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James Douglas Morrison- (December 8, 1943 – July 3, 1971) was an American singer, poet, songwriter, writer, and film director. He is best known as the lead singer and lyricist of The Doors, and is widely considered to be one of the most charismatic and influential frontmen in rock music history.[1] He was also the author of several books of poetry,[1] and the director of a documentary and short film.

Today, was the 37th Anniversary of Jim Morrison’s death.

I first discovered The Doors when I was 16. I listened to their music nearly everyday for 10 years straight, read every book about Jim Morrison or The Doors that I could get my hands on, & read his poetry books. I saw The Doors tribute band "Wild Child" more times then I can count just to be able to experience the music live, and a little of what Jim Morrison was like, and had every video. I looooved them so much.

So, here is my tribute to Jim Morrison. I’m fairly pleased with this even though after I was finished, & I looked at the original, I realized that my shoulders shouldn’t have been straight and my hands aren’t perfect. Whatcha gonna do?!

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Not sure if this will be my picture for the day or not. For now this is it. I will probably go back and edit it again more to my liking.

Today, was just a regular day. I woke up and Jeremy had fed the puppy. I was happy and felt good. I thought it would be a good day. Within 10 minutes Betty had eaten her own ass, and vomited up a foam that smelled of anal glands on the bed, and as I am trying to clean up the foam, Annabelle pee’d all over the bed. Yay! So, the morning went from nice, to pure shit in no time.

I decided to ride my bike to the school down the street for my picture, and brought Shell with me. It was so hot, and I was all sweaty and miserable. I fake it good. After that we headed home, and I am trying to leave out the front door, and my dogs are trying to get out front, and I’m trying to squeeze through a crack, and caught my new shirt on a small nail and ripped a huge hole in it. Stupid dogs.

Tomorrow, I need to go get a few things. Like face wash, moisturizer, and a few new clothing items for my trip to North Carolina this Saturday. I also just realized that my Mom booked my flight at like 7:30 a.m. How am I supposed to drink vodka cranberries to ease my fear at 5:30 a.m.-6:30 a.m.? I guess it’s time to try those anxiety pills I got last year.

View On Black

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Ok, so to top off the fact that I feel fat and ugly…I go and get a haircut weeks ago. Remember? I think I’ve said before that I’m not an overly picky person. I can not like something, and just deal with it. To where it doesn’t bother me at all. Well my haircut right now, I absolutely despise! I feel so UGLY with this hair. The chick just royally fucked up my hair. Really fucked it up. I am 100% positive that I could have cut my hair better to where it somewhat looked like the picture, better then this chick. If I could take my head off my shoulders, I would cut my own hair, and it would look good. I’m confident it would. My hair resembled the picture like 0%.

Most days, I wash my hair, blow dry my bangs, and throw the rest of my short little hairs in the smallest most ridiculous ponytail ever. That is my new hairstyle. Thank you lady who cut my hair. You’ve done just the opposite of what the point of your job is. Rather then me feeling cute with my new haircut, you’ve made me feel uglier.

I don’t think you should have to spend $200 for a haircut for the stylist to know types of hair, and what types do what, and what kinda cuts you should do on those hair types. I would think that would be common knowledge, like knowing what the scissors do, and what hair colors do what. Call me crazy. I wouldn’t feel comfortable cutting hair if I didn’t know that.

It’s partially my fault though. I knew that razor cuts and my hair didn’t really work well together. However; I also never had such severe, ugly layers put in my hair with a razor either. I wasn’t asking for them either, so yeah, not my fault. Anyway, it’s going to be a long year, waiting for this hair to grow. I guess we can watch it with my 365 pictures.

What have I learned through all of this?

-Do not do an extremely different style until you’ve found someone who knows your hair, and cuts it good.
- Tell the hairdresser about your hair, what you know looks good, and what you know doesn’t work (ie: razor cuts).

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Here, I go again! I don’t know what I’m thinking except I’ve missed doing the 365 Day project. I really, really, really want to complete it though, and complete it good and make a book. Dammit!

Wish me luck!

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While my sister was here, we were talking about how different I was right after I announced I was getting a divorce. How it wasn’t even me really. I quit doing everything I liked to do (cooking, baking, crafts), and I was all about socializing and partying. I didn’t give a shit what people thought about me. I did random things, I pushed myself to experience things, I did stupid things, I did what I wanted, and what made me happy, and I was confident. I was on my very own trip, and everyone was invited that wanted to come.

It’s really weird actually.

I was just sitting here thinking about how uncomfortable I am being “me”…and how odd it is that there were 2 different Stephanie’s. I look back on those times, and think about that Stephanie. She’s like an old friend, you lost contact with. The friend that you kinda looked up too, and envied. There was something about her, that was alive, and exciting. Almost dangerous. I liked her. I want to be more like her.

I remember vividly the time that Chuck said to me during the divorce times…

“I HATE the new Stephanie!”

then I said:

“Funny! I was just thinking about how I LOVE the new Stephanie!”

The me now, is introverted, a homebody (who really wants to do lots of things, but is to uncomfortable with me.), shy, timid, worry wart, sad, mad/angry, limited.

It boggles my mind on why I don’t lose weight. How many times have I said that I am going to lose weight? So many. Countless. I really just do not get it?! It’s like I am punishing myself or something. I’m keeping myself in an area that I hate, that I feel so uncomfortable doing anything in public or around people. My weight and how I look is something I think about numerous times a day if not constantly on my mind. Just going out and getting the mail, I’m positive that the neighbors are looking out their window and thinking what a fat ass I am. That sounds ridiculous, I know…but I’m not exaggerating.

So, if this is something I think about all the live long day, something I HATE, something that bothers me more then anything else, then why in the hell do I say I’m going to lose weight and exercise, and eat right, and the next day I am eating like shit first thing in the morning? Exercise is a fleeting thought. Always ending in a reason why I can’t do it. (It’s too late in the day, I have to do it early. It’s too hot. I already ate like shit. I’ll do it later. Too late. HA!)

I try to remember what made me do it last time. Then I remember. It’s not something I give a shit about now. I remember noticing that no guys ever checked me out, specifically one. That bugged me. So, I decided to change that. I remember looking in the mirror and being so disgusted with myself. That was it. Soon, I was getting checked out. Now, however, I want to be checked out by just my boyfriend. I want him to think he has the hottest girlfriend around, and can’t keep his hands off of me. Not that he has ever said anything bad about how I look, but come on. I definitely don’t look like I did when we first met.

I want to get that fun and exciting Stephanie back, but still hold onto all the good things about me now. I want to feel good about myself. I’m 5′4″ and I weight like 173 lbs. With my height, and just how I gain weight, I look like shit with extra weight on. Even 20 lbs overweight looks bad on me…and I am 50lbs overweight! I just don’t know how or what in the world can make me get in that frame of mind to where I’ve had enough.

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If you follow my Flickr stream you already know, but we got a new puppy last Saturday, June 21, 2008.

Yes, we are completely fucking nuts, and are totally irresponsible. It was bound to happen at some point. Usually, we are able to come to our sense before we jump. However, this time the guys were letting everyone pick up the puppies. Touch them, and love on them. It was also hot as hell, like 107 degrees. So, I’m sure that lead to the temporary lapse in judgment also.

So, it has been 9 days. Which have flown by really fast. I think a lot of it was because my sister was down. She’s gained over 2 pounds, and I think she looks fuller. I took her to the vet last week, and he said she looked about 5 weeks, and not 3 weeks. So, I don’t know how old she is. LOL!

She has went from sleeping all day long, minus about 15 minutes a day, to sleeping in 2-4 hour increments, with boughts of being awake for 15 minutes- 1 hour.

Right now she is “nursing” on Betty. Betty’s boobies at the bottom seem to look big, like real boobs! I don’t know if she is lactating or what? Annabelle keeps going for the same nipple, and it’s all pink/red and sore looking. Yet, Betty just lays there like a new Mama…letting the baby suck away.

Annabelle pees more then anything I have ever seen in all my life. More pee then you would think could come out of her little body. It’s crazy. It’s getting kind of annoying too. today, I need to sanitize my floor, because she has pee’d and pooped everywhere. Oh there she went to piss some more on the carpet right now.. Mmmm. Great!

She’s pee’d on my bed twice. The last time was this morning. Jeremy just washed the bedding yesterday. Great. I have those god awful pee pads all over my house.

She is drinking formula, that costs $20 a can for. She uses one of those every 4 days. Got her some wet food, and dry food to soak in water. she seems to like those both also.

Last night, I made her this little bed out of those plastic shoe boxes that you organize with. I put her blankie in there, along with a wee wee pad…just in case she pee’d on the way to get the kids. I thought the box would be more sturdy, and less movement for her. She threw up all over my shirt and the side of my jeans. I didn’t realize until it felt really warm in those spots and it smelled of formula really strongly. It was formula mixed with wet food. Mmmm. It didn’t really phase me. I looked in the box, and apparently it saved me. There was about a cup of vomit in the box. I just got a little bit of it on me.

It’s sorta like having a baby, except this baby pisses and shits all over your floor. I thought I was getting when she had to pee. Like whenever she woke up, she was going to pee. Now, she does this huge pee where ever, but if I’m lucky it will be half on the wee wee pad, and half off. Half the clean up! Yay! Then does these little pee’s all over the place. It’s driving me nuts!

She’s really cute though!!! HaHa!

I also am not loving the fact that I have to time every single thing around when she sleeps, and eats. Oh, she is going to want to eat in 1 1/2 hours, we gotta wait! Even for bed!

The past 2 nights, I have kept the door to the crate off, so she can pee on the pee pad outside the crate…rather then in her bed. Yesterday, she woke up, and pee’d on the carpet by the pee pad. Then cried, until I woke up and got her. This morning, I wake up, and I don’t see her anywhere. I am freaking out trying find her in my half sleeping stupor. I looking under the kids beds, behind doors, She’s nowhere. There was a comforter on the couch from when my sister stayed. The dogs have pushed it practically all on the floor. I’m calling Annabelle’s name. Betty come running out of the bedroom, and starts sniffing. Sure enough, 30 seconds later she has sniffed her out in the comforter completely covered.

As cute as puppies are, they sure are a lot of work. More work then I want to do. I think this is going to be the last puppy I ever get though. At least this young. When we got Betty, she was already 3 months old, and while a puppy…she ate regular food, went potty outside, and was just a lot easier!

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I think I’ve uttered one “I really miss taking self portraits!” Since I abruptly gave up in April on Day 297. Today, would have been my very last day of the project. My last self portrait to finish out my 366th day. What a quitter I am! I really wish I would have stuck it out or quit sooner.

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Last Wednesday, I got the bright idea that I would cut my hair all off and go short. So, I made an appointment and got in on Thursday. I was so excited for a change…and a cute new hairstyle. I somehow forgot that I am fat, and when I am fat I do not look good with short hair. It makes my face look fatter, and me uglier.

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Quite sometime ago Jeremy put me on his bank account. I would say that it was because of my urging that we share money. Even though we did share money in a non-traditional way. He paid for rent and utilities, and I paid for food, cable, my internet and my cell phone bill. I never, ever used the ATM card I got from his account. As a matter of fact I never even activated it. So, I had to get another one. Which I have used a total of 3 times in the last week. I hate using it. I hate spending “his” money…and do so when I absolutely have too. Every. Single. Time. I do use it, he says not in a mean, rude way, but still says how he doesn’t have any money. So, then I feel like an idiot. When people make me feel like an idiot, it seriously fucking pisses me off! I have a Paypal debit card, which is linked to my checking account…and when work was slow for him, and he really didn’t have money, he just used that on whatever he needed money for. I never gave him shit when I saw that I all my money from doing Pay Per Post was gone. The money I had in there from selling a laptop bag, so I could put towards a more expensive laptop bag, was completely gone. Nope, not one word.

Yesterday, I noticed that I had 3 charges to my bank account that I did not make. One for $45.00 to some company that helps websites get more traffic or something, and 2 from the same place for $9, and $7. So, they deactivated my card. On Friday afternoon I promised the kids to take them to McDonald’s for breakfast this morning, and used Jeremy’s card, and also put $20 worth of gas (4 gallons) in my Bug. Then I realized I could use my Paypal until I get a new card.

I get home, and he calls me. I’m in a good mood, and then I always say in a joking fashion how I spent some of his money. I think it’s to take the comfortablenesses away or something when I let him know I spent money. Then he starts going into his thing on how he doesn’t have money. Then I’m pissed off and start yelling at him. Mind you he was totally serious, but when I call him out on it…it turns into he was just joking. Why can’t I take a joke? I’m just like Sheldyn and can’t take a joke, and he will never joke with me again.

He knows I feel uncomfortable using his money, and yet he says shit to me every time. So why the fuck would you joke about it to me, when you already know how I feel? See for me if I knew you felt uncomfortable doing something, I would go out of my way to make you feel like it was okay. I wouldn’t even be my sarcastic self about it. I mean why doesn’t he make fun of me and joke about me being a fat cow…cuz it’s just a joke?

That is why I never gave him shit about spending my “savings”, because I didn’t want him to feel like an idiot or bad. So, I just shut the fuck up.

So, now I am completely pissed off at him. Plus, I know he wasn’t joking. He does this all the time too. He says something that then pisses me off, and then all of a sudden he was “joking”. Oh you’re pissed? It was a joke! HaHa!

This shit takes me back to sharing money, and what a fucking piece of shit situation it was for me. I hated spending money, and always felt this tremendous guilt if I ever bought anything. Going grocery shopping was always filled with terror, that I would spend to much and get something frivolous we didn’t need, or buy something just because I wanted it. I would get shit, if I ever bought anything for myself. There is no way in hell I will ever be in that situation again, ever! So, I think I will keep my separate checking account forever. Then if I want something, I know if I can buy it or not, and there is no guilt.

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Did anyone watch the Oprah show on Puppy Mills? It was on awhile back, and then there was another on sort of like an update or something yesterday possibly?

Well, I  recorded the origin show. I usually record Oprah, and delete the ones I don’t care about. So, I’ve had the puppy mill show on there for quite some time. I’d be looking for something to watch, and I’d go through the Oprah shows, and pass over that particular show. I wanted to watch it, but when I thought about it I got a knot in my stomach.

It recorded again yesterday or something, and it was at the top. There was nothing else on, so I pressed play. I started out covering my eyes. I watched a lot of the first 10 minutes like that. Then when I watched there was a lot of groaning, and me saying things like “I fucking hate people!”.

Then there was the happy parts where the man who rescues these dogs, takes them to the rescue, they get medical care, and groomed and adopted. Yay!

THEN! The show takes you to Fort Worth, TX. to a shelter. The guy there shows you the process of how they Euthenise the dogs. From the process of picking out the dog, they show the dog, he marks his card with a red “E”, and if that dog isn’t adopted that day…the next morning they are put to sleep, they show that mornings process “Let’s start with cage 1″, you see them going to get the dog. Then they show you them putting a dog down…I think…my face were covered with my hands as I sobbed.

I cried hard, and it was the saddest thing ever. I really can’t understand how people can do that. I understand that there are a lot of dogs out there, and what is the shelter going to do with the dog?

Yet, still it is so sad. It’s heart wrenchingly sad for me to watch dogs or animals in general to be mistreated. To me mistreated is leaving your dog in your backyard it’s whole life like it’s a plant or something, even if it’s had a dog house. Obviously mistreatment of dogs gets far, far worse then that…but I still feel really bad for those dogs left in yards or chains.

Before we got Betty, we went to a couple animal shelters in the Valley to look at the dogs and give them love. It seemed like at least 1/4 of the shelters was Pit Bulls. Same on Oprah. Every shelter they showed, had at least 2 Pit Bulls in the line of runs they went down. We spent time with all the Pit Bulls there, because you know the chances of them being adopted by a nice loving family is slim to none. Especially the really big guys who look a little intimidating, even though they are just a much love bugs as the chihuahua down the way.

I never really know what my passions are, or what I want to do with my life. I’m 32, shouldn’t I know this? Anyway, I do know that animals are a huge passion for me. They always have been. I like animals better then people. Dogs are my favorite though. I feel like I have a connection with them.

I’ve wanted to volunteer at a shelter and walk the dogs, and give them love. I just can’t bring myself to do it though. It’s emotionally draining going to the pound for me. It bums me out, and makes me sad. I get choked up as I leave, and feel like a jerk that I can’t bring them all home with me and give them love, and a warm comfy house to sleep in.

I think I could volunteer at a rescue at least they aren’t being squirted with a hose as their run gets cleaned out of the poop and urine. A place where the dogs are treated with kindness and love. So, even though they don’t have a home or a family they aren’t being mistreated.

So, I’m going to find a pit bull rescue that Jeremy and I can go volunteer at on the weekends.

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