperate situation and as it turns out, not the best option (see "My Weird Neighbor.") I'm kind of flying by the seat of my pants right now, but I have a good job and can always pay rent (I just spent the last two days acting as Sting's massage therapist) so I'm currently seeking ways out of the oppressive dark basement that's supposedly a "home." If anyone out there is needing an easy-going, responsible roommate with two cats and maybe a bit of a "clutter" issue, let's chat it out a bit.
If you would be interested in sharing a 3 bedroom 1 bath house located in Westborough with a 44 year old-divorced man and his 15 year old daughter-1 dog and 1 cat-
$500 a month including utilities- I am 5 minutes from 2 brand new commuter rail stations-please call - (xxx)xxx-xxxx or Cell (xxx)xxx-xxxx - for more information
almost sounds exACTly what I'm looking for...
× steph @ 1:07 AM ×
july 1st (rabbit rabbit) 2004
Someone said to write what was in my heart...
there once was a girl
who wished she could fly
so she stood on the roof
and let hours go by.
she said to herself,
"I just have to wait. I'll
stand here 'til it's time -
I don't want to be late."
and the sky would grow bright
and fall dark and grow bright.
the mornings would come
and fall quickly to night.
and the girl just stood quiet
and patient and still
and said to herself:
"I will know it. I will..."
this place is a mess.
you must be depressed.
× steph @ 12:50 AM ×