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Thursday, August 07, 2003

It's Me; Melly
Dear God,
Hi. I'm Melly. And I'm leaving for a family vacation today in Seattle.
Please keep us safe. I'm not scared of airplanes or any of that shit, to be honest, I find the thought of venturing into the hometown of overpriced coffee to be more fear-inducing than any 9/11 repeats. But please, Lord, protect us from boredom and spite and hatred and other things that fester in small hotel rooms over the period of 6 days.
Oh, and I really am sorry about pouncing on my sister today after she had gone 24 hours without sleep. It wasn't very nice. I should have realized what she was going through. I mean, I'm the one that watched Children Of The Corn last night, and while it was a laughable movie, it kept me awake into the wee hours of the ayy emm.
By the way, thanks for that. It was nice to unravel with friends and eat lots of white chocolate macadamia nut cookies.
Anyway, I'll be the one with the rave-like light-up earring on my ear, beaming colored messages of hope. It's supposed to be on my bellybutton, but I find it uncomfortable.
Love,
Melly

Fresh squeezed by melly at 3:49 PM

Wednesday, August 06, 2003

Role Model
The little girl made a friend in her bus-mate, Jenny. So the girl went to Jenny's house and they played with Jenny's dog, Lucy. Lucy was all the entertainment that the two little girls needed; live animals are an endless source of intruige to six year olds.
The little girl had only known one other dog in her life, and that was Lizzy. Lizzy was her Aunt Jenny's dog, and a noble beast it was. And so the little girl lived happily in her small world of dogs and Jennys, and that was that.
"Boys are icky", said the little girl one day. "I don't ever want to get married."
"But why?" asked Jenny.
"'Cause my aunt's not married, andd I want to be just like her when I grow up." And that was a true statement, all of it, because nine year old girls don't understand cliche enough to merely mimic it, they must really and truly want and believe it.
That year at Christmas, Aunt Jenny told the little girl, "Marylynn and I have been best friends since we were in the third grade." And as the little girl smiled at the blonde that had always been sitting next to her Aunt Jenny, she picked out in her mind her own bestest friend and decided to hang on to Jenny for dear life so that she, too, could have a lifelong friend just like Aunt Jenny.
A year later Aunt Jenny left the little girl to go see the world. Both drifted. Aunt Jenny went to Amsterdam and Mexico City to live; the little girl went to France to play. The little girl, too, wanted to see the world and leave her home just like Aunt Jenny.
As the girl got older, she began to realize that Aunt Jenny was never in style. Aunt Jenny is always the style of 2 summers in the future. The little girl would think her aunt's capris hilarious. "Aunt Jenny!" she giggled. "Your pants are too short!" 2 years later, the little girl spotted a pair of capris in a store and wore them in ode to her beloved aunt. But by that time, Aunt Jenny's pair was no where to be seen. This did not bother the little girl, however, and aunt and niece continued to tease each other as family does.
The little girl's classmates, however, had still not discovered capris. "Your pants are too short!" they proclaimed. This did bother the girl, because they were not family and not allowed to tease. And Jenny, the friend, became Jenny, the former friend. This did make the girl sad, if only for the reason that she would no longer have a best friend since third grade as Aunt Jenny did.
Aunt Jenny seemed to discover boys the same time the little girl did. Aunt Jenny had Bradley and spent many a night wondering about marriage, and the little girl had Louis and spent many a night wondering if she should go to the school dance with him. They would talk in different circles about their respective somebodys, but the little girl felt a special grown-up bond with her aunt.
Years passed. Aunt Jenny was still wondering about Bradley, but the little girl wondered about guitars. And so, in good family duty fashion, Aunt Jenny gave the little girl her first guitar lesson. She hadn't played in years. Aunt Jenny and the girl both took real guitar lessons afterwards.
Some time later Aunt Jenny resigned from her job in Mexico City, to flee the school she taught at and to flee Bradley. She stopped wondering about marriage and started wondering what to do next. So she flew back home to Minnesota, where she is always cold.
The little girl took a walk with Aunt Jenny and Marylynn and Lizzy that summer, down a lake path with pretty cottage houses.
"I could tolerate living in Minnesota if I could live in that house." said Aunt Jenny, pausing at a For Sale sign. "There's even enough room in the backyard to keep a pony. I've always wanted a pony."
The little girl did not question this, because Aunt Jenny was always slightly weird. This was what made her endearing.
"But what will you do?" asked the little girl, for this was something that needed to be questioned.
"I'll get a job, I suppose."
And the little girl looked at Marylynn, wondering if the best friend would accept this as an answer. Marylynn didn't seem to notice. The little girl decided not to press the question further.
"Come along, Lizard Butt." said Aunt Jenny nonchalantly to the dog, who was still sniffing the for sale sign. Lizzy was as old as the little girl, which made her a very old dog indeed. The little girl now admired the dog not as a plaything, but as family. They were, after all, sort of cousins.
They walked in silence for awhile.
"What are you going to do, Mellyhead?" Aunt Jenny suddenly asked.
"Go to Columbia and major in journalisim." replied the little girl automatically, giving her aunt as much information as her aunt had given her. This was funny, because Aunt Jenny was the only extended family member the little girl felt that she could probably talk to, but she never actually did.
"That's good." said Aunt Jenny, "That's what I should have done."
And the little girl tried to contain her smile because she knew that this was a somewhat somber time.
Aunt Jenny came to visit the little girl a few weeks later in much better spirits. She noticed things she hadn't before.
"Holy crap!" she exclaimed, with a weird sort of Minnesota-Amsterdam-Mexico City lilt to her voice. She never stayed in one place long enough to aqquire the full accent. "You've sprouted!"
And the little girl's parents smile, as if it's some sort of accomplishment to merely grow, and the little girl and Aunt Jenny are obliged to stand back-to-back to see who's taller. A book is placed on their heads and a marble on top.
The marble falls in front of the little girl's face and hits the floor.
"Ha!" screeches Aunt Jenny, "You haven't caught up to me yet!" And she raises herself up to her full five foot eleven height, brushing her light brown hair out of her round hazel eyes. The little girl looked at Aunt Jenny as if she was a mirror.
No, the little girl had not caught up to her Aunt Jenny yet. She probably never would. But she sure as hell would try.

Fresh squeezed by melly at 8:42 AM

Tuesday, August 05, 2003

A Little Off The Front
I got a haircut yesterday.
Nobody noticed, and that's fine.
The lady that cut it had really bad hair. I wanted Tiana, but she was busy. I'm always leery of hairdressers with bad hair. Maybe it's an unfair judgement to make, but there it stands.

Fresh squeezed by melly at 2:39 PM

Monday, August 04, 2003

Letters From A Cashew
Dear Jones Soda Company (property of Sooper Dooper Soda, Inc)
I know ya gotta make a living somehow, and I applaud that. I applaud your green apple and your fufu berry, and while I'm not too keen on the blue bubble gum, I totally dig the whole glass-bottle-with-cool-labels-with-fortune-on-bottom-of-cap packaging shebang. I have been a faithful consumer of your product, buying two four-packs a week of your delicious drink concoction. However, if you continue to raise your prices as you have been, so that my brilliant sugar stand-by is now exhorbiantly priced at twelve clams per four-pack, then I will have to take my caffiene needs elsewhere (a la Red Bull?).
Your Best, Yet Outraged Customer,
Melly

Dear Cutely Dorky Girl That Came Up To Me At The Grocery Store As I Was Openmouthed About The Jones Soda Disaster,
While I am deeply touched that you are psyched that we both have the same Honors Modern American History class second period first semester, I cannot truly say that I, too, am psyched. Quite frankly, I'm leaning more towards a "how the hell do you know my class list already" reaction. Just so I can make this more clear for you, I'll explain in a simple list form.
Things That Get Me Psyched:
-Jimmy Fallon--Listening to good music--Being the first to take a chunk out of a new tub of margarine--Volleyball games--International flights with TVs on the backs of the seats
Things That Do Not Get Me Psyched:
-Ant Farms--Playing 'do you know the muffin man' on classical instruments--Roseanne--Canadian curling matches--Stalkers (aka you)
I'm a bit worried that this makes me into one of those snotty, stereotypical girls that is somewhat mean to the dorks until the dork gets her life made into an award-winning movie. But for what it's worth, I did call you "cutely dorky" because I will acknowledge that your freckles are better than mine.
Truthfully, Though Not Affectionately Yours,
Melly

Fresh squeezed by melly at 8:13 AM