tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-63240712011-09-26T10:28:03.026-04:00lavenderoseI thought that I might dream today...Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.comBlogger1961100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1163002186574396652006-11-08T11:00:00.000-05:002006-11-08T11:09:46.636-05:00Babies....The innocence of a young child can envelope your soul. I'm sitting at a table in the back of 2nd Street Bakery in Gainesville, FL, watching the most adorable 12-month-old boy. He has wispy blonde curls and pudgy cheeks and his wide-eyed wonder makes my heart want to laugh and sing. His soft and kissable-looking cheeks, his pudgy limbs, his downy hair, his round face, the innocence and Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1161232575998254872006-10-19T00:21:00.000-04:002006-10-19T00:36:16.043-04:00Once Again...I am up too late. I know it can't be good for my beauty sleep, but I feel this deep, driving urge to get my life in order. That takes priority over the needs of my body.A girlfriend came over tonight. I fed her pot-roast and potatoes. Then, over tall glasses of chocolate milk, we caught each other up on the events of our lives. Totally stoked that she is going to the Eric Clapton Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1160962936634508752006-10-15T21:36:00.000-04:002006-10-15T21:42:16.650-04:00Imagine ThisIssac is wearing long johns. He has big, blue, felt slippers on. He is also wearing a red beanie, and orange visor, a red felt cowboy hat, and a life-vest. He is marching around the house, singing a song about firetrucks. I laugh, realizing that one can never be too ridiculous. Ridiculous is good.Issac has also taken to a new turn of speech. He, very innocently, has been practicingMelissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1158207612265564662006-09-13T23:51:00.000-04:002006-09-14T00:20:12.306-04:00Why Ballet Is *NOT* For Thirty-SomethingsOkay, so I'm not thirty-something, or even close to it. But I might as well be. As a gift to myself, for the past three months I have been taking a weekly ballet class. Actually, it is a private lesson, which means that an entire hour (at first it was 2 hours) of my instructor's time is devoted solely to me, as she to asks me to move my body into Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1156214779219903892006-08-21T22:15:00.000-04:002006-08-21T22:48:23.500-04:00Today I Savored SomethingI would like to take this moment to thank God for the delicious strawberries that Issac and I ate after our dinner tonight. They were the perfect strawberries, the ones I have been searching for all my life--you know the kind, ripe and soft while still being firm, deep deep red, juicy, fragrant, just beautiful, and God knows I haven't enjoyed a strawberry like that in a Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1151707886933374022006-06-30T18:51:00.000-04:002006-08-21T22:14:18.283-04:00The Entire Last YearOne year ago, I started my first "real" job. "Real" as in meaning a job that will not tolerate 30 seconds of morning lateness, "real" as in meaning that they will not tolerate any visible tattoos or body piercings, "real" as in meaning I negotiated a salary, "real" as in meaning I have a manager who "reviews" my performance twice a year. Understandably, during this time, I Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1149760376982988872006-06-08T05:38:00.000-04:002006-06-08T05:52:56.996-04:00I spent last night on a train. This morning, the light streamed in the window at 4:30 am and I turned over on my top bunk and moved the curtain to one side of the window and propped myself up on my elbow and looked out at the countryside. We were about 2 hours from Kyib (Kiev). I stared at the little houses nestled in the countryside, and at the wild roses, and the little gardens that are Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1148323337413886802006-05-22T14:16:00.000-04:002006-05-22T14:42:17.460-04:00No Time For PoetryThere is no poetic way to say any of this, because I don't have any time for poetry these days. Issac is sick with a fever and an ear infection (so says the doctor--I took him in because he has a fever and I need to go to work tomorrow--as if I could hand him to the doctor and say "here, fix him," and then pick him up in an hour good as new. We all know that trips to the doctorMelissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1139480782696009952006-02-09T04:25:00.000-05:002006-03-06T12:06:04.696-05:00Can't SleepSo this is what it has come to. At two in the morning, I woke up. No specific reason. Realized I'd left the lights on (that's 300 Kilowatts and hour! Yikes!). I'd fallen asleep again while putting Issac to bed. Did some quick calculations. Leaving the lights on while falling asleep is costing me big bucks--my electric bill was $241 last month. Well, this really got my mind to thinking Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1138836204961950592006-02-01T18:08:00.000-05:002006-02-01T18:23:25.026-05:00Blah Humbug (Work is taking over my life).I went to Jacksonville today for work, to hit up some car dealerships and build relationships out of territory. I think my jaw actually hurts from talking so much today: talking to my co-worker all the way there and back, and talking to GMs at the dealerships. I did buy a new car, (2005 Honda Civic, Black, 12 miles at purchase), so the trip was fun (Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1137299380036880682006-01-14T22:58:00.000-05:002006-01-29T08:20:52.676-05:00Rediscovering...1. I have been doing some editing work for a woman as a trade for some life-coaching. Fun to rediscover myself and take a look at this exciting position that I am experiencing in my life right now. Feel as though I have come a long way from even two years ago...and so much to look forward to. This has been very refreshing for me.2. Next step is to meet with a counselor from UF Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1135056059168038882005-12-19T23:18:00.000-05:002006-01-14T22:55:39.683-05:00Mental Milkshake** Written weeks ago.My newest anxiety-ridden fear? That Issac has inherited a mental disorder. Seriously--let the case be heard.Imagine this scene:Issac and I come home from a late night with his Aunt Jenn and his Grammy. After work, we all met for dinner at a restuarant and then a little family-time at Jenn's house, where they stuffed him full of cookies and candy and chocolate Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1133932194111469772005-12-06T22:46:00.000-05:002005-12-07T00:09:55.886-05:00 Issac Hates OverallsWhen Issac and I arrived home tonight (after dark, as usual), I tripped over a brightly wrapped package leaning on the door.Issac exclaimed, without really thinking, "Oh boy! A present for me! For my birthday!" With that, he tromped inside and sat down on the floor to play with his toy train.I, however, scratched my head and turned the box over. A tag in girl's handwriting Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1132083673203089772005-11-15T14:25:00.000-05:002005-11-15T14:41:13.253-05:00My Cat Is A Killer*And I have to pick up the pieces. Literally.This morning, when I opened the front door, I almost stepped on the ripped and shredded stomach of a mutilated rabbit. The rabbit's severed and severely chewed head was to my right, his feet further to my right. His carcass was to the left and his tail was straight ahead. I literally had to pick up the pieces of this animal. I Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1130034719928095072005-10-22T21:47:00.000-04:002005-11-10T23:29:01.973-05:00Don't Be a Menace While Smoking Your Cigarettes In the ParkAround 4:00 pm, Z. and I toted the boys down to the local park in Archer. It is not much, just a few play structures under some trees, a swing set, and five tractor tires half-buried in the ground. But it is nearby, and the boys were in desperate need of a structured activity (kids go apes without structure.).I had forewarned Z. that theMelissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1128196746121043162005-10-01T15:51:00.000-04:002005-10-01T15:59:06.126-04:00Growing"We never had tears over broken balloons because, knowing that they would rise when the string was released, our children always wanted to let it go immediately. As parents, we had some trouble adjusting to this. While we secretly lamented the "waste" of our money, the children marveled at the bright, rising thing. After a while they learned to hold onto their balloons a little longer Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1127707052242590532005-09-25T23:06:00.000-04:002005-09-25T23:57:32.283-04:00ListsAbout once a month I get around to doing this--that is, logging on and making an entry. Because I'm overworked (and probably overpaid, as well--last month I did not sell enough to make up for my salary) I will have to make this brief. Here is September's:1. Selling Advertising Does Not Make The World A Better Place: Duh. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if the website had a noble purpose other Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1126114183464252422005-09-07T13:23:00.000-04:002005-09-07T13:29:43.470-04:00It was one of those wrinkled shirt days--she ironed it in the morning, while the boy was eating his cereal at the table, sloshing his milk out of the bowl with a spoon and rubbing it around the placemat. She was careful not to let his grubby hands touch her as she wiped them clean with a wet cloth, or after, as she carried him into his carseat (God knowsthe boy's hands are always dirty). Still, Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1125974650010604692005-09-05T22:20:00.000-04:002005-09-05T22:44:10.016-04:00She wrote down a list of all the rainbows she had ever seen, and kept it in her pocket, crumpled into a soft, worn, ball. There was the rainbow over the meadow, bleeding out of the cool, indigo sky. The sun hit the sides of the horses who were grazing in the meadow there, and gleamed off of their wet, brown sides, making them appear golden. There were the rainbows, much less brilliant and sureMelissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1124417745486171882005-08-18T21:39:00.000-04:002005-08-18T22:17:12.726-04:00Going InsaneIt was really just one of those days. Between trying to keep up with everything at work, and Issac having a doctor's appointment (read 1/3 of my day gone) and then trying to figure out how claims forms work to get money out of my flexible spending account, and then add the fact that with the heat index it was close to 107 degrees outside and I don't have AC and the steering wheel was Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1124080774496439302005-08-15T00:39:00.000-04:002005-08-15T00:39:34.503-04:00Danny on the big bass, or, as Issac calls it, the "really big huge guitar!" There were lots of good pickers there, and my fingers still hurt from jamming. Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1124080624873649252005-08-15T00:37:00.000-04:002005-08-15T00:37:04.876-04:00Another Florida palm tree, and Issac. Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1124080516746303922005-08-15T00:35:00.000-04:002005-08-15T00:35:16.750-04:00What a cheese-ball! Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1124080429060395552005-08-15T00:33:00.000-04:002005-08-15T00:33:49.060-04:00What a big boy! Are you gonna jump? Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1124080336218600182005-08-15T00:32:00.000-04:002005-08-15T00:32:16.223-04:00Self-picture. Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1124080297760268942005-08-15T00:31:00.000-04:002005-08-15T00:31:37.763-04:00Goofing off... Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1124080228718702312005-08-15T00:30:00.000-04:002005-08-15T00:30:28.723-04:00The beggining of the "run" to the river. You can float on your back and let the current carry you along... Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1124080135519236472005-08-15T00:28:00.000-04:002005-08-15T00:28:55.523-04:00Swimming down the run with Izzey on my back...just fifty yards or so to the river. Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1124079979942776102005-08-15T00:26:00.000-04:002005-08-15T00:26:19.946-04:00Here is where the run meets the river. Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1124079916504276842005-08-15T00:25:00.000-04:002005-08-15T00:25:16.503-04:00Issac enjoyed playing on the sandbar near the river. The water turns brown here due to the tannic acid that leaches from the roots of the trees. Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1124079723025005952005-08-15T00:22:00.000-04:002005-08-15T00:22:03.030-04:00A palm tree grows where the spring meets the river. Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1124079455139626592005-08-15T00:17:00.000-04:002005-08-15T00:17:35.143-04:00The cabin was just up the hill..the water was 72 degrees! Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1124081378699263552005-08-14T23:27:00.000-04:002005-08-17T09:04:26.456-04:00Blame It On the BossnovaI title this post such because it was my favorite song played by the musicians who accompanied us to the beautiful little secret spring deep in the Ocala National Forest. Included is a picture of Annie's bass, which made the song a real hit. We all danced on the porch, shaking our hips, holding glasses of wine, singing "Blame it on the bossanova, and its magic spell...Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1123934848728512092005-08-13T07:43:00.000-04:002005-08-13T08:07:31.836-04:00Life's Been Catching Up With Me1. Bathroom Etiquette: In the bathrooms at work, someone has posted signs in all of the stalls that say "PLEASE DO NOT FLUSH WITH YOUR FOOT." This strikes me as absurd, because it is absolutely female protocol to flush with your foot. I've been trying to decide who put the signs up there--I think it was the secretary, because she strikes me as somewhat anal Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1121912354452605132005-07-20T21:56:00.000-04:002005-07-20T22:21:18.943-04:00First DayIt was incredible. One thing I've noticed about most salespeople is that they are funny, enthusiastic, outgoing, and positive. I had a terrific first day, was outfitted with my very own ibook, and took the "grand tour" of the company. The warehouse and press room are astoundingly huge and when I walked through them I felt as though I were in a nuclear submarine--metal everywhere and big,Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1121481448313626922005-07-15T22:07:00.000-04:002005-07-15T22:37:28.323-04:00It's Always Better When We're Together...Today found me hopping and dancing around my mom's house, listening to Jack Johnson and Bebel Gilberto while I was mopping her floors. I'm such a good housesitter. It's been a crazy week and a crazy month, and I'm not writing much these days. The Sans Trash Experiment failed horribly when I had a family emergency and found myself in the hospital with someMelissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1120105025468184972005-06-30T00:05:00.000-04:002005-06-30T00:17:05.480-04:00Something New: A Month Without TrashI want to let you guys know that I'm going forward with my trash "experiment." It will begin on July 1. I'm putting the first post on this blog, but for those of you who want to know more, you will have to click on this link to go to my other blog, which is called Sans Trash: http://www.sanstrash.blogspot.com. For once, I ought to be posting every day. But theMelissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1119330920089459242005-06-21T01:15:00.000-04:002005-06-21T01:15:20.136-04:00Issac and his "girlfriend," Ellie. Holding hands. Being adorable. Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1119134385131056232005-06-18T18:25:00.000-04:002005-06-18T18:39:45.136-04:00Something Big and Something Small...So I started a new job. In sales. Selling. Which is fun when people want to buy, but not fun when people don't. It's fun when I make $500 in one day, but not fun when I go a week without a sale. It's fun when I get to set my own schedule (I've been setting aside a few hours of "me" time every week to hit the gym-- in a few months, I'm gonna look like J-Lo. JustMelissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1117858242282475732005-06-03T23:27:00.000-04:002005-06-04T00:10:42.310-04:00Clouds and BeesIssac and I went on a walk today, and I took lots of pictures. I accidentally erased them, though, later. I will never be able to duplicate those pictures exactly as I saw them. Oh well--it was still good for my soul to look through the lens of a camera and frame beauty.Zhenya, my new roommate, will be moving in tomorrow. I'm thinking of starting a new blog. As though starting a Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1116469469620138972005-05-18T22:17:00.000-04:002005-05-18T22:33:38.896-04:00Very Hard To Do, But Worth It...Placing the juiciest, plumpest, biggest, most purple and perfect blackberry into my mom's mouth instead of my own. This afternoon, Issac, my mom, and I went on a walk and found the very first blackberries of Summer (Spring? Is there even a difference between these two seasons in Florida? Does Summer begin, not in late June, but the first week that the temperature Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1115959530429318282005-05-13T00:31:00.000-04:002005-05-13T00:45:30.440-04:00The Silent OnesI remember the dust on your truck. I remember picking corn, and looking at your knee. I remember grinding the cane, and pouring the juice in the vat. You stirred it with a long stick.Do you remember the skinny girl of eight, with tangled hair and no front teeth?You'd always stick your hand on my bony kneeand say, "This here mule's hungry for some corn."I ran away from you, laughingMelissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1115439011669120942005-05-06T23:08:00.000-04:002005-05-07T00:10:11.823-04:00I'm Going To Talk About My Boobs...After all, they are such a large part (figuratively speaking, of course) of who I am. Superficial as this sounds, it's true. My boobs, small as they may be, are my crowning glory. Frankly, I like them. A lot. And would not ever want to see them go. In my breasts lies my woman-ness, my femininity, my softness and sensuality. My breasts are almost more important Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1114653466712909232005-04-27T21:17:00.000-04:002005-04-27T21:57:46.716-04:00If I threw my guitar/ Out the window, so far down...1. A Degree. Somehow--I don't know exactly how, and to be honest, I don't remember most of it-- somehow, I managed to complete my last four chapters of Biological Anthropology and Latin American history last night, and then wake up this morning to take two final exams, back-to-back, after getting four hours of sleep. And then BOOM! CRASH! Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1114295221268249582005-04-23T18:02:00.000-04:002005-04-23T18:27:01.270-04:00Gonna Lasso the MoonIssac and I went camping Thursday night. Nowhere special, just the backyard. I built a fire and we made hotdogs and s'mores, which we did only for the sake of tradition, since I think marshamallows are mostly disgusting. We watched the moon and the stars, and Issac had fun learning how to weild a big stick with a piece of meat on it. I had never considered the implication of Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1113274128580676892005-04-11T21:25:00.000-04:002005-04-11T22:48:48.580-04:00There is an unruly, rebellious child in my house--and it is not Issac. This child, in some respects, is far more unmannered and out-of-control. She is nothing less than demanding. She is my inner-child, who has written three songs on the guitar this week, and is willing to do anything to avoid schoolwork.Part of me wants to slap her hand. But another part of me realizes that this little girl, Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1112159099719685462005-03-29T23:05:00.000-05:002005-03-30T00:04:59.723-05:00Blah. Blah Blah Blah Blah BLAH!Yeah, yeah. All you self-righteous punks are wondering why I can't get creative with my titles. I'll inform you that a black hole has formed in the middle of my living room. It has attracted a motely pile of laundry, including about fifty single socks without a pair, a long string of dental floss, a fork, a dinner plate, a highlighter, assorted pieces of paper with Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1111643666642746022005-03-24T00:04:00.000-05:002005-03-24T00:54:26.646-05:00It Was A Dark And Stormy Night...1. It was a dark and stormy night. She was folding laundry on the couch, watching American Idol. She was alone, all alone. Anyone looking in the window could have seen her in her nightgown, sipping coffee and belting out "Total Eclipse of the Heart" into an imaginary microphone. Anyone could have entered the door and lept across to the couch in three or four Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1110848834789584482005-03-14T19:52:00.000-05:002005-03-14T20:07:14.790-05:00Really, I'm Very Much Like A Dog...I was driving somewhere on Sunday, listening to NPR. They were featuring a compilation of songs made for pets-- specifically, dogs. The music and lyrics are supposed to make dogs very, very happy. Well, they had the same effect on me. Bruno's blog is asking what is the happiest song of all time? Well, I have to say it is either Squeaky-deaky! or Scratch My BackMelissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1110421263609449852005-03-09T20:26:00.000-05:002005-03-09T21:21:03.620-05:00My Life Is A Three Ring CircusLadies and Gents, in the big-tent you will find a rare specimen of a two-year-old. Ahh, but don't get too close--he bites, and trills at a decible level that will clean out your ear wax. As parents, we've all heard the maxim that children are like mirrors. They reflect their surroundings and the behaviors they have witnessed. In short, we are told, they reflect YOU Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1109568738138762392005-02-27T23:11:00.000-05:002005-02-28T00:32:18.150-05:00Slay Dragons of the Past, Find ForgivenessI'm not really sure how to talk about this, because it is so intensely personal. But tonight, I had a lesson in forgiveness. I've read that there are no such things as small miracles--that all miracles are large. Here, there may have been a miracle. I talked to Issac's dad today for a surprising two hours. The conversation, at first, was typical, and I Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1108961234269927982005-02-20T22:51:00.000-05:002005-02-20T23:47:14.273-05:00Katie DicamilloWho? After graduating from the University of Florida in 1985 with a B.A. in English, she couldn't find a "real" job. Despondent, she ended up moving back to Orlando and working as an usher at Epcot. She kept writing, though, waking up every morning at five am to put pen to page. Years and years passed. Her mother endured telling all of her friends that her daughter "the writer" Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1108846051516867422005-02-19T15:04:00.000-05:002005-02-19T15:47:31.526-05:00Bed-Wrestling*Ouch!* Egad! * &*^$!When Issac manages to crawl into my bed at 5:30 am, I am far too lazy to get up and put him back where he belongs. He is only two years old, but he is the ultimate bed-wrestler (far my superior--and I can get blankets away from ANYONE). I'm not entirely sure what his goal is: to comfort himself? To ensure that I don't "escape?" To cause the ultimate amount of Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1108354459623175952005-02-13T22:58:00.000-05:002005-02-13T23:14:19.626-05:00So ANGRY!I don't think of myself as a person who gets upset over little things. I usually don't. I'm really trying to be civil and let this one go, but I'm having serious issues. I've been writing short little articles for my church newspaper. They're supposed to be cute and chirpy interviews with members of a ministerial search committee and I've been happy to do the job. Of course, the materialMelissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1108352816759370692005-02-13T21:30:00.000-05:002005-02-13T22:57:07.436-05:00Death of a DogThe day was pleasant enough; the weather was warming after a few chilly nights and the sun was still on my shoulders, although it would be setting soon. I'd just finished running some circles on my brother's new horse and was walking up onto the porch to play with Issac, who was a little upset that I had gone off on the horse without him. A phone call came, but we ignored it. Dad Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1108272402697461182005-02-13T00:11:00.000-05:002005-02-13T00:26:42.700-05:00The Gum-Shoe...You know how it is. It starts out so innocent--just a piece-- right? It's only chewing gum. But before you know it, the kids are addicted. They're spending allowance money on two, three, four packs a week. Soon, they're robbing your purse and raiding your pocket change. And all that good-for-nothing-gum ever really does is get people worked up, cause fights and bad feelings. The Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1108098278535828902005-02-11T00:04:00.000-05:002005-02-11T00:08:42.800-05:00A Day At the Farmer's Market... A photo documentary. Nothing much more to say. Enjoy the show.This is the hippodrome, one of the city's cultural centers. Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1108098233635609212005-02-11T00:03:00.000-05:002005-02-11T00:03:53.636-05:00Inside, there is a bar, an art gallery, plays, and movies. Outside, there is a u-shaped plaza which is surrounded by nice restaurants and shops. Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1108098143983338472005-02-11T00:02:00.000-05:002005-02-11T00:02:23.983-05:00Baskets for sale! Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1108097858282411832005-02-10T23:57:00.000-05:002005-02-10T23:57:38.283-05:00Before it gets too busy... Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1108097739468928272005-02-10T23:55:00.000-05:002005-02-10T23:55:39.466-05:00Me and Issac walking around. It was a beautiful, warm day. Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1108097690354311922005-02-10T23:54:00.000-05:002005-02-10T23:54:50.353-05:00This is from Terranova. They make great food. Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1108097637664507242005-02-10T23:53:00.001-05:002005-02-10T23:53:57.663-05:00Mmmmm. The best dips ever. Drool. Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1108097601352924942005-02-10T23:53:00.000-05:002005-02-10T23:53:21.353-05:00Should I buy some jewelry? I bought Issac a bobby-head turtle knick-knack. Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1108097560643437312005-02-10T23:52:00.000-05:002005-02-10T23:52:40.643-05:00Wow. Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1107974144693918982005-02-09T13:35:00.001-05:002005-02-09T13:35:44.693-05:00My sugar snap peas. Yummy! Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1107974108268282792005-02-09T13:35:00.000-05:002005-02-09T13:35:08.266-05:00Here is a little garden gnome. I'm going to use this picture on my webpage for "Archer Prairie," the in-home day care center I plan on opening in a few months. Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1107829475591407452005-02-07T21:24:00.000-05:002005-02-07T21:24:35.590-05:00From the New Yorker. I needed a laugh. Cheers:) Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1107660071712648622005-02-05T21:26:00.000-05:002005-02-05T22:21:11.713-05:00Yech OR I'll Be Better in Three to Five Days.
It's...been...a...long...week. Suddenly, something in my life doesn't feel right. I can't put my finger on it, all of the external life factors are the same, nothing's changed on the outside. But for some reason, I don't feel like myself. Happy-go-lucky Melissa is gone. I've been afflicted with a terrible mood. Everything annoys me. I'm Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1107233306345477852005-01-31T23:32:00.000-05:002005-01-31T23:48:26.346-05:00Something Funny
When I was grocery shopping the other day (read stellarpurpledaisy's post for another grocery store laugh), I didn't believe my eyes when I saw, on one of those signs hanging from the ceiling in my local Hitchcock's Foodway, that a brand new food category has been invented. Under the usual headings of "canned foods" and "juices," there is now the label "institutional food."
Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1106110044695995322005-01-18T23:40:00.000-05:002005-01-18T23:53:58.290-05:00Calendar
“November,” mouths the silver crane
poised aloft, in six-inch wingspan stride.
Bold calligraphy scrawls, Celebrate Change;
Behind, the bird soars in easy, thoughtless glide.
The girl who pinned-up this calendar, though,
recognizes that it has just turned January,
and the frozen field, outside her window
is wintry and stale, a cold, ashy grey.
She lifts two plates from the table,
scrapesMelissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1105934428682582762005-01-16T22:49:00.000-05:002005-01-16T23:00:28.683-05:00Ew, Issac, THAT IS SO GROSS!
Toilet paper, cardboard boxes, tissues, books. My two-year-old likes to have a wad of pulpy paper mush in his mouth whenever the opportunity arises. It's as though he's buying cans of chaw, discarding the tobacco, and filling it with scraps of paper. He's totally addicted.
From the front seat, as I'm driving, I can hear the most intolerable sound, a satsified, Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1105502272516242362005-01-11T22:43:00.000-05:002005-01-11T22:57:52.516-05:00Everglades, 1999
Everything is wet, even my face, fanned
by my futile hands. We're lost,
but we've plenty of alcohol--
the inaugral fight of this vacation
centered on where to stow the whiskey
and how much ice to bring.
Since then, we've fought about everything.
For hours, I've studied
every detail of his back,
his straight spine, the movement
of his shoulders under his thin black shirt,
Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1105334720394223612005-01-10T01:21:00.000-05:002005-01-10T00:25:20.393-05:00Letters
Letters are paper thin, the mailbox
is a black, gaping jaw,
a black-hole where my heart encloses
itself every other week.
Ink makes your words permanent.
Then, they don’t fall through the air
or disappear.
I know you are too far away.
Continents will drift
where no cable can cross them,
and no post-man can deliver.
Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1105073749438960322005-01-06T23:02:00.000-05:002005-01-06T23:55:49.436-05:00The Maniac under My Car...
Do you ever begin a day-- a simple, pure, regular day--with every intention of keeping it that way, but then, out of your hands, events conspire to throw your simple, plain, regular day into a spiral of confusion and catastrophe?
This morning began with an attempt to get my car fixed. Not wanting to tow it to a garage, I got busy inquiring about local mobile mechanicsMelissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1104965032265119222005-01-05T17:32:00.000-05:002005-01-05T17:43:52.266-05:00Home again, home again, jiggity-jig...
Boy is it ever good to be home. At first I was sad to leave our snowy little scene in the middle of the woods, but it sure was nice to get back to Florida and strip off our sweaters (Issac took off EVERYTHING), and enjoy the gorgeous seventy degree weather. I found my house in good order, but my car is not working and I think it needs a new fuel pump. Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1103822955461722962004-12-23T13:18:00.000-05:002004-12-23T12:29:15.463-05:00IRON RIVER, MI....
Well, just a quick update because I don't know how long Issac will be occupied. He's become quite the computer tyrant. All I have to say is:
1) We made a safe trip up here to the land of the yoopers (upper peninsula people call themelves "yoopers, short for UP").
2) It's been fun visiting old friends I made up here a few summers ago.
3) Snow is SO MUCH FUN. I've already gotMelissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1102208616849948222004-12-04T19:51:00.000-05:002004-12-04T20:03:36.850-05:00A Short Story and Other Things
1) Minnesota Thaw: Instead of doing homework, I wrote this short story (look at post below). I've been reading short stories from a collection of stories and poems called "Witness." The particular volume I was reading was called "Love in America," and was themed about different people's experiences of love. I guess it inspired me. I sat down and the entire thing Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1102207559425981262004-12-04T19:37:00.000-05:002004-12-04T19:45:59.426-05:00Minnesota Thaw
“There’s a fine line between home and a trap.”--Mira Kirschenbaum
It’s 13 degrees outside. My husband, in his navy-blue fleece-lined jacket, is bent over the barbecue grill outside. He is warming his gloved hands over the flame. My son is in the front yard, bundled in wads of polyester-filled, parachute-lined gortex. He’s getting wet, making an arsenal of snowballs. It’s the Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1102094342894760422004-12-03T13:02:00.000-05:002004-12-03T12:19:02.893-05:00Boring Update
The Bad News: This semester, I had to take a hellish graduate level linguistics class. I've learned enough about "marked" languages, inflectional morphemes, and phonology to last a lifetime. Class is three-hours long and doesn't get out until close to nine pm. I hate it.
The Good News: Said class is mostly attended by English majors who plan on becoming teachers. English majorsMelissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1101617986018473802004-11-27T22:17:00.000-05:002004-11-27T23:59:46.016-05:00Automated Post Machines and Grocery Boys...
Okay, readers. Let me take you on an adventure: a day in the life of me. It begins with a simple task of getting a few copies of my birth certificate, peaks with a wild adventure to the post office, and ends with an absurd comment from a teenage grocery stocker.
POST MACHINE...
I had just two things on my to-do list today, but as you will see, two Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1101264431748584732004-11-23T21:46:00.000-05:002004-11-23T21:47:11.746-05:00Some Like It Hot
Introduce snow. The camera pans
Across two men in trench-coats looking darkly handsome.
Slightly flawed
Good-guys, the kind of guys you’d like to marry.
The shiny trombones slide thick, brassy notes
each time the camera frames Monroe
as if to say
“Zowie, babe! You’re really smokin’!’”
Lemon and Curtis wrangle the laughs,
(all legs, lipstick, and fancy hats),
The band jams
Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1101263481015438412004-11-23T21:19:00.000-05:002004-11-23T21:31:21.016-05:00The Sum of Things
I am Atlas. I hold the entire world high over my head with one shaking pinky finger. I'm going to drop the ball at any moment. The anxiety is bitter agony. Tune for next week's episode entitled "Girl Completes All School Projects and Celebrates Wildly!" or will it be "Girl Bangs Head On Wall and Slumps To Floor in Defeat"?
Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1100921155706695212004-11-19T22:25:00.000-05:002004-11-19T22:25:55.706-05:00Niegh. Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1100920778202214712004-11-19T22:19:00.000-05:002004-11-19T22:19:38.203-05:00It's November! Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1100919776011921512004-11-19T21:48:00.000-05:002004-11-19T22:02:56.013-05:00Sense and Sensibility
I watched Sense and Sensibility last night. Absolutely wonderful, and so fitting for my present circumstances. Which eligible bachelor will fall for this year's fallen woman? I'm poor, I've a questionable past, and when it comes to love, I am, at times, far from sensible. Shall I marry above my circumstances? Shall I marry at all? The suspense is killing me.
Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1100243588475773622004-11-12T01:15:00.000-05:002004-11-12T02:16:55.866-05:00The Fuzzy End of the Lollipop...OR...Who Would Jesus Bomb?
Well, it seems like I've been getting the fuzzy end of the lollipop lately, especially as I try to sort things out politically. I'M SO CONFUSED! The movie Saving Private Ryan came on TV tonight in honor of Veteran's Day, and I watched it for the umpteenth time. It's interesting how, despite the disgusting brutality of war, people always Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1099638148668862172004-11-05T01:06:00.000-05:002004-11-05T02:02:28.670-05:00Bummed Out, Afraid, and a Little Miserable...
It can't be that bad, right? Afterall, this is America. We'll survive. Right? Right?
Take a look at this video. It pretty much captures the feeling in my stomach right now. (It's about two minutes long--watch the entire thing. It is a VW commercial from Holland that never made it on the air because a ghost (or white misty thing) starts following theMelissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1099447742953388662004-11-02T21:09:00.000-05:002004-11-02T21:28:52.210-05:00Four Reasons Why Every Young Child Should Have Large Swaths of Cloth in their Play Repertoire...
Sometimes I complain that Florida's weather is far too boring. I'll try to stop taking Florida's weather for granted each time I admire these pictures I took today of my son playing half-naked in our autumn flora. It makes snow seem so unnecessary.
Issac was feeling a little under the weather today,Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1099447632027056082004-11-02T21:07:00.000-05:002004-11-02T21:07:12.026-05:00The Grimreaper's Easter cousin. Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1099447369798577072004-11-02T21:02:00.000-05:002004-11-02T21:02:49.796-05:00Wearing a cape. Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1099447230540938272004-11-02T21:00:00.000-05:002004-11-02T21:00:30.540-05:00Issac plays with a soft piece of silk. Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1099446973692522092004-11-02T20:56:00.000-05:002004-11-02T20:56:13.693-05:00Let's just whistle the Andy Griffith Show theme while we walk to Maybery... Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1099446756613930982004-11-02T20:52:00.000-05:002004-11-02T20:52:36.613-05:00Annual vet bill? $0. Annual food bill? $0. Number of annual indoor-potty accidents? 0. Borrowing your nieghbor's dog instead of getting your own? Priceless. Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1099275174613757622004-10-31T21:00:00.000-05:002004-10-31T21:12:54.613-05:00El-Cheapo Digital Camera
It isn't big, it isn't fancy, and it's hard to focus. But it only cost 20 bucks. The Vivitar Vivicam 3350 is about 2 inches by three, doesn't have a flash, doesn't make a noise when it takes a picture (Did I get it? Did it take it? I don't know, I can't tell!), and the advertised LCD display (about 2 millimeters by five) displays digital numbers, not images. So far, I'veMelissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1099274227299693532004-10-31T20:57:00.000-05:002004-10-31T20:57:07.300-05:00My friend Robin organized (and decorated) the entire fall festival. I sewed my Indian costume. Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1099274152713350872004-10-31T20:55:00.000-05:002004-10-31T20:55:52.713-05:00Cowboy + Monkey = Best Friends Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1099274099469876072004-10-31T20:54:00.000-05:002004-10-31T20:54:59.470-05:00Cowpokin' ain't no easy job! Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1099024813898534172004-10-29T01:21:00.000-04:002004-10-29T00:40:13.896-04:00Freaky Halloween Birds
Can you believe it? Two more birds have found their way into my house. However, this time they were huge blue jays, and they were dead. My door was open when I came home (did the cat open it?) and there was this dead blue jay laying right on the rug in front of the door. I screamed a long shrill: "Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahh!", like a woman being murdered. Then, I Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6324071.post-1098250091371193042004-10-20T01:02:00.000-04:002004-10-20T01:28:11.370-04:00Some Maundering...
1) The Hand: My hand is healing nicely. I think three layers of skin have grown back, so now I'm only missing six layers of skin. That's a rate of about one layer per day. Not too shabby. I've also noticed that each day, the raw, red part gets smaller. The wound is healing from the outside in, not the inside out. YOU may have already known this, but I find it fascinating. It Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13695712680877944160noreply@blogger.com1