I was cold. And being yelled at for wanting a mere Kit-Kat bar. These combined circumstances called for the ultimate in soothing tools- a hot bath and Electronic Hand-Held Yahtzee.
You may underestimate the power of a hot bath. You may scoff at the patheticness of Electronic Hand-Held Yahtzee. But believe you me, these forces are something to be reckoned with. The bath combats the cold, of course, and there is something strangely comforting in jabbing random buttons. Roll the "dice" 3 times...yay, 3 6's. Another meaningless high score for me.
Afterwards, I got myself a bar o' chocolate.
Fresh squeezed by melly at 7:55 PM
There are now three inches of snow on the ground, more falling as I write. I have nothing on my feet.
Mom brought home some rotisserie chicken from the grocery store for lunch. I couldn't eat it. I kept having a vision of it walking around, and me delving into its muscle tissue. I have an overactive imagination, I guess.
Fresh squeezed by melly at 1:32 PM
Friday, November 29, 2002
Watching U2 on TV can be a very entertaining thing, as long as you don't mind the constant slo-mo shots of Bono (usually with spit flying out of his mouth- very unnerving). Actually, perhaps the spit adds to the entertainment. There are also some sort of inflatable liquor bottles being passed around in the audience. I don't understand. The audience cheers louder whenever the bright stage lights come on. Perhpas they are thinking, "Oh, hurray, now my retinas are burning! I won't have to look at Bono ever again!" What kind of name is Bono, anyway?
Speaking of names, the lead guitarist looks totally like a "David". What is he thinking, going by the name of "Edge"?
Fresh squeezed by melly at 10:38 PM
During a drive to the bank to deposit my weekly babysitting earnings (via two Disney Princess cheques- Cinderella and Snow White), my mother decided to talk about Oprah. More specifically, she chose to say how Oprah thinks the Williams twins are just swell. "Oh, they're just so sweet to each other! And they're not embarrassed of their father, and they really care about their family. The media paints SUCH a negative picture of them, but it's really undeserved...yada. Yada."
When asked exactly why she was telling me this, she shrugged. At this moment my favorite song on the radio ended. My mother continued to be quiet during the commercials for deoderant and a nightclub.
How unexplicably evil.
Fresh squeezed by melly at 3:15 PM
My parakeet, Chirp, has an aggressive stance towards flying up the stairs. This may be due to his really uncreative name, or this may be due to the fact that he has no brain to determine that his name is uncreative. Whatever. Nevertheless, I woke up this morning to see Chirp sitting on the kitchen table.
"No, no, Chirp" I calmly explained. "You belong in your cage. In the basement. The basement is for budgies. This is why both words start with a 'B'".
And with this, Chirp bit me on my nose nonchalantly, and then went back to nipping at the newspaper. I have got to teach him the alphabet.
Fresh squeezed by melly at 11:03 AM
Wednesday, November 27, 2002
Happy thanksgiving. A WHOLE DAY EARLY. You're welcome.
Things I am thankful for: My teddy bear, my family, my internet connection, my pet parakeet, and the food that I have to eat whenever I please (namely, veggie burgers and other items that do not contain the bovine species. oh, and waffles.)
I finished my Christmas shopping today. I got a Foxtrot desk calender for my sister, a sweater for my dad, and some body lotions for my mom. And a puffy vest and jewelry for myself. Spread the joy. Granted, I felt a little dirty doing Christmas-y things before Thanksgiving....but it's best to beat the rush, I suppose. Rush=globs of bad pop music. I'm sure there's a connection somewhere.
Why do some people slice their pickles the long way? Just a pondering.
Fresh squeezed by melly at 8:00 PM
Tuesday, November 26, 2002
Googlism for: Melly
melly is downright scary good sometimesmelly is a crack homelly is a retired greyhound racermelly is heremelly is offline registeredmelly is your banditmelly is sexymelly is my friendmelly is trusted by 23 membersmelly is well known for her work as a writermelly is softer and easier to pronouncemelly is austin's dogmelly is the essecne of webgoddessmelly is number 5 in the shizo selection box that is mr melvinmelly is the missing character from the mystery men and her special super powermelly is active in her church and refuses to let her illness keep her from teaching every summer at the yosemite bible campmelly is the former mayor and city commissioner of haysmelly is a mild formulation enriched with natural honeymelly is one of the sweetestmelly is luckier than mostmelly is a fine hand builder of custom steelmelly is uniquemelly is joe's meller's chameleonmelly is a very odd duckmelly is a singermelly is madmelly is a highly successful entrepreneurmelly is one funky chickmelly is right you have a great smilemelly is sent to a new type of mixed barracks to whip the menmelly is a unique attraction in the jazz world together with her feetwarmersmelly is a welsh mountain pony we have on loan as a companion for chancemelly is assistant editor of the london newsletter africa analysismelly is a corect filly in every way with a great body and a nice headmelly is tearing through heremelly is waiting for them on top of the wellmelly is the starmelly is one of the most idealistic people i knowmelly is included in the festival linemelly is dead
melly is going throughmelly is the person you care most about
Alright, so I know some of them are boring. Blame the other Mellys of the world, not me. Heck, I should form a coalition. "If Your Name is Melly, then Why the Heck Aren't You Interesting?" We could chant things like "We're Melly, we're smelly, and we want your grape jelly." Of course, there might be some legal issues with this.
Fresh squeezed by melly at 8:49 PM
Words of Wisdom
-Eating an entire jalepeno is not a smart thing to do. They may look like innocent, disfigured bell peppers, but your curiosity will not be rewarded. You have been warned.
-Also, never overestimate the actions of a large group. They may just leave you lost in a university library. 'Friggin rare book room.
-Never fall for someone that leaves in you previously mentioned library.
-Gaining a small incision on your right thumb due to the edge of a can makes it very difficult to set a volleyball. Actually, setting volleyballs is difficult anyway, but it's always tops to have an excuse. Preferably if it has blood involved.
-Never let a bird of little brain loose in unfamiliar territory. It might start flying into walls, thereby decreasing its already low mentality.
Fresh squeezed by melly at 5:00 PM
Monday, November 25, 2002
I have been told that I can't find a voice until I know who I really am.
Things I know about myself:
-I'm thirteen, of the female gender. I'm 5'6, weigh 103 pounds, and shoe size 10. I have straight honey-brown, shoulder length hair that has absolutely no body. My eyes are hazel, and I have freckles covering my face. No freckles mar any other skin on my body, except for the occasional mole on my arm.
-I live with my sister and my parents. My sister is 15 months younger than I. Anna has long, chocolate-brown, ringlets like my mother. She's pale, but has no freckles. My mother's birthday is on April 3, making her 2 months older than my father. She works as a reading helper in an elementary school for secondary income to my father's job as a chemist at Pharmacia (becoming Pfizer). He's tall like me, and has straight light brown hair.
-I'm in the 8th grade. My favorite subject is social studies, even though we're doing American history starting with Columbus for the 5th year in a row. My hardest subject is geometry. I have a 4.0 average. I take an English/writing class at the local university. We're studying American lit. I'm working on a paper comparing various Hawthorne works.
-I'm a vegetarian. This is due to a trip in Wales. We passed through the countryside and saw all the little baby sheep. My mother ordered lamb chops for dinner that night. I also have a cow fetish. Moo.
-I'm Presbyterian. My parents bring me to church every Sunday at 9:30. I wouldn't attend otherwise. There's a pretty stained glass window in the sanctuary, the big kind that takes up a whole wall. Except it's not symmetrical, and it drives me crazy during service every week. Lisa is my Sunday School teacher. She brings us Krispy Kremes. She's also leaving after Christmas break, 'cause I drive her nuts. I'm a bit loud, I suppose. Miriam is the preacher's daughter. She's my age. She looks like me, but she's not loud.
-I like volleyball. I play it at least twice a week off season, every day otherwise. I enjoy playing middleback. My overhand serve needs work. My setting skills are improving. I have a tendancy to "swim" during my approaches. I dislike doing extensions, and am covered in bruises on my hips, back, and shoulders because of this. My knees are often scraped from when my pads slide down.
-I want to become a news anchor, preferably for CNN. Except I don't want to move to Atlanta, so I'll apply for the "International Correspondant" position instead...then my headquarters will be in London. To accomplish this goal, I'll need to go to a good college and perhaps graduate school. I'd like to do so on the East Coast, somewhere.
-I greatly dislike the midwest. I hate the accents, the endless surburbia, the weather. More specifically, I hate Michigan. However, this may just because this is where I've lived all my life, and I need a change.
-My friends are often described as preppy. This is usually said in a bad way. I love them anyway. Furthermore, I dislike how people label others. My friends and I are very different, it's quite unfair to group us all together. I, personally, do not do a great deal with my friends out of school. I prefer to be alone.
-I'm not boy-crazy. I do have hormones. First crush-fifth grade, one year. Latest crush- began in 6th grade. Ended a week ago.
-I spend a great deal of time on the internet. I have cable access. I spend about 2-4 hours a day sitting in this chair. AIM is my main form of communication. I've just recently blocked all people I don't know with few exceptions off my AIM Buddylist. I'm often reading humor sites such as The Onion, Something Awful, and the Realm of Niftyness. I also enjoy reading other's blogs. This is a great site
-My favorite band is currently Matchbox 20. Past favorites include Train and Vanessa Carlton. Eminem is somewhat respectable in his own way. I can't stand country. There's not a decent radio station in my area...all have been enfulged with sugary pop. I've tried writing my own music, but it all came off as sounding horrible after secondary read-throughs. I've been influenced from an early age by my father's music, which mostly consists of Springsteen, Henley, Clapton, and other white male has-beens from the 70s.
-Sweaters are my favorite article of clothing. I own at least 12 of them, in various colors and styles. More generally, I'm a pretty modest dresser. I don't like showy clothing, or anything that makes me feel uncomfortable, physically or otherwise. I own two pairs of sneakers....one of which are those mass-produced Adidas superstar things that are everywhere, and I apologize.
-Orange is a good color.
Fresh squeezed by melly at 3:55 PM
My math teacher is 51. She has a 10 year old adopted daughter from Korea. She has a son, too, who is 14 and mentally disabled. She's been married for 25 years now.
She's the grandmotherly type, with gray corkscrews kept close to the head and little tortoise-shell glasses. She's about 5'6 and is quite svelte (great word. svelte). Her entire body mass is probably somewhere around 130 pounds.
She's a double black belt in tai kwan do.
I just found this out today, and I'm having an ephiphany. What more do I have my life to base on if I can't take for granted that grandmotherly types don't have potentially lethal skills?!
Fresh squeezed by melly at 2:12 PM
So I'm banned from the computer today, because I forgot to pick up a towel. A towel.
Seriously, have you ever heard of anything so stupid? Not to go all valley girl or anything, but it's really sad. My mother needs something better to do with her life than to tell me to pick up towels. If anything, she should be encouraging the act of hygiene (a bath) that caused that towel to end up on my floor. I'm thinking about refusing to bathe and then give her a choice- my stinky self or my stinky towel. I have a feeling she'll choose the towel.
Of course I can't do that, 'cause I don't want to be stinky myself.
Speaking of stinky, stinky is one of those words that when you say it, it conveys meaning. Stink-y. It's kind of a nasal sound...a plugged nasal sound. Like the word itself is unpleasent to the nose.
Suprising suprise of the day: 13 year old boys enjoy spinach fettacini. I wasn't aware of the fact that they could enjoy anything that doesn't come out of a fast-food wrapper/cardboard box. Well, I wasn't aware of the fact that ANYTHING with spinach could be found appetizing, no matter what age or gender, but I suppose life is just funny like that. Funny like being grounded for a wet towel.
Fresh squeezed by melly at 11:25 AM
Sunday, November 24, 2002
Editing posts makes me feel dirty, like I'm changing a part of myself to make it more presentable. And yet edit I must.
It's amazing how someone as uncreative, mass-produced, and just downright ugly as Justin Timberlake can be a preteen sex idol. Wait a minute, it's amazing that preteens HAVE sex idols. All this talk about "innocent childhood" is crap. Crap as in graphic image of a large starved and deranged emu living somewhere in Africa/Australia trying to take a crap crap. I mean, ok, up til you're about 8 you have little or no idea about sex, drugs, ect. And then it's like BANG, Britney Spear's butt is in your face. I think most people would be a bit traumatized, don't you think? But no. People embrace her writhing butt, and try to writhe their own so that they can attract people like Justin Timberlake (or Britmeister herself, depending on your gender/sexual preference).
It's enough to make me want to flee to Africa and/or Australia and help the famished emus. And the cows, of course.
Fresh squeezed by melly at 4:25 PM
Dinner with my grandparents, their nephew, his wife, his son, and the son's girlfriend:
Holy mother of spoot, why me?
Dinner took place at "Arrie's London Cafe", which served appetizing meals such as filet mignon, beef yeager (holstein style!), sirloin steak in some sort of wine sauce, and other wonderful platters that featured the cow race.
I ate a mushroom. In tomato sauce.
Topics discussed at the table was how "Meredith will OF COURSE attend Calvin College, it's the Gage way!" (Thanks for my input, everyone) "Skiing is a much more interesting sport than volleyball, I'm trying out for the national team, yada yada." (I'm skipping practice today because of this) and "I'm Dell certified. I'm so much cooler than that Steve guy." (Whatever floats your boat, Charlie-who-my-grandparents-wish-was-their-grandchild.)
In other news, I got the new Matchbox 20 CD today and it kicks. Butt, ass, donuts, ferrets, hammocks, whatever.
Fresh squeezed by melly at 11:31 AM