yesterday was a rough one.

tuesday the 21st: NOT A GOOD LOOK. 

i had a supremely hard time finding the peace yesterday. well...ha forget that. forget peace. i couldn't even find a tenuous and paltry cease-fire. 

however i made no attempts to swallow it and reached out to every friend i have. i was surprised by the surge of love and tenderness. although, i must express that none of it really made me feel that much better at the time. actually i found the magnitude of solace directly relational to an increase in tears. i mean...they were sort of the good kind of tears. 

but not really. 

it was just one of those days. 

but today is new and waking up to the flowers and the plants and the cards...i'm much, MUCH better today. it created a wave of smile. WOOSH.

(if not demonstrated by this photo, it was surely revealed by the T.O.K. lyric quoting battle i had with the infamous Josh Stone when i woke up.)

thank you boo boos.

post script: 'the good kind' is a good name for anything. 

post post script: thanks be to dan, stephen, and josh for being extra special. 

singing and getting it out

after a lot of time of thinking about it and living with it, i've decided that there is no release for me like singing.

i can't sing.

but when i do sing, when the music is loud enough and i can't necessarily hear myself missing the notes anymore and only feel that i know at the very least the veins in my neck, in my forehead, all over are straining as hard as any singer that's come across the sky yet, i know that i've let go somewhere. that something inside is looser, softer, valued. i feel better after a hard time, or even greater after a great time, or at the very least justified and evacuated. i can sing tears or laughter, or pain and desolation and feel no less affected but maybe a little less afflicted.

i can't sing well.

many times i listen to lone ladies on the stage or through my speakers and hear the justice and command they hold in a note and it physically hurts me. it seems like a flaw in the design of the body that not everyone has a mastery over every release the body could need. everyone can sneeze, everyone can scream, everyone can cry, vomit, sweat. singing to me, and singing well is becoming this necessary. there are things in there that only long notes in loud voice can exorcise.

there's something in my chest that feels related to a beast. hulking and disguised mass, growing and feeding on thoughts and confusions, upsets or unshared joys and incomplete short stories. it's towering and i'm finding it so difficult, so difficult! to find satisfying ways to keep the relationship peaceful. to understand and soothe.

i can't sing very well.

singing helps. i feel literally as if i'm singing something to sleep. or the notes are calisthenics, tiring out the energy, using it, filtering it out through a hole in my head. because it's then that i can sleep.

i can't sleep very well either.

something ought to give.

last night

i was singing this



'singing'

i was also wearing a formal bicycle short.

i was also quoting sandra rose.

sidenote: dr dre, snoop, how long can you possibly intro for!?!? just shut up already and let her have some time.

this morning

i was watching 'crossroads' on youtube and realized i've NEVER been able to tell anyone which bone was which.

'wiki that.'



he sort of looks like he will cut off your arm and eat it while you watch. am i right?





so i wiki'd and found out there was a fifth one. i mean, i know his face but i always just thought he was some guy the rest of them put on.


but no. apparently he has a rap name and everything. 'wish bone'. google image search confirmed my supposition that that was primarily a salad dressing.

i think mostly the reason he didn't stick was because he was not absurdly, unbelievably attractive like the rest of them.

anyways what's with the braids/pig tail derivatives? at one point they were all bouncing around on screen, with their braids and i blurred my eyes a little bit and it just looked like a bunch of little girls (except of course for 'layzie bone' and 'bizzy bone' who were keeping it very loose with their afros. so hot guys, so hot. and im also a little jealous.) were singing to me about death and how life is such a fleeting, cruel layover.

not as cool as it sounds.

my blog's email?

apparently is stephanieporto.sistersquirell@blogger.com? i don't really even know what a blog email is. do i use it? does my blog use it? does it have a good spam filter?

all that aside, i wonder if i picked that a long time ago. because my nickname (via amelia) is sister squirell. but i don't remember at all choosing anything of the sort. so that leads me to believe that was just a 'random' generation by the intelife.

also i don't think i would instinctually go for that address.*

yet another example of the internet being a sentient (read: creepy) being, infiltrating my life, throwing out little threats here and there that it knows you...it knows everything about you.

ACK.


*for how all-knowing this web is, the spell check on this blog is downright stupid. it doesn't recognize half the words i type and then it makes me feel crazy. (all part of the plan) it doesn't recognize DOESN'T. and then i sit here looking at it, squinting, thinking 'wait WAIT. am i maybe not putting the apostrophe in the right spot??? no...no that's right...wait maybe it isn't...' and so it goes for about 2 minutes. 2 minutes of crazy and then i google it and then of course that goes on to my compilation of things i google and that takes the interest factor of the list down to somewhere around negative 74.

i think andy kaufman was reincarnated as the internet.

anyone?

i know that rhianna is going through some tough times right now, but i hope she doesn't go michael jackson crazy. if she isn't, she needs to fire her hair person tonight. and probably her makeup person too, because i think they might be a racist. or blind. 

she's set to perform may 28th in the u.a.e. (which in itself is strange). we'll see if she stomps around the stage in a robot dom costume again.

here's me in high school

(top middle) there's no denying i'd have 5 divorces under my belt if i thought that marriage was a good idea at all. i'm practically punching you in the face with ennui. 

read what i'm talking about here. 

well my life is just over.

ouroboros is taken! what will i name my new blog?

i just cant have kids

I just can't. I'm at the San Antonio airport lounge, waiting to fly back home. There's a person with a baby a few seats away from me. Its screaming like its being murdered. And not just murdered, but robbed and humilated all over the internet beforehand too. Its been about 7 minutes now. People are starting to look. And I just don't think I could deal with that.

I just said on twitter that I can't connect with people who bring pillows or blankets with them while traveling. Imagine having a baby? Better yet, imagine ME with a baby?? I can't even bear to carry a coat. My arms have to be free. This is clearly nonsense. But on the less tenuous tip: I just couldn't handle not being able to 1) hush the baby, 2) speak at length as to why they're feeling so emotional, and 3) ignore the fact that people's lives were being ruined by my super unhappy baby.

Ah, me.

I spent the weekend with my sister. We were cooking on saturday night and she was telling me about going to see her friend Amy earlier that week. She had just had a baby and my sister visited her in the hospital. She got a chance to hold the baby and told me that when she did the urge to keep it forever was almost overwhelming. I still can't believe it. I guess I look at my sister as an extension of myself, or rather myself as an extension of her and so there are certain qualities I would think that were the same. The lack of desire for babies would be one. I guess not. Maybe though the same thing will happen to me.

why i gotta fly so early?

Flying to texas today! Thanks jimbo! Happy good friday. Seeewww I'm in chicago right now and I can't even BELIEVE these accents. Its unreal. Its like they got rocks in their mouths. The guy at hudson news? Forget it. I still don't know what he was saying. Person I bought coffee from? Nope. Incomprehensible. I almost can't control my laughter. Its a lingual epidemic!

The flight from ny was uneventful aside from being awoken about a dozen times by the bellowing tones issuing from the giant man seated behind me. He was a consultant/pharmacist and apparently he had an edge in the business and certainly had no reservations about explaining that fact. He was actually adorable and I was enjoying his stories...or what I caught of them. But the voice was just a little too booming for 7am.

And being woken up by that voice was nothing compared to my final alarm: the delightfully aromatic scent of peanut m&ms wafting from my neighbors purse/mouth. I wanted to die. I was about 2 inches away from snatching them from her and throwing them as far as I could. I think in my sleep stupor I actually thought 'see THIS is what's wrong with airplanes: you can't roll down the window.'

Crazy talk.

Real talk.

See you in 4 days.

great thanks.

does someone think that i need this right now?

last night

i apparently got a bit more wasted than i thought* and ended up in my bed watching quantum leap.

what the...?


*is there ever an instant when you're fully aware of exactly where you stand on the intoxication scale? i think it's patently impossible actually.

gloria, gloria

today i went to baruch college to hear gloria steinem speak. i would link her but she does't have a website. clearly she takes hating being boxed in to the next level.

this woman is 75 years old. i can't believe that. it's not just her looks but MY GOD. the level of comfort and familiarity with change, revision, transformation that i felt coming off the stage...i guess it can only come from someone with a lifetime of experience igniting that progress.

i hope to express though how impressed i was with her still very alive thirst for discussion and democracy. she wasn't fixed at all. i think that evolution is the secret to eternal life.


p.s. she's my halloween costume.

p.p.s. and by halloween, i mean life.

april fools

i got an email from my ex this morning stating some nonsense that i'm all too familiar with. it's amazing how many different ways you can write the same thing.

of course i wasn't going to respond to him. then i saw THIS.

i was SO EXCITED to see what CADIE would come up with as an answer.


oh but it's a joke. oh, google. you jokesters.



go fuck yourselves.