When my heart finds Christmas...

In my eyes are valentines
and easter eggs and New Year's wine,
but when my heart finds Christmas
my eyes will shine like new.

All the days are kind to me
but fall too far behind to see,
but when my heart finds Christmas
I hope it finds you too.

Let the angels sing around us,
Christmas time is here.
Let the children's love surround us,
laughing and filled with cheer.

My heart told me once before
to find my dream and search no more.
And when my heart finds Christmas,
I hope it finds you too.

Pardon the entry, but I love Billy...

This is for all of you English majors and for the lovers of literature found devouring book after book this Christmas break. You know you all do this, or have (at least) stumbled upon it.

"Marginalia" by Billy Collins

Sometimes the notes are ferocious,
skirmishes against the author
raging along the borders of every page
in tiny black script.
If I could just get my hands on you,
Kierkegaard, or Conor Cruise O'Brien,
they seem to say,
I would bolt the door and beat some logic into your head.

Other comments are more offhand, dismissive -
"Nonsense." "Please!" "HA!!" -
that kind of thing.
I remember once looking up from my reading,
my thumb as a bookmark,
trying to imagine what the person must look like
who wrote "Don't be a ninny"
alongside a paragraph in The Life of Emily Dickinson.

Students are more modest
needing to leave only their splayed footprints
along the shore of the page.
One scrawls "Metaphor" next to a stanza of Eliot's.
Another notes the presence of "Irony"
fifty times outside the paragraphs of A Modest Proposal.

Or they are fans who cheer from the empty bleachers,
Hands cupped around their mouths.
"Absolutely," they shout
to Duns Scotus and James Baldwin.
"Yes." "Bull's-eye." "My man!"
Check marks, asterisks, and exclamation points
rain down along the sidelines.

And if you have managed to graduate from college
without ever having written "Man vs. Nature"
in a margin, perhaps now
is the time to take one step forward.

We have all seized the white perimeter as our own
and reached for a pen if only to show
we did not just laze in an armchair turning pages;
we pressed a thought into the wayside,
planted an impression along the verge.

Even Irish monks in their cold scriptoria
jotted along the borders of the Gospels
brief asides about the pains of copying,
a bird signing near their window,
or the sunlight that illuminated their page-
anonymous men catching a ride into the future
on a vessel more lasting than themselves.

And you have not read Joshua Reynolds,
they say, until you have read him
enwreathed with Blake's furious scribbling.

Yet the one I think of most often,
the one that dangles from me like a locket,
was written in the copy of Catcher in the Rye
I borrowed from the local library
one slow, hot summer.
I was just beginning high school then,
reading books on a davenport in my parents' living room,
and I cannot tell you
how vastly my loneliness was deepened,
how poignant and amplified the world before me seemed,
when I found on one page

A few greasy looking smears
and next to them, written in soft pencil-
by a beautiful girl, I could tell,
whom I would never meet-
"Pardon the egg salad stains, but I'm in love."

Now all I need is a really great slogan...

in order to complete my plan for global domination, that is.

Well, not really, but I ran across this Advertising Slogan Generator, and I was like...hey, I think it's always good to be prepared in case I ever have to become marketable. I can stow these ideas in the far recesses of my mind and slap them on a t-shirt somewhere down the line, if need be. I am hoping the need will never be, cause they kind of suck and I would never put them on anything. They are entertaining, however. I know some of them made me laugh...so here you go.


Got a Melia? You're in Luck.
The Melia Effect.
Smart. Beautiful. Melia.
Super Melia is Almost Here.
Melia Stays Sharp 'til The Bottom of the Glass.
Tense, Nervous, Melia?
There Ain't No Party Like A Melia Party.
I'd Walk a Mile for a Melia.
Any Time, Any Place, Melia.
When You've Got Melia, Flaunt It.

Go find your own slogans: http://www.thesurrealist.co.uk/slogan.cgi?word=mexcellent

To the people that come up with new ideas for talk shows...

Giving Tyra Banks her own show...seriously?!

Flipping through channels last night I witnessed her looking into the camera, zoomed in on a face filled with the highest capacity of plastic genuiness, as she was saying: "In a minute we'll be back with Jennifer, the bully that set Rachel's hair on FIRE!"

And she kept using that same phrase in different ways:
"Your daughter set this girl's HAIR on fire!"
"Did you think it was okay to set her hair on fire?!"
"It is not normal to set someone's HAIR on FIRE!"

Oh, Tyra...you make me laugh. I would like to see your weave on FIRE!

For the love of god, are you freakin' kidding me?! I would rather watch Laguna Beach, and that's saying something.

I haven't forgotten about you...

I am simply guilty of neglect.

I don't even really know where to begin, it's been so long since I have posted anything.

I could recap entire weekends spent out of town, or give minute details that would be of no interest to anyone save myself, so I will just write about the highlights.

1. I took my last final ever last Wednesday. Dr. Thompson handed me the Compostion and Rhetoric final and said, "Is this your last final?" To which I replied, "Yes." And she said, "Well, it's been a long road." To which I just uttered, "Indeed." I finished my final, walked out the door, and realized that that class was most likely the last class I will ever sit in. I am not going to lie, there was a momentary panic, especially since I have been in school, with nothing longer than a three month break, for over eighteen years. I am scared, because I am the kind of person that must have structure, but I am also excited, because I can now focus all of my energy towards my thesis and MA Exams.

2. I went to Austin and saw Maria Bamford with Ashley, Shannon, and Toby. I will post photos from that excursion at a later date. I have them, I just too lazy to deal with Flickr right now. After seeing Maria, who is quite possibly the funniest person ever, these events occured in what I can only deem pretty close to this order: hookah bar, a girl named Tiffin with at least eight piercings on her face alone, an apple pie and the offer of whiskey to go with it, the purchase of Heineken but not the drinking of it, a 15 minute nap on Tiffin's (who I met a few hours previous) bed, acting as human dictionary for Tiffin's boyfriend who worked at the said hookah bar, not sleeping, waking Ashley and Toby up at 7:30am from the coffee shop next door where Shannon and I had been since 3:30am talking, delirium, a quesadilla, eight cups of coffee, a waiter Shannon referred to as Brad the entire time we were at the coffee shop...even when we learned that his name was actually John...or something. A long car ride back with good conversation, a skilled and well-rested driver, and not enough Diet Coke.

3. Girls Weekend Volumes 3 and 4 took place in the Metroplex. Pretty much the same madness--Katy, Ashley, and me. Vol. 3 featured the return of Mikey the Minister, which continually astounds me. To recap, we met him during Girls Weekend Vol. 2 at a bar called The Library. Then, a month later, we go to a different bar that none of us had ever been to, went to a random room at this bar, and there...leaning against the wall...was Mikey. I saw him, did a double take, and said, "MIKEY!!!" He remembered us and we spent the rest of the evening hanging out with him (and a few other guys we still believe to be terrorists in training) on the dance floor. For more interesting photos from that weekend, see http://rockwithrobotron.blogspot.com. Ashley's got the goods when it comes to the photographic gems from that weekend. The guy (you can only see his back in the photo) that I am dancing with was nice...but he was the victim of Melia's first giving of a fake phone number. I felt horrible afterwards... because I lied, not because I ever wanted to see him again. Vol. 4 was this past weekend and we mostly just shopped for Ashley's new apartment. It was a lot of fun, but it flew by too quickly. We did manage to make our way to David's Bridal to pick up my dress for Emily's wedding, which is this weekend. I can't believe it.

I can't think of anything else to write about right now. I am in the middle of this incredible memoir, and I would really like to finish it tonight. Do yourself a favor, and if you like memoirs, pick up anything by Mary Karr. You will never turn back.

To all my friends wrapping up their finals, good luck. For all of you that are sick, start feeling better soon. And for anyone looking to hear some good music, come out to The Zone this Friday and Saturday; Core 47 is playing and it's going to be an awesome show.

I have never been much of a breakfast person...

but recently I have been craving oatmeal like crazy. We're talking breakfast...dinner. Really, just about any time. Give me the funny looking Quaker guy, some milk, a two packets of Splenda and I am a happy camper.

Today, as I was laying in bed eating a bowl of oatmeal I started thinking about a poetry reading I went to a few years ago. I was lucky enough to not only hear Galway Kinnell read his poetry, but I got to meet him after the reading. It was incredible, as he is (in the literary world) extremely distinguished and I enjoy his poetry quite a bit. After reading several well-known poems that he selected, he read one I had never heard entitled: "Oatmeal". I immediately fell in love with this selection because it made me laugh and the imagery is fantastic. I thought I would share it with you.

I eat oatmeal for breakfast.
I make it on the hot plate and put skimmed milk on it.
I eat it alone.
I am aware it is not good to eat oatmeal alone.
Its consistency is such that is better for your mental health
if somebody eats it with you.
That is why I often think up an imaginary companion to have
breakfast with.
Possibly it is even worse to eat oatmeal with an imaginary
companion. Nevertheless, yesterday morning, I ate my oatmeal porridge,
as he called it, with John Keats.
Keats said I was absolutely right to invite him:
due to its glutinous texture, gluey lumpishness, hint of slime,
and unusual willingness to disintegrate, oatmeal should
not be eaten alone.
He said that in his opinion, however, it is perfectly okay to eat
it with an imaginary companion, and that he himself had
enjoyed memorable porridges with Edmund Spenser and John
Milton.
Even if eating oatmeal with an imaginary companion is not as
wholesome as Keats claims, still, you can learn something
from it.
Yesterday morning, for instance, Keats told me about writing the
"Ode to a Nightingale."
He had a heck of a time finishing it; those were his words "Oi 'ad
a 'eck of a toime," he said, more or less, speaking through
his porridge.
He wrote it quickly, on scraps of paper, which he then stuck in his
pocket,
but when he got home he couldn't figure out the order of the stanzas,
and he and a friend spread the papers on a table, and they
made some sense of them, but he isn't sure to this day if
they got it right.
An entire stanza may have slipped into the lining of his jacket
through a hole in his pocket.
He still wonders about the occasional sense of drift between stanzas,
and the way here and there a line will go into the
configuration of a Moslem at prayer, then raise itself up
and peer about, and then lay itself down slightly off the mark,
causing the poem to move forward with a reckless, shining wobble.
He said someone told him that later in life Wordsworth heard about
the scraps of paper on the table, and tried shuffling some
stanzas of his own, but only made matters worse.
I would not have known any of this but for my reluctance to eat oatmeal
alone.
When breakfast was over, John recited "To Autumn."
He recited it slowly, with much feeling, and he articulated the words
lovingly, and his odd accent sounded sweet.
He didn't offer the story of writing "To Autumn," I doubt if there
is much of one.
But he did say the sight of a just-harvested oat field go thim started
on it, and two of the lines, "For Summer has o'er-brimmed their
clammy cells" and "Thou watchest the last oozings hours by hours,"
came to him while eating oatmeal alone.
I can see him drawing a spoon through the stuff, gazing into the glimmering
furrows, muttering.
Maybe there is no sublime; only the shining of the amnion's tatters.
For supper tonight I am going to have a baked potato left over from lunch.
I am aware that a leftover baked potato is damp, slippery, and simultaneously
gummy and crumbly, and therefore I'm going to invite Patrick Kavanagh
to join me.

An Open Letter to Sylvia...

I sit here and read your words,
strewn across these crisp white pages
and I think about how you used them for kindling.

Your shy-awkward smile makes me wonder what thoughts circled
in your head as the photographer pressed, index finger down,
stealing your soul, trapping you in a moment I can buy.

The last pages filled with raw potential,
a life of boundless talent, a beautiful mind,
but sorrow that flowed through veins like Formaldehyde.

The weight it must take to force one’s heart to move,
cutting all ties, breathing in death’s fumes,
the cries of children fading away as eyelids closed.

And as I think of brilliance slighted, works of art
unfinished and burned, I suddenly catch a glimpse of you.
It was life, and the brain’s chaotic swirl. The panic, the heaviness. Life.

In conferring with a girl at work...

she asked, sarcastically, "Melia, have you always been a smart ass?"

I wasn't sure how to respond without being a smart ass, so I told her I would do some research and get back to her.

This research led me to lengthy conversations with close friends, painful and self-searching dinners with ex-boyfriends, and a few long and draining therapy sessions, but all in all...it really just comes down to this photograph.



I was five and a half in this photo, and I can only assume that the smart ass-yness began long before this was even taken. This is the same look I give to said co-worker multiple times every day.

I think it may be contagious as well, because you see the cute strawberry blonde kid in the oversized coat? That's my little brother Miles, and now he has joined the ranks. You can check out his thoughts on life at:
http://becauseimawesome.blogspot.com
And let me tell you now, he is awesome.

Nightminds...

Just lay it all down.
Put your face into my neck and let it fall out.
I know...
I know...
I know...

Johnny Panic comes to town...

So, I thought I better post something so Tee Cake will stop bothering me. Sheesh.

Let's see...there's really nothing of any importance to note.

I am looking for a job in the Metroplex, and I am excited about several potential leads at different companies that I am interested in. I do not know when I want to move though, so I have a few things to figure out. I can't approach this all "willy-nilly"...or whatever.

I think I have OD'd on Sylvia Plath. I read a short story called "Johnny Panic and the Bible of Dreams" yesterday, and in talking to my mother about it I was like, "I wish I could get into her mind just for a second...just to see what the hell she is even talking about." My mom was like, "Well...as long as you don't stick your head in an oven." Oh, Debs...you are so funny! Anyway, in going back over it I have decided that...maybe, to really understand where she is coming from, you have to get to that breaking point. Right now, I am not willing to ride that mental roller coaster with Syl, so I am going to try to approach the story from the angle that will work best for my thesis...wrangle up whatever I can from what I am working with...and move on. Dwelling on her work is detrimental to the soul. That's what I have discovered this week.

Have I mentioned that I want out of school and out of Abilene in a bad way? Well, I do.

At this point, I think I would even take a Greyhound bus ticket. Now, that's desperate people!

This week brings quite a bit of school work. I need to finish two presentations and two papers. However, I am rewarding myself with a trip to Ft. Worth at the end of the week. Emily has a wedding shower and, of course, Katy needs a visit from Ashley and me.

Focusing on light at the end of the tunnel...
and I'm out.

Where the flame turns blue...

I went looking for someone I left behind.
Yeah, but no-one, just a stranger did I find.
I never noticed, hadn't seen it as it grew,
the void between us where the flame turns blue.

Different places, well they all look much the same.
Dreams of faces in the streets devoured by names.
I'm in collision with every stone I ever threw.
And blind ambition where the flame turns blue.

Words dismantled, hey and all the books unbound.
Conversations, though we utter not a sound.
I heard a rumor, I don't know if it's true,
that you'd meet me when the flame turns blue.

So I venture underneath the leaden sky.
See the freight train with its one fierce eye.
And then I listen as it tears the night in two
with a whistle and the flame turns blue.

In the morning I will sing.
In the morning I will sing.

Through the lemon trees the diamonds of light
break in splinters on the pages where I write
that if I lost you, I don't know what I'd do,
burn forever where the flame turns blue.

Yeah if I lost you, I don't know what I'd do...
burn forever where the flame turns blue.

In the morning I will sing.
In the morning I will sing.
In the morning I will sing.
In the morning I will sing.

And if I listen to the sound of white...

sometimes I hear your smile, and breathe your light.
Yeah, if I listen to the sound of white....
You're my mystery.

Hello friends. Man, it's been a while and I'm sorry. I don't really know where the time has gone...but then again, I can't recall what I had for dinner, so there you go. I think it's more of a memory problem than me being so busy that the time has just flown by.

Well, slowly but surely I am working on my thesis. It's overwhelming at times. Right now...I equate it with...hmm...okay, say you really want green beans for dinner, and in this analogy you live on a farm that happens to grow green beans. Well, first you have to gather the green beans. Then you must break off the tips and discard them. Then you have to break them into smaller pieces. Then you must wash them. Then you have to cook them. All of this work when the idea, "I could really go for some green beans", seemed so simple. You have to go through all of that just to set down to a plate of green beans. Well, that's how I feel about this "project". I mean, I know what I want. I have said, "You know, I could really go for having my finished thesis sitting on my desk ready to turn in", but unfortunately, that simple idea is a multi-step process. Right now I am in the gathering/discarding stage of the process. Research. Gathering every piece of "evidence" I can to back my original idea, and throwing away the crappy stuff...isn't that a scientific term? Crappy stuff. I have written a little bit, but it's so hard to take an idea and make it tangible. I know what I want to accomplish, but I have no idea how to get there. Make sense?

Tonight I got to see my brother Miles, Peets, Carrie, and Ashley play at an open mic night. By the end of the night they talked me into playing and singing as well, and this party was sans alcohol...crazy, I know. I don't know what got into me. All in all, it was a fun...albeit at times mundane..."party". It was on HSU campus. That should tell you all you need to know.

Alright, it's time for me to...do something. I will probably watch Nick-at-Nite and fall asleep with my glasses on. Afterall, that is what I do.

Deuces.

I am really into extracurricular activities...

Want to join?

Rainer Maria Rilke...

"For it is not inertia alone that is responsible for human relationships repeating themselves from case to case, indescribably monotonous and unrenewed: it is shyness before any sort of new, unforeseeable experience with which one does not think oneself able to cope. But only someone who is ready for everything, who excludes nothing, not even the most enigmatical, will live the relation to another as something alive and will himself draw exhaustively from his own existence. For if we think of this existence of the individual as a larger or smaller room, it appears evident that most people learn to know only a corner of their room, a place by the window, a strip of floor on which they walk up and down. Thus they have a certain security. And yet that dangerous insecurity is so much more human."

It's that time of year again...

my favorite time of the year...fall. I love fall. I love having to carry a sweater with me. I love sleeping with the windows open and waking up snuggled beneath my down comforter. I love feeling the crunch of fallen leaves under my shoes. In short, I love fall.

I know it's fall when SING and Homecoming at HSU rolls around. This weekend is Homecoming and tomorrow night I am going to SING with my family. This is the first time since 2000 that I have had absolutely nothing to do with SING. I no longer have to make sure everything is going right back stage. I don't have to worry about the cast knowing their lines. I don't have to work with David for hours on end to make sure the script is going to work. I don't have to be nervous as the curtains rise on opening night, which is tonight. I have somehow escaped the realm of SING, and I am so thankful for that fact. Life has been a little more stress-free than it was during this time last year, so...yay!

Speaking of this time last year, my blog celebrated it's first year in existence at the end of September. It's kind of entertaining to look back and see what all was going on in my life at that time. It makes me thankful for the people that are in my life now, and I can see how God has worked in my life during the past year, which is always good to reflect on.

So, other than Homecoming, nothing big is going on. I am working on my thesis, which I need to kick into high gear. I am currently having a love affair with my Powerbook, which I adore. I thought in getting the PB I would spend quite a bit of time working on my thesis, but instead I have just been adding a lot of music, writing obscure things for fun (not work), and talking to friends online. It's no good. I must focus.

Okay, well...I better get back to work. I hope all of you have a fabulous weekend!

Oh, and the "Filthy Lexicon" says, "Where's my Mickey Mouse shirt, b?!"

If it looks like it works and it feels like it works...

then it works.

"Wow"- Snow Patrol

Don't be scared of anything at all.
Everything we have is all we need.
All the spotlights streaming into angry skies
means there's no one watching as we leave.
Say the first thing that
comes into your head when you see me.
If it looks like it works and it feels like it works
then it works.
With the sun on your face
all these worries will soon disappear.
Just follow me now.
Just follow me now.
I find careful patterns in the snow.
It seems you did come around but changed your mind.
If you'd just take ten more steps to me,
I won't ever ask you again.
Just because I couldn't say doesn't make me a liar.
I noticed a change in the tone of your voice.
It's so clear.
My role in this mess
is not something that I can be proud of,
but it's all going to change.
Yes, it's all going to change
All going to change.
Yes it's all going to change.
Say the first thing that
comes into your head when you see me.
If it looks like it works and it feels like it works
then it works.
With the sun on your face
all these worries will soon disappear.
Just follow me now.
Just follow me now.

In cleaning my room...

a letter that I wrote in 6th grade fell out of an old book. Apparently I wrote it to my "boyfriend" and never gave it to him. Oh, middle school.

BJ (annoying little squiggly marks)
Hey! That test really wasn't that hard in history. I forgot to study last night. DUH! (Yes, "duh" is in all caps with an exclamation point.) Do you know Sonya Marean? She says you're a pain in the butt! (Oh, I remember when I used to say butt.) She says you call her names! (Melia, calm down with the exclamation points.) You don't do you? Don't be a jerk. (That makes me laugh.) Speaking of jerks, I have Dru Willis this period! Mrs. McKeever always gets on to him. I don't blame her! He's a little, ugly, squid! (Man...how did I live without using expletives? Oh, that's right. I called people "squids", apparently.) I'm sorry you have math next period. It would be fun if I was in there with you! (I must have really loved this boy to have wanted to be in math with him...thinking it would be "fun". I hate math.)
Love,
Melia (with another squiggly mark and a badly drawn appears-to-be daisy)
p.s. Call me tonight. No, I won't be home. I'll call you but I can only talk for a few minutes!
p.p.s. I can't believe you made me watch Arachnophobia. It was stupid. (To this day, I am sticking to my guns on that one.)

It makes a difference...

"When I Go"- Over the Rhine

It makes a difference
when you walk through a room
with that worrisome smile,
road weary perfume.

But this isn't the place
and it isn't the time
for this beautiful delusion
that is robbing me blind.

I want to know.
I want to know.
Will it make a difference
when I go?

It makes a difference
that I'm feeling this way,
with plenty to think about
and so little to say.

Except for this confession
that is poised on my lips...
I'm not letting go.
I'm just losing my grip.

I want to know.
I want to know
Will it keep you guessing
when I go?

What is a love
if the love's not my own?
This is not my home.
This is lonely,
but never alone.

I just want to hold you
in my gaze for a while
so I can remember
every line around your smile.

Then I want to know.
I want to know.
Will it make a difference
when I go?

"I have a medical condition..."

As you may have read in my friend's (The Tool) blog, this weekend I was in Dallas for Bad Girls' Weekend Vol. 2. I hate to repeat everything Ashley said, so I will try to remember various details she left out. I should just list them...it takes less brain power.

1. Ashley played a tiny guitar on the back porch. Rockin'!
2. Katy makes terrific cocktails. I make cocktails that no one will remember the next morning.
3. I can fall asleep standing up. Is it a gift? Is it a curse? I don't know...it's just a fact.
4. Katy's bike was not stolen off the back of her Passat, but someone did steal the Passat. JK. I think Ashley may have stolen a side-panel though. She's sneaky.
5. I was either married by or married to a guy named Mikey at The Library in downtown Ft. Worth. Where's my damn ring?!
6. La Bamba isn't such a bad movie; I think I saw Katy crying. I am sorry for my snide comments Ashley.
7. I bought the most comfortable shoes in the entire world this weekend, and they were only $20.
8. Katy is extremely talented in getting free drinks for not just herself, but Ashley and me too.
9. There's nothing better than 3 absolutely delirious girls ordering breakfast from a crazy old woman at 4:30am. Katy could barely order her oatmeal through the laughter.
10. When someone says they are buying "sunglasses", they probably aren't. That same person will probably thump you on the forehead later...or tickle you...whatever.
11. At some point, while walking downtown, one of the girls said, "God, I love being a woman!" What does this mean?
12. There is definitely something to be said for lounging around the house all day. I'm for it!
13. Ashley showed off her lock-picking skills with a wooden stick. That's talent.
14. The drive back to Abilene seems a lot shorter when you've got terrific conversation and your best friend.
15. Last but not least..."I have a medical condition!"

Maybe I'm not so "predictable" after all...

You are about to see how my brain operates; it will fold out right in front of your very eyes. Don't be scared.

Tonight my mother was in the kitchen and since I was there too, we began talking. The IKEA catalog sparked talk of my moving. My moving spawned a thought in her head about me getting an internship next semester in Ft. Worth or Dallas at a publishing house while I study for my orals, which I will take towards the end of the spring semester.

This thought led me to the Wadsworth/Thomson Learning website. I want to work for Wadsworth. That's why I was there. Anyway, I was looking for any open positions, even for internships, in the Metroplex. The search turned up with nothing. I looked for any positions in any field at one of the Metroplex locations. Nothing. I moved on to the state of Texas. Nothing, really. Hmmm...

Then it began to rain outside my window. I opened the window. Smelled the rain. Then I started thinking about London.

I searched in the Editorial/Publishing fields, without specifying where. They had several open positions in New York. They had several open positons in random places like Cleveland and Denver. And then, after scrolling to the bottom of the page, I saw that there were three openings in London. I looked at two of them and thought, I could do that.

I looked back out at the rain. I thought of Rachael Yamagata lyrics. I wondered where my latest resume and cover letter were located.

I found them on my jump drive. I polished up my resume. I wrote a new and improved cover letter. And I sent it.

Then I just sat in this chair and stared at the screen.

I am not sure why I spent my evening working on my resume and a cover letter. It was an impulse. I am 98% sure I will not get the job, but I am 100% sure that I am sick of sitting around and dreaming big. I want my actions to be "big". I don't want to have any regrets.

Applying for a job in another country is the least predictable thing I have done in a while, but I keep thinking (when my mind wanders for a few seconds) about what it would be like to pack up my bags and go. Now that, my friends, would be unpredicatable.

This summer, as I walked around London with my trusty mp3 player, I remember listening to this song incessantly. Tonight, with the thoughts of London and the smell of rain, these words are echoing through my mind.

You sat down next to me, like poetry to wine.
Our window looked upon a yellow neon sign.
I took your hand while you decided what to do.
The only kiss I ever miss I shared with you.
The other cities hold a memory still of a place.
But when I dream of London I can only see your face

I want you
or no one.
No one else will do.
You, or no one.
No one is the only one
to fill the empty space I hold for you.

You simplified me down to slogans on the wall.
I took offense, but you were right about them all.
My friends are telling me I shouldn't waste my time,
but I can't concentrate until I make you mine.
I'm drawing cards and making wishes down by the well.
Who would've known I'd lose myself in that old hotel.

I want you
or no one.
No one else for me.
You, or no one.
'Cause no one else is strong enough, strong enough
to slow me down in time to set me free.

I want you
or no one else.
No one else is fine.
Oh, you, or no one.
No one is the only one
to fill me up until I make you mine.

The present is just a pleasant interruption to the past...

Oh, blog...it has been far too long. I have good intentions, I really do, yet somewhere along the way they completely fall away from the forefront of my mind. When that happens, those intentions are gone for quite a while.

I have photos I want to post from my two-weekends-ago trip to College Station, via the Weezer/Foo Fighters concert in Dallas. I believe Weezer referred to the evening's concert as "Foozer". Anyway, I want to add photographs from that crazy weekend. There are actually several things I would like to add, but instead of posting new blog entries I have been reading interesting works, such as female captivity narratives. Now, I know all of you are jealous because captivity narratives are so exciting, but try to muffle your enthusiasm. I know that no excuses will suffice when it comes to my blogspot absence, but I feel that I will share with you one source of dismay and semi-outrage: one of my professor's is giving us our midterm next Monday, which means I have to get all of my studying accomplished before girls weekend commences, or I will never get it done. Midterm? It feels like we just began the semester. Oh, well.

Here's a bit of awesome news to follow the captivity crap...I get my Powerbook tomorrow. Today I received my first box from Apple, containing all of my purchased "accessories", and I was pretty pumped. I never buy anything and I never get mail, so it was like...a double whammy! I need to end this shopping spree, indeed...but it's so fun. It's like Ashley says, "You just swipe your card and they let you take it home! You swipe the card and it's yours." Hmm...in looking at that statement, I am sitting here thinking about the overwhelming personal debt in our society...and now I am not so "pumped". Oh, well...that's society, not me. I am paying this thing off ASAP and then I will move on to bigger and better (if there is such a thing), such as the furniture on the pages of the IKEA catalog that I have dog-eared. Now all I need is a studio apartment to fill up. Man, the to-do list on the palm of my left hand has grown by two items in the last minute. I need to slow down.

Okay, well...it's my bedtime. Time for some chocolate milk and maybe some music. Tonight I have this song stuck in my head. It's really long, so I will just include the "stuck" excerpts...and it will still be long.

"Konstantine" by Something Corporate

I can't imagine all the people that you know
and the places that you go
when the lights are turned down low.
And I don't understand all the things you've seen,
but I'm slipping in between
you and your big dreams.
It's always you
in my big dreams.
And you dont wanna be here in the future
so you say the present is just a pleasant interruption to the past.
And you dont wanna look much closer
cause you are afraid to find out all this hope
you had sent into the sky by now had
crashed,
and it did

because of me. And then you bring me home,
afraid to find out that you are alone, oh.
And I'm sleeping in your living room,
but we dont have much room to live.

And I had these dreams. In them I learned to play guitar,
maybe cross the country,
become a rock star.
And there was hope in me that I could take you there,
but damnit, you're so young...
well, i dont think I care.
And if I hurt you
then I'm sorry.
Please don't think that this was easy.

And then you bring me home
cause we both know what it's like to be alone, oh.
And I'm dreaming in your living room,
but we don't have much room to live.

And I was thinking
what I was thinking.
We've been drinking and it doesn't get me anywhere.
My Konstantine came walking down the stairs
and all that I could do was touch her long blond hair.
And I've been thinking,
but it hurts.
And those nights in my car
when the first star you see
may not be a star,
I'm not your star.
Isn't that what you said?
What you thought this song meant?

And if this is what it takes
just to lie with my mistakes
and live with what I did to you,
all the hell I put you through.
I always catch the clock,
its 11:11.
Now you wanna talk.
It's not hard to dream.
You'll always be my Konstantine.
My Konstantine,
they'll never hurt you like I do.
No, they'll never hurt you like I do.
No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no....

This is to a girl
who got into my head
with all the pretty things she did.
Hey,
you know
you keep me up in bed.
This is to a girl who got into my head
with all these f-ed up things I did.
Hey,
maybe
baby you could keep me up in bed,
my Konstanine.

You spin around me like a dream
we played out on this movie screen,
and I said,
Did you know I missed you?
I miss you.

And then you bring me home
and we go to sleep,
but this time not alone.
And I know
you'll kiss me in your living room.
I know.
I know you miss me in your living room,
cause these nights I think
maybe that I miss you in my living room,
but we don't have much room.
I said, does anybody need that room?
Because we all need a little more room
to live,
my Konstantine....

Something to Ponder...

I have a widget that has a word, quote, and joke of the day every weekday. Today's quote was very interesting.

"Life is all about ass: you're either covering it, laughing it off, kicking it, kissing it, busting it, trying to get a piece of it, or behaving like one."-- Friedrich Nietche

When a meteor hit outside the city of Centerville...

a mysterious cloud released a chemical that enabled bears to evolve and fill the void left by humans.

And within two weeks, they had established...Bear City.

Bear City, Bear, Bear City....

Although they couldn't talk, they went about their lives just like man had done.

The only humans left in Bear City were two brave children. And they were quickly eaten. By bears.



Thanks for visiting Bear City.

Now, my question is...if one was living in Bear City and they, by chance, had a Rosa's Tortilla Factory, would they have honey humans at every table?!

Let's take the train to anywhere...

Okay, so I am back. The play is over. My nights are free (for the most part). Awesome!

This weekend was great! Thank you to everyone who came to see the play. Emily, Grant, and Trevor drove in from Dallas/Ft. Worth to see it, and some of you even saw it multiple times (Ashley, Cliff, Toby, Miles). You all are troopers! Thank you.

Saturday was awesome! Grant and I ate at La Popular for breakfast. My mother and grandmother made an incredible meal for us for lunch. Later in the afternoon, Grant and I played disc golf in the crazy Texas heat; he's really good...I pretty much suck. His GPS system broke or I would have forced him to partake in a little Geocaching. Saturday night was the show and my entire family...along with Grant and his sister and her husband...and several friends showed up. The audience was awesome, so it made the show all the more exciting! After the show, Grant's sister made us dessert over at her house, and then it was over to Ashley's for cocktails and a little Bear City, Bear Bear City. Good times. Sunday was our final show and strike, so it's officially over...forever. I miss seeing those guys (and Carrie) every night, but at least now I can actually focus on my school work. I would like to graduate eventually.

Anyway, I just found out I have a 7 page paper due Monday. That shouldn't be too big of a deal, however, I am leaving on Thursday for the weekend. Thursday night Grant and I are going to the Weezer/Foo Fighters concert in Dallas, and then Friday we are off to College Station for the weekend. It should be a pretty crazy time. There are like 12 people staying in the house we are staying at: all of his ex-roommates, plus their cousins and their cousins cousins...or something like that. It should be a lot of fun, and I am sure I will have plenty of stories to share when I get back.

On a ridiculous note, last night I was panicking because I had to edit stories for The Brand and send them in immediately because this weekend (when I usually edit) was so chaotic and I had no time. So, I go up to The Brand office where I am confronted with this man from out of nowhere. He tries to seem all authoritative and he's like, "Umm...yes...these are the changes we want to see on this article. I have circled sections...see, like this one, no. This other one...no. We can't say that because it implies things about the administration. We can't say this because it kind of points a finger...but I have written something at the end here that we could say...so, make these changes." Okay, first off...who are you?! Secondly, there was a speech in the play about our freedom of expression, especially on HSU campus, that makes what you are saying to me come across as extremely ironic. Thirdly, seriously?! Fourthly...implies? Points a finger? Good. It's a freaking op-ed piece. The writer should be able to express his/her thoughts...the writer didn't name drop and the facts were true so stop trying to cover your ass and let this go to print. God forbid we have anything edgy to say. God forbid we make any statement that could be taken in any other way than safe and completely PC. I was just like, why do I work for these people?! I mean, when writers can't speak their minds...what's the point. I wanted to say, hey...why don't you just write every article and edit it yourself. Then it will be the most boring paper ever...oh, wait a minute.

Song I am currently listening to:

"Don't Ever" by Missy Higgins

Let's take the train to anywhere.
I wanna feel the wind in my hair with you.
Let's tell them all, that soon they'll know
how very wrong they were to think we'd never go,
and if you tell me yours I'll tell you mine.
And we will clean the cobwebs out of one another's minds.

Don't ever say you've tried to leave me in this life.
Don't ever say you've tried for the last time.

We'll get a house where the trees hang low and pretty little flowers
on our window sill will grow.
We'll make friends with the milk man and the butcher Mr. Timms
will give us discounts when he can,
and if you tell me yours I'll tell you mine.
And we will clean the cobwebs out of one another's minds.

Don't ever say you've tried to leave me in this life.
Don't ever say you've tried for the last time.

Don't ever say you've tried to leave me in this life .
Don't ever say you've tried to leave me in this life.
Don't ever say you've tried for the last time....

The write-up in today's newspaper...

Thank you Janet.

Play Review: HSU's 'Complete History' is total blast
By Janet Van Vleet / Reporter-News Staff Writer September 8, 2005

From the founding fathers to Abraham Lincoln to American Indians, no one is safe from the irreverent comedy of ''The Complete History of America (abridged)'' - not even the audience.

Directed by senior Carrie Helms, the first show of the Hardin-Simmons University theater season featured three talented actors playing ... themselves. Brad Ellison, Melia McFarland and Eric Peets guide the crowd from America's earliest beginnings to the present.

Filled with sight gags (Peets as a woman in bad wigs and dresses), so-lame-it's-funny puns (''Lucy in disguise with Diamond'') and jokes that fly so fast they're easy to miss (so listen carefully), it's just plain fun.

The distinctive-voiced Ellison played various characters, such as the grim Salem preacher making church announcements about making nooses and thumb screws during arts and crafts. He performed one of his funniest bits, about conspiracies, while lying on the ground. Now that's good delivery.

McFarland and Peets zoomed in and out, dropping one-liners and ba-da-bum moments. Peets' poem about the colonists that segued into a rap cracked everyone up. During a radio broadcast, McFarland booms the cymbals. Why? ''Heavy cymbalism.''

The Lincoln assassination involves a hand puppet, a huge admission ticket and a recurring cardboard bullet - it must be seen to get the full impact. Believe me, its funny.

The cheekiness of the actors and the cleverness of the writing make this a very comical show.

If you're in the audience, beware - audience participation isn't voluntary. By the way, take heed of the warning about a ''splash zone'' (umbrellas optional).

If you go ...
What: ''The Complete History of America (abridged)'' (comedy)
When: 8 p.m. tonight-Saturday, 2 p.m. Sunday
Where: Van Ellis Theatre, Hardin-Simmons University
How much: $5 adults, $3 students, free for HSU students, faculty, staff

Because it's a High Fidelity kind of night...

The book or the film...both excellent. Here are several of my favorite quotes:

It's no good pretending that any relationship has a future if your record collections disagree violently or if your favorite films wouldn't even speak to each other if they met at a party.

I wanna date a musician...
I wanna live with a musician...
And we could sit around and write songs all day, and maybe even include one of our little private jokes in the liner notes.
Or maybe even a picture of me somewhere in the liner notes, but just in the background somewhere.

Top five things I miss about Laura:
One - Sense of humor. Very dry, but it can also be warm and forgiving. And she's got one of the best all-time laughs in the history of all-time laughs. She laughs with her entire body.
Two - She's got character...or at least she had character before the Ian nightmare. She's loyal and honest and she doesn't even take it out on people when she's having a bad day. That's character.
Three - I miss...her smell...and the way she tastes. It's a mystery of human chemistry and I don't understand it. Some people, as far as your senses are concerned, just...feel...like home.
Four- I really dig how she walks around. It's like she doesn't care how she looks or what she projects. And it's not that she doesn't care, it's just...she's not affected I guess. And that gives her grace.
Five- She does this thing in bed when she can't get to sleep. She kind of half-moans and then rubs her feet together an equal number of times. It just...kills me.

A while back, me, Dick, and Barry agreed that what really matters is WHAT you like, not what you ARE like. Books, records, films, these things matter! Call me shallow, but it's the f-ing truth.

...And I'm tired of that. I'm tired of everything else, for that matter. But I never seem to get tired of you.

Liking both Marvin Gaye and Art Garfunkel is like supporting both the Israelies and the Palestinians.
No, it's really not, Rob. You know why? Because Marvin Gaye and Art Garfunkel make pop records.
Made! Made! Marvin Gaye was shot by his father!

What came first, the music or the misery? People worry about kids playing with guns or watching violent videos afraid that some sort of culture of violence will take them over. Nobody worries about kids listening to thousands, literally thousands, of songs about heartbreak, rejection, pain, misery, and loss. Did I listen to pop music because I was miserable? Or was I miserable because I listened to pop music?

Opening nights and Almond Joy's...

Thank you to whoever put Almond Joy's in the dressing room community bucket-o-candy. You truly know the way to my heart...and a mouth full of Almond Joy beats a mouth full of bubble concentrate any day. Let me explain.

Last night, during our final dress rehearsal, I poured bubbles into my I-am-Benjamin-Franklin pipe and upon trying to smoke it I injested quite a lot of "bubble concentrate". This was completely stupid on my part. I spent a few seconds in the scene gagging, making repulsed faces, etc., which just made our small audience laugh harder. Little did they know that I would spend the next act wanting to throw up and honestly believing that if I had the hiccups bubbles would actually come out of my mouth. That would have been pretty cool.

So, tonight was opening night and we had a total blast! Sidenote: I want to thank Cliff for being in the audience. It meant a lot to look out and see a really good friend laughing at our nerdy humor. Seriously, thank you Cliff...you are an awesome friend! The audience tonight was a typical weeknight audience, but it was such a rush to finally have people laughing at jokes that we once thought were funny, but after rehearsing them over and over had completely lost any semblance of humor. Even though, during tonight's show, a few props were misplaced, etc., we were able to cover for each other and ad-lib, such as Brad's a nun, a priest, and a whatever joke to which I came out and cut him off alluding to the fact that everyone, if he had finished where he was going with that joke, would have been scarred for life. We had to do something in order to cover the time it took to get the flip chart out on stage. Way to go, Brad! I told Brad and Eric before entering the stage tonight that I trust them tremendously, and that may have been the only serious thing I said for the next two or so hours. I cannot say I have ever been in a show where I know, no matter what happens, we will be fine. I know if I forget a line, these guys will either say it or give me a cue or ad-lib and cover it completely, and we wouldn't miss a beat. I would do the same for them. Working with such a small cast has its disadvantages...mainly that there are so many freaking lines. However, a small cast has infinite advantages...such as having that immense trust and learning to really play off of one another. I have loved this theatre experience moreso than any play I have ever been in, and its all due to having a wonderful director (Carrie) and two incredible cast-mates (Brad and Eric).

If you are bored or have no plans for the weekend, you should come to the show. Some people laughed tonight, so I guess a few things must be funny...or maybe they were laughing at my cymbal playing. Oh, well...either way I think you should come! You can reserve tickets at 325.670.1405. It will be showing Thursday-Saturday at 8pm and Sunday at 2pm in Van Ellis Theatre. So, I have given you the details and now I am going to go climb in bed. Okay? Rockin'.

Lake weekend and Tool and the Gang...

I mean...the Core 47.

Here are several long overdue photos taken on various weekends leading up to the start of school.

Lake Whitney:


Ashley and me out on the boat.


Crazy Grant, enjoying the water. I think he was smiling about Nutter Butter wafers.


Cliff and me before Cliff almost dove into a tree.


After a day out in the sun, I thought it was a good idea to try to climb these cliffs with Grant.


How I want to spend every day.

Core 47 concerts:


Ashley at Rack Daddy's.


Good times. Thank you Evan Williams.


Ashley and Cliff at The Back Room.


Ashley, just.


Cliff, just.


Core 47: Voted Best Rock Band in Abilene.


Or was it Gayest Rock Band in Abilene? I am not sure.

I set sail to chart the seas in 1499...

in a vessel full of dreams, pastrami, and cheap wine. -TCHA (abridged)

Hello friends.

It has been a while since I have posted, mainly due to play rehearsals and jumping back into school full-speed ahead.

Rehearsals are going well and the play opens this Wednesday. I have never heard of opening on a Wednesday, but alas...that is what we are doing. Though we have been rehearsing a lot, it doesn't really seem like work because a) it's a three person cast and one of the guys in the play with me (Eric), as well as the director(Carrie), are friends I hang out with on a consistent basis anyway and 2) a lot of the scenes are ad-libbed, so that keeps things new and exciting. I feel bad for Carrie because her end-of-show notes for Brad, Eric, and I usually sound something like this:
1) Eric, don't forget to take the table off stage right.
2) You can't say "get laid".
3) Brad, try to keep your energy at the level of Eric's.
4) If you can't find a prop...please don't say "son of a bitch".
5) Melia, kissing President Lincoln was a bold choice...don't make out with him.
6) Eric, don't say "damnit".
7) Melia, you can't call Brad a "pompous ass".
We always laugh through them, but poor Carrie has to deal with us on a day-to-day basis, and she...somehow...still trusts us and gives us enormous amounts of "artistic freedom". Plain and simple: Carrie is awesome! If nothing else, The Complete History of America (abridged) will be funny, so come see it. Your incentive: Eric plays all the chick roles.

For the past week or so, I have not been able to stop thinking about Katrina, the hurricane that pummeled through Louisiana and Mississippi leaving a horrible path of destruction in its wake. I watched Fox News all last weekend as they described what they believed was going to happen to the city of New Orleans, but Monday morning, I was glad to see that it had not caused as much damage as they first believed. The next day I turned on the television to see people saying things like, we thought New Orleans would be spared, but the water keeps rising. After that, the news just became more and more devastating. Water up to the ceilings. People trapped in attics or on roofs. People being taken to the Superdome. No air conditioning. Temperatures in the mid-90's with 90% humidity. No clean water. No functional plumbing. Food supplies running low. Fires. Children separated from their parents. People looting (What in the world are you going to do with a 50" plasma television when there is no electricity and you have to carry it out of the store and onto the air mattress you are floating around on? Idiots!). Bodies pushed to the side of streets. Gunfire. Mob mentality. These people have lost everything.

Last night, as I drove home, washed my face, brushed my teeth, and got in bed, I realized how much I take for granted. I have a car. I have toiletries. I have running water in my own home. I have a home. I don't have to share my room with thirty other people who just need a dry place to lay their heads. This morning I woke up and had food in the pantry, a case of bottled water in the refrigerator, and a just-washed change of clothes on my back. I am truly blessed and incredibly thankful. In seeing footage from Louisiana and Mississippi on the news, you would think it was directly from a war zone or a third-world country. This hits close to home. This could be me. This could be you. Left with nothing. No home. No car. No "stuff"...as my mother said. They have the clothes on their backs. I cannot comprehend how one would move on after this type of tragedy. You have no home to go back to, or if you do you have to completely gut the home and deal with all of the wreckage. You have no job because the building no longer exists. Your children have no school. And, hopefully, you were not living from pay check to pay check, because then you would truly have nothing. People on the news cannot believe the mob mentality of these people, but they are desperate people. Hungry people. Incredibly distressed people. Desperate is the best word. They are crying out for help, not from other countries, but from us...American citizens, just like them. The government is finally acting. We need to do more. We need to move faster. Sitting here, taking computer access for granted, I feel helpless. On the news they flash numbers and names of foundations that are asking for money and toiletries. That would be a good start, but I guess...at this moment...all we can do is pray for the victims and for our country.

Survey says...

that I took this idea from Ashley's blog. www.colorgenics.com

You have always longed for tenderness, love and a sensitivity of feeling into which you would like to blend. You are a very gentle warm person and responsive to 'All things bright and beautiful'. This personifies a caring person, a person who 'needs' and indeed 'needs to be needed'.

You are working extremely hard - perhaps even above and beyond the call of duty. You are preparing for the future and therefore trying to build a firm trouble-free foundation upon which you may base all of your dreams and aspirations.

Compromise is the name of the game at this time and it is the only way you can avoid being deprived of the love and affection you so rightly deserve -so soften up a little, be flexible.

Your confidence has been shattered. There are so many things that you would like to do with your life, so many dreams to be fulfilled - and you know that your hopes and dreams are not just figments of your imagination, they are real and you are looking for reassurance from someone. Basically your fears are such that you may be prevented in attaining your hopes and dreams. Even now you would like to broaden your fields of endeavor but in order to develop your 'inner- self' you need peace and solace. You are distressed by the fear that you may be prevented from attaining your goals. What you really need at this particular moment in time is quiet reassurance from someone close to you to restore your confidence.

You are being unduly influenced by the situation that is all around you. You do not like the feeling of loneliness and whatever it is that seems to separate you from others. You know that life can be wonderful and you are anxious to experience life in all its aspects, to live it to the full. You therefore resent any restriction or limitations that are being imposed on you and you insist on going it alone.

Lisa Loeb, I love you...

I kept talking to myself.
I had to get the words out of my head.
(So I did.)
You barely said a thing;
you kind of heard me out and then you said,
(You said...)
"You’re crazy, why do you keep doing this?
Everything is fine."
Then I think I’m crazy.
I do this all the time.
Until I start to think that nothing’s even wrong.
Maybe I am hiding in my own confusion.
Maybe we’re just a picture in my head.
Maybe what if it could be the way I wish it really was?
Maybe I don’t want to see it the way it really is.
Sometimes your intentions are totally impossible to read.
(What does that mean?)
Sometimes even I have no idea what I need.
(I wish I did.)
I’m crazy. Why do I keep doing this?
Everything is fine.
Then you think I’m crazy.
I do this all the time.
Until I start to think that something’s really wrong.
Maybe I am hiding in my own confusion.
Maybe we’re just a picture in my head.
Maybe what if it could be the way I wish it really was?
Maybe I don’t want to see it the way it really is.
Looking through my window at the big, blue sky
the lazy sun is shining, so I run outside
to look for you. I look for you
and then it starts to rain.
Is that the way it really is?
Maybe I am hiding in my own confusion.
Maybe we’re just a picture in my head.
Maybe what if it could be the way I wish it really was?
Maybe I don’t want to see it the way it really is.
Maybe I am hiding in my own confusion.
Maybe we’re just a picture in my head.
Maybe what if it could be the way I wish it really was?
Maybe I don’t want to see it the way it really is.
The way it really is.
The way it really is.
The way it really is.

My Starbucks cup makes sense...

Embrace this right now life while
it's dripping, while the flavors are
excellently woesome. Take your
bites with bravery and boldness
since the learning and the growing
are here in these times, these exact
right nows. Capture these times.
Hold and kiss them because it
will soon be very different.
--Jill Scott

Observations upon visiting my local Walmart...

as to why foreigners have every right to hate Americans.

I will only touch on one reason in this post, but if you want to know more I can most definitely list them for you.

Yesterday, for some unknown reason, I decided that it would be a good idea to visit the new Super Walmart built fairly close to where I am now living. As I pulled into the parking lot, I realized that every aisle was backed up because five or six cars were waiting for people that were still loading things into their minivans to get into their automobiles, start them up, check their rearview mirrors, and back out so that the first greedy car full of completely healthy twenty year olds (I am not denying that I have been one of these said twenty year olds in the past) could have a space that was 25 yards from the door instead of parking in the first empty space that was at most 75 yards from the entrance. I parked my car in the last spot at the end of one of the aisles and I couldn't help my bitterness as I passed by the six cars waiting and hoping for a space to open up. I mean, seriously people. I will have my shopping completely finished by the time you find a space so that you can save yourself 50 yards of walking. Awesome rationale!

Then I started thinking, this is one of the many, many reason foreigners hate us. We are too lazy to walk an extra 50 yards when all over Europe people walk from their homes to the metro/tube/underground and then to work or to do their grocery shopping, etc. That's miles and miles every day. We don't walk anywhere. We are inconvenienced when we have to walk from one side of the Abilene mall to the other to get to where we parked our cars. In short, we are lazy asses.

Then we sit around and listen to theories and studies, we read pamphlets and magazine articles on why America is the most obese country by far, and somehow we still wonder why. I can't fathom!

Say goodnight and go...

Not much to report.

School began this week and if I tie up all of my loose ends it will be my final semester here. Miles just started classes at HSU and that is awesome! I love seeing him around campus. I am thinking that one day I will run into my mother and brother on campus. Why, it would be like a family reunion! Eww...That's kind of sad. I should be gone by now. I really feel like I have been here forever.

This weekend Core 47 is playing at The Back Room. You know how much I love them! The only disappointing thing is that Grant will not be here. His dad had a heart attack last week (continue praying for his health) and is thankfully back at home now, so Grant is going to Waco instead to help his mother with some things around the house. What a good guy. I will still miss him sharing in the Core 47 experience with me. Oh well...we always have Weezer, baby! Oh, September is going to be a good month!

Rehearsals are in full swing. I am excited about the play. Last night I started laughing in the middle of a scene, so tonight my goal is to make it through without breaking character. I have never worried about breaking character before, but this play, even after I have heard the lines a million times, still makes me laugh out loud.

Okay, well...that's about it for today's entry. I am going to grab a bite to eat with Peets before rehearsal. I hope you are all having a great week!