hello june 1st

stephanies peak blogging hours are between 3 and 5 in the morning.

something loud just fell in the other room. im a little scared to go see what it was. oh well.
typing with a puppy in your lap is haaard.
jck kjc cvmmvmv,.kjhkm <-- she typed that. heh.

fuck i miss work.

my head has been hurting so god damned bad lately. i dont know what it is. maybe all the stress and having no way to identify myself may have something to do with it. eh? bah.

im getting that black feeling again. and searching ol spots for hidden shades of silver.

dont know what that means? too bad.

for all the creative minds in the world and all the people that claim to be "deep", all those self proclaimed prophets and stunningly brilliant thinkers i sure as hell have not found someone who gets me.


sigh.

that would be awesome right about now.

now?

dream

a weird one.

im living in the house on hackeberry. im in high school. i go to edison. hmm. one morning i get up late, everyone in the house is gone. i throw on my clothes, grab my stuff and run out. i go across the street through my grandparents [who live in that house by the way] driveway and through their backyard. the two part yard is gone, now its only alot of grass and tiny trees. i barely notice my granmdother standing out on the porch back there but as i pass i yell to her and hear her say "who is that i dont recognize your voice are you leaving?" i run on into the alley behind their yard and towards my school. i start to pass a bunch of tiny houses and i relaize that stephen lives there and as i pass his house i see him coming out to lock his door. i stop and call to him. he sees me and asks me where im off to. i tell him and notice hes wearing a brackenridge polo. weird. we hang out a bit with the brack kids and i leave. i somehow manage to get quite lost. im on a secluded road that runs parallel to a river. im on the riverside. i see bubbles coming to the surface, slowly at first them churning. a huuuuge alligator rises to the top and floats there. im terrified. i pull out my cell phone and call for help, telling the police what im seeing. they tell me to book. i do. i follow the road. [it now has streams of water running down it] im getting confused, this road is leading down, how can that be? what the hell, theres a wall in front of me made of dirt, how... i see a little entrance way in the dirt, i go in. the walls are soft and brown all i can smell is earth. i dont know how to get out i need to get out. then i spot a little window smudged and covered in condensation. i look in and see a tiny room with a man sitting at a desk, typing and smoking a cigarette. i push the window open and ask him how to get out. he points and says UP. i look up and see a tiny spot of light. reaching into the dirt wall i find a ladder embedded there. i climb. the dirt is in my eyes and in my mouth, im drowning. god help me. then im out. and i wake up.



everyone is in a bad mood today. i dont know if its this house or if its anything to be worried about.

i just know that ifeel like shit.

woo.

she wakes up

at 6 pm. she hears nothing in the house around her, nothing at all. memories from earlier in the morning come to her. something about bridal boutiques and harsh words. maybe something about money. She rolls over quickly, suddenly awake….. but ….. Fuck, that's right, she doesn't have a job anymore. The late afternoon dreams are ok to have now. they come better after 4 anyway. Lucky her. End sarcasm. She gets up. A day unfolds and she takes every advantage, takes a few punches and fights for a state of ease.

I stood in parking lot full water and wondered where my mind had gone.

Tonight was interesting to say the least. We struggled to find things. We were antsy and energetic, yet thoughtful and somber. We were the epitome of "I don't know", yet we needed to do something.

Finally we went to the park. The park that ive written about here before the beautiful peninsula and the calming water. out there, with the nature and whatnot. the frogs singing and the ducks laughing. the city shining. at a distance. The moon almost full and the talk of people from our pasts. We drank, we laughed. Then. The cops came. We were questioned and we made shadow puppets out of the lights they shone on us. the other folks at the lake got tickets, we just got a goodnight and good luck. we were fishing after all. heh.

"watch out for those indie kids in the park after hours. Listening to sad music and cutting themselves…."

We left.

After wards we went to abes old pool at the old place. We swam and drank more. I was feeling light headed now, and wondering why the water was so soft. Yea. Jon and abe then decided to dunk me about 10 times consecutively. The flurry of water and the gaps of sky i caught between led to a I heart huckabees moment of existential proportions. I saw things coming, I felt things leaving and I held things standing near. If only for a second or two between breaths.

Afterwards I stole a plant from the bathroom.

on the way home i sat in the back, quiet and still a little wet. cool but refreshed. i held my head near the window and felt the wind wrap itself around my entire body, heard it whoosh whoosh whooshing past my ears and for a moment i could have slept there in that place, safe and fast as it was. with my hair flicking me awake every other second or so.

And I am now home.

Sleeeeeepy.

A day.

My day.

by me.

vast

a list

-losing my job sucked. im still reeling. and im almost missing hearing the day to day bullshit from everyone there in that cubicle family. its going to be slow for the next few weeks. me with no money and a bruised sense of ambition in the finding a new gig thing. ah well. what can i do? beg? plead? no thanks. i guess asking people for reservation information can be handled by someone else. as for me ill find solace in the toys and the pets. maybe. MAYBE in food. bah.
-i cant wait to get the fuck out of here. i just cant fucking wait.
-saw my father today. the fact that hes getting weirder and weirder is just a little reminder that hes also getting older and older. heart attack memories and his grey mustache is worrying me. the old man. my old man. all i can do when i see him is listen to him ramble on about my tias and watch him torture the cat with cuddles. its the lost look in his eyes that gets me the most. the fact that hes not really here most of the time, or on loan from the drunken stupor that is his day to day.
oy.
-ive been taking inventory of what i have lately. been jotting notes on the different sections of stephanie. most of my notes have become scrambled. written in a language only the deeper sense of me knows. it makes it hard when i have to go back and check them. i dont understand. whats going on here? why am i deep in that old feeling of "wait, im may be fucking up here". i talk myself out of the weirdest things. the best things. even this paragraph. this bullet. im not real sure what i mean.
-i had a balloon at work the other day. it died.
-jonathan has just reminded me that i wont have a computer soon. this thought makes me sad. im so fond of blogging. fucking jonathan.
-i had a dream the other night. a single color scheme and alot of words exchanged between me and a person who doesnt exist anymore. we talked and laughed, talked and cried, talked and held hands. in the end we stood a little too close together and the color that was so prominent in the entire world was fading, slowly as if it knew that the time for waking was near. i woke up late. as usual. and ran off to work. our conversation was soon forgotten. hopefully he told his friends when he woke up on the other side of somewhere. hopefully it meant the same to him. who knows.
-i plan on learning how to play a musical instrument soon. piano maybe?
-6. for no other reason other than that. 6.
-im going to miss typing this:
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asking:
so what brings you down to tunica?

blahhhhh.



thats the end of the list.

ive lost all will to blog. its like dragging out death. im not going to be able to do this anymore and i cant even go out with some kind of .... see? i just lost my thought. right then. fuck me.


night blogspot.

blog blog blog. i am stephanie and i blog.

so the night is leading up to morning now and im here at the computer again.
jobless.
yessir ive lost the old job. west has decided im not worthy to take reservations anymore. and im left at home with a few to little ideas about what to do. of course finding another job is in order. of course ill have to keep the plans i ad. of course.
its just another thing after all.
just another thing to dance around and fight.
but hey.
life and that whole saying eh?

another thing. well many other things come to my mind here. the amusing twinge is in my head, with all its plays and drama.

[i didnt want to hurt you baby but your pretty when you cry]
[i didnt want to fuck you but your pretty when your mine]
[i didnt really love you baby but im pretty when i lie]


ive been hurting lately. biting skin and asking questions. keeping up with the old/lost friends and lovers. never openly, always lurking. but forever feeling like ive been missing out. always feeling like im the one that let everyone down. and its been years. sometimes. for others its been less, but the pain hasnt been. its seems that im a big fan off punishment. and i do it to myself alot. everyday at that.

wonderful.

the meaning i was trying to find here has left me.

and we're off for coffee.


hmm

so

i got fired. im sad.

an image

a girl and a picnic table, sitting in an enclosed area with a captive tree.

she sits and watches the clouds through the bars, smoke trailing from her nose and mouth.

on her wrist, fading lines and a light blue string tying her to a red balloon.

she glances up and catches light coming through it.

the balloon shifts and wonders just how it can get away from its listless host.

the girl looks away.

her shirt has small holes in it from where she tore the buttons off.

her eyes are smudged from the wetness there.

its nothing real. their only irritation.

she cocks her head as the thought bows through.

then walks inside to blog.

right now

-i feel ugly and insecure.
-i miss my ex. [the one that still kills me] im just thinking too much.
-im coughing.
-im scared.
-i need to get a grip.
-im terribly sad.
-sigh.
-im at a loss of what to do about this.
-bah

words

hair dye. mmm, acrid.

my puppy makes me happy beyond happy. she the greatest thing. my little bear. she is going to be a beast though. grrr.

im having trouble figuring out the mindset of a few choice people in my life right now. its rather bothersome.

tonight was a goddamed good fucking night. we hit bucks [yes, star] after work and the rain came with us. we jumped into old books, now banned, the san antonio legends and mexican folklore. *shudder* giant owls..... the rain fell softly at first, listening in on our conversation quietly until it decided we werent paying enough attention. when the drops came bigger and we started laughing it swelled and the puddle fights began. floating cigarette butts in the gutter and us soaked through. wet hair stringy and shoes squishing we were off. ihop, familiar and unabashedly straight waiters, laughing at the asians, and another water related incident involving abe was not the typical night for us. but we took it. even the red neck asshole soldier couldnt stop the greatness. i mean it us. heh.

when we came home we were greeted with something i wont blog about, but wasnt happy with. ahem.

im tired and the hair dye has to come out now. im tired and for the first time i dont feel the right hand itchy thing. you know what im talking about. if you dont fuck off.

mmmmmmmm, inside jokes.

nails and another 1 am. this time with reservations.

i now have neon orange nails thanks to a slow que and nothing much to talk about with fellow worker. woo.
im at work till one. im not happy about this. but the promise of coffee and good company is enough to keep me in a good way.

fucking spurs.

*sheepish*

yea sure im a little sickly and i woke up too late.
sure i still have to go to work till 1 am.
sure im worried about keeping said job.

but hell. i had the most interesting experiences last night.

and maybe it was watching i heart huckabees or reading all that philosophy stuff on wikipedia.

But it was amazing. The thoughts I had.

i woke up with bruises today. they called me out of my dreams in perfect two part harmony with my puppy. [who didn't want to prove anything to me about myself, rather she wanted food] at first I didn't remember how I got them, or why my head was so tight….Then the details of the night came out of the dark, wandering groggily as if still drunk.

I remember:

-the strangers leaving and us finally feeling safe enough to be us.

-todd. Just todd. When hes drunk hes enough to earn his own line. Haha. Jesus Christ.

-the backyard and duane winding up. Remember seeing the white before the pain swept through. Me falling back just a little and letting it come, breathing in and remembering how much it helps. Me trying to get him good. him laughing at me. I think I just might hit like a pussy. Great.

-the lovesick couple with masochism and hesitance shadowing and kisses stolen in the room with the dimmest atmosphere. His arms around her, her heart away from him, if only for the moment, and him with that fact in his eyes.

-jon and the potato salad. Gross.

-the all the fucking CIGARETTES. im feeling it right now.

-dawnelles dream with her killing her fiancées lover. I wouldn't put it past her.

-Me and Brenda dancing to Interpol. All alone with everyone around us.

-abe in his usual drunk mood. Angry and away.

-tom. Actually drunk [its been weeks and weeks] and charming as usual.

-the ride to the chevron. I wasn't ever going to say it you know. And I shouldn't have then. I can be happy as the person/part assigned to me person I am. but I got it out. and there was pain sure. But not anywhere near enough for me to be anything but ok.

Last night the emotions I was witnessing and feeling were overwhelming. They crushed each other and fell on themselves. Slurred their speech and laughed too hard. They were up and near the ceiling, watching and smirking. They slapped our faces when we began to drift off in a direction not pertaining to pain or love. They kept us there. They kept us open eyed. Well me at least. The whole night was just me lost and useless amidst the flow of it all. I saw it all there, in the smoky rooms, it was love, jealousy, hatred, lust, ignorance, and carelessness. And there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it except feel human and expel said humanity on the nearest person, like everyone else. I had no choice in the matter, the transition was seamless. And we just drank away. Sang away.

Hmm….

Here I sigh and wonder what the meaning of it all was. What it was all for, what I was supposed to get from it.

Heres to being lost.

At least it wasn't a bad night. I may have gone to bed feeling like and ass, but I know the people in my life. And they aren't ones to hold grudges. Drunk talk was always more embarrassing that substantial anyway. This I know. This I believe.

I have to go get ready for work.

Hrm.

all things unsaid

3:55 AM - refer to the "unsaid" blog
Current mood: crushed

its hard not to feel like a douche bag when you say the things you never meant to say.

that is all on that.

im ok being what i am.

im ok.







i think.

its just after a few punches and a few choice words, you realize that its better off. you may be better off. they may be better off.

and you dont necessarily want to delve into that.



that.


silly girl.


silly human.

it's hard to blog in the dark

tonight was
-i ? huckabees. "you just cant understand my infinite nature" "yes i can! wait, what does that even mean?!"
-starbucks [yea we caved] i tried the black tea tonight. mmm. my new favorite.
-todd and brenda and the "funny seeing you here"s
-mi tierra and the fucking best damn menudo ive had in YEARS [+limon, +onion, +salt]. being there with all of the people i love the most. and yes that means you too abe. heh. the sparkling ceiling gave me the shiny leftovers you get when you closed your eyes and the colorful papier mache was comforting. i got the weird subconcious mexican twinge. i dont get that often. im usually quite white.
-another 4:30 am. mmm.
-abe farted just now.
-soy chicana la raza!
-i mean. um. never mind. [see above white statement]
-i am obsessed with death cab. obsessed. OBSESSED.


good night.

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[thats a lame work inside thing, dont bother]

stephanie was a diver and she was always down

I guess it is different now that I'm poor and aging. A little less asleep. A little more talkative.

Umm… Brena just walk into the room with a huge brush in her mouth. That was fucking weird/hilarious. Holy shit! She just walk on out with it. And I'm left with that strange laughing in an empty room by yourself feeling. Cute.

Where was I? Ah. So I went to breakfast with my grandfather today. We talked. I was already feeling weird seeing how he was in my house and in full view of our alcohol shelf and the rooms themselves reek of a thousand cigarettes and other such variations of smokable things. Sheesh. We went to dennys and settled sown in the booth and I was ready for the questions. My grandfather though, is one cool guy. We talked and talked and talked. About my situation, about Joey and California, about the family, about my dad. When the food came we said grace and he thanked god for being able to spend time with his favorite granddaughter. It was sweet. I took a moment to think on that and realized that yes, yes I am their favorite and the ego rush was a bit much for me. Hilarious. While we were eating some kids walked in full jumpsuits, obviously trainees from Randolph AFB. They unique thing about these cookie cutter crew cut boys were their patches on their shoulders, which was basically cartman [yes from south park] in a full air force jumpsuit as well with the words "bringin' sexy back" sewn under him. I pointed it out to my grandpa [who is air force retired] and he got quite the kick out of it. Ad we left I walked over to the red headed boy on the right and softly touched his patch saying "greatest patch ever" he laughed and told his friends. We went to a park afterwards, the one with the lake I've written about before and we sat and watched the ducks and the people fishing. We talked some more about the scars that seemed a bit too new for his liking and I cam out with the story. He was understanding and I felt foolish for trying to hide them from him. When he left me here at the house he hugged me for a long time and told me that he loved me, that he was proud of me and that he misses me everyday. It felt heartbreakingly good. Sigh. A good start to this long day ahead of me.

Aaaaaah.. Say hello to the angels. Fuck I love this song.

Ok so when I moved in to this here house there were these doors on my closet that have since been removed. Their French type doors with the angled shingles in them and whatnot. Recently I've made them my new project. I plan to paint them with a scene from one of my dreams, where the trees looked like fire and the ocean was just another layer beneath the earth. Pretty. I've already started and things are looking pretty good. More on this later.

Last night has to be the first night in a very long time where I've gone to bed before 12. Since in jumping on the bettering myself boat we're stopping the late night starbucks and mid week drinking in favor of eight hours and gym visits. Yea, me. Anyhow. So Jonathan comes over early, to stop in for a bit, since he was my main late night companion and now hell have to be the midday one, and he asks me if I would want this art caddy that his roommate left behind some time ago. I of course give him a fuck yea, and we go to pick it up. I'm of course thinking that no one would leave an art caddy behind unless there's shit in it but when we get home and I open it its fucking full of pens and pencils, rulers, stencils, patches, any kind of eraser you can think of and a gaggle of sculpting tools. Fuuuuuck. I nearly cry. And he just gave it to me. It was the fucking coolest thing ever. It actually inspired me a bit since my wrist was hurting from painting and I was in the maybe I should give up place we artists get to whenever we start any project. Sigh. Thank you again mister.

Shit if you ever want to court me instead of flowers just give me soft leaded pencils and kneaded erasers. Haha. Flowers are shite.

So yea. I have to get ready for work soon. A good ol 12 hour shift almost. Bah.

More Interpol. I need more Interpol. Right now.

another late night this time with a sunrise

fucking a.
this was the last night for the nocturnal idiots we are.
[or were]
heres to the day.
and me calling in.

sleep will come easy.
dreams will some naturally.
theyll take back the night together.
and keep me from staying too long.

and when my friends see me in the sun theyll ask, "have you always had freckles?"


hmm.

drunk

all the ramblings in me are useless and dead.


i was wondering about wishes and instantly thought of the first one that would come from the lips of every human.
the "i just want to be happy" wish.
i was thinking.
it just couldnt work.

more on this later.
right now
im just going to go read, and maybe finish this drink, and maybe sleep.

as tired as i am

i wont go to bed for a few more minutes.
i abandoned the myspace blogger for this sleek black bitch. mmmm.

heres to the morning colors staining the sky right now out the window.

there are times when im out, looking around, noticing lines in the faces of my friends... when i wonder what the hell all this is about. the great scheme of things. and i have no magical book [or a towel at that] and no clue. and all i can say is uh huh and all i can do is nod sheepishly while i wonder what was just said. to fall in the middle of a conversation can prove fatal.

but.....

yes.

i sent a message to the roommate about the things in my head. i fear that he may not be too happy with what i had to say. part of me knows that the icy comings in the next fews hours/days will hurt, but part of me is telling me to get a fucking backbone and own up when it comes to certain situations. its high time i start doing this. i need to quit being the shit taker and the pushover. i can prove to be too easy sometimes. and that is not real nice for the ol security and stability issues im drowning in. fuck sometimes. well dont i just have it all figured out. right. yet i do nothing most times. go me.

death cab for cutie is my new favorite band. im on the emo bandwagon and we're set to cry cry cry.

fun.

i feel the intense need to curl up right now on cool tile and just do that. its not the best of feeling but typical day ending like for me. god. maybe i should have stayed on the pills. ive said this before.... and i never really put much into it really, its kind of one of those sayings. the ones that slip out and are immediately forgotten. but now im really thinking and i just dont know. im no doctor. and the people who are think i belong on the pretty white and blue capsules.

who the fuck knows.

all i can think about is

-how lonely i am right now.
-california
-spiderman 3. ugh.
-the song im listening to. and how pretty his voice is.
-drunk touches.
-work.
-my dwindling artistic drive. [sadness]
-how bad i just want to fucking bleed. [this is a scary thought. no one really knows how much]
-broken clay pots.
-sex. [what? Vonnegut themed, nothing more]
-thomas edisons dog.
-the fact that abe has to be at work in an hour and a half.
-my eyes. they fucking hurt.
-my head. that hurts too.
-the selfish aspects of people. and the blinding demon that is bitterness.
-the sound of the keys, and me finally noticing how much i adore that sound.
-"Catharine watched him grow smaller in the long perspective of shadows and trees, knew that if he stopped and turned now, if he called to her, she would run to him. She would have no choice. Newt did stop. He did turn. He did call. "Catharine," he called. She ran to him, put her arms aroud him, could not speak."
-the rest of the stories in welcome to the monkey house.
-me. and all that is me.
-316 hours of community service.



im lame with my fucking lists.

sleep.

come here.

recently revised

its 6:12 am
every night we seem to stay out later and later.
work is going to fucking blow tomorrow. sweet.

at least tonight we did our starbucks proud with an actual conversation that wasnt about everyone else at starbucks. god. we're those lame kids that go there every night. yet i wouldnt give it up for anything.
books books books. i need more books. and more thought provoking talks and musings. i need this.
im really scared about california.
fuck! im fucking tired. i want to blog soo bad.
ah well.


[in addition]

it is now about 8:48 in the morning. ive found myself unable to sleep and full on the morning. me and abe started to watch Tideland before he left to work, its a weird movie co-written and directed by the 5th member of the monty python clan, terry gilliam. the movie is unnerving and beautiful and even has an intro from the director where he states, some of you may not like this movie, some of you may find it lovely, and some of you wont know what to think, but at least youll be thinking. wonderful. i suggest everyone see this movie.
today i am going to give my hours to a friend from work. me and duane are going to take the dog to petsmart and have him bathed and trimmed. hell be much happier, and we [the two humans] will have some time to talk.
i really should have slept, but too many of my mornings are stolen and wasted on tiresome shifts and disturbing dreams. i need to change this. change. hmm. what a concept. easier said than done.
coffee has me twitching and a stranger in the shower calls my attention. this stranger was once someone very close to me. we have since seperated and lost what spark once floated between us. there is seemingly nothing left except a breathless friendship waiting to be comforted and resuscitated. its all up to us now. and im not one for losing friends.
[i feel so .... helpless]
im trying to talk myself into something today. im doing the dance yet the bells and whistles are silent by my side. my handicapps. my weights to bear and drag. bearing down on my thought and making it impossible to wade through all that invades me in every way. hmm.
pretty.
"squirrel butts dont glooow."
i realize that i am always in a state of fear of being found out.
go on. try to figure it out.
fucking issues.
we go hand in hand eh?



it is now 9:58am

time flies and so on. but maybe without its usual ending.
im feel like washing something. cleansing and scraping. the dishes call my name here and i cringe at their tinny voices and promises of wrinkled fingers and greenish foam. if i must i must.

the same goes for ending this blog.


good day interweb.

[hello real life]

awake at work

wishing i was asleep at home.

dizzy and dreaming.

this is nothing

we'll wake up tomorrow refreshed but slightly hungover.
we'll never mention a thing about it.
we'll be fine.
but somehow the words keep going along in my head.
the ones i should have said while there was still time.
still i kick myself for being so naive.
fuck it.
its nothing compared to the dilema. its nothing compared to the everlasting.
oy.
i dont make sense after 5 card poker and me with losing cards.
i guess its best to be quiet.
and let things come to me.


sigh.