Oprah Hates My Livejournal

QOTD

Tue, 18 Jul 2006 00:20:37 GMT

Me (spotting it propped up by the foot of the stairs): Oh no! You're using a cane again!
Dad: Stephie, that's a shower rod.

Mon, 17 Jul 2006 21:46:15 GMT

I got a straightening iron today for the first time.

I love it and I'm kind of wondering why I'm so late to the party.

Also next week I am getting my hair cut like

Fri, 14 Jul 2006 18:24:05 GMT

"The Nerf football: the beginning of the soft, chubby weak-minded child."

eharmony

Wed, 21 Jun 2006 02:36:28 GMT

Did one of those personality-test things for fun. Blech. Sounds kinda like I suck.

# You may demonstrate positive possessiveness by developing strong attachments; however, you will not be overly involved as some others tend to do.

# You are a good friend and are always willing to help those you consider to be your friends. You also show strong ties, and will be uncomfortable when separated from your friends for an extended period.

# You tend to be loyal to others. Your loyalty shows in a variety of ways including your "staying power" with relationships and activities.

# You tend to dislike sudden or abrupt changes. You prefer things the way they are. Your motto might be: "If it's not broken, don't fix it."

# You tend to be a traditionalist, and will enjoy the social environment best if it is stable and predictable. You dislike sudden decisions about where to go or what to do, preferring to think things out first.

# You have a communications style which many people are comfortable with almost immediately. You are sincere, a good listener, not pushy and overall a comfortable person to be near.

# In communicating with others, you may support the mainstream ideas rather than new trailblazing activities. You may prefer the stable and traditional activities.

# Others will notice that you are a sincere person about what you say and do. This trait, along with the excellent listening skills, creates an individual whom most people find pleasant to be with and a calming type of person.

Strengths:

# You are usually enthusiastic about activities and planning.

# You have an excellent sense of humor and tend to see humor in events spontaneously.

# You are very good at communicating with others and seeing their point of view.

# You meet new people easily and are good at making them feel welcome.

# You are optimistic and tend to make others feel good about themselves.

# You are good at motivating others toward positive goals.

# You are socially poised and people-oriented.

# You are excellent at listening to the concerns and ideas of others.

# You tend to be a very calming influence in heated situations.

# You tend to be influential in decision-making situations. Others often turn to you for advice.

# You take pride in being very loyal to friends and family.

# You are good at reconciling (i.e. you don't like to sulk after a conflict is resolved).

Needs:

# Equal relations with others.

# Popularity.

# Social recognition of your accomplishments.

# An environment free from conflict or hostility.

# Sound relationships which form naturally, and are not contriving or scheming.

# Security for now, and in the future.

# Partners who practice listening and participation.

# Many and varied activities.

# A support system to help you get things done.

# Acceptance in a variety of groups.

# An audience to perform to and entertain.

I have a stalker

Mon, 12 Jun 2006 03:39:54 GMT

Lance Armstrong spoke at two graduation ceremonies this year: The Bullis School and Tufts University.

What the hell.

Lost soul in Dallas

Fri, 09 Jun 2006 17:30:35 GMT

Yesterday my mom and I saw a boy curled up on the ground outside the Dallas Angelika movie theater. He looked about 12 or 13. At first I thought he had collapsed in the heat, but as we got closer, we heard him cry. Three fat men surrounded him--probably theater employees who were trying to gently explain to him that he had to move. On our way back to the car, my mom saw a policeman sitting in his car. She told him about the boy and he said he'd look into it.

I hope he's okay.

Last day!

Mon, 05 Jun 2006 19:22:56 GMT

Aaaaand suddenly, it's my last day of work! :D I know I might be disappointing my parents by being a quitter, but as long as they don't guilt-trip me or mention the last two weeks of my life ever again, I'll be fine. They kept hoping that my job would get better but I knew it wouldn't because what incentive is there for a paralegal or even a city attorney to improve a mere intern's quality of life? What do they care if I can feel my brain losing cells? I would have gone on all summer doing the shit-work they didn't want to do. But not anymore! I'll notify my Starbucks manager, Tim, that I want to work full-time.

$8/hr x 38 hrs x 10 more weeks = $3040.
Plus tips.
$3742.
Plus what I've made so far.
GRAND TOTAL = about $4000.
Sweet.

And now, I present:

A TRUE STORY FROM LAST NIGHT

Characters:
Stephie -- the heroine
Taylor -- short, cute, blonde bubbly twenty-something year old

Scene: A large, run-down house on a college campus.
Stephie (entering Taylor's room): Wow...you have a fireplace in your room.
Taylor: Yeah, I think I'm gonna light candles in it and stuff.
Stephie: Oh, cool! Like a shrine.
Taylor: Exactly!
Stephie: To whom?
Taylor ("duh"): God.

Opening my eyes

Mon, 05 Jun 2006 11:55:33 GMT

Last night I hung out with three Jesus freaks.

One wore a shirt that said "ABORTION IS HOMICIDE."

...it was awesome.

It was either this or repainting my nails

Sat, 03 Jun 2006 21:24:14 GMT

I got a massage this morning. I have no idea how we afford such luxuries, but all I know is that my neck, shoulders and feet feel a lot better. I swear my dad works for the mafia.

I'm seeing "An Inconvenient Truth" tonight with a girl my mom said I should hang out with because she's my age. She falls into the category of people I mentioned earlier who are nice enough to hang out with me but don't actually like me. Although, I gotta admit, I have more in common with her than anyone else my mom has set me up with--I mean, I can talk to her for more than 5 minutes without battling awkward silences. I'm just a little intimidated because she wants to become a rabbi and, well, I don't believe in God.

My mom gets on these cooking kicks sometimes. Not that she cooks more often--rather, when she does cook, it's always the same thing. These kicks are usually instigated by either my dad or me innocuously commenting that we like a particular dish of hers. (Note: THAT DOESN'T MEAN WE WANT TO EAT IT FOR THE NEXT TWO WEEKS.) This month's "thing": homemade pizza. Don't get me wrong, I love pizza. But not with Central Market's entire produce section on it.

I had a dream last night that I cheated on Chad with Julian Schmitz, the kid whose car I crashed last year. (I still feel really bad about that.) We were on a train to Canada with a whole bunch of Bullis kids. When I woke up, my heart was pounding. I can't remember the last time I was so happy that the last 12 hours of my life had just been a dream.

Haha, my mom just cracked my door open and threw a paperclipped ten, five, and five ones at me. I love when that happens.

I wonder what it's like to be on a dating show and face your friends afterwards. Whether you win or lose--how embarrassing.

Pookey McGookey

Thu, 01 Jun 2006 18:08:40 GMT

I left the office yesterday thinking I had finally finished archiving everything.

WRONG.

This morning, five more boxes were waiting for me.

WHEN WILL THIS END?

WHY AM I NOT GETTING PAID?

Today, my favorite thing so far happened. I'm sorry...that sentence didn't make sense...I mean, out of everything I've experienced here so far, what happened today was the best.

I was sorting through a folder of faxes sent to one of the attorneys I'm interning for, Doreen McGookey (rhymes with spooky.) A couple years ago, she received a fax from a detective from the Dallas Police Department with the following cover letter:

THIS FAX DIRECTED TO: POOKEY MCGOOKEY
TOTAL PAGES INCLUDING COVER SHEET: 5
SPECIAL INSTRUCTIONS: TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP. SCRATCH MY BACK.

I laughed for minutes. Minutes!

My nose has been really dry lately--so dry, in fact, that I often get the sensation that I have to blow my nose but when I do, only blood comes out. A bloody nose is one of the symptoms of radiation exposure. Oh my god what if I'm dying of radiation exposure? I don't think I've been exposed to radiation recently...let's see, what did I do yesterday...got up, went to work, ate a turkey sandwich, came home, napped, ate a fajita, watched a movie, talked to Chad, went to bed...maybe it was the fajita? The guacamole tasted kind of different. I thought it was lime juice, but maybe it was uranium.

Two in one day?????

Wed, 31 May 2006 16:26:20 GMT

omgz stephies on: and someone posted a comment
omgz stephies on: with the lj name
omgz stephies on: ...are you ready
omgz stephies on: ohthatwhitekid.
ohthatwhitegirl: !!!!!!!!!
ohthatwhitegirl: he posted a comment on my lj once!
omgz stephies on: are you serious?!
ohthatwhitegirl: i don't even know how he found it
ohthatwhitegirl: i think he has the same screenname because that screenname imed me once
ohthatwhitegirl: as well as ohthatblackgirl
ohthatwhitegirl: it was a dark period in my life.
ohthatwhitegirl: i was being harassed by ohthosekids.

No one cares about my dreams

Wed, 31 May 2006 15:59:23 GMT

Last night, I dreamt that I had won a contest that I didn't remember entering and my prize was attending Paris Hilton's birthday party. There were about 20 other winners, too, but for some reason, I kept ending up sitting next to the girl of honor. Instead of holding her party in a smoky, trendy club, her party was at a Swatch factory and all of the guests had to participate in summer camp-like games. Paris really took a liking to me. Strangely, I was flattered. Oh, and in case you're all wondering, she's much better looking in person.

Even if it meant I'd have to go to another Paris Hilton party, I wish I could fold my arms across my desk right now and go to sleep. I had a long day yesterday between my hours of NOTHING here at the office and then my first shift at the Plano Starbucks, which, by the way, was awesome.

Things I hate about my job:
--Archiving boxes of crap I am in no position to label and preserve for posterity
--I'm the only person under 30 here
--AIM Express--thought I had seen the last of this in high school
--The nearest place to eat is a 10 minute walk in DALLAS HEAT
--I have to report to work at 8:30 at the latest
--My uncomfortable (but admittedly cute) shoes
--The cafeteria sucks
--Every guy here is balding
--I don't have a phone
--Being in a cubicle. Allow me to expound: Cubicles have no doors. Without a door, I have no privacy. Without privacy, I can't masturbate.

Wet, Hot Texan Summer

Tue, 30 May 2006 18:53:51 GMT

Wet, as in my armpits ALL THE TIME.

Hot, as in all the people here except me because my parents won't let me wear much makeup and the makeup they do let me wear makes me look like I have AIDS.

Texan, as in what I refuse to call myself.

Summer, as in how long I have to be here for.

I am miserable.

I know all I do is complain about Texas, but you would too if you lived here.

Back in Maryland, until my senior year, I didn't have many friends. In fact, I only had about 5-6, and out of those 5-6, I only hung out with about 3-4 of them consistently. And yet, I was rarely lonely. Sure, there were evenings when I'd sit at home and mope and wish I were one of the cool kids who always had parties to go to, but I didn't consider myself a lonely person. I've always appreciated my alone time, but that comes from being an only child, I think. I knew that if I absolutely and desperately wanted to hang out with someone, I could.

I don't have a choice now. Even if I wanted to hang out with someone, I couldn't. I know a few dipshits here but hanging out with them is just as bad as being alone. All my mom's friends seem to either have children or know people who have children who are my age who are willing to spend time with me and, I dunno, get community service hours for it or something. Thanks but no thanks. I may be a pathetic loner but I have my pride...I think. I don't want to be a charity case.

Then again, maybe I should just suck it up and make friends I don't like. I feel like I'm in a "Twilight Zone" episode where scientists are watching me, experimenting with man's limitations in isolation.

Scene: A flat, sandy desert. Suddenly, a cactus falls from the sky and lands with a loud thud. A few more cacti follow. Then a church falls, then a shopping mall, then a spa and a hair and nail salon. Finally, we hear a crescendoing yell as Stephie plummets to the earth from above. She stands up and dusts herself off.)

Stephie: Where am I? Am I dead? Hello? (A tall woman in a designer suit with teased blonde hair approaches.)
Woman: Wayll hey-lo thayer!
Stephie: Oh thank god! Another living being.
Woman: Wheyere y'all frum now y'hear?
Stephie: ...do you speak English?
Woman: Wayll nawww coarse Ah do! You ain't whun o'daym here Hee-spay-nics now, ure ya?
Stephie: (Gestures to self) I...friend.
Woman: Raaaahhht...wayll it wuz naaahse maytin' ya! I gotta go git mah hayr dun. Y'all enjoy yur stay here iyan Tehx-ess! (Exit.)
Stephie: Amazing. Aliens do exist! I must remember to share this with the United States when I get home. What did she say this place was called again? Tehx...ess? Hmm...well while I'm here, I might as well explore a bit.

(Scene: Church)

Stephie: WOW! Starbucks? J. Crew? A public school? This is amazing! It's like a city within a city!
Reverend (appearing): Welcome to Prestonwood Church, or as we like to call it, the City of God. You are safe here, my child.
Stephie: I'm Jewish.
Reverend (face turning red, beads of sweat rolling down forehead): Jewish? JEWISH? BURN IN HELL, HEATHEN OF HEATHENS! BURN!   MURDERER!
Stephie: But I...
Reverend: Go! Leave this city before you destroy the Leader, too.
Stephie: Leader?
Reverend: Yes, the one we call...Dubya.
Stephie:   You people...worship...George Bush?
Reverend:   THOU SHALL NOT TAKE THE LEADER'S NAME IN VAIN! Who do you think you are?! You, I, all of us, we are merely citizens. Lowly peasants in the eye of the great Dubya.
Stephie (whispers to self): ...Jesus Christ.
Reverend: WHAT WAS THAT?
Stephie: Nothing! Nothing...I'm just gonna go. (Exit.)

(Scene: Mall. Hundreds of identical women walk around aimlessly in clusters. They all look like the woman from the first scene.)

Stephie: Please! Help! Someone! Anyone? Hello? Is there a brunette in the house? A Jew? Someone who got over a 1200 on the SAT? Someone who knows the difference between New England and the Mid-Atlantic? Someone who's seen a show on Broadway? (Walks faster. The mall starts spinning.) I'm ready to go home now! Make it go away! Please! (Crumples to the floor. The words come out in choked, exasperated sobs.) Home...home...

(Scene: Laboratory. Two scientists sit in front of a two-way mirror watching Stephie huddled in a corner of the mall.)
First scientist: Think she's had enough?
Second scientist: No, she hasn't killed herself yet. Give her five more minutes.

Build-a-What?

Thu, 25 May 2006 03:11:24 GMT

Happily ever after, for once

Sun, 07 May 2006 22:19:34 GMT

Last night Chad and I decided to see "Mission Impossible III." More accurately, Chad desperately wanted to see it on opening night and I, being the Good Girlfriend, had to put aside my loathing of Tom Cruise (really, he's so laughable at this point) and go with him.

For the first time ever, we Fandanoed our tickets.

So maybe it's logical that Chad screwed up and bought himself a ticket for Assembly Square (where the fuck is Assembly Square?) instead of Boston Common.

Not wanting his $10 to go to waste, I bought mine for Assy Square too. We figured we'd take the 89 bus and worry later about how to get back.

We waited and waited and waited. Finally, the 89 came.

"Do you go to Assembly Square?" I inquired.
"No, that's the 90," the grizzly bus driver said.

So we waited again. No sign of the 90. Finally we decided to screw the $20 we wasted and see MI3 at Boston Common (which REALLY pissed me off because now not only did I have to sit through two hours of Tom Cruise, but I had to pay double to do so!) Sure, the show was half an hour later than the one at Assembly Square, but at least we knew how to get there.

As soon as we walked into the movie theater foyer, we heard a guy roaming around asking if anyone wanted two free tickets to see the 7:15 MI3 (our show!)

There had to be a catch.

But there was no catch.

The guy used to work at the movie theater so he got 4 free tickets to see the show. Tragically, two of his friends called to say they couldn't make it and he decided to be a nice guy and give the tickets away instead of sell them.

Just thought I'd throw a happy story in my journal for once. :)

Bullis.

Tue, 02 May 2006 07:59:08 GMT

Not sure why, but I'm thinking about Bullis right now and I hate it more than ever.

fuck.

Wed, 26 Apr 2006 15:52:35 GMT

i don't know how i'm going to pull this one off

not even sparknotes can help me now

Let's do lunch.

Sun, 23 Apr 2006 04:52:51 GMT

Today I got a Palm T|X. I'm still not sure if I need it. I have seven days to decide before Best Buy will refuse to take it back.

I'll probably keep it and never use it.

Fall Out Boy is on SNL right now. I hate them so much more now that I know the lead singer is fat and ugly. And he's wearing a really gay cap. I'm not kidding. It's homosexual.

My feet hurt.

Tue, 18 Apr 2006 03:21:51 GMT

I got an e-mail from Vlada today.

:)

The Bubble popped.

Mon, 17 Apr 2006 07:11:51 GMT

I feel uneasy about something.

You know that feeling you get when something's wrong and you think to yourself "it's okay, once I _______ (fill in the blank here with the solution to your dilemma), everything will be OK"?

I keep trying to do that but I can't fill in the blank.

I don't even know what's bothering me. Here is what I do know:
a) something sucks right now.
b) I don't know how to fix it.
c) I am craving goat cheese, balsamic vinaigrette and boston bibb lettuce. (Together as one salad, not separately.) I know I've had it at a restaurant and I can't think of which one.

I've been feeling very lonely lately despite the healthy relationship I'm in, the roommate I love, the friends I have, and the job I'm holding down.

The job.

I hate it.

This is going to sound awful, but it's my journal and I'm not going to make apologies and it's sort of times like these that I wish I didn't have a friends list.

I can't deal with real life. I can't deal with middle America. It's too sad.

A few weeks ago I went to McDonald's for my dinner break. I never, ever eat at McDonald's but there aren't that many places to eat around Davis Square where you can be in-and-out in half an hour and I was getting sick of burritos. The restaurant reeked of grease and urine. Everything was plastic and sticky. I ordered my Caesar salad and fries and gingerly sat down at a table next to two fat grizzly guys in baseball caps with thick Boston accents.

Fat Guy 1: So I stahted my new jab tuhday. It went pretty well.
Fat Guy 2: Cool. How many houhas?
FG1: Foah a day, twelve tah fouah.
*5 minutes pass as they talk about their friends, Chip, Buddy and Rock.*
FG1: I'm gannah call my Pop. *pulls out cell phone and has conversation about new job.* I love ya, Pop. Bye. *click*
FG2: Pussy.
*more banter*

And there I sat in my J. Crew skirt and Gap polo shirt pretending to be engrossed in an episode of "South Park" on my brand-new video iPod while these guys, who represent about 95% of America, breathed and swallowed and sighed and yawned and ate at McDonald's for dinner like they had probably done 4 other times that week.

I suddenly understood how I, and everyone I know, are the top 1% of the country's economic demographic.

I should have felt proud and relieved and thankful, but I was too busy feeling depressed because I was walking a tightrope and for the first time, there was a very real possibility of falling and breaking my neck.

And here's the part I hate: Now that the net's been removed, I want it back more than ever.

I guess I'll work over the summer because working at a Plano Starbucks is like working at a Newport Starbucks. But next year, there's no way I can do this. I'm not ready for it yet. I still need to believe that at the end of the day, everyone drives their car into the garage of their single-family home and watches something on cable TV before sinking into a queen-sized bed in a well-lit room.

I miss Maryland. To think that I was walking the halls of Wootton a year ago and walking the halls of Bullis two years ago is mind-blowing. It feels like I was living someone else's life. Or, more accurately, that I'm living someone else's life now.

I watch and read about too much celebrity gossip. These people aren't my friends. I need to stop fixating. Chad's right. It's pathetic.

Goddamit, where the hell is my goat cheese-vinaigrette-Bibb salad?! I've been waiting for like, twenty minutes. WAITER?!?!?!

Cingular: raising the bar

Sat, 25 Mar 2006 00:05:10 GMT

I love when I open my flip phone and find the screen smudged with oil from the last time I had it pressed to my ear. I should think about sticking the antennae in my ear. A cultivated earwax culture could be cute.

Can you hear me now?

Bel-imperia is a pretentious boob

Thu, 23 Mar 2006 00:32:50 GMT

AAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!

I was already afraid of getting a C on my English paper, but this confirms it.

I have a glaring typo in the first line.

THE FIRST LINE, PEOPLE.

"When Thomas Kyd penned “The Spanish Tragedy” in the last 1580s..."

Fuck.

WHY DOES COLLEGE HATE ME?

also i hate kellie pickler

Tue, 21 Mar 2006 01:26:53 GMT

I will never be one of those old women who spends 15 minutes at the cash register at the grocery store bickering over $2 in coupons for packaged salads.

Never.

Actual conversation!

Wed, 01 Mar 2006 06:08:54 GMT

Domino's: Hi, Domino's, what would you like?
Me: Medium pizza, garden salad, and cinnamon sticks.
Domino's (in the most annoyed voice anyone has ever used to ask anyone anything EVER): That's it?
Me: ....and a....Coke?
Domino's: $19.95. Twenty minutes.

*click*

Miserable

Sun, 19 Feb 2006 04:43:52 GMT

I have a complex zit on my chin.

It's not just a red nipply target with a head that I can explain with a shrug and an exasperated gesticulation to those who might stare.

It's a yellowish-orange bubble of fluid surrounded by dry skin that keeps drying and crusting into an angry red scab dressed in more dry skin. I keep rubbing my thumb across my chin hoping that the scab will magically fall off and the dry skin will go away and I'll look normal again but all I'm doing is creating more zits, apparently, because this morning I sprouted an identical (but smaller) one below it.

The point of all this is that I feel ugly. The rest of my skin looks fine. My hair is fine. My teeth are fine. But no matter how much I shower or brush my teeth or moisturize myself with vanilla lotion, I feel hopelessly and tragically ugly. I feel too fat and too tall and it doesn't help that I feel very lazy and very tired but most of all, I feel very very lonely.