cellphone dependency

Lately, I've been losing track of my cellphone, or opting not to take it with me when I leave the apartment. I think this partly due to the disgust I felt for myself when I realized how dependent I was on the damned thing. In addition, I had this freakish dream (who me?!) the other night about being on the beach with everyone (again SHOCKER) and in the dream the tide kept coming in unexpectedly and sweeping all of our stuff into the ocean - including (dun dun DUN) all of our cellphones! We kept going out into the water to fetch them up since cellphones could float in this dream. It was so frustrating, I would find everyone else's phones and after about the fourth time that the tide had devoured our stuff: towels, bags, books, CELLPHONES, I finally found my busted phone. I threw it onto the beach and declared that I was done with phones, not just cellphones, but phones all together.

I am the only one who would have nightmares about my cellphone. At least I don't have text messaging and will never be the girl who gets laughed at by the phone repair guys because I made an all-time record of 900+ text messages in one month (ah hem TIFFY!).

The Key to my Heart

My Dad and I got in a ludicrous fight, yesterday, immediately after my job interview. He showed up at my door today with this lovely variety pack. Of course, he was instantly forgiven. It used to drive my Mom nuts that my Dad and I would fight like we did and then get over it in less than an hour. That's just how we are I guess, it's nice to know that things haven't changed. I would've been over it quickly anyway, but the beer certainly helps. He must've thought about me, at the grocery store, going on and on about how I got to pick six beers from local breweries when I was up in La Crosse and they were all different and so good. I can't wait to test these out, LATER. Right now, I have an interview to cancel, jobs to apply for, a Sopranos episode to watch, rollerblading to do (come out sun!), and my book to read: Kiss my Tiara - How to Rule the World as a Smartmouth Goddess.

Being a College Grad

...is kinda like going through puberty all over again -- minus the hormones and add the need for money. You're, once again, constantly asking "Who am I?" "What's going on with my life?" "Why does this suck so much?" and now you have the added bonus of having to feed yourself and get health insurance!

I went to turn in an application for a job today, and they asked me to stay for an interview. It lasted over two hours and they asked me to come back for two more interviews. I'm calling tomorrow to cancel the second interview. No, the job didn't sound awful, and no, I don't have a better offer...it just wasn't me.

There is comfort in choosing to be untitled and undecided. There's horror in choosing to be something.

The worst part is that I feel awful about having to call this seemingly great guy tomorrow who interviewed me to tell him that I don't want the position I acted very much like I wanted today. Oh well, it was a good experience, right? Experience is all that matters.

Strange, but the song that's playing right now is quite appropriate.

Live through this, and you won't look back

There's one thing I want to say, so I'll be brave
You were what I wanted
I gave what I gave
I'm not sorry I met you
I'm not sorry it's over
I'm not sorry there's nothing to say
I'm not sorry there's nothing to say...

(Stars) "When there's nothing left to burn, you have to set yourself on fire"

What's with all the guns?

Saturday night, I had a dream that I was shot and last night I was actually in Bond 007. In the dream where I was shot, I was in some sort of store front with a maintenance man and we noticed people fighting outside. A man in the fray yelled for someone to call the police, and after I did this girl came up to the window with a revolver and shot me in the chest through the glass. It didn't hurt and there wasn't much blood; there was a lot of choking (like in a crappy movie) as I ran for help.

Last night, it started out with just playing Bond and then, all of the sudden, I was physically in the game. I remember thinking I liked the assortment of weapons I had -- some power weapons, pistols, explosives -- a good variety. I shot a few droids who had bizarre lightning-like lasers, however, I was having trouble keeping my guns and keeping them loaded. Everyone else's aim sucked worse than mine so that helped.

Then, I came across this real-people couple that I had to kill. At first it was just the woman, and I couldn't get any of my guns to come up. I paused the screen to search my stash and I had nothing, not even throwing knives. I tried to slap the woman, but no matter what I did I couldn't make contact. I kept waiting to hear the slap sound effect, but it wasn't happening. Finally, I found a gun that looked sort of like a KF7 Soviet and I tried to load these giant, gold, sharp-pointed, bullets into it. I had the gun to her head and I pulled the trigger and I heard that hollow clicking sound which I decided meant the gun had to be cocked.

It's freaky when you do something in a dream that you've never done in real life, like cock a gun (or shoot people!). Perhaps, I had to cock my paintball gun the time I went with my uncles, cousins, and bro ...I can't really remember.

For some reason, the gun still didn't work and I believe I ended up jamming a gold bullet into her back or arm which seemed to do the trick. At that time, her male counterpart showed up and he had a crazy gleam in his eye. I searched around for guns but I got the sense that the only things left were explosives. I looked over as the dude impaled himself with some sort of time bomb and started walking towards me.

I knew I had to get as much space as possible between him and me before he exploded. I stumbled around, starting to panic, and eventually found a sealed off room that hadn't been too damaged from gun fire and explosions. It reminded me of a dorm room with a wooden bed, desk and dresser, though also similar to a room in the archives in N64 Bond. I tried to use part of the broken loft bed to jam against the unlocked door and then I sat with my back pressed up against the door anticipating the sound of the man exploding.

Then, I woke up. Try going back to sleep after that.

sound BYTES

Happy Spring! Well, at least, today sure felt like it. I bladed to the water to soak up some sun, after sending Timmy off -- he'd kill me for saying it but, "It was just GORGEOUS!" We had a blast with Tim in town and on our visit up to La Crosse, the weekend as a whole was quite lovely (posting pictures at a later date).

This afternoon I decided to park myself on a cement slab next to the lake and just take it all in for a while. Usually, I blade with music, however, since Timmy and I had been blading before he left I was without any tunes. I'm a big fan of unplugging from time to time and today was no exception. It was fun to listen to all of the action around me on the bike path as people went about enjoying the day.

Women Biker: Dave was in love with Lorna, no doubt about that!
Man Biker: Still is.
Woman Biker: ...yeah.

College Girl: This city, like, wakes up in the Spring.

Mom: Do you want to go biking here this Summer, Kristin?
Tween: Sure.
Mom: If I can get any time off of work, that is...
Toddler: I don't wanna go ta day caaaare.
Mom: You won't be in day care all of the time.
Toddler: (passing me sprawled on my slab with my hands behind my head) I wanna REST.
Mom: No.
Toddler: I wanna rest, right here!

I loved just laying there thinking about all of the conversation fragments. They all seemed so... normal. I had that feeling I sometimes get that I'm in the Matrix. I suppose that after two weekends with Sarah and her constant talk about "pookeria" and what have you, any conversation would seem a bit too normal.

MWA!

I've been away from my computer ALL DAY. I came home to emails, IMs, and some goofy pics from Jayna.

A little more St. Patty's fun to tide you over. I may be AWOL for a couple of days since Mr. Timothy TOOTH Lee is arriving tomorrow aft and, per usual, we have a shit-ton of fun planned for too-short a time.

My friend Sarah

She's an artist, I tell you. This is only one of the many that she delightedly created for us on St. Patty's. I chose this one to share because it is on the tamer end of the leprechaun behavior spectrum illustrated by Rah. If you were one of the few people out on Friday night who did not get to read her short story of St. Patrick's Day, I have the original copy if you would like to see it. Mikey, I know you mentioned that you'd like a complete copy of the story, so you'll have to borrow it sometime here. I'm making a note of it right now that you get a portion of her future millions because she started out by drawing penises (or penii) all over your French notebook in high school, cleverly disguised as they were, in duck or alligator faces. Also, I get a cut for being the first to display some Rah Originals here.

Technically, Sarah has already bought me as her agent for slyly buying me this shirt to commemorate my Retirement Bar Crawl.

St. Patty's DAY

Happy St. Patrick's Day! As tradition dictates, I will be at the Pub later with my Dad to begin celebrating (RAH GINAH in town this eve, as well). This was the only Festive Picture I had. I photoshopped the shamrock in... and Julia's pink eyes, my green eyes, and Beck's purple eyes. It's technically Halloween 2003, but whatever.

Damage Control

Today was devoted to trying to clean up some of the mess left in the wake of Spring Break 06/Steph's Retirement Bar Crawl. Yes, those are the laminated itineraries that I created in anticipation of the big day. I told everyone that they could do whatever they wanted with them, as long as they didn't make fun of me for making them. Happily, they were a big hit. Tiffy remarked that it was great that they were laminated after she spilled beer on hers, and the last thing written on the back of mine (I brought a permanent marker for documenting/body art) was "Steph fell on the floor!" which, I'm told, happened more than once, NEAT. Though yesterday was a handful of aspirin kind of day and I traveled all over town today for my damage control efforts, the bar crawl itself was definitely a success. I made it to 8 bars (7 that I remember) and the crew made it to 2 more after that I think.

While on the bus today, I passed the mural across from Quinton's and burst out laughing remembering how Steve and Jared had to pose with the people in the mural for camera-phone pictures -- hopefully the subjects in the mural have all recovered from Jared violating them.

(After some research, I believe that the mural is composed of notable Madisonians who have all passed away... eek and whoops)

I'm THAT GIRL...

..who puts her phone in her back pocket, and falls on her ass, who plans a successful bar crawl but doesn't include EATING DINNER, who thinks that after 9 hours of drinking it'll be fun to show up on someone's doorstep SURPRISE!, who wakes up having no recollection of where she lost her busted phone!!! (EXCESSIVE EXCLAMATIONS TOTALLY NECESSARY!!!)

My sweet roommate assured me that everyone is that girl at least once. Still, this goes out to everyone who witnessed or aided that girl -- I am so sorry about my dumbassedness, and thanks.

Happy Spring Break

I talked to Duck yesterday and we were reminiscing about the craziness which was Spring Break 2005. I found this in my inbox this morning (my comments/additions in italics):

REMINDERS OF THE HIGHLIGHTS OF PANAMA CITY BEACH SPRING BREAK 2005:

In no particular order:

1. American Eagle Bags -- I pretended I didn't really want one, but Emily knew I did so she went and asked the girl handing them out for one for me, thanks Em! I love my free bag, duh.
2. Fun Illinois boys -- I didn't think they were fun, they were certainly not Ohio boys.
3. Boobs
4. Bible Thumper Entertainment -- Assholes, trying to preach to people on FUCKING SPRING BREAK. I was ready to brawl, luckily they didn't give their lecture to me at all that year.
5. Pissing off the nice southern boys by bad-mouthing the bible thumpers -- Totally great, I did feel a little bad about that though.
6. Shaving Cream -- When you get mad at someone you just put shaving cream in their hair, right Duck? 7. Break up with Fun Illinois boys -- Finally you all came to your senses...
8. Foggy on the details but driving in the Christian shuttle and yelling at them --laughing out loud as I type that one -- I remember the details = apologizing up and down for my drunk friend who wouldn't stop yelling "Jesus Fucking Christ!" They were giving us a free ride after all.
9. Sara needs an intervention
10. Let's count the Waffle Houses -- I heart Waffle Houses.
11. Boobs
12. Big Neck Doober Game -- How many can we count on the beach today? (See #5 for an example)
13. Connecticut Uhhhh -- Those boys were alright, still not Ohio.
14. No Dumping Allowed -- Nice Em. That'll teach you to exercise on FUCKING SPRING BREAK!
15. Climbing over the fence for the Frisbee -- Oh! I think drunk, beach, Frisbee was one of my favorite activities. Interesting how we always "accidentally" hit cute boys with it.
16. Free Skirts -- I love my free skirt too.
17. Random Pasta Siting -- Yeah! We found one Ohio boy!
18. Bosom Art -- Never saw Carly or myself as Boob Tattoo Artists, we have that on video, don't we?
19. Badger Win -- Go Big RED, ah back when we were just lil' students.
20. Yummy Mexican Restaurant -- Two pitchers of Margaritas, yes?
21. Playing in the Ocean
22. Weird Random naked man laying on beach -- We just had to take a look.
23. Big Ass Jar of Peanut Butter -- Gone after day one.
24. Nice and Clean fluffy towels at a moments notice -- Like we even bothered, "Steph, I don't know why you're trying to cover up at this point." "You're so right" towel drops!
25. Free Breakfast -- Was there really free breakfast?
26. TCBY/Taco Bell -- T-bell is the shit, literally.
27. Killer Shit -- purchased by Duck.
28. Cowboy hat -- "borrowed" by Sara.
29. Pizza Hut Buffet -- Not sure if I'd rather eat anywhere else for lunch, another highlight fo sure.
30. Sunsets -- Who wants to join me on the balcony for a cocktail?
31. Steph's Moomoo (mumu?) -- My half-assed attempt to be modest.
32. Boobs
33. Titty Fuckers
34. London Calling- James, Jamie, James and James -- Cheeriooo OOO OOO!
35. Lola? and Missy? -- Fake names, right?
36. Turkey sandwich, uhhh -- All sung to the tune of that 50 cent song circa Spring Break 05 (same with #13)
37. Boobs
38. Boobs -- I didn't think they were mentioned enough. Saw more that Spring Break than ever before and they were all in our hotel room!
39. Pulls from the 99 Bananas bottle on the beach, gross.
40. Get yourself some Gatorade, refresh, rejuvenate, replenish!
41. Doesn't the Japanese Sushi Chef on that billboard look just like Robby?
42. "Tits for hits!" -- It's a complete mystery as to why that wasn't successful...
43. Tell me again how you chipped your tooth on a tequila bottle?

That seems to cover it all pretty well. Thanks for the memories ladies.

Seriously People

This is getting a little ridiculous...

If one sun is good, then

PANAMA CITY, FL 2005

three suns are better, obviously! I messed around with the "clone" tool today, how freaking cool/weird is that? You really shouldn't be able to clone things. To demonstrate it for Amanda, I cloned her head in a picture = freakfuckingtabulous. Yes, this is what I do on Sunday afternoons. I have little energy for anything else, and though I no longer use it to procrastinate on papers or "studying" photo editing still consumes hours of my time. Good to have hobbies, I guess.

It's 2pm and I've already had a bloody mary

So you know it's been a great day. It is 51 degrees outside and I feel like I'm on crack, I'm that excited. After bopping around town with a wonderful companion I am back at my crib trying to figure out the rest of my afternoon. I did a load of laundry last week, however, it seems I neglected to wash any underwear, thus laundry is kind of a must. In any case, I'm going to have to get back out there, rollerblading I think (once I sober up). Then, it will be time to start the party all over again. Perhaps we'll even enjoy some Drunk MarioKart like last night -- I cuss like a sailor when I play vids so I came up with the rule that every time someone swore we had to pause the game for them to drink. Dirty Pirate Bitch Hooker! always got me in trouble.

Happy Glorious Friday!

Ready for Spring, but..

this is pretty frickin beautiful

All of this snow the year I decided I'd get cute shoes instead of boots. It keeps things interesting, at least. In fact, I had a dream last night that I kept slipping on the sidewalk and falling and at one point no one would help me up... I don't like falling. It's like hitting my head on our dwarf-height shower head, I should be paying more attention. Oh, dIsTrAcTiOnS

My first recreational drug

was grape cough syrup. Yesterday (or "Yest-ah-day" as my Pops tends to pronounce it) started out with my hands being numb, then my knee, and eventually my brain ;) Amanda called on her way home from work and asked if we should go ice skating at the indoor campus ice rink. I was so excited I could hardly stand to wait for her to get home. We started out with a beer and some delish appetizers downtown and then made our way to a bar by the rink for a quick shot before we got on the ice (I tend to skate better with liquor).

I took a spill and injured a non-important part of my knee -- non-important, because it wasn't the kneecap, it was below it and off center. It did swell up and turn purple but the worst part was that I was completely unprofessional about it. I didn't pop right up and continue twirling about the ice, instead, I sat there for a moment, stood hunched over for a moment more, and leaned on Amanda for a moment after that. We both fell once, which we decided was perfect. Not falling would mean we weren't trying hard enough and falling a lot would be painful and detrimental to our egos.

I did, however, feel pretty damn good about my Lutz Jump and my spins by the end of the hour, even though, there was a six-year-old out there who was totally showing me up. See, that is the problem with having skated on a pond BY MYSELF for most of my life. I was the only one out there, most of the time back then, so of course I thought I was the Ice Princess. Watching a six-year-old with more skills than you'll ever have kinda puts things in perspective. Well, at 23 I learned the Lutz Jump, but, at 22 I taught myself to do a back-flip off of the diving board so at least I have professional diving to fall back on.

After our ice time was over, Mandy thought we should grab a drink at a bar in the old 'hood and take a cab home. Even better, I suggested we grab a drink in the old 'hood and do a Monday Night Bar Crawl to the current 'hood. We met some interesting folks and made friends with a few bartenders. It was really quite fun, even if we only made up 1/4 of the people in any given bar. In our last bar (WE MADE IT TO 7 total), Mandy almost got a chunk of law school paid for by a young gentleman who she let use her cell phone as he had apparently just "come into" 1.2 million dollars and I got into a discussion about ideal jobs with some folks. The bartender there said he'd ideally be a professional poker player and then we met a kid who supposedly was a professional poker player.

This guy told us to think of any person in history and his friend would guess who it was. It took about 15 seconds on average and he got it every time. I asked if there was a system and they admitted that there was. I told them that that was all I needed to know as I didn't want to ruin the magic of it by knowing the details. Mandy, on the other hand, had to know the details. On the way home she tried to explain to me that by using the cue of "Are you ready?" and snapping his fingers three times he had accurately told his friend, in code, that my historical figure was Sacagawea. We were a little tipsy at this point so she could have been explaining how to FOIL equations and I would have been just as perplexed ("F-O-I-L. First, outer, inner, last!").

It was a stellar Monday, to say the least.

I had to write it down

I had an extremely vivid dream last night. I was living with this couple, on a cliff, high above a white sandy beach and a crystal clear, blue-green ocean that stretched on forever. I got the sense that we were living a more primitive life as there really wasn't any clothing and I had the feeling that the couple had plans to repopulate the earth, thus, I will now call them Adam and Eve. They had a modern house with modern things but it was definitely in another time period or universe. Half the time I felt like I was experiencing what was going on and the other half I was only narrating. Apparently, the couple had saved me and nursed me back to life and I had amnesia so I couldn't remember life before them.

On this particular day, we were sitting on the edge of the cliff when we saw two adolescent boys swimming up to our beach below. "Don't they know this is a private beach?" Eve asked, as she wiped sand off of the cliff which traveled directly down to the water to assault the faces of the two boys, causing them to retreat back into the ocean. With a childlike curiosity, Adam and Eve started to descend down the cliff to watch the boys swim out; only once they were a safe distance away.

I followed them and upon reaching the beach we noticed a man paddling around the side of the cliff, in a sort of lay down leaf boat, very close to the shore. As he got out of the boat and walked to the beach we saw what a goliath he was. He was around 7 feet tall with long, brown, wavy hair and shiny, tan, bodybuilder muscles. Cautiously, Adam and Eve started climbing back up the cliff, glancing back now and then with fear radiating from their faces. I wasn't sure why they were so afraid, yet I climbed back up the cliff anyway.

When we made it to the top and Adam and Eve rushed towards these mountain bikes laying in the yard as Eve shouted "We bike away, Stephanie, we bike away!" Adam took off easily, but Eve almost got swiped up by the goliath's monster hands as she was mounting her bike. I thought that was a ridiculous plan, especially with the car sitting in the driveway, though I wasn't sure if I knew how to drive a car or if I even knew where the keys were.

I decided I would try to outsmart the giant rather than outrun him. I made a mad dash for the front of the house and burst in through the garage door slamming it behind me. It was just like stupid horror movies where the victim is running their ass off and the predator is walking at an average, even slow, pace, but somehow still manages to keep up. I ran down into the basement and into what I knew was my room. I knew there was a space in the closet, a sort of cubby, that I could slip into where he wouldn't find me. I carefully squeezed past all of the hanging items in the closet, there was one of those shoe-holder hangers closing me in. I half knelt, half stood in the small, slanted space.

I heard him enter the room, grunting around like a giant would. He stuck his hand in the closet and reached back, his fingers only centimeters from my face -- again, just like a movie. I closed my eyes and didn't breath and when I opened them the hand was gone and I heard him leave my room. My last thoughts were about how long I'd have to wait in there before I was sure he was gone or before Adam and Eve came back, and then I thought maybe I should escape from Adam and Eve altogether... go explore this strange place and try to figure out what the hell was going on.

Then I woke up.

Trying to sleep with my eyes wide open

Straight up insomnia. I had a small window where I probably could've fallen into some state of "rest" but I was too busy watching something lame on TV and now I'm left staring at the ceiling. Fuck, I hate it when this happens...it's like the same four subjects are on permanent rotation in my head and I'm beyond sick of thinking about them. I just can't seem to clear my mind and visualize the ocean, summer, being kidnapped -- whatever scenario I typically try to conjure up, I got nothing. Which means that if I ever do fall asleep, I will have messed up dreams like last night (everyone went to this bar in a barn in the country and we all ended up sleeping in the barn and someone drew a tattoo of a lady on my leg, we were by the ocean at least). I don't know what to do with myself. Fighting it seems futile.

I'm always at a loss as to how I can redirect all of this energy. If only I had something organic to distract me: rain, sunrise, people, animals. Instead, currently the only thing of "interest" is the distinct sound of someone peeing in another apartment.

getting there

I applied for a couple of travel related positions today. Thus far into the job hunt, travel is the only thing that actually gets me excited. I know I may eventually have to apply for positions that aren't exactly exhilarating. Which reminds me of a quote from hypocrite in a pouffy white dress (a wonderful book I just read by Susan Jane Gilman):

When the editor of Aluminum Siding Times asked me, "So, what entices you about aluminum siding?" I had to resist the urge to reply that it seemed like a topic you could write about regardless of how much recreational medication you happened to be taking.

That could totally be me someday. Someday soon. For now, at least, I'm still on a quest to find a job I could honestly see myself liking (sober), even just a little bit. I know I wasn't exactly jumping for joy when I interviewed for my student position -- I remember contemplating changing my funky hoop earrings into more conservative ones for the interview, but then I thought, Screw it! They're going to have to see me as I am! (Oh, such a monumental act of rebellion). They hired me anyway, for some reason, and we had a great four years together.

My point is (I believe I was trying to make a point here...), I don't have a problem applying for something I'm not pee-your-pants-excited about, if I think I could work my way up to something I'd be pee-your-pants-excited about. Nonetheless, thinking that far into the future does kinda make my head want to spin off into outer space.