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Friday, October 17, 2003

Mail
She’s training to become the next Audrey, spending ample time in the rain practicing her whimsical walk and hopeful smile. The neighbors will glance out of their windows occasionally, but for the most part the shades remain drawn.
On this particular day the forecast was sunny and eightysix when the phone began to ring in the flat upstairs. She rolled over in her bed and covered her ears, cursing the thin walls. The elastic band of her silk sleep mask snapped.
And so she awoke, not with the cute yawn and stretch routine, but with an angry mark stretching across the back of her scalp. Cheap candy bars and pears were in order for breakfast.
As she peeled back the foil wrapper she thought that perhaps today wasn’t her day. And she sighed a contented sigh and began to ponder. The notebook sat doodled upon in front of her, and Tuesday’s newspaper somewhere beyond that.
When the UPS guy knocked on her door, she signed for the package without so much as a “Hi, Marvin.” There were too many online purchases not to know Marvin well, and he knew her, but they mutually preferred not to discuss their knowledge.
Marvin was too embarrassed to acknowledge a girl that practiced her own smile anyways.
She didn’t bother to unwrap the package. She knew what it contained—satin ribbons and some hand cream. Once a month, she would buy satin ribbons and hand cream, and left them all sitting in a special corner.
As she logged on into her own world, she was alerted that she had mail.
> 10 Roses for You
> You are receiving these roses because you are a special person! Each rose symoblizes a special wish from me to you.
> One Rose for Long Friendship
> @}>---->-----
> One Rose for Unconditional Love
> @}>---->-----
> One Rose For Financial Wealth
> @}>---->-----
> One for Everlasting Happiness
> @}>---->-----
> One for Success
> @}>---->-----
> One for Knowledge
> @}>---->-----
> One for Beauty, inner and outer
> @}>---->-----
> One for Family
> @}>---->-----
> One for Honesty
> @}>---->-----
> And the last one for a long and healthy life
> @}>---->-----
> For every friend you send these roses to, your wish will come one month sooner
> This is a friend test. Send this to as many friends as you possibly can especially the person that sent to you and if you get it back, you truly will know who your friends are.
> You have 30 seconds start.
> If you send this to 2 people - it will come true in a year
> 5 people - in 3 months
> 7 people - in 1 month
> 10 people - in a week
> 15 or more- tomorrow
As she read the message, a small smile began to creep across her lips. She indeed had a wish.
And so she clicked the forward button with a flick of her bitten nail and sent the message on its way to three people— god@yahoo.net, hepburn@aol.com, and to herself.
She's heard that such things don't work anyway, and Wednesday's paper is on the way.

Fresh squeezed by melly at 9:25 PM

Thursday, October 16, 2003

In A New York Minute
Call me a snob, but does the fact that even Ashton Kutcher has phased out the trucker hats get to Michiganians? The fad has been poo-bahhed for a year in New York, and it's just now making its midwest debut.

Fresh squeezed by melly at 5:06 PM

Monday, October 13, 2003

i'm heaven-sent, don't you dare forget
When I was younger, I used to have a dress-up box. It probably came from some low-end department store as a Christmas present, and it was filled with pink frilly skirts and magic wands and wedding veils.
I would smear some intoxicating fruit lip gloss of the under-ten party favor variety on my lips and smash rings onto my short, squat fingers. I would then proceed to look at myself in the mirror for fifteen-minute intervals, trying to see what I would look like with my smile cocked a bit more to the left with my eyes staring a bit more distantly through the looking glass.
My mother would laugh and tell my grandparents over the telephone. I would hear her and pout in front of the mirror.
When I was eleven, I went to drama camp over the summer. The play we put on was "Oklahoma." I was an awkward child, with glasses and freckles and a cracking voice. I was cast as a "friend." I delivered one line, which I still remember to this day--"C'mon, everybody, look over here!"
"Melly's Folly" is the term I have dubbed my boneheaded act to sign up for Forensics class this year. Forensics is basically acting, but with one person and no props.
I chose a piece from the Grapes of Wrath, much to everyone in the class's dissapointment.
"Can't you do anything else besides a southern accent?" they ask.
And I will shake my head.
So as I stand in front of them all, looking directly into the eyes of The Boy I Love and asking him to buy a cheap jalopy so he can get the hell to California, I falter. I do not want everyone to look over here. A lift of the eyebrows, a twitch of the lips--I've just looked so past the mirror that I can't see it anymore. . I don't want them to acknoledge that I am acting. To do so would corrupt how I get up every morning.
Sometimes I wonder if they know I'm acting every single minute of my life.

i'm heaven sent, don't you dare forget. i am all you ever wanted, what all the other boys all promise. i'm sorry i told; i just needed you to know. i think in decimals and dollars. i am the cause of all your problems; shelter from cold. we are never alone. coordinate brain to mouth and then ask me what it's like to have myself figured out. i wish i knew.
i want this song to start a craze; the kind of song that ignites the airwaves. The kind of song that makes people gald to bewhere they are, with whomever they're there with. This is war. Every line is about who i don't want to write about anymore. Hope you come down with something they can't diagnose, don't have the cure for. Holding on to your grudge, it's hard to find someone to love. Keeping quiet is hard, 'cause you can't keep a secret if it wasn't a secret to start...at least pretend you didn't want to get caught.
We're concentrating, I'm falling apart. We were contenders, now we're throwing the fight. I just want to believe in us.
Oh we're so controversial.
We are entirely smooth. We admit to the truth we are the best at what we do, and these are the words you wish you wrote down, and this is the way you wish your voice sounds. Handsome and smart. My tongue's the only muscle in my body that works harder than my heart, and it's all from watching tv and from speeding up my breathing. I wouldn't stop if I could, oh it hurts to be this good.
-Ok I Believe You, But My Tommy Gun Don't--Brand New

Fresh squeezed by melly at 6:10 PM

Sunday, October 12, 2003

And Things of That Nature
If, ever in your life, you realize sadly that a close friend has never heard of Saturday Night Live, let alone ever seen it (heaven forbid), then it is your duty to expose them to it. I'm not saying that SNL is, like, the best show ever dood!, but it's right up there on the primo pop culture list. You have to see it once or twice, at least, to be a well-rounded person.
When exposing said friend to the wonders of SNL, you should take time to explain to them the members of the cast. Not just current members, but the older ones as well--Chris Farley, Dana Carvey, Bill Murray, Molly Shannon, Gilda Radner, Julia Sweeney----hell, even Al Franken. You might take time to discuss the pretense of the show, the purpose of the different sketches. So I did this all, as was my friendly duty, last night. Apparently, however, I missed a crucial part of SNL in my lesson plan:
HiLpiL02: i'm gonna watch snl tonite again!
SweetCitroelle: uh....it's not on tonight.
SweetCitroelle: SATURDAY night live
HiLpiL02: o
HiLpiL02: no way
HiLpiL02: o
HiLpiL02: i feel dumb
SweetCitroelle: yeah. we all get that sometimes.

Fresh squeezed by melly at 9:29 PM