I am worth $2,318,790.00 on HumanForSale.com
This site is both hilarious and disturbing...giving my life a monetary value. I keep thinking about the most famous actors in Hollywood that star in blockbuster movies, and how they get paid approximately nine times more than I am worth for one movie, or a few months of their time. Hmm...something to think about. Doesn't it make you feel awesome about yourself?
If any of you have 2.5 mil that you are looking to spend wisely; I could be a smart investment.
If you would like a typed, double-spaced list of reasons why I would be a sensible purchase, feel free to e-mail me and I will get back to you within five working days.
Wednesday, March 30, 2005
I think I like you, but you like this whole room...
you sexy machine. - Gavin Degraw
I think I am still recovering from this past weekend. To sum up: Ashley, Katy, Cara, and me. Rap music. Guitar playing. Girl talk. Eskimo Hut. I like to call it "The night that lasted a weekend". I didn't even stay up all night at middle school lock-ins. I was the kid that fell asleep, subsequently falling prey to whatever my "friends" thought would be funny: shaving cream in the palms + feather lightly grazing the nose, hand in warm water, underwear in the freezer, what have you. I couldn't stay up when I was 14. What made me believe that I could stay up all night, not having to eventually face the consequences, I am not sure. For some reason, staying up sounded like an awesome idea. I think after 4 am, every idea seems awesome. I remember Ashley and I playing guitar at 5 am, and at that time my stream-of-consciousness thoughts were said aloud for all to hear:
Nine-thirty isn't so far away. Let's just stay up. Hey, we should go to Whataburger! Man, steak sounds really good. Why am I singing "Brick"? That is the most improbable song for a woman to sing...ever. It's about his girlfriend having an abortion. With me singing, it would have to be more like a ballad about immaculate conception. I have the key to Eric's...we should just go hang out there. While we're up we could even get in some punching-bag time. I wonder what time Texas Roadhouse opens. We're not really doing anything. We should just go wait in the parking lot. When does The Dixie Pig open? Pancakes sound good. Let's go let my dog out.
This went on for some time. If you ask Ashley and Katy, probably too long. By Saturday night, after having not slept since Friday morning, we were all delirious, which...although your body aches and you know you need sleep...it is actually kind of entertaining. Everything is funny. Everyone is funny. Ashley relates it to the cheapest state of drunkenness. All I remember from the next evening at Katy's is looking through a Pottery Barn catalog and laughing hysterically. I mean, I love Pottery Barn, but I never thought leather sofas could cause me to sit, doubled-over in pain from laughter.
Saturday night, in my delusional state, I went to dinner at Mary's with my friends from high school. I sat at the table, looking around and taking everything in. In five years, we have all changed so much. Trisha's married now and rockin' the short hair. Emily's in medical school. Allison works in Ft. Worth. Kimmy is working for a law firm in Austin. We all look older, different. Upon walking in the restaurant, I received a flood of comments about the length of my hair, remembering that they have not seen me in months, and even then, my hair hasn't been this long in...ever, maybe. I am so thankful that, though we have all changed, we can find a common thread that binds us together: our memories and the fact that we genuinely love and care for each other. High school memories colored our conversation. We talked about Emily's "Black Phantom", stalking incidents, different high school teachers, the middle school/high school heartthrobs and where they are now, old boyfriends, forgotten names and faces, etc. Nights like that are incredible. Old friends are priceless because they are the ones that know and love us...not only the old us, but the new us. They know your secrets, your mistakes. They laugh at your jokes, and know your thoughts, or even the next words out of your mouth without asking. I miss having these girls around me, but God has provided me with friends here that "get" me, and that is awesome. These girls cannot ever be replaced...they are like the ebb and flow of the ocean in my mind. Though they may travel far out, I know they will always find their way back to me, as I will to them. All of this to say, Saturday night was much needed.
Sunday...Easter. It was wonderful. I love Easter and I love spending time with my family. I am not sure they enjoyed spending time with me, as I was running on little sleep at that point. I recall telling a story about how the biggest fear with owning a chihuahua is that a hawk will sweep down and pick it up. Why did I tell this story? I don't know. I heard it from Ashley a while back and found it both intriguing and hysterical. Does anyone in my family even own a chihuahua? No. The puzzled looks on the faces of my family were terrific. I blame it on the sleep...or lack thereof.
The main point of this narrative: Melia + no sleep = Danger. Bad.
I think I am still recovering from this past weekend. To sum up: Ashley, Katy, Cara, and me. Rap music. Guitar playing. Girl talk. Eskimo Hut. I like to call it "The night that lasted a weekend". I didn't even stay up all night at middle school lock-ins. I was the kid that fell asleep, subsequently falling prey to whatever my "friends" thought would be funny: shaving cream in the palms + feather lightly grazing the nose, hand in warm water, underwear in the freezer, what have you. I couldn't stay up when I was 14. What made me believe that I could stay up all night, not having to eventually face the consequences, I am not sure. For some reason, staying up sounded like an awesome idea. I think after 4 am, every idea seems awesome. I remember Ashley and I playing guitar at 5 am, and at that time my stream-of-consciousness thoughts were said aloud for all to hear:
Nine-thirty isn't so far away. Let's just stay up. Hey, we should go to Whataburger! Man, steak sounds really good. Why am I singing "Brick"? That is the most improbable song for a woman to sing...ever. It's about his girlfriend having an abortion. With me singing, it would have to be more like a ballad about immaculate conception. I have the key to Eric's...we should just go hang out there. While we're up we could even get in some punching-bag time. I wonder what time Texas Roadhouse opens. We're not really doing anything. We should just go wait in the parking lot. When does The Dixie Pig open? Pancakes sound good. Let's go let my dog out.
This went on for some time. If you ask Ashley and Katy, probably too long. By Saturday night, after having not slept since Friday morning, we were all delirious, which...although your body aches and you know you need sleep...it is actually kind of entertaining. Everything is funny. Everyone is funny. Ashley relates it to the cheapest state of drunkenness. All I remember from the next evening at Katy's is looking through a Pottery Barn catalog and laughing hysterically. I mean, I love Pottery Barn, but I never thought leather sofas could cause me to sit, doubled-over in pain from laughter.
Saturday night, in my delusional state, I went to dinner at Mary's with my friends from high school. I sat at the table, looking around and taking everything in. In five years, we have all changed so much. Trisha's married now and rockin' the short hair. Emily's in medical school. Allison works in Ft. Worth. Kimmy is working for a law firm in Austin. We all look older, different. Upon walking in the restaurant, I received a flood of comments about the length of my hair, remembering that they have not seen me in months, and even then, my hair hasn't been this long in...ever, maybe. I am so thankful that, though we have all changed, we can find a common thread that binds us together: our memories and the fact that we genuinely love and care for each other. High school memories colored our conversation. We talked about Emily's "Black Phantom", stalking incidents, different high school teachers, the middle school/high school heartthrobs and where they are now, old boyfriends, forgotten names and faces, etc. Nights like that are incredible. Old friends are priceless because they are the ones that know and love us...not only the old us, but the new us. They know your secrets, your mistakes. They laugh at your jokes, and know your thoughts, or even the next words out of your mouth without asking. I miss having these girls around me, but God has provided me with friends here that "get" me, and that is awesome. These girls cannot ever be replaced...they are like the ebb and flow of the ocean in my mind. Though they may travel far out, I know they will always find their way back to me, as I will to them. All of this to say, Saturday night was much needed.
Sunday...Easter. It was wonderful. I love Easter and I love spending time with my family. I am not sure they enjoyed spending time with me, as I was running on little sleep at that point. I recall telling a story about how the biggest fear with owning a chihuahua is that a hawk will sweep down and pick it up. Why did I tell this story? I don't know. I heard it from Ashley a while back and found it both intriguing and hysterical. Does anyone in my family even own a chihuahua? No. The puzzled looks on the faces of my family were terrific. I blame it on the sleep...or lack thereof.
The main point of this narrative: Melia + no sleep = Danger. Bad.
Wednesday, March 23, 2005
...or I think it's just called gay-dar.
If you haven't yet, read Ashley's blog...you won't be sorry, ever. Never ever ever ever ever ever ever never ever ever.
If there's one word I can hear amplified and ringing through the chilly night air it's..."puppies"!
Melia: I hate me sometimes; I am such an ass. Seriously....
Ashley: Well, I love me.
Melia: I have decided that we are total b-words.
Ashley: And you're just now figuring that out? I made a commitment to b-wordism long ago, and I'm not a quitter.
I highly encourage you to visit Cold Stone Creamery. They have good eats and sing-alongs that will blow your mind. No...not really. You could not pay me enough to dance around and sing some lame-ass banana song. I mean, come on. FYI Cold Stone workers...you look like fools. Do you people have no integrity? Get a job at North Funeral Home or something...you won't suffer from carpal tunnel and you don't have to dance around acting like you are excited about bananas. And don't even act like you're excited to do it...you're not. Seriously...North Funeral Home.
Dear Cliff,
Thank you for your numerous e-mails. I had almost forgotten what it was like to be stalked. I typically only receive e-mails from MSNBC and other spam, but Cliff, you have somehow broken the spam record, beating out every porn site on the Internet that has managed to track me down. Kudos. Job well done. Ever.
Love,
Mc-something-or-other
Have I mentioned my love for T.C. Luigi's pizza? If not, I love it. A Sicilian pizza fed four of us tonight...you can't beat that!
Eric and Nanneman, I heart you to the max for hanging my punching bag up so I can punch. Ashley, you can punch too. Just don't punch me, ever.
And....what's the first rule of fight club? If you know the answer to that question then you know why I can not include any of the sordid details for you to read.
Photographs to come...indubitably. Indeed. Ever.
Here's looking at you-tah. The only state out of 50 where brain twins are recognized by the court system... and the Mormons.
If there's one word I can hear amplified and ringing through the chilly night air it's..."puppies"!
Melia: I hate me sometimes; I am such an ass. Seriously....
Ashley: Well, I love me.
Melia: I have decided that we are total b-words.
Ashley: And you're just now figuring that out? I made a commitment to b-wordism long ago, and I'm not a quitter.
I highly encourage you to visit Cold Stone Creamery. They have good eats and sing-alongs that will blow your mind. No...not really. You could not pay me enough to dance around and sing some lame-ass banana song. I mean, come on. FYI Cold Stone workers...you look like fools. Do you people have no integrity? Get a job at North Funeral Home or something...you won't suffer from carpal tunnel and you don't have to dance around acting like you are excited about bananas. And don't even act like you're excited to do it...you're not. Seriously...North Funeral Home.
Dear Cliff,
Thank you for your numerous e-mails. I had almost forgotten what it was like to be stalked. I typically only receive e-mails from MSNBC and other spam, but Cliff, you have somehow broken the spam record, beating out every porn site on the Internet that has managed to track me down. Kudos. Job well done. Ever.
Love,
Mc-something-or-other
Have I mentioned my love for T.C. Luigi's pizza? If not, I love it. A Sicilian pizza fed four of us tonight...you can't beat that!
Eric and Nanneman, I heart you to the max for hanging my punching bag up so I can punch. Ashley, you can punch too. Just don't punch me, ever.
And....what's the first rule of fight club? If you know the answer to that question then you know why I can not include any of the sordid details for you to read.
Photographs to come...indubitably. Indeed. Ever.
Here's looking at you-tah. The only state out of 50 where brain twins are recognized by the court system... and the Mormons.
Tuesday, March 22, 2005
Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee...
The photographs from this past weekend are on hiatus. They said they would be back by Wednesday, Thursday at the latest.
Side note: Monocles. How were they ever popular? Thank God for ear pieces; whoever invented the ear piece is a freaking genius. (This side note is for you Ash, and our late night cocktail conversations.)
So today after work I went window-shopping for boxing "stuff". New hobbies are always exciting, especially when they involve stress relief and getting to punch Eric in the face. Who could say no to that? Eric and I ran around town, pricing items and trying on head gear. Head gear is hilarious. Eric looked like a tard, but again...I got to punch him in the head and blame it on trying to see whether or not the head gear actually functioned at the paramount level...fun times.
Okay, after the running all over town I headed to my grandmother's house. She has been experiencing strange heart palpitations and high blood pressure, so I went over there to help her around the house. I went over there thinking nothing of it, that I would just vacuum her house and leave, but as I vacuumed, all I could think about was mortality. I am not sure if you think of yourself as invincible, but sometimes I fall into that trap. I take risks and I do things without thinking about consequences. I think about how other peoples lives are affected by disease or death, and I never stop to think that that could be me. Today, as I bent down to hug my grandmother, my feeling of invincibility fell away and the fraility and finiteness of life came into focus. My grandmother is full of life. She kept up with me in the metro stations in London, and as we climbed the many steps at Montmartre. I think of stories of her as a young mother, traveling alone with three young children through countries such as Turkey, etc. and it makes me realize that at one time she was in my shoes with the days laid out in front of her, the world at her fingertips. She is still vibrant, and she will be a go-getter until her dying day, but I realized today more than ever that that day will indeed come. Our days are numbered, and though we don't want to think about it, today I realized its importance. We need to live every day seeking adventure, we need to go for want we desire and never settle, and we need to find love...love that will be there when we are not feeling invincible. Love that will vacuum our houses when we do not have the strength. Love that is unconditional. My grandmother has led an incredible life, and looking back she has no regrets. She is not afraid of mortality, and I believe that the only cure for the fear of death is life. Going out and living...experiencing...living every day to the fullest. When your life is satisfying, and you know you have experienced all that life has to offer, death should be more of a simple answer to a question, rather than something that is tragically looming overhead.
Sorry for that tangent. It is just something I was thinking about today.
Tonight Ashley and I were supposed to have coffee with Rachel and Tighe, but Rachel was not feeling well so the coffee night had to be rescheduled. Instead, Ashley came with me to buy the boxing gloves I have been eyeing for some time now. The gloves will come in handy, seeing as how no one will have to go bare-knuckle. Later in the evening Eric came over to Ashley's to partake in some late night boxing. I only got to punch Eric in the face twice, but he hit me in the face once and that was enough for me. Somehow my nose did not bruise, for which I am grateful. I told him I was going to go around school showing people my swollen nose and/or black eye and saying, "Eric punched me in the face." I am sure that would look good. Ashley played the role of bell-ringer/trainer, and later she and I got to box, which was enjoyable to watch, I am sure. Next on the to-do list: hang punching bag. Boxing, even though I am not good at it, has been exciting for me to get into. It is a huge stress reliever, it helps coordination, and it raises my heart rate far faster than running, which is awesome. I am not looking to be a "million dollar baby"; I am not even a "dollar baby", but hey...I have fun!
One ironic thing is: I did not get hurt at all as fists were flying at my head tonight, and typically making full contact. I did, however, get hurt as I was walking up the stairs to my apartment, coming in for the night. I was thinking about someone and before I knew what hit me I was laying kind of sprawled out on the stairs. My cell phone had fallen thru the crack, down to the first floor...the battery lying in the grass, and everything that had been in my hands was spread all over the place. My hands should be hurting and sore, but instead my shin is bruised. Figure this one out.
Side note: Monocles. How were they ever popular? Thank God for ear pieces; whoever invented the ear piece is a freaking genius. (This side note is for you Ash, and our late night cocktail conversations.)
So today after work I went window-shopping for boxing "stuff". New hobbies are always exciting, especially when they involve stress relief and getting to punch Eric in the face. Who could say no to that? Eric and I ran around town, pricing items and trying on head gear. Head gear is hilarious. Eric looked like a tard, but again...I got to punch him in the head and blame it on trying to see whether or not the head gear actually functioned at the paramount level...fun times.
Okay, after the running all over town I headed to my grandmother's house. She has been experiencing strange heart palpitations and high blood pressure, so I went over there to help her around the house. I went over there thinking nothing of it, that I would just vacuum her house and leave, but as I vacuumed, all I could think about was mortality. I am not sure if you think of yourself as invincible, but sometimes I fall into that trap. I take risks and I do things without thinking about consequences. I think about how other peoples lives are affected by disease or death, and I never stop to think that that could be me. Today, as I bent down to hug my grandmother, my feeling of invincibility fell away and the fraility and finiteness of life came into focus. My grandmother is full of life. She kept up with me in the metro stations in London, and as we climbed the many steps at Montmartre. I think of stories of her as a young mother, traveling alone with three young children through countries such as Turkey, etc. and it makes me realize that at one time she was in my shoes with the days laid out in front of her, the world at her fingertips. She is still vibrant, and she will be a go-getter until her dying day, but I realized today more than ever that that day will indeed come. Our days are numbered, and though we don't want to think about it, today I realized its importance. We need to live every day seeking adventure, we need to go for want we desire and never settle, and we need to find love...love that will be there when we are not feeling invincible. Love that will vacuum our houses when we do not have the strength. Love that is unconditional. My grandmother has led an incredible life, and looking back she has no regrets. She is not afraid of mortality, and I believe that the only cure for the fear of death is life. Going out and living...experiencing...living every day to the fullest. When your life is satisfying, and you know you have experienced all that life has to offer, death should be more of a simple answer to a question, rather than something that is tragically looming overhead.
Sorry for that tangent. It is just something I was thinking about today.
Tonight Ashley and I were supposed to have coffee with Rachel and Tighe, but Rachel was not feeling well so the coffee night had to be rescheduled. Instead, Ashley came with me to buy the boxing gloves I have been eyeing for some time now. The gloves will come in handy, seeing as how no one will have to go bare-knuckle. Later in the evening Eric came over to Ashley's to partake in some late night boxing. I only got to punch Eric in the face twice, but he hit me in the face once and that was enough for me. Somehow my nose did not bruise, for which I am grateful. I told him I was going to go around school showing people my swollen nose and/or black eye and saying, "Eric punched me in the face." I am sure that would look good. Ashley played the role of bell-ringer/trainer, and later she and I got to box, which was enjoyable to watch, I am sure. Next on the to-do list: hang punching bag. Boxing, even though I am not good at it, has been exciting for me to get into. It is a huge stress reliever, it helps coordination, and it raises my heart rate far faster than running, which is awesome. I am not looking to be a "million dollar baby"; I am not even a "dollar baby", but hey...I have fun!
One ironic thing is: I did not get hurt at all as fists were flying at my head tonight, and typically making full contact. I did, however, get hurt as I was walking up the stairs to my apartment, coming in for the night. I was thinking about someone and before I knew what hit me I was laying kind of sprawled out on the stairs. My cell phone had fallen thru the crack, down to the first floor...the battery lying in the grass, and everything that had been in my hands was spread all over the place. My hands should be hurting and sore, but instead my shin is bruised. Figure this one out.
Monday, March 21, 2005
Thursday, March 17, 2005
Late nights, escaping Abilene, and partying like rock stars...
First of all, I want to say that I am boycotting the OC until they bring Alex back. I mean, really...the only reason I haven't absolutely hated Marissa this season is because Alex made her kind of cool. Without Alex, she sucks, as does the show.
Okay, enough of that. I am sitting in a room where Ashley just said, "She'll smell the liquor on my breath." To which Cliff replied, "She'll smell the liquor on your liquor." I don't know why I included that in this blog. Maybe because comments like this make me look around and say, wow. You know what else makes me say wow? I am typing this blog on my dream computer...an Apple G4. If you are independently wealthy, feel free to buy me one. Now the walls are actually vibrating with rap. Who are these people?! And more importantly...where were they during my earlier years at HSU? That's right...they were chasing their rock star dreams and having a lot more fun than me. I am so glad I am included in it now...and sometimes they even invite me to their concerts!
Tomorrow, after breakfast with Rachel and many errands, I am off to the Metroplex with Cara for the weekend. I am very excited about the weekend, as this week has totally sucked. Tomorrow we are meeting up with Trevor and Kim and hitting Dallas...I am thinking the Galleria, Deep Ellum, the West End, etc. Oh yes...this weekend will make up for all of the crap of the week. Saturday, Grant is coming to Dallas! The news of this made my week, as I miss him so much! For Saturday, I am thinking Mockingbird Station, maybe the Village...the possibilities are really endless. I cannot wait to be in the Metroplex for good. If any of you know Mr. Wadsworth, tell him that I want to come work for his publishing company. That would put me in Ft. Worth sooner than I planned, which would be a terrific blessing. Abilene is getting old in a big way. If I could wrap all of my friends up and take them with me I would leave tonight. If any of you can think of some sort of contraption with which I could collect all of my friends in order to transport them to wherever I end up, let me know. Back to this weekend's road trip: look for pictures. Hopefully I will capture some priceless moments on the streets of Dallas!
On a more somber note, I have been realizing more and more that me moving away is going to be happening fairly soon, and I know I will terribly miss everyone I love. Last night I talked to Marjorie who now lives in Denver, and I can legitimately say that I don't know when I will see her again. Sure, it makes me really sad, but as we get older...it is inevitable. I was lying in bed the other night with my dog and I realized that pretty soon it will just be Dakota and me (hopefully that will not last long before my hot and wealthy husband sweeps me off of my feet :)). Thinking about that usually would have scared me, but I was strangely at peace. I am actually excited about starting new. I have my whole life ahead of me, and I intend to make the most of it! I don't know what will happen in the next few years, but I am excited about what could happen!
Okay, sorry for the random side note. I need to get back to the party. The ice has melted in my drink...I hate when a good drink is all watered down.
All I can hear is, "What kind of pizza do you want? What kind of pizza do you want??!!! My equilibrium! What kind of pizza do you want?! I will not stop spinning until you order the pizza....and all the while my socks are green and argyle."
Okay, enough of that. I am sitting in a room where Ashley just said, "She'll smell the liquor on my breath." To which Cliff replied, "She'll smell the liquor on your liquor." I don't know why I included that in this blog. Maybe because comments like this make me look around and say, wow. You know what else makes me say wow? I am typing this blog on my dream computer...an Apple G4. If you are independently wealthy, feel free to buy me one. Now the walls are actually vibrating with rap. Who are these people?! And more importantly...where were they during my earlier years at HSU? That's right...they were chasing their rock star dreams and having a lot more fun than me. I am so glad I am included in it now...and sometimes they even invite me to their concerts!
Tomorrow, after breakfast with Rachel and many errands, I am off to the Metroplex with Cara for the weekend. I am very excited about the weekend, as this week has totally sucked. Tomorrow we are meeting up with Trevor and Kim and hitting Dallas...I am thinking the Galleria, Deep Ellum, the West End, etc. Oh yes...this weekend will make up for all of the crap of the week. Saturday, Grant is coming to Dallas! The news of this made my week, as I miss him so much! For Saturday, I am thinking Mockingbird Station, maybe the Village...the possibilities are really endless. I cannot wait to be in the Metroplex for good. If any of you know Mr. Wadsworth, tell him that I want to come work for his publishing company. That would put me in Ft. Worth sooner than I planned, which would be a terrific blessing. Abilene is getting old in a big way. If I could wrap all of my friends up and take them with me I would leave tonight. If any of you can think of some sort of contraption with which I could collect all of my friends in order to transport them to wherever I end up, let me know. Back to this weekend's road trip: look for pictures. Hopefully I will capture some priceless moments on the streets of Dallas!
On a more somber note, I have been realizing more and more that me moving away is going to be happening fairly soon, and I know I will terribly miss everyone I love. Last night I talked to Marjorie who now lives in Denver, and I can legitimately say that I don't know when I will see her again. Sure, it makes me really sad, but as we get older...it is inevitable. I was lying in bed the other night with my dog and I realized that pretty soon it will just be Dakota and me (hopefully that will not last long before my hot and wealthy husband sweeps me off of my feet :)). Thinking about that usually would have scared me, but I was strangely at peace. I am actually excited about starting new. I have my whole life ahead of me, and I intend to make the most of it! I don't know what will happen in the next few years, but I am excited about what could happen!
Okay, sorry for the random side note. I need to get back to the party. The ice has melted in my drink...I hate when a good drink is all watered down.
All I can hear is, "What kind of pizza do you want? What kind of pizza do you want??!!! My equilibrium! What kind of pizza do you want?! I will not stop spinning until you order the pizza....and all the while my socks are green and argyle."
Tuesday, March 15, 2005
Maybe Mike has a point...
So, another Spring Break has passed me by...back to school. I can honestly say that this semester is by far the worst in my collegiate career. The sheer crapiness of it all is not due to my classes, though they pretty much suck; it is due to my incredible apathy towards almost everything. This complete indifference has come at the absolute worst time, because being in graduate school, my classes are getting more and more difficult, and I am caring less and less. Anyone can see...this is not a good combination.
I was feeling bad about my apathy, trying to give myself motivational pep-talks, kicking the seat of my pants...all to no avail. I accomplished several small goals, but none of the big ones that I wanted to finish over Spring Break. When I feel unmotivated, I feel lazy. When I feel lazy, I feel kind of crappy because laziness, at least growing up under my parents' roof, was in no way tolerated. I knew I needed to work harder, but why? I mean, one day last week my options were either: a) Study for my 17th century literature exam or 2) Watch a Project Runway marathon on Bravo. Which one would you have chosen? The decision was easy: Project Runway, a show I had never seen, but immediately was hooked on. I am a horrible graduate student. How has this transition, this utter attitude of anything comes before school, occurred?
I needed reassurance. I needed someone to tell me that being completely burned out is okay, that is happens to everyone. I needed someone to "second my emotion", if you will. Then, as if the voice of someone higher up, someone unknown, was speaking to me...the message came. Sent to me in the form of two consecutive bottle caps. On the inside of the caps from two bottles of Mike's Hard Lime was the message I needed to hear. Two words I had been thinking about all Spring Break.
Oh, Mike...what have I done without your wisdom and reassurance? Why write?! You are on to something buddy! Why do I write? Why do I do this to myself? The answer is simple and it took me all Spring Break to come up with it in succinct terms. I don't do all of this crap for present Melia. Right now it all sucks. Right now I just want to put my books down and have cocktails with Ashley or hang out with my family or see my friends. Instead I do the homework and the papers and the late nights up studying, and why? For future Melia. So that when I am looking for a job in a year and it says, "Masters preferable" (as many positions I have looked at do), I can say, "Hey...I have one of those. The worked sucked, but I have one." And maybe...the extra money I come into by having a MA will make up for the excruciating amounts of reading I have to do. Probably not...but maybe. So, future Melia...here's to you, and the possibility of a better job than present Melia could ever find.
I was feeling bad about my apathy, trying to give myself motivational pep-talks, kicking the seat of my pants...all to no avail. I accomplished several small goals, but none of the big ones that I wanted to finish over Spring Break. When I feel unmotivated, I feel lazy. When I feel lazy, I feel kind of crappy because laziness, at least growing up under my parents' roof, was in no way tolerated. I knew I needed to work harder, but why? I mean, one day last week my options were either: a) Study for my 17th century literature exam or 2) Watch a Project Runway marathon on Bravo. Which one would you have chosen? The decision was easy: Project Runway, a show I had never seen, but immediately was hooked on. I am a horrible graduate student. How has this transition, this utter attitude of anything comes before school, occurred?
I needed reassurance. I needed someone to tell me that being completely burned out is okay, that is happens to everyone. I needed someone to "second my emotion", if you will. Then, as if the voice of someone higher up, someone unknown, was speaking to me...the message came. Sent to me in the form of two consecutive bottle caps. On the inside of the caps from two bottles of Mike's Hard Lime was the message I needed to hear. Two words I had been thinking about all Spring Break.
Oh, Mike...what have I done without your wisdom and reassurance? Why write?! You are on to something buddy! Why do I write? Why do I do this to myself? The answer is simple and it took me all Spring Break to come up with it in succinct terms. I don't do all of this crap for present Melia. Right now it all sucks. Right now I just want to put my books down and have cocktails with Ashley or hang out with my family or see my friends. Instead I do the homework and the papers and the late nights up studying, and why? For future Melia. So that when I am looking for a job in a year and it says, "Masters preferable" (as many positions I have looked at do), I can say, "Hey...I have one of those. The worked sucked, but I have one." And maybe...the extra money I come into by having a MA will make up for the excruciating amounts of reading I have to do. Probably not...but maybe. So, future Melia...here's to you, and the possibility of a better job than present Melia could ever find.
Tuesday, March 08, 2005
Upon realizing how much homework I have over Spring Break...
Today I was sitting at my computer and thought, maybe I should be a diligent student and look at what important projects are coming up when I get back to classes on Monday. Maybe I can get ahead. I am sure there are some things I need to catch up on...it shouldn't be too bad.
At first I was distraught over my syllabi. Two exams, one presentation, and several papers were staring back at me, taunting me, saying, "Melia, there are only 24 hours in a day. You will never get caught up. You have been lazy this semester. You could fail. You will be a grad school drop out." I yelled back, "Shut up stupid syllabi!", and because I was so discouraged I could only think of lame rebuttals. I chose the first one that came to mind, "Your mom could fail!"
I probably cried for an hour, at least, when I realized how long McTeague is. Frank Norris has it out for me and my Spring Break. Over 240 pages of Naturalism; now doesn't that sound appealing? I cried some more.
I was already upset and feeling dramatic, so I began reciting one of Helena's monologues from Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream..."O spite! O hell! I see you all are bent!" I think it really adds to the dramatic effect if you place your hand strategically across your forehead like this. Try it out for yourself.
I was so wrapped up in the delivery of Helena's monologue that I got sidetracked. Upon realizing why I was upset in the first place, I began crying again. This time I made up my own monologue..."O Thompson! O Brunner! I see you all are out to make my Spring Break suck!" I looked over to McTeague sitting on my desk. I open the cover. My bookmark is on page 82. A flood of tears overtook me.
"Okay", I said, "Let's get practical." I began thinking of all of my possible options. I could break down the remaining pages of McTeague and divide them by how many days remain in the break; that way it wouldn't seem so overwhelming. I could write down achievable goals for each day, i.e. make outline for 17th Century Lit. exam, read over notes from American novel for upcoming exam, etc. Or I could forget about all of this and go out for a cheeseburger with Ashley.
I didn't think making a decision would be so difficult. I don't like having all of this unfinished work hanging over my head. I am really torn. Staying in and reading 200 pages of sheer, utter boredom, or going out...boredom or freedom? Whatever shall I do?!
I thought about it...weighed my options...and made a final decision. This entire process occurred in less than 3 seconds.
Cheeseburgers it is! Maybe if I pretend that I never saw all I have to do, I won't feel so guilty blowing it off. If it's true that what we don't know can't hurt us, and ignorance is bliss...maybe by not doing my school work I will not be affected in any negative way, maybe I will even be happier! I like this line of reasoning.
Now...on to more important decisions. Where should we go for our burger?!
At first I was distraught over my syllabi. Two exams, one presentation, and several papers were staring back at me, taunting me, saying, "Melia, there are only 24 hours in a day. You will never get caught up. You have been lazy this semester. You could fail. You will be a grad school drop out." I yelled back, "Shut up stupid syllabi!", and because I was so discouraged I could only think of lame rebuttals. I chose the first one that came to mind, "Your mom could fail!"
I probably cried for an hour, at least, when I realized how long McTeague is. Frank Norris has it out for me and my Spring Break. Over 240 pages of Naturalism; now doesn't that sound appealing? I cried some more.
I was already upset and feeling dramatic, so I began reciting one of Helena's monologues from Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream..."O spite! O hell! I see you all are bent!" I think it really adds to the dramatic effect if you place your hand strategically across your forehead like this. Try it out for yourself.
I was so wrapped up in the delivery of Helena's monologue that I got sidetracked. Upon realizing why I was upset in the first place, I began crying again. This time I made up my own monologue..."O Thompson! O Brunner! I see you all are out to make my Spring Break suck!" I looked over to McTeague sitting on my desk. I open the cover. My bookmark is on page 82. A flood of tears overtook me.
"Okay", I said, "Let's get practical." I began thinking of all of my possible options. I could break down the remaining pages of McTeague and divide them by how many days remain in the break; that way it wouldn't seem so overwhelming. I could write down achievable goals for each day, i.e. make outline for 17th Century Lit. exam, read over notes from American novel for upcoming exam, etc. Or I could forget about all of this and go out for a cheeseburger with Ashley.
I didn't think making a decision would be so difficult. I don't like having all of this unfinished work hanging over my head. I am really torn. Staying in and reading 200 pages of sheer, utter boredom, or going out...boredom or freedom? Whatever shall I do?!
I thought about it...weighed my options...and made a final decision. This entire process occurred in less than 3 seconds.
Cheeseburgers it is! Maybe if I pretend that I never saw all I have to do, I won't feel so guilty blowing it off. If it's true that what we don't know can't hurt us, and ignorance is bliss...maybe by not doing my school work I will not be affected in any negative way, maybe I will even be happier! I like this line of reasoning.
Now...on to more important decisions. Where should we go for our burger?!
Thursday, March 03, 2005
Spend the afternoon. You can't take it with you...
A quote from Annie Dillard.
So, the other day my mother was talking to me about something my grandmother recently said. The basic idea behind what she was saying is that she has come to an age where if she doesn't like something, she's not going to do it. If she doesn't want something, she is going to get rid of it. If something is complicated or not worth her time, it's over. Okay, so my thoughts on this are: If we have to come to a certain age to become this way, doesn't this mean we have spent like, I don't know, sixty years of our lives doing things we never wanted to do in the first place, having things in our lives that we don't even want, and working our way through complicated issues that end up not being worth it? Why do we do this to ourselves? Fr. Alfred D'Souza says:
For a long time it had seemed to me that life was about to begin-- real life. But there was always some obstacle in the way. Something to be got through first, some unfinished business, time still to be served, a debt to be paid. Then life would begin. At last it dawned on me that these obstacles were my life.
Forget that. I don't want to wait for my life to begin after I make it through finals or after I get a real job or after I get married, etc. This is real life. You only live once. You are making the bed you have to lie in...etcetera, etcetera. I always think about people I have talked to who are working, in relationships (I am not downplaying relationships, I am just saying the people who have relayed these stories to me are in relationships), following the same routine, the same rigmarole everyday, and there comes a point when they wake up, look in the mirror and say, "Is this it? Is this life?" I am going to work my hardest to never come to that realization. Life should be exciting, adventurous! My great-grandfather once said, "If you are not growing and learning everyday, you might as well be dead." I concur. Carpe diem my friends. Why does it take the process of aging to come to the point where we say, "Hey, I am going to live every day the way I want to live it. I am not going to do anything that I don't really want to do." Let's say it now, today. I mean, barring school, I am going to try my best to live my life this way. I have a feeling it lessens regrets, and you have a hell of a lot more fun.
Warning by Jenny Joseph
When I am an old woman I shall wear purple
With a red hat which doesn't go, and doesn't suit me.
And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves
And satin sandals, and say we've no money for butter.
I shall sit down on the pavement when I'm tired
And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells
And run my stick along the public railings
And make up for the sobriety of my youth.
I shall go out in my slippers in the rain
And pick the flowers in other people's gardens
And learn to spit.
You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat
And eat three pounds of sausages at a go
Or only bread and pickle for a week
And hoard pens and pencils and beermats and things in boxes.
But now we must have clothes that keep us dry
And pay our rent and not swear in the street
And set a good example for the children.
We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.
But maybe I ought to practice a little now?
So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised
When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple.
So, the other day my mother was talking to me about something my grandmother recently said. The basic idea behind what she was saying is that she has come to an age where if she doesn't like something, she's not going to do it. If she doesn't want something, she is going to get rid of it. If something is complicated or not worth her time, it's over. Okay, so my thoughts on this are: If we have to come to a certain age to become this way, doesn't this mean we have spent like, I don't know, sixty years of our lives doing things we never wanted to do in the first place, having things in our lives that we don't even want, and working our way through complicated issues that end up not being worth it? Why do we do this to ourselves? Fr. Alfred D'Souza says:
For a long time it had seemed to me that life was about to begin-- real life. But there was always some obstacle in the way. Something to be got through first, some unfinished business, time still to be served, a debt to be paid. Then life would begin. At last it dawned on me that these obstacles were my life.
Forget that. I don't want to wait for my life to begin after I make it through finals or after I get a real job or after I get married, etc. This is real life. You only live once. You are making the bed you have to lie in...etcetera, etcetera. I always think about people I have talked to who are working, in relationships (I am not downplaying relationships, I am just saying the people who have relayed these stories to me are in relationships), following the same routine, the same rigmarole everyday, and there comes a point when they wake up, look in the mirror and say, "Is this it? Is this life?" I am going to work my hardest to never come to that realization. Life should be exciting, adventurous! My great-grandfather once said, "If you are not growing and learning everyday, you might as well be dead." I concur. Carpe diem my friends. Why does it take the process of aging to come to the point where we say, "Hey, I am going to live every day the way I want to live it. I am not going to do anything that I don't really want to do." Let's say it now, today. I mean, barring school, I am going to try my best to live my life this way. I have a feeling it lessens regrets, and you have a hell of a lot more fun.
Warning by Jenny Joseph
When I am an old woman I shall wear purple
With a red hat which doesn't go, and doesn't suit me.
And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves
And satin sandals, and say we've no money for butter.
I shall sit down on the pavement when I'm tired
And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells
And run my stick along the public railings
And make up for the sobriety of my youth.
I shall go out in my slippers in the rain
And pick the flowers in other people's gardens
And learn to spit.
You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat
And eat three pounds of sausages at a go
Or only bread and pickle for a week
And hoard pens and pencils and beermats and things in boxes.
But now we must have clothes that keep us dry
And pay our rent and not swear in the street
And set a good example for the children.
We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.
But maybe I ought to practice a little now?
So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised
When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple.
Tuesday, March 01, 2005
A thousand moments. They're like a bag of tiny diamonds glittering in a black heart...
"The sky, what color is it? And the way a hawk flies? Or when you wake up and your ribs are bruised thinking on something, somebody so hard. What do you call that?" -- Cold Mountain
I woke up Monday morning with bruised ribs, or what feel like bruised ribs...I am no doctor. When I sat up out of bed the soreness hit me, and this quote surfaced in my mind and I thought, "What do you call that?" I know that you can physically break your ribs laughing, or as my friend Ashley did falling off of a bicycle, but can deep emotion, repetitive thoughts, or intense dreams take a physical toll on your body? It seems like they should be able to. It seems that when we are mentally exhausted from our thought-lives, our bodies should be battered and bruised as well.
I woke up Monday morning with bruised ribs, or what feel like bruised ribs...I am no doctor. When I sat up out of bed the soreness hit me, and this quote surfaced in my mind and I thought, "What do you call that?" I know that you can physically break your ribs laughing, or as my friend Ashley did falling off of a bicycle, but can deep emotion, repetitive thoughts, or intense dreams take a physical toll on your body? It seems like they should be able to. It seems that when we are mentally exhausted from our thought-lives, our bodies should be battered and bruised as well.
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