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Thursday, March 21st, 2002
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9:02 pm - hmmm.
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It bothers me when the dog chews on my slippers. It bothers me infinitely more when she does it when they're on my feet.
current mood:  content
current music: Burning Airlines: Wheaton Calling
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| Monday, March 18th, 2002
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8:43 pm - Anyone for seconds?
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My shampoo "flavor" is called passion flower, but it should be called peach jello. That's exactly what it smells like.
current mood:  excited
current music: Dismemberment Plan: The DP Gets Rich
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| Thursday, March 14th, 2002
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10:20 pm - THE FIGHTIN' WHITIES!!!
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I am never dating again. Ever. You're all fucking nuts! Every night, I'm just trying to relax after work and Mr. Co-Dependency calls to let me know he's once again pissed off because I didn't call every 10 or so minutes:
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Him: Where WERE you?!?
Me: Hon, I just got off work.
Him: But why didn't you call?
Me: When could I have called? I just got home from work.
Him: You can't even take out ONE FUCKING MINUTE to call me?!? You don't care at all!
Me (trying to be patient): I just got off work. I walked in the door maybe 5 minutes ago.
Him: What's your point?
Me (sighing): Nevermind.
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And it's really very sad because we've known each other for 6 years...and I just can't stand him anymore. I have plenty to think about without having to adjust my life for some strange kid who can't seem to detach himself from my ass.
Somehow I find myself wondering where I find these people.
current mood:  aggravated
current music: Bishop Allen: Ghosts are good company
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| Tuesday, March 12th, 2002
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11:32 pm - What's worse than kid rock?
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kid rock singing country.
What's worse than kid rock singing country?
Being forced to LISTEN to kid rock singing country on a loop all day long.
I am bored. And this is, while the story of my life, no good. I tried thinking of something to do. Something productive, you know. Like make out a budget. or mail my taxes (finally). or clean my room. or something. I even thought of non-productive, yet fun, things to do: practice guitar, make mix tapes, write some long-awaited letters, work on the cartoon I'm supposed to make for Eric, or my secret project I'm working for a certain member of my "family." Yet...somehow, I don't know if you've ever noticed or not, nothing sounds interesting when you're bored. When I'm busy, I'm all like, "Yeah! I can't wait for time to work on that!!" But then the time comes around and I get all blank-eyed and wander around the house aimlessly. If I were my cat, I'd prolly start mewing at the walls for no apparent reason. (that *has* to be why Atari does that. And Pal for that matter.)
Well. In closing, I will leave you with some useless knowledge (which you may very well already be aware of):
The origin of the word "Juggernaut" is from India, where once a year there is a festival. During the festival, a chariot is driven...or whatever...from one place to another. In tradition, the chariot is not allowed to stop. If it runs into a building, the building has to be knocked down so the chariot can continue on a straight path. All this is done for Krishna and stuff and juggernaut is used as title for him/her/it/whatever. Originally it was spelled Jaggernaut, but us English-speaking people are dumb, so it was changed. And there you go.
current mood:  awake
current music: Go Sailor: Ray of Sunshine
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| Monday, March 4th, 2002
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2:41 pm - IMPERSONATORS!!!!
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So my friend wants to play dominoes online. No problem, right? So I try to make an account at Pogo.com. And guess what? There's already a Suefishie. What does this mean? Why it means that there are god-knows-how-many of us running around! How is anyone ever going to know who the real one is?!? As we speak, I could actually be a pseudo-fishie taking over the real suefishie's life. Scary. At this point, I'm not even sure if *I* know who I am. It's like all those cartoons where the bad guy dresses up like the good guy and then all the good guy's friends have to decide who the original is. And it's all very confusing. That's all.
current mood: aggravated
current music: Citizen Cope: let the drummer kick
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| Tuesday, February 26th, 2002
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10:53 pm - Why must I be so close to Kentucky?
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Since the 15th of this month, there has been a cow running around Cincinnati. They finally caught it today. Today is the 26th. That means that there has been a cow frolicking around Cincinnati for 11 days. Only here.
I now have a job. It's at a casino. I do not expect this job to be enjoyable. Not in the least. But at least it's a job.
And outside of that, I really need to stop posting when I really don't have anything to say. I had to share the cow story, though.
current mood: content
current music: Fat Boy Slim: Funk Soul Brother
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| Wednesday, February 20th, 2002
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1:21 pm - When It Rains, It Pours - or- Suefishie Prepares Herself for Another Bad Decision
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You know, I could go on and on for titles with this one. In fact, I could make my entire entry just a long list of possible titles without ever actually delving into the actual subject of this entry. Of course, you'd likely be able to grasp the basic idea if you happened to be the type of person who would read an entire journal entry made up entirely of possible titles for that particular journal entry. Which brings me to a possible problem. If I were, indeed, the type of person who would actually write...or type rather...a journal entry made up of titles for that journal entry, would I formally title it (and have the remaining titles) refer to the subject I had originally intended to discuss, or would I have them indicate that my journal entry was made up of titles? Or both? Usually, the title of something gives the reader an idea of what the "piece" (if you will) will be about. In short, it gives the subject of the main idea. You see my problem. What exactly would the subject be?
But I digress....
So I have now officially met two people who are "not your typical guy." This makes me laugh. And they both expect me to take them seriously. This makes me laugh even harder. Yeah, okay guys. You go and be atypical. I'll just go drive around for a while. And just in case you're missing the point:
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"Hey."
"Oh, hi. How've you been?"
"Pretty good. Would you like to go to a movie or something this friday?"
"Yeah that sounds really great."
"Good! I'll pick you up around 7?"
"I'll be ready!"
"You're in for a real treat. I am a typical guy."
"Wow. really?"
"Oh yes."
"Can we get married?"
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No, my friends, it simply does not work that way. For whatever reason. That's why we're (in general) looking for that special one person. Because if that person weren't special, then I would have married that guy who kept knocking himself out years ago. And in a way, one of these guys is special. Real special. Like rides the short bus special:
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"was you shocked that i call you?"
"man, he be not educated."
"yes, i was born in kentucky."
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and that's how i feel about all that.
current mood:  amused
current music: ben lee: away with the pixies
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| Thursday, February 14th, 2002
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2:59 pm - Don't feel bad, you're smarter than *me*
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Does anybody have any guesses about who is talented enough to cut herself on a hairdryer? Anyone?
ow.
current mood: content
current music: Modest Mouse: Talkin' shit about a pretty sunset
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| Saturday, February 9th, 2002
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6:10 pm - score.
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um. So I met a guy. He seems alright. Rather old, but alright. This one took me to the movies instead of Chuck E. Cheese's. Hmmm. I am contemplating re-examining my perspective of myself. It appears to have changed without my permission.
current mood:  curious
current music: AFI: God Called in Sick Today
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| Friday, February 8th, 2002
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3:32 pm - Where did I put the noose?
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A few days ago, I realized why I try to avoid asking my father any questions. My brother hurt his hand at work a week ago and had to be taken to the emergency room. The few days later:
Me: So, dad. How did the hospital go? What was wrong with JT's hand?
Dad: Well, Stacey. While at work, he accidentally hit it with a crowbar. See, he was trying to pull down a piece of wood, but the wood was stuck pretty well. Those builders must have known what they were doing. Very sturdy. But anyway, he had the crowbar and was trying to wrench the wood down. But, like I said, it was stuck good. So, he put all his weight into it and pushed the bar upwards and then the wood gave and so he slammed his hand inbetween the wood and the wall, crushing his hand. Apparently it hurt quite badly. But it was no more than bruised...well, we though anyway.
Me: Uh-huh I know this part. What did the doctor say about his hand?
Dad: So then yesterday, after the superbowl, a WEEK LATER he hits the hand, which bytheway, was still quite sore against the table in the living room. You know, the one with the lamp on it? Well, the one with the lamp AND the picture frame. Well, he hits his hand against it and I guess it aggravated the injury or something because all of a sudden the pain increased by a lot. And I mean a lot. I mean, the boy was almost in tears. And you know James, he doesn't cry very easily. That boy. He has an incredible pain tolerance. He really does. I think he gets it from me.
Me: yeah.
Dad: So we didn't think too much of it, except the pain didn't go away after a few hours and then his hand started swelling. I mean badly. It was huge. Like one of those red foam finger things they give you at basketball games? I had one of those once. I had to wait until college though, because my father never took my anywhere. Least of all a basketball game. Actually, that's not really true. He did take us on vacation once. But it was really just to visit my Uncle Fred, you met Uncle Fred honey. Remember? The big guy? Eats a lot? He slept in your bed and Makita growled and barked at him the whole time he stayed. Wow. That was years ago. You should be glad your mother and I take you places.
Me: Oh I am.
Dad: Good. So JT's hand was huge and the pain wasn't going away. So finally, I told your mother about it and she just looked at me and said that we better take your brother to the emergency room because he might have broken something. And your mom didn't really want to go, because she was tired and had to be at work early the next day. But she was really interested in what was wrong with JT's hand. So I just told her that I could take him. She felt really guilty, but it really wasn't a big deal, so I finally talked her into staying and told her I'd call if I-or James-needed her.
Me: Uh-huh.
Dad: She ended up staying up until we were home anyway. That woman worries too much. She might as well have come. Then she'd at least of felt better. It wasn't really necessary for us BOTH to be there, though. It wasn't like the boy was in a coma. The worst it could be would be broken hand. and yeah, that's a bad thing, but hardly life-threatening.
Me: Yeah.
Dad: When we got there, we signed in and we were at the top of the list and there was no one else in the ER, so I was really excited, we'd be in and out in no time. I thought it would take really time. I mean, it usually does, but if we were the only ones there, then it shouldn't take too long, right? But then some EMT's bring in this asshole who was in a car accident and some other jerk with a bullet in his thigh came in. So naturally, JT had to wait longer. I mean, it sucks, but those patients couldn't really wait, could they. The hospital HAD to take care of them first. So we finally go in to see the doctor and he looks at the hand, diagnoses it, wraps it up, and gives us a prescription for tylenol 3, but he gave us two pills so we could use them on the way home so we'd have some time to fill the prescription.
Me: uh-huh.
Dad: So we come home and I put JT to bed, since the codeine knocked that boy out. and I explain everything to your mother and we go to bed. That boy though. Sleeps all day. That tylenol really puts him out. Good thing though. Because if he's asleep, he won't be using that hand to build birdhouses and the like. I figure if we keep him doped up and off that hand for a coupla days, he should be good as new. Seems to be working alright. Last time he was awake, he said it didn't hurt too bad anymore. Guess it's healing pretty well. Gotta' hide those pills from him, though. Can't have JT and the neighborhood kids gettin' all high on 'em.
Me: So what was wrong with JT's hand?
Dad: I dunno'. Just bruised it badly, I guess.
Incidentally, Del will be glad to know that its taken me over a week to finish the book I'm reading and I'm still not done. Too embarrassed to tell you what it is though. I'll just let you know that it isn't LOTR.
current mood: content
current music: New Pornographers: My Slow Decent Into Alcoholism
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| Tuesday, January 29th, 2002
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7:37 pm - Suefishie Vs. Nice Jewish Boy (to sum up)
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I met a guy. We went on a date. It sucked. He's lame.
current mood: content
current music: at the drive-in: one armed scissor
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| Tuesday, January 22nd, 2002
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1:36 pm - This, too, shall pass.
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Why is everyone five steps behind me? To be honest, it makes no sense, because *I'm* the one who is never with the program. Damn you all.
Well, things are somewhat strange being home. But it's alright. Because I am slowly getting my life back together. Yes friends, I've been here a week and I'm already getting things together. Of course, there's always that pesky get-a-job situation, but I'm working on that. And hopefully, it'll work out well. and soon. Because, for God's sake, I'm fucking broke.
Went to my friend's show. I was pleasantly surprised. They're actually quite good. It was at a park and Tom made grilled cheese for everyone at the show. It was really nice.
So, even though I can't fucking wait to get back to Chicago, for the most part, things are going pretty well.
Except my Uncle Mike died yesterday. Which is no good at all. Not even a little bit. I wish you guys could have met him, because he ruled. I'm kind of worried about my aunt and my cousin. I'm sure they'll get through it, but he was still rather young.
I had to write the eulogy. Which I am not very happy about. I mean, don't get me wrong, I really loved my Uncle Mike. But damn. I don't want to be responsible for a mess of a eulogy.
I really like Uncle Mike.
current mood:  sad
current music: Sunny Day Real Estate: Pillars
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| Saturday, January 12th, 2002
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3:27 pm - The Strangest 24 Hours of My Life...thus far.
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So a quick synopsis:
1 pm: Put Charlie down.
Called Girl.
Got lip pierced...suprisingly it didn't hurt very much at all.
Met the Kids at Clark's. Chilled for hours.
Went home so the Kids could see Del before she left.
Drank a beer.
Watched *** drink entirely too much.
*** shares his love and life story.
Girl confesses she has a crush on me.
*** repeatedly professes his love for ^^.
^^ becomes very uncomfortable.
Del and Sue also become increasingly more uncomfortable.
*** proceeds to be an asshole.
*** needs to be cut off, but no one is tough enough to do it.
10 am: the Kids finally leave and on the way, *** ruins his friendship with girl and ^^.
3 pm: Del leaves. Sue gets real sad.
I feel like a Ricki Lake show.
current mood: sad
current music: AFI: God Called in Sick Today
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| Thursday, January 10th, 2002
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11:23 pm - What the Fuck?!?
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How the hell did this happen?
 | Noise, noise, noise, smokin' weed, smokin' weed, doin' coke, drinkin' beers! What's up baby? Sup sluts? You're Jay, and you're all about pussy! You hate guys, you love women! But deep behind your mask of stupidity, some would say you possess knowledge beyond your years. Well, maybe not. Who fuckin' farted?
Take The "Which Kevin Smith Male Are You?" Quiz!! |
current mood: content
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10:36 pm - Let the countdown begin:
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3 days until go time.
I'm pretty psyched. Mostly because tomorrow is Pierce My Lip day.
About leaving Chicago, I'm feeling pretty good about my decision, but I know I'll miss this god-awful place. I love it. I really really do. But I'll be back, so I guess there really isn't a reason to fret about it. That's why I'm not.
My parents are overly excited, however. They feel that they've won the long hard-fought battle of making stacey live in Cincinnati forever. Little did they know, I'm just using them for room and board. My mom was sure to tell me though: "Honey, I want you to know that just because you've decided to move back to Cincinnati, you haven't failed in anyway. So you shouldn't feel like a failure."
Which is kind of funny. Actually, though, I can't say that I feel like a failure. At all. I am, however, relieved to be getting a chance to start fresh and clean-like.
current mood: content
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| Tuesday, January 8th, 2002
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11:41 pm - I'll be baaaaaaaaaaack!
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Monday will be my last day in Chicago for a while. I've decided to go home to Cincinnati in order to save some money so I can finally go to Columbia. I'm kind of sad, because I really do love this city and after living on my own for a year, I'm not really looking forward to moving in with my parents. On the other hand, I'm actually rather excited. It will be nice to hang out with friends I don't normally see all that often.
I'm kind of mad at myself, though. Because after I left Bowling Green, I swore to myself that I would never again leave a place and have no one remember that I was even there. And it appears that I'm once again doing that sort of thing. But. I'll get another chance in Chicago this fall. I plan to be back here in August or something. And I'm actually considering living in the dorms for the first two semesters. I'll probably regret this decision, as I detest few things more than communal living. However, it seems like a good idea.
The only other bad part is the pets. I'm allowed to take one cat home with me. But that still leaves one cat and one ferret. I don't really want to get rid of them. But hopefully, we'll be able to find them good homes.
I'm hoping I'm making the right decision. I made it rather impulsively, but it seems like it may actually be a good idea I know I'll be alble to go either way, but this will be, by far, the easier way. I hate copping out like that. But fuck. I think I have do something, because I certainly did not come to Chicago to work at Potbelly's.
So kids, I'm sure you'll here from me again while I'm still in Chicago, but for now....
current mood: content
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| Monday, January 7th, 2002
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1:01 am - I can't believe today was a good day.
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Whoo-hoo! I get to be on a street team!
current mood: excited
current music: Some strange CD I picked up out of a box outside of Ragstock
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| Sunday, January 6th, 2002
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10:13 pm - A suicide note for all to see.
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On the way home Friday, I ran into a guy I used to work with at United Way. He proceeded to tell me that some people were worried (I think he means Linda) and the rumor was I'd killed myself.
Which is pretty funny.
I explained to him the whole stuck-in-wisconsin situation. He told me that he hadn't believed I was dead because I'm "too gritty" to take that way out. I'll take it as a complement...even though we all know that I am most certainly not gritty. And as Del said, there is no way I'd kill myself because it would hurt too much.
Quiet. Not suicidal.
current mood: content
current music: rod: focal point
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| Friday, January 4th, 2002
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11:26 pm - I'm a good little girl;
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I don't talk because I spent my time learning to sew.
What it all comes down to is I'm sick of people coming and going so quickly. I wish people would stick around a little longer.
I have to work 11 hours tomorrow. I can't even begin to explain how much that sucks. On the upside, I have something to do. This is two Fridays in a row. Unfuckingbelievable.
current mood: content
current music: The Dismemberment Plan: I Love a Magician
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| Sunday, December 30th, 2001
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7:56 pm - Owen = Very Nice.
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