call him geoff. but do not let him fool you...

my media aesthetics class is working on photographic storyboards, and i just began work on mine an hour ago.

allow me to introduce the star of my project...

his name is geoff. he is a gnome. he is small, but do not doubt him: he will beat ur ass.

he's beating mine.

b/c as photogenic as he seems right now, his lucid charm and stifling wit are quite difficult to capture on film. allow me to demonstrate in exhibits A, B, and C:

he's looking kinda blurry, isn't he?

anyway, i came home from a meeting with a living wage comrade, and the sunset was so beautiful -- this bright orange creamsicle strip floating above a blueberry horizon -- i just had to photograph it. and then i recalled my assignment, and how funny it must've looked to outsiders to see me pressed against my window, so intently documenting this transitory moment.

then i looked up at the window pane, where my gnomes reside, and thot, "well, this could be a compelling filmic opportunity."

and why not? Hitchcock used his actors as props, being of such strong directorial mind and firm vision that he didn't want them to interfere with his artistic vision of what the film should be. he crafted his story boards down to the last detail, and merely used his actors to bring them to life.

seeing as how i'm on a Hitchcock kick as of late, i thot it synthetic to try the Hitchcock method myself...

only problem is, i don't have a narrative as of yet. i'm still waiting for a flash of creative inspiration. unfortunately, my media aesthetics class will not permit non-narrative films. boo.

i only have fleeting ideas. some involving a gnome 10x his size. maybe some death. maybe some ghosts. maybe some use of exhibit B (above).

maybe you can help me? what should geoff do? what should happen to my tiny friend? what kind of things can happen to a contemplative gnome who enjoys watching sunsets? what happens when the sun disappears completely?

any ideas? any suggestions? what shld happen to geoff and how should that look?

perhaps i'm more of an Altman than a Hitchcock...
-stephan!e

what would you do for love?

"i'd do anything for love...
but i won't do that."
-Meatloaf

---

i watched the korean film OLDBOY last night. i'd heard it was stylishly cool and excruciatingly vivid to watch.

and indeed it was.


be that as it may, here is what i liked most: it began as your typical revenge story (character is imprisoned. s/he is tortured. s/he doesn't know why. s/he escapes or is released. character is angry. s/he wants revenge. s/he spends remainder of film finding perpetrators. and perpetrating sweet vengeance...)

however, despite its violent beginnings as your typical revenge story, it ultimately ends up being about love. specifically, the violent nature of love.

about loving something or someone so hard that everything else becomes a distortion. everything else is pain, and everything/something/someone else should pay for the anguish you're suffering because of the intensity of your passion.

passion breeds insanity. pleasure and anguish are variations on a theme. bloodlust and lust for another person... are they really so different?

---

in all, OLDBOY is a postmodern film akin to FIGHT CLUB in style and dark pessimistic humanism. not the violent bloody romp i expected, which is, of course, a pleasant and welcome surprise.

---

o boo. i just found out there might be a remake coming out in 2008. i hope this is some cruel joke, b/c i am quite tired of the Americanized, highly Hollywood-ized remakes trying to outdo their Asian originals. why fuck with a good thing?

early starts

hear here, here hear!

it's 9 am on an ice-tinged saturday, and i have begun official work on my thesis!

today, we shall flesh out the outline, determine which research will be necessary before i can begin writing the first chapters, and --i hope-- have a rough understanding of democratic educational history and philosophy.

the goals for this semester's research:
-history/philosophy of democratic ed
-timelines and maps and lists
-case studies (my educational autobio, Highlander School, Central Academy)
-field work (local school, local U, local community)

first nuggets of the day:
the language of education. education vs schooling. learners vs students. mentors vs teachers. finding ways to make language "work."
the pedagogy of the oppressed. schooling can be oppressive. teachers use grades as leverage against undesirable student behavior. grades and favoritism as ways to silence challengers. we become slaves to grades before we become wage slaves. (we're always slaves!)
"educational reform" = my death blow. i want to integrate theory and practice, toward a more empowering and effective (rather than efficient) system and method of education. but as long as i'm open about what i see as egregious flaws in the educational process, i will be met with heavy criticism and hostility. no one wants to admit they're doing things wrong, or concede to an undergraduate. no one can acknowledge that i have experience in the educational system enough to be a critic of it.
why split my experience in education into hierarchies, levels of understanding? why limit the study of higher education to the graduate level? this assumes an undergraduate cannot understand what they experience on a daily basis? must i really have all 4 yrs of undergrad under my belt before i can be a critical, conscious student of higher education?
why are we always looking back rather than simply looking? if i can examine it closely now, why wait until it's even further away?

and these thoughts from a classroom experience last thursday:
relationships of power - students become afraid to challenge/ to speak their mind
-they learn to love convention and obey rules. there's safety in rules. there's safety in passivity. to submit is to be safe and invisible in passivity. to speak one's mind is to challenge the teacher's authority, to make the banking method difficult, to interfere with the completion of the teacher's job. to be vocal is to be a terrorist.
-students sacrifice their intellectual freedom for safety, both in the classroom and in life

awesome gif art

royal madness!

enjoy yr weekend,
stephan!e

the nature and nurture of blogging

school's been getting me down lately, because they (the administration, the bureaucracy, "them" who are not "me" or "us") won't let me take the classes i want and need to research my thesis.

basically, the line they give me has been some variation on "So... it sounds like you're interested in X. I recommend studying X before you write your thesis. But we don't have classes in X, and the ones that are necessary we won't let you take, so you'll have to independently work on it yourself. But you shouldn't work by yourself, because you could get lost. But I don't have time to help you. But you should study..."

since school can be so depressing, let's not think about it, and turn our attentions instead to an informal institution of education, the internet...

i've been asked by many friends and professors for my opinion on what i see blogs doing for democracy. on the one hand, we have (for us with internet access) unlimited opportunity to self-publish and voice our opinion. we have as much freedom and place in the great digital mesh of voices as big corporations and established news zines for our own work. this has potential for revolutions and subversions of established publishing powers and authorities. unfortunately, the blog has increasingly become less a medium of value and dependable journalism, and more a cheap and instant way to distribute porn, spam, and the mundane stories of extra ordinary individuals in their endearing self-assumed importance.

and don't get me wrong, i saw myself falling into the latter category too. that's why i dropped the other blogs and have been working hard to keep this blog about "significant" things (i.e. not my personal life or my day to day activities, but about breakthrus, however minor they may be, or nuances for my senior project).

= i'm a serious blogger now.

and rather than bore u with too many rantings about my institution of higher "learning," i shall wax philosophical about personal communication and the internet.

i've had too many relationships depend on email. i meet many ppl who insist on emailing as our only form of communication. which is fine, b/c i hate the phone, and there's a certain comfortable familiarity with our computers that i think enables us to email/IM/text one another so easily. in fact, most of my most meaningful relationships have been through email (i can think of at least 5 really good friends who i got to know and continue to know thru email).

is this not in a way sad? why are we so interpersonally starved that we must maintain barriers of metal and wires between us? why are we so comfortable to talk about ourselves to a nameless anonymous void called the blogosphere when we could easily step next door and sit down with a friend and talk face-to-face instead?

b/c we're scared of being intellectuals, of being thinking, feeling humans. we're robots, don't you know? and horrible exhibitionists. everyone's vying for a piece of that 15 minutes. even me. and a blog is such a quick dirty way to do it.

here's a conversation i had with my friend matt a while ago. we discussed this theory over, what else, an online chatting service. i think we came to some pretty revealing conclusions.

beep beep
blah blah
-stephan!e

---> he has some thoughts on myspaciness too!

12:37 AM Matt: wow, you're pretty prolific with your blogging

me: how's that now?

12:38 AM Matt: you write a lot

me: oh. i guess.

12:39 AM i thot you were referring to my many blogs

i have like 5 now...

i have commitment issues
[...]

you want the perfect url name

and then maybe you don't like the username you chose or something

it's pretty ridiculous

12:44 AM Matt: it's like the slightly more mature older sibling of livejournal

me: i know

12:45 AM but i have more respect for bloggers than livejournalists

i mean, that's just so obviously narcissistic

Matt: true

me: this way we can at least be subtle egoists

Matt: haha, yeah

12:46 AM that's what's so great about it, you can write about yourself without feeling like you're forcing yourself on anyone, since its voluntary

me: exactly

and it's like being semi-published

12:47 AM there's at least some validity to it

12:50 AM Matt: there's something about this whole idea of personal blogging that's so interesting... the idea that you put your personal thoughts out there for the entire internet to see

me: yeah definitely

Matt: stuff that you wouldn't tell the people around you

me: i mean, you wouldnt' publish your diary, right?

i know1

12:51 AM Matt: you'd think not... but apparently we do

or would

me: i'm more honest on my blog than i am to my friends and family in person

exactly

what is it about the perceived anonymity of the internet that allows us to abandon our inhibitions

perhaps it's because we feel no one is watching and reading

but isn't that sad?

we're a generation that assumes no one cares

12:52 AM Matt: but on one hand, i think i kinda want someone to be reading

me: yeah but does anyone?

Matt: just someone i dont know

me: we all crave audiences, few of us get any

Matt: an anonymous admirer

me: yup

Matt: yeah, there's probably not

me: it's so narcissistic

Matt: but there could be

you never know

that's the genius of it, i guess

me: what self-absorbed bastards all of us are

12:53 AM Matt: haha, what else is there

me: right right

i think a lot of it is seeking validation too

you feel more real and alive when you see other ppl noticing you

Matt: yeah, definitely

12:54 AM me: how else are you sure you're not living a dream?

12:55 AM Matt: yeah, how else can you form/maintain a self-image

me: i know, we have to rely on others to help us shape our selves

how sad and pathetic we all are

Matt: i'd like to think it's at least endearing sad and pathetic

12:56 AM me: haha i guess it is

Matt: *endearingly

me: you have to work for the endearing tho
[...]

we've grown up not believing anyone cares about us

so what do we become?

whiny emo exhibitionists armed with liejournals and myspace accounts

or blogs and facebooks, if you're classy.

;-)

1:00 AM Matt: ha, exactly

laughing at life's absurdities

in coming back to school with the intentions of taking as few classes as possible, i somehow ended up taking 26 credit hours worth (twice what i had intended!) b/c i am trying to add grad-level classes, i have had to go to all my classes, both ones i've signed up for and those for which i am awaiting approval. but in running back and forth between classes, i have also managed to miss parts of most of my undergrad classes, causing me to need to drop them. so, in trying to take 26 credit hours, i may now be reduced to none at all. that's how yesterday's math makes sense.

---

in other news, i got an email from my school today announcing fellowships from the department of homeland security! obviously, i was all a-flutter with unspeakable joy and wonderment! how my heart doth beat with anticipation...

but i was all agape with disappointment when i looked only a little deeper into the situation:


the department of homeland security's fellowships are only offered to science and technology students who can help develop and implement "innovations that can be applied to the DHS mission." what mission you ask? well, this one of course:

let's take a closer look:

mmm, ok, yeah. i'm glad the department of homeland security could help me discern what it is they actually do. it's all so clear to me now!

and of course, i'm glad to see the security of our homeland is in the hands of such conscientious and non-colorblind individuals.
i was glad, as you should be, to note that our nation's level of security can be defined so succinctly, so poignantly, so colorfully. it gives a whole new meaning to terror when i can see it on a sliding scale of high energy visible light.

so when speaking with visitors to our strange homeland, and the question of national security comes up (as it inevitably will) in conversation, you can reply coolly and knowingly, "why, dear sir/madam, it is currently ORANGE. you're lucky: a few years ago, we were in a horrible state of an utterly unflattering, unappetizing, unwelcoming MUSTARD YELLOW. welcome to America!"

clever people. always thinking...
-stephan!e

back at school

had my first day of classes today and now i'm tired.

bureaucracy in education is a useless fumbling hairy beast. if i want to take a grad level class, should anyone really be allowed to deny it to me?

is it bad that one of the considerations keeping me in a class is that the professor has cancer and i'm worried that if i don't take it now, i may never?

all i want to do is watch movies and be happy. is that too much to ask?

now that i'm more grown up than ever, i'm wanting more and more to be a child.

it's only monday. wednesday will be even worse! class from 9 am to 10 PM! + a meeting for my tutoring gig. (= don't wake up on wednesdays. you will regret it.)

i will either be taking 26 total credit hours, or none at all. how that math makes sense is beyond my mathematical ability...

the boys who live above me don't realize that when they jump around above my head, it sometimes feels like they are actually jumping on my head.

sleep now. cogent thots later.
-stephanie

revamped

stephanie has cleaned house for the new year!

how do you like the makeover?

let's compare, shall we?

old:







new:



i kinda like it myself. the blog was becoming more whimsical and serious at the same time, and it needed something... more polished.

i think this did the trick.

it's my last day at home tomorrow. i think it fair if i spend it away from the computer.

see you again in oxford,
stephan!e

where did young stephanie go?

growing-up stephanie is brooding at home, wistfully remembering the past, anxiously dreading the future. particularly the immediate future, which holds much packing, re-sorting, reorganizing, and reordering of her life. and much driving, which she despises.

so let's take a comfy seat in the past instead.
-stephanie

stephanie lee, the famous writer:
playing with my dad:
working with my mom:
in the kitchen with baby Cal:
the young parents:

with such a beautiful family, is it any wonder i resist going back to school?

time travel is easy

yesterday, i showed you pictures from travel books i found from my childhood.

today, i share more intimate glimpses into the past.

first, pictures from this book i made in Montessori school*:
the scribbled "copyright" on the inside cover indicates that i made this in 1995. that was a full 12 years ago. the book is a delicate creation titled "Grown-ups always do everything!" and features 20 unique pages of pencil drawings paired with different privileges of the older class i envied as a 9-year-old imprisoned in the educational system.
it is handbound: as i remember, i drew the pictures in sequence in a booklet of salvaged computer paper, then folded the pages together, made holes in the crease and threaded them together. i then glued the end pages to the covers, which were cardboard pieces i covered in a soft fabric (you can see this detail in the photo).
(for those interested in the art of self-binding, this is a simplified version of case-binding.)

what i find most interesting was the "about the author" on the back inside cover:
notice how i mis-typed my own birthday (Dec 26, not 29) and how my goal "is to someday be a famous writer." where did that young girl go?

---

finding this treasure brings back fond memories of elementary school, and being left to my own devices, i recall spending recesses and afterschools playing with paper materials, making countless notebooks and sketchbooks of various sizes and colors, giving them to friends and family, keeping some for myself for later writing. i determined to use every book i made for a story or novel (as i said, i had dreams of being a writer. and evidently, a self-published one.)

i once gave a boyfriend a hand-bound book i made in 8th grade, a unique gift because i had marbleized paper for the covers, and bound it in japanese style, with a beaded tassle bookmark.

---

seriously, where did that young dreamer go?

finding these relics from childhood makes me feel sad for dreams i've let go. but it also gives me renewed faith in the person i am. and a sense of duty to the past.

but the past is merely a distant present. and the future is the present is the past. why leave book-binding in the past? why allow self-publication to be a left-behind childhood dream. i'm self-binding my senior thesis. let's call it a tribute to the dreamers.

tomorrow: more pictures from the past.

to the past, and its presents,
stephanie


*note to self: research the Montessori method for your senior project. according to Webster's, the Montessori method emphasizes developing children's "natural" interests, rather than following a strict formal curriculum. this has interesting developmental implications, and is as close a method to facilitated autodidacticism that i can think of in an extant institutional setting.

treasures from the past

while looking for a book earlier tonight, i rediscovered these hidden gifts from the past:

picture books my family got in our travels to western europe! they are, clockwise from top left: a picture guide to Stockholm, Sweden; Madurodam in pictures; a map/guide of the Hohensalzburg Fortress; guide book for Neuschwanstein and Hohenschwangau; sightseeing in Vienna; and a biography of King Ludwig II ("His Life - His End").

my favorites are the first two:
Stockholm b/c of my fond memories of living in endless swedish summer sunlight and holding my mother's dress hem in one hand, and my brother's stroller in the other, walking to the markets for smoked hams/cheeses and apples, then going to ancient magistrate buildings and museums. and the hot-air balloons that festooned the sky. i remember the boats and the endless water, and stone lions.
and Madurodam, because my dad remembers how my brother and i spent the whole day chasing the toy trains around and around, screaming and laughing, like miniature godzillas terrorizing even more miniature cityscapes around us. the thought of my brother and i being so small, that we delighted in an hour or so in being "big kids" made me smile.

tomorrow, some real snapshots of my childhood.
-stephanie

senior (project) moments

i've theorized myself into a wall!

i've been thinking constantly about my senior project since i got home from school, and i've been jotting little post-it notes to myself all over my room, with little "nuggets" of theories and ideas to further research, little blurbs i will probably use in my thesis in some capacity. it's exciting, but it's also very exhausting work. i want to do it all at once, but i don't have the proper resources yet. i have so many ideas and energy, i don't know what to do with it all. i spent hours today sorting thru old books, articles, literature i've compiled since i began my studies at school, looking for readings to support my spontaneously generated theories, but merely tire myself out in the search.

i'm going to the library tomorrow to do some much-needed mulling away from my computer, and to read a book. i've made an effort to read a book about every week since i've been home, and so far, i've surprised myself with my results: i finished IN COLD BLOOD in 4 days, finished EVERYTHING IS ILLUMINATED in 2, and read EINSTEIN'S DREAMS on the insistence of a friend in about a week. now, i'm reading fragments from ANIMAL FARM, DRESS YOUR FAMILY IN CORDUROY AND DENIM, and various senior project books on language, metaphors, and psychogeography, including an ex-boyfriend's senior thesis. and trying to decide between starting CAT'S CRADLE or THE BELL JAR before school.

sweet dreams,
stephanie

p.s. this is what the senior project is known to do to good people. let's say i'm willing to spend extra time stressing out if that means protecting my sanity next year.

let's give peace a chance!

if you're reading this, you are probably sitting in the comfort of your home, having just eaten a warm meal with your loved ones, might have just finished watching a movie, might even be well on your way to getting completely drunk to welcome the new year.

outside, there's probably fireworks and people screaming and cheering. somewhere near you people are dancing, having fun, forgetting that somewhere else in the world, there is complete darkness, save for the flash of bombs and missile fire.

it is so easy for us to forget, in our nests of warmth and comfort, that there are other people dying from disease, starvation, cold, heat, neglect, melancholy. have we forgotten them? just because we cannot see them, does not mean we cannot feel their sadness creeping up to us when we become still in the night.

have we forgotten to love our fellow man/woman/child? were we really put on this earth to hate one another and destroy our precious environment?

giving your old unwanted clothes during the Christmas season is not enough to keep the billions of homeless people in the world warm, and eating organic will not change the fact that many millions of other people will never even see a piece of your unwanted food that day. buying RED is not going to change the fact that america remains the most wasteful nation in the world, and corporate social responsibility still remains the exceptionality, when it should be the rule.

indeed, as RED reminds us, we have the POWER to make a difference. (by buying their product...?) but do we, as they want us to believe, have a choice?

surely not. otherwise, why would millions of children and elderly be dying of malnutrition all over the world? why else would the millions in Africa in dire need of AIDS medication require US consumers to buy additional amounts of Gap jeans they don't need, while giving them false cause to pat themselves on the back for their consumer-based philanthropy?

if we really wanted to make a difference, surely we would find the resources and energy and good will to do it? (after all, we are spending so much money on an admittedly useless war, one that is costing the lives of thousands of innocent civilians' and American soldiers' lives.

and as the RED ad reminds us, "we don't want them to die."

do we really believe that? if we were really so kind-hearted, would we allow this to happen? take a look at the things we are easily allowing ourselves to accept.



then tell me this does not make you sick:

and what are your expensive designer tees gonna do to change that?

---

as you sip your champagne tonight and then crawl into your warm bed, try to remember that all over the world there are countless untracked landmines, children who will never live to early adolescence because of disease and lack of food, young men and women (merely children themselves) in the military, generations of people who will never know a world of peace, who will be the victims of ceaseless, unnecessary war -- and for what?! because we can close our eyes, turn away, can slip into our material comforts and forsake the suffering of those we've never met. how easily we forget our brethren on the other side of the world. how easily we forget!

---

we can do better. now let's actually try.

to a better 2007. (may this be the beginning of the future...)
-stephanie


how you can help:
donate to UNICEF.
tell George to Save Darfur.
help The Global Fund directly, rather than buy from RED.

while you were reminiscing, the future was passing you by

goodbye 2006. hello, 2007!

reflecting on the past year, i can't say i've been horribly disappointed by or regretful of anything. i think i made the best out of most difficult situations, managed to laugh and cry enough to understand the significance of both, loved and lost enough to appreciate my family and friends more, and risked enough to say i lived.

i'm not spectacularly happy, but i'm not depressed any more either.

i'm another year older, and as my dad would say, that's enough cause for celebration.

but not just yet. there's much to be done, so much to change, so much to spend my idle moments thinking about.

i'm not one for resolutions, never saw much point in making false promises to myself. and i hope that i am constantly reflecting, constantly reforming, that i don't require some silly end-of-year ritual to remind me to self-improve. if something bothers me enough, i shld have the resolve to change it in that instant. "bah to inertia," that's what i say. i'm all about gaining momentous momentums until i'm travelling faster than time itself, until i've met the future and shaken its hand.

so let's have 2007 be the year for reVolutions! rather than expend my renewed energies devising self-involved methods for change, why not think at the global level? how am i going to change the world? what can i do to make the world we share a better place for everyone, and not just myself?

i'll get back to you on this. and you do the same. there is much to be mulled, much to be ruminated.
-stephan!e

i want a puppy! (but not that one...)

thank u to all the kind readers and friends who wished me such warm happy birthdays yesterday. my 21st was a blast, but do not worry and do not be alarmed: self-control and dignity were not lost (which is more than can be said for some ppl.) i merely ordered my first drink, a rum ri martini and sipped it modestly at dinner with my family. we ate cake and sang songs and i opened presents. (my family surprised me at the last minute with very kind and thoughtful presents, giving me a stack of DVDs i'd been pining for all year, including MEMENTO, HOUSE OF SAND AND FOG, EAT DRINK MAN WOMAN, and AMERICAN BEAUTY (my other favorite movie).

in all, it was one of the best birthdays i've ever had. thank you. :-)

---

speaking of gifts, i've always wanted a puppy and have asked for one for christmas ever since i was old enuf to know i had needs and wants for things (5 was the age i think). well, i didn't get a puppy this year (surprise surprise), but when i went to the new york times website (my homepage), i saw this:now, let's take a closer look, shall we?
hmm. the cute and (read:) iNBRED dog. (read more here.)

apparently, the NYT thot this worthy online frontpage material. makes me wonder if i shld revert to the BBC (whose editors, despite their ostensibly british readership still found Gerald Ford's death and efforts toward peace in Somalia of primary interest. funny, where did we go wrong?)

---

in other dog-related news, i've been enjoying this satirical view of the long-befuddling comic Marmaduke.



and i thot i was the only one spending my sunday mornings endlessly frustrated by the seemingly guileless and unamusing shenanigans of an overgrown terrorist canine, but apparently Joe Mathlete is providing some necessary and not-easily-divined answers. yay for satire and comic relief!

ruff woof,
stephan!e

it's a giant among cliches

"...sing me Happy Birthday
sing it like it's going to be your last day
like its hallelujah
don't just let it pass on through ya
it's a giant among cliches
and that's why I want you to sing it anyway..."

-andrew bird



"Oh happy birthday, happy birthday.
Little Lisa, today is your day.
Sing hallelujah, you know they blew ya'.
There are too many, candles in your cake.
But don't you worry, there's no hurry.
The Jehovas are standing by your door.
And they're offering, eternal suffering.
Eternal life, but you say no.
Turn on the radio, clean the windows.
Do it in slow-mo, as the day unfolds.
Oh how the sun shines inside you, just like I do.
These days are gold.
The nights are silver, they make you shiver.
Tomorrow the Jehovas will come by.
And they will ask you of and excuse.
Not to accept eternal life.

But I love you, yes I love you.
But I would never kiss your lips.
'Cause there's a friendship, a lovely kinship.
Here's a tulip to match your eyes.
Oh drinking cheap wine to bosanova.
You're a supernova in the sky.
The Jehovas, in their pull-overs.
Are no Casanovas, like you and I.
Oh happy birthday, happy birthday.
Happy birthday to you.
Oh happy birthday, happy birthday.
Happy birthday to you.
Happy birthday to you.
Oh happy birthday, little Lisa.
Happy birthday to you."

-jens lekman

cheers!

i'm 21 at last!

and i have the best parents ever. they stormed my room at one minute past, and drug me to the kitchen to have a celebratory glass of wine with them.

my favorite thing about my birthday: my dad says "congratulations" every time i turn one year older, like it's a huge achievement to have survived the last 365 days. which sometimes, it is.

and here is how it feels to be 21:

it feels GREAT.

cheers,
stephan!e

on the brink of my 21st birthday (or, how to interpret a myspace-esque self-portrait)

less than one hour until the apocalypse known as my 21st birthday, and i want to remember how i feel in this very moment (for i will never be on the brink of 21 again).

what i was obviously thinking in the fractioned second it took to take this picture:

the 21st year of my life shall mark the beginning of the era henceforth known as 'the emo years' (woe, indeed...)

the holy daze hath blanched my complexion...

feeling more self-conscious than usual about my facial proportions, i decided to crop half my visage from the picture, only to provide the Beatles poster as a frame of reference, to which one might remark, 'hark! what a prodigious forehead!' foiled again! blast!

i'm looking somewhat bloodshot and dry.

progressively creepy, and increasingly close.

this is your face on aderol.

i've replaced Paul in the resurrected Beatles. and i'm grateful (if not a little stunned) for the honour.

i'm just as shocked and crestfallen as you should be to learn that Sufjan is gay.

"i am the most great female hypnotist of the world!"


in summary: i am only slightly more indifferent than usual.


seesons greatings.
-stephan!e

sing me happy birthday

it's my birfday in 4 days. my 21st birfday.

i don't think i can bring myself to get out to a bar. i can't even make myself get dressed up to go out.

it's too depressing, since it's the day after christmas and all. i don't want to be sitting at the bar and buying drinks for all the sad souls without family or friends or better places to go who are just hanging out at a bar on the 26th. and i certainly don't want to be one of those people.

so give me a call. write me an email. or better yet, send me a letter and hide a gift inside for me.

wish me a happy birthday, won't you? (and kwanzaa and boxing day and new year while yr at it...) sing me cheers.

until then, i'm gonna pretend this was a special gift to me from my friend jens (and now my gift to you).

cheers,
stephanie

contentment.

...maniacal contentment.

i was so proud of myself for having gotten great gifts for all my loved ones while managing to spend as little time as possible in the mall, that i treated myself to the movies i knew no one was going to get me.

i am now the delighted owner of: CAPOTE, MEMENTO (my favorite movie), SE7EN, BEING JOHN MALKOVICH, and EAT DRINK MAN WOMAN.

yay for cinephilia.

consumerism- 1. stephanie's will power- 0.

c'est la vie.
-stephanie

oh the irony...

when i heard that first lady Laura Bush has skin cancer, my first impulse was to kinda laugh obnoxiously at what i perceived as a burning case of irony:

the wife of our unequaled president, George Bush --whose environmental policies have proven exceedingly and increasingly laughable and ignorant, delusional, noncomittal, ineffective, and damningly negligent-- is apparently suffering one of the symptoms indicative of the impending apocalypse: squamous cell carcinoma, the 2nd most common form of skin cancer.

the skin cancer is one of many manifest risks of depleting ozone, a direct result of our government's inability to acknowledge harmful and PREVENTABLE pollution as a cause of environmental problems, and its inability to prioritize environmental protection (rather than big oil).

you'd think this personal event would make the deteriorating ozone more salient to our boy George (especially since his recent trip to the doc to get 4 sun-induced lesions removed from his face).

but sadly, the administration's wind-up monkey marches on...

hey, at least we can enjoy 50+ degree weather in december...?
-stephanie


p.s. for fun, watch this (below). my favorite part comes at 3:05. "go home and die." wow.

Bush Speech (Edited)

my eyes are tired

i woke up the other day and couldn't see. my eyes were so blurry and tired that they refused to open. upset by the thought i might never see again, i lamented the loss of my film-going abilities, and started crying.

that was apparently just what my eyes needed. they cleared up soon after.

but my eyes have been worsening lately. either painfully dry or constantly tearing, light-sensitive and heavily weary, it's made looking at a glowing laptop screen increasingly difficult. i blame finals for exhausting my thresholds, and for exposing my retinas to inordinant amounts of radioactive laptop light.

anyway, in lieu of spending longer periods of time on my laptop than needed to write posts, i will be posting pictures. at least, until the tearing stops.

besides, some pictures just speak for themselves.

and i love a self-sufficient picture.

pray for my eyes,
stephanie

mew = me: wow=ew

words can't do some images justice.

so why try?
-stephanie

p.s. i'm trying to decide whether to switch to the new blogger beta. it makes formatting and layout much easier. i played around with it to reformat the avocado couch, with somewhat pleasing results. but i kinda enjoy fumbling around with html. i've been passably decent at it so far (i think). but is the new blogger worth it? help me decide...

EDIT (1.4.07): i updated to the new Blogger and it ended up screwing me over, including changing my profile. i'm too scared to upgrade the template, b/c i've worked forever on the html and don't want to lose it now. i'm updating labels now... hope it pays off somehow...

randoms

i began my new life today. my new life is boring.

but not to fear. yours will never have to be, with the knowledge that these are indeed real albums that were at one time or another made for wide consumption and distribution.

oh the horrors our species wreaks on itself...

merry shatmas,
stephanie

mission accomplished!

I'M DONE!!!!!!!!!!!

time to play and have fun again!
(and rest my computer-weary eyes... oy)

thumbs up and high five!
-stephanie