the real mel

The Marriage of the Blogs

2009-08-20T11:56:00.002-06:00

As hard as I tried, I couldn't convince Mike to let me document our lives under the title "The Real Mel." Therefore, I hearby announce the creation of our new joint blog: mikeandmelissawilde.blogspot.com. Please refer to our new bloggy blog for updates on our lives.

This is the real Mel, signing out. It's been a great ride.

The End.

Confession

2009-07-31T11:58:00.000-06:00

It's the day before my wedding, and I had ice cream for breakfast.

Don't judge me.

What You DON"T Want To Happen 2 Weeks Before Your Wedding...

2009-07-22T11:05:00.002-06:00

Happily, we're all okay, though my brother-in-law's 7 day old car was totaled. And now, to repeat what my sister said: Avoid car accidents at all costs. And never drive a vehicle with faulty breaks. Especially if you're going to rear-end a car I'm inside. Thank you.

Mike and Mel Through the Years

2009-07-07T01:11:00.000-06:00

Here's a quick version of our story for those of you wanting the 411:

Mr. Michael Wilde, AKA hottie fiance extraordinaire, and I met on a blind date. This is no less than a miracle considering the fact that both Mike and I consider dating (and especially blind dates) to be closely akin, if not earthly representations, to our versions of the inner circle of hell. So the fact that we both agreed to go on said date, and actually went through with it, instead of backing out last minute, is amazing. Apparently I made a good impression because he asked me out again the following weekend. And the weekend after that. And again after that. And then he started making up excuses to see me during the week. Then he held my hand. Approximately sixteen years later he kissed me. Then we started seeing each other every day. Somewhere along the road we realized we were falling in love with each other. We graduated from BYU together on April 24th. Late that night, surrounded by rain and stars, sitting on the swing in the gazebo nestled in the corner of his parent's backyard, Mike asked me to marry him.

I said yes.

Some Engagement Pics:

"Are we done yet?"

Superfluous Information:

August 1, 2009

LDS Temple in Salt Lake City

Notre Dame Law, class of 2012

I'm one lucky girl. =D

Countdown

2009-07-01T11:49:00.006-06:00

14 days.

14 more days and the wait will be over.

14 days and it will finally happen.

14 days and the day I've waited for since I was a little girl will finally be here.

14 days and the moment I've dreamed of, planned, and rehearsed thousands of times will arrive.

14 days until pure bliss.

14 days.

14 days, and Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince will FINALLY come to theatres.

(31 days until the wedding thing, but really, what's more important here?)

Dress Shopping

2009-06-16T09:31:00.005-06:00

None of the following are the dress I ended up getting, but here are a few I tried on. Some were close seconds, some were mediocre, and some were downright hideous. I'll let you decide which is which.Me and my wedding planner/photographer/fellow cupcake-taste-tester/sister extraordinaire, Marci.

I would have liked this one a lot more if it weren't for the whipped cream finishing:

Major thanks to Marse, Leesie, and Tin for coming, supporting, and preventing me from throwing off the wedding when I came out of the dressing room looking like the abominable snow beast:

Current thoughts on weddingness: Now that I have pretty things to wear I'm a little more excited to show them off via reception hoopla. I still think wedding celebration traditions have become quite ridiculous over the past century, and am doing all in my power to avoid superfluous fluff. But as the countdown has turned from months to weeks I have focused my energy less on tan lines and napkin colors and more on the beauty and eternal nature of personal relationships. This has helped my happiness levels increase tremendously, as appreciation usually does. Weddings may be a pain, but Marriage is pretty gnarly.

For Authors

2009-06-10T13:11:00.014-06:00

Having recently graduated with a degree in English Literature, I have spent quite a bit of time thinking of the many people to whom I owe thanks for contributing to my education. Though I certainly couldn't have completed my undergrad without the help of many family, friends, teachers, and mentors, this one goes to perhaps the greatest contributors to my education: Authors.

From Plato's bravery to think on his own, to Thoreau's urge to "go confidently in the direction of your dreams," to Poe's melancholy, to Austen's subtle insights, to Wilde's clever wit, to Stoppard and Beckett's arguments for the humane side of existentialism, to the sheer brilliance Shakespeare spewed on paper, to Conrad, Gerthe, Tolstoy, Voltaire, Enger, Kidd, Twain, Hawthorne, Morrison, Wharton, Faulkner, Ishiguro, Orwell, Salinger, Greene, Hurston, Hemingway, Fitzgerald, Lee, Woolf, Ellison, Card, Rowling, Rand, De Cervantes, Swift, Milton, Byron, Shelley, Dickens, Bronte, Alcott, James, Huxley, Koestler, Homer, Reqmarque, Joyce, ... I have spent my life pouring over the works of these people. I owe my mind to them. Their thoughts have molded me and have given me perspective, imagination, and (hopefully) wisdom.

A note on imagination: This is one of the most important and undervalued qualities a person can have. No one says it better than JK Rowling in her 2008 Harvard Commencement Speech:

"You might think that I chose my second theme, the importance of imagination, because of the part it played in rebuilding my life, but that is not wholly so. Though I will defend the value of bedtime stories to my last gasp, I have learned to value imagination in a much broader sense. Imagination is not only the uniquely human capacity to envision that which is not, and therefore the fount of all invention and innovation. In its arguably most transformative and revelatory capacity, it is the power that enables us to empathise with humans whose experiences we have never shared...

Unlike any other creature on this planet, humans can learn and understand, without having experienced. They can think themselves into other people's minds, imagine themselves into other people's places.

Of course, this is a power, like my brand of fictional magic, that is morally neutral. One might use such an ability to manipulate, or control, just as much as to understand or sympathise.
And many prefer not to exercise their imaginations at all. They choose to remain comfortably within the bounds of their own experience, never troubling to wonder how it would feel to have been born other than they are. They can refuse to hear screams or to peer inside cages; they can close their minds and hearts to any suffering that does not touch them personally; they can refuse to know.

I might be tempted to envy people who can live that way, except that I do not think they have any fewer nightmares than I do. Choosing to live in narrow spaces can lead to a form of mental agoraphobia, and that brings its own terrors. I think the wilfully unimaginative see more monsters. They are often more afraid.

What is more, those who choose not to empathise may enable real monsters. For without ever committing an act of outright evil ourselves, we collude with it, through our own apathy." (Read the full text in all it's awesomeness by clicking here.)

I have loved studying, reading, learning, and expanding my imagination. If nothing else, it has set me on a path of life long learning; And that, in the end, defines education: knowing you will never know everything, but trying anyway.

So thanks, Authors, for your daring to think and courage to write. This world would be far less enchanting or enlightened, and just plain dull without you.

"Those of us who have been readers all of our lives seldom realize the enormous extension of our being which we owe to authors.... In reading great literature, I become a thousand men and yet remain myself." --My Buddy Clive (AKA C. S. Lewis)

If Life Were Fair...

2009-06-05T09:32:00.003-06:00

...Ikea, Pier 1 Imports, and Barns and Noble would have wedding registry options.

In other news, Mike and I got our rings recently and I LOVE them! In an unrelated occurrence, I have recently taught my nephew the word "bling."

BREAKING NEWS

2009-05-28T09:28:00.002-06:00

You can see white on ALL TEN of my fingernails. You may not be able to appreciate the magnitude of this moment, but this has never happened to me before and I'm pretty stoked about it.

Congratulations now being accepted.

On the Annoyances of Traditional Weddings and the Evils of Conventionalism

2009-05-12T14:21:00.002-06:00

Hi.

Life has been rough lately. Being engaged to Mike makes me deliriously happy, don't get me wrong. Mike's great. It's this whole "being engaged" thing that's the problem. Ever since he put this ring on my finger my life has turned into a complete disaster. Suddenly, I have three months to coordinate dates and times with friends and family, Book tours at eighteen different possible reception sites, meet with dozens of photographers, pick out colors that Mike and I can actually agree on, plus an invitation design that says classy without the extra fees, not to mention postage, and find the perfectly elegant yet incredibly inexpensive wedding gown, veil, shoes, bridesmaid junk, reception venue, caterer, cake, tables, chairs, linens, menu, etc, etc, etc...

I think I'm going to die. WHY?!?! Why must we go through this sadistic ritual of paying thousands of dollars for ONE DAY in which we will be so caught up in the details of the party that we won't be able to even talk to each other, let alone enjoy it??!?? It's not worth it, man. I got sick of wedding planning about 14 hours into our engagement. Now that it's been a couple weeks, I am officially trying to justify the idea of elopement.

Elopement. Doesn't it just sound glamorous? Marriage without the fluff and allergy-inducing plants and awkward photos and massive check at the end of the night. The kind of union where you can become husband and wife and be done with it already. Excellent, I say. Hey, if it's good enough for Joseph Smith, it's good enough for me.

I can't help but think that it's too late to elope though. If we were going to do it, we should have just done it and not messed with this whole engagement thing. For me, the expectation is already there. If we elope now, there will undoubtedly be a lot of unhappy people, and probably a lot of gossip. However, I have tried to come up with reasons to elope in order to justify my anti-wedding leanings, and I must say, I've come up with a pretty impressive list. Here's a few of my favorites:

-We're about to be up to our ears in student loans for law school. This is no time to be spending money.
-With jobs, school, and moving to Indiana, we just don't have time to plan a wedding.
-My brother on a mission won't be able to come, so why should anyone else?
-We'll be shaking a billion people's hands, and so we'll probably get swine flu.
-Less of a chance that gunmen will break into our party and kill us.
-I just don't care. Where conventional weddings often are scripted down to the last flower petal and the bride and groom are center stage all day, keeping it chill is more my style. A smaller thing would be nicer for two hermits.
-Wedding parties have turned into an expectation instead of a celebration. Nowdays it's more about the third party guests, the most convenient location, and the free food. Protest these evil traditions of our fathers with me!!

You know the old saying by Annonymous, Good things come to those who wait and throw big parties for themselves. With all respect to the anciant sage Annonymous, whom I have quoted many times in my life, I think you're full of it. Here's to sponteneity, intimacy, and a truly happy wedding day.

The REAL Reason for the Recent Blogging Hiatus

2009-04-26T14:39:00.002-06:00

Apparently I'm engaged. At least that's what Mike keeps telling me this hunk of metal on my left hand means. I'll do a longer post later with more of our story for those of you who want the details. For now, suffice it to say that I have never been happier. I love you Mike, and I am so excited to become your wife and spend forever by your side.

Sanka, Ya Dead?

2009-04-20T10:07:00.017-06:00

Ten points to whoever gets the above reference first.

Well hello everyone. No, I'm not dead, contrary to common belief. However, I have been somewhat MIA lately - and by "somewhat" I mean "completely and utterly." Apologies. Apologies all around. Turns out, life can get extremely busy when you least expect it. I have actually started writing several blog posts over the past months, but failed to finish them due to a severe case of writer's block. The longer I waited to write something, the more pressure I felt to really deliver the blog post of the century, and thus the more I procrastinated. This post is probably not going to win me any blogging gold medals, but I had to write something to get Nat to stop swearing at me and the cosmos to align correctly once again. (Even if that doesn't happen, at least I'll be able to check "blog" off my to-do list. Ah, satisfaction.)

I have learned over said blogging hiatus that writer's block comes in several forms. Here are some of the forms with which I have been attacked lately:

1- Great Fiction.

The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini, The Secret Life of Bees by Sue Monk Kidd, and The Color of Water by James McBride. I recommend all of them. I'd do a review, but I think these novels are pretty well known and don't particularly need my stamp of approval for them to become the endeavors of other like-minded literary gluttons such as myself.

2- Homework.

Yeah yeah, so I've never let this stop me from writing before, and I probably shouldn't now. But with time crunched as it has been lately, I have been using the free time I have to complete projects, assignments, quizzes, tests, finals, and other academic pursuits. Responsibility can be such a pain.

3- Graduation.

It's true. I will become a bachelor in 4 days. I'll probably do a post about this sometime next week, complete with pictures- a rare occurrence for this bloggy blog of mine. Thoughts to follow.

4- Moving.

I'm moving this Saturday! Actually, that sentence is slightly misleading. I'm moving out this Saturday. I'm not moving in to the new place until the beginning of May, which means I will be homeless for a week. Honestly, this whole homelessness thing is a new thing for me, and I am somewhat thrilled at the prospect. It'll be an adventure. (Anyone willing to put me up for a night?)

5- Insomnia.

The battle continues. It has actually been pretty tame lately, only a handful of times this past semester. Sine I've been dealing with it for several years now, I know how to handle it. But sleepless nights will always be exhausting, aggravating, and draining, and make the day (and headache) that follows grueling.

6- Callings.

I am a member of the illustrious Activities Committee at church and it is ruining my life. I'd write more, but I fear the storm clouds gathering above my head will release their electric energy on my person even as I type.

7- LOST.

Greatest. Show. Ever. Fabulous friends, Stellar show, Gnarly night every Wednesday! This season has exceeded my expectations exponentially. I'm even warming up to John Locke, historically one of my greatest enemies along with the Sherbert Land level of Mario Kart. Wednesdays are always happy.

8- Future.

I am currently figuring this one out. Updates will be provided periodically.

These excuses may or may not be adequate, but there you have it. Consider this blog updated.

Nuthin.

2009-03-02T14:54:00.004-07:00

Blogging: Never before have so many with so little to say said to much to so few.

Fat Tuesday

2009-02-24T11:34:00.002-07:00

Lent starts tomorrow. This time around I have decided to abstain from fast food. It's going to be a long 40 days.

Dear Dollar Menu, I will miss you and our mid-morning rendezvous.

Mel and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day.

2009-02-11T00:22:00.004-07:00

Last night the insomnia kicked in, so I figured today would be bad.
I just didn't know how bad.

First, I forgot about an assignment due in one of my classes.
Then I was late to work.
Then I realized I forgot my lunch.
Then I spent 500 hours on the phone with the California Jury people explaining why I physically could not report for jury duty today, seeing as I am not currently living in the same freaking time zone.
Then, of course, my car got towed.
And because it snowed I looked like this all day:

And those are just the highlights. A part of me is trying to be grateful that my bad days consist of these kinds of dilemmas instead of gunshot wounds and heroin. But right now I'm ticked off, $120 bucks poorer, and still sleep deprived, so I think I'm just going to go to bed.

Life, you better be nicer to me tomorrow.

Episode Two

2009-01-30T15:53:00.001-07:00

Lizzie wrote episode two. It's incredible. Read here.
(For episode one, see below.)

The Bachelorette Revolutionized

2009-01-29T11:40:00.010-07:00

So my roommate and I were talking about what would happen if she actually did what she's been threatening to do for weeks, namely, sign me up as the star of next season's hit show, the Bachelorette. This would be both horrible and brilliant; Horrible because I would hate it, brilliant because everyone else in the world would love it, ABC would make millions, and I would probably get interviewed by Ellen and perhaps Ryan Seacrest. The more we "discussed" this idea of hers the more repulsive-slash-intriguing it became. The good news (for me) is that I know myself well enough to know exactly what would happen were this idea ever to fruit, so I can provide you with an episode by episode replica of this non-existent future show, and by so doing, give away the punchline and relieve myself of it ever becoming reality. SO. Without further ado, I bring you the show that will never be: The Bachelorette, Mel Style.

EPISODE 1

Twenty-five GQ looking men approach Mel, each hoping to dazzle her with their good looks and, um, more good looks, and eventually win her heart by virtue of said good looks. And perhaps their kissing talents. Mel begrudgingly sizes up each one as they loom nearer and curses the sky for the fact that this meeting is making her miss LOST. Guy one daringly takes Mel's hand and prepares to WOW her with his amazing opening line...

Guy one: "Hi."

Mel: "Why are you here?"

Guy one: "I have come to take you to wife."

Mel: "No thanks."

Guy one: "But, I-"

Mel: "Nope."

Guy one: "Can't we-"

Mel: "Forget it."

Guy one: "How about-"

Mel: "Dude, seriously, leave."

Guy one: "Trying to play hard-to-get, are we?"

*pause*

Mel: "SECURITY!!"

Mel shakes her head as guy one leaves the set hand-cuffed, and prepares for her next encounter as guy two makes his way forward with a pirate-esque swagger.

Guy two: "Hey baby."
Mel: "No. No no no. No way. Goodbye."

Guy two: "Not be arrogant, but I'm super attractive. How can you not be attracted to me? Who do you think you are- God?"

Guy two saunters over to hit on some cute production worker person while guy three straightens his cowboy hat and pulls up his socks and nervously approaches Mel, who is looking at her watch and wondering if she jumps the fence right now whether anyone will notice she's gone.

Guy three: "Mel, your beauty has left me speechless. I don't know how to express the feelings in my heart. You're just so amazing. I have been waiting my whole life for this moment. Let's run away together. What I really want to say is, Marry me, Mel. You never have to be alone. I love you, and that's all I really know. I talked to your dad. You'll pick out a white dress. This is OUR love story, baby just say yes!"

Mel: "Speechless, huh? Wow. Okay romantic cowboy, I've got a deal for you. If I can guess what song was playing in the limo on the way over here will you leave?"

Guy three shows himself to the door. This proceeds until all twenty-five guys have left the premises. Host Chris Harrison comes outside looking confused.

Mel: "Look Chris, I'm just not Bachelorette material. Why don't you find a cheerleader or an aspiring actress looking to further her career or something?"

Chris: "Nonsense! This is exactly the sort of twist the Bachelorette needs! A girl who knows what she wants!"

Mel: "Yes, I DO know what I want, and that person is NOT the kind to look for love on a reality television show. I'm only here because I lost a bet. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go."

Chris: "Oh no you don't! This show is going to be revolutionized! And it's all thanks to you! We are going to bring in twenty-five retired baseball stars, aftershave models, teachers that recently got fired, widowers, dropouts, and skateboarding wannabes every night until you find the good looks of your dreams!"

Mel: "Pretty sure that's the worst idea you've ever had."

Chris (to the camera): "How long will it take for Mel to find her perfect man? Only time can tell! Find out what happens next week on the Bachelorette!"

Camera scans to nearby hill where Mel can be seen running away at full speed and screaming like a banshee.

The End. Well, until next week.

Awesome

2009-01-18T22:31:00.001-07:00

The following message was recently emailed to me and I couldnt help but share it. Enjoy.

In 1986, Peter Davies was on holiday in Kenya after graduating from Northwestern University .

On a hike through the bush, he came across a young bull elephant standing with one leg raised in the air. The elephant seemed distressed, so Peter approached it very carefully. He got down on one knee, inspected the elephants foot, and found a large piece of wood deeply embedded in it. As carefully and as gently as he could, Peter worked the wood out with his knife, after which the elephant gingerly put down its foot.

The elephant turned to face the man, and with a rather curious look on its face, stared at him for several tense moments. Peter stood frozen, thinking of nothing else but being trampled. Eventually the elephant trumpeted loudly, turned, and walked away. Peter never forgot that elephant or the events of that day.

Twenty years later, Peter was walking through the Chicago Zoo with his teenaged son. As they approached the elephant enclosure, one of the creatures turned and walked over to near where Peter and his son Cameron were standing. The large bull elephant stared at Peter, lifted its front foot off the ground, then put it down. The elephant did that several times then trumpeted loudly, all the while staring at the man.

Remembering the encounter in 1986, Peter could not help wondering if this was the same elephant. Peter summoned up his courage, climbed over the railing, and made his way into the enclosure. He walked right up to the elephant and stared back in wonder. The elephant trumpeted again, wrapped its trunk around one of Peter legs and slammed him against the railing, killing him instantly.

Probably wasn't the same elephant.

Love

2009-01-06T13:26:00.003-07:00

"I could give up chocolate, but I'm not a quitter.""I have this theory that chocolate slows down the aging process. It may not be true, but I don't dare take the chance." "In the beginning God created chocolate, and He saw that it was good. Then He separated the light from the dark and saw that it was better." "There's nothing better than a good friend -

except a good friend with chocolate."

"Chocolate is nature's way of making up for Mondays." "If everyone in the world gained ten pounds, We'd all be closer together." "Fat people are harder to kidnap." "Nine out of ten people like chocolate.

The tenth person lies." Fact: Chocolate lifts your spirits after a Dementor encounter. "If chocolate is the answer, the question is irrelevant." "Save the Earth! It's the only planet with chocolate.""Chocolate: The food of the gods." "Forget love. I've rather fall in chocolate."

"If not for chocolate, there would be no need for control top pantyhose. An entire garment industry would be devastated." Simply put, everyone has a price. Mine's chocolate.

Wishing you all a happy January!

(REAL reason for this post: One of my New Year Revolutions (not a typo) is to have more self discipline. It is now the sixth of January and I'm hungry. Perhaps I should have entitled this post "Hate.")

Charged

2008-12-22T15:04:00.003-07:00

Every winter here in Utah brings many lovely delights. As December has rolled around once again I am reminded of all the reasons why I love Winter: Snow mobiling, Sledding, Scarves, Hot Cocoa, Candy Canes, Christmas Carols, Sugar Cookies, my Birthday (woot!), New Years Resolutions, Apple Cider, Lights, Snowflakes, Poinsettias, Sales at Borders and Barnes and Noble, general peace and happiness and other joyful and triumphant feelings in the air, etc. The reasons to love winter are endless.

There is one thing about winter, however, that simply drives me bonkers.... STATIC.

Due to the high influx of heater usage across the country, the amount of static in the air is tremendous. It's ridiculous, really. It's like every electron ever suddenly decides every winter that they need to be warm too, and therefore follow we humans around like fleas. Most of us humans tolerate this winterly nuisance every year much the same way we tolerate country music - with a determination to pretend it doesn't exist even whilst it intrudes on our peaceful existences and makes our hair stand on end.

Now, I have tried to reason with static for many winters now. The reasoning always goes something like this:

Mel: So, your electron cronies are back, huh?
Static: Gave themselves away, did they?
Mel: It was mainly the fact that all things metal started twitching slightly whenever I entered the room. And the whole lightning-bolt-esque-body-attack that happens whenever I touch any of the aforementioned metal objects.
Static: We'll have to work on our subtlety.
Mel: It's not so much the subtlety that troubles me. It's the persistent, shameless refusal to leave we humans the heck alone. Why can't your electrons attach themselves to mosquitoes or chia pets or other useless objects?
Static: Hey, I don't make the rules. Blame Einstein.
Mel: Come on, you don't really need to follow those rules, do you? Can't you just bend them in the name of Christmas cheer?? The rules are more like guidelines anyway.
Static: I'm disinclined to acquiesce to your request.
Mel: You scrooge.
Static: Actually, that was a reference to Barbosa, not Ebeneezer.
Mel: I hate you. Hate, hate, hate. Double hate. LOATH ENTIRELY.
Static: No, not the Grinch, Captain Barbosa. Think Jack Sparrow, Elizabeth Swan, Will Turner-
Mel: You mean Legolas?
Static: NO. NOT Lord of the Rings. B-A-R-B-O-S-A. Black Pearl, Dead Man's Chest, World's End, you know.
Mel: World's End? Oh, like Independence Day? Or that new Keanu Reeves movie? You seem like you're the type to like Keanu Reeves.
Static: That's it! I draw the line at Keanu! Tomorrow you're getting shocked BIG TIME.
Mel: I'd like to see you try...

Next day, around 8:00 AM as MEL reaches for the car door to for to work: OUCH! CURSE YOU, STATIC! YOU AND YOUR LITTLE ELECTRONS, TOO!

Basically, our relationship has historically been a work in progress. I work; Electrons progress. No matter how hard I try, the bliss of every winter is marred with frequent zaps. And I'm sick of it. So I now publicly break the fragile relationship we have maintained thus far, and declare war against static. The time has come for an ultimatum. I vote that the electrons find a new species to torture. I hereby submit that static and his merciless forces find another outlet for their vindictive ways. Starting NOW.

WHO'S WITH ME IN THIS WINTER WAR?!??!?

PS- Merry Christmas!

**Apologies to Mere and Brandon for the negative use of their last name. The people are MUCH gnarlier than their static-y counterpart.

Destiny

2008-12-15T19:53:00.002-07:00

You know when weird things happen? Ok, maybe it's just to me that extraordinarily strange and serendipitous things occur, but this particular instance was too creepy to ignore. So at the beginning of the semester I bought a used book, The Rivals by some famous dead guy (ok, ok, he has a name, Richard Brinsley Sheridan), for my History of Drama class. This was the last play we read in the semester, which is why I opened the book for the first time a couple of weeks ago. As I was reading, I found a receipt stuck about half way through. Clearly, this receipt was from the first time the play was purchased some odd years ago. I was about to throw the receipt away, when something caught my eye... see if you can spot the reason for my hesitation: And here's a close up...

Yeah, that's my name. On a receipt bought in Minnesota almost three years ago, still in the same book which found its way across the country, into BYU, and onto my bookshelf. WEIRD. Upon making this discovery I naturally looked to see what else was written on this receipt. Whoever bought The Rivals simultaneously bought three other books:

-Othello by William Shakespeare

-Arms and the Man by George Bernard Shaw

-Oedipus Rex by Sophocles

Consider the facts: Othello is my favorite Shakespeare play. I've already read Oedipus Rex for a Comparative Lit class. This Arms and the Man business is new to me, however. But this receipt is obviously too personally relevant to be coincidence, right?

What does this mean??!? Twelve possibilities come to mind:

First: This receipt is a revelation. The answers to the universe are hidden in these four books. Careful examination will reveal to me the future of mankind and my destiny in that world, which will obviously be full of comedy, tragedy, philosophy, drama, fame, fortune, and the works. This insight will be yummier than a fortune cookie, more riveting than a seance, and more life changing than a tarot reading.

Second: This receipt is a summoning. This is the beginning of the next great adventure in my life. These four books will start me on a journey towards hidden secrets, underground tunnels, basilisk snakes, ancient legends, and the ultimate conquering of evil. The kidnapping of the President of the United States is probable. This is also likely to involve either Albus Dumbledore or Nicolas Cage.

Third: This receipt is a warning. Avoid the following scenarios at all costs: Husbands that can't decide between poisoning you or strangling you; Killing/marrying parents and other Freudian nastiness; Suitors that think they were born in the 18th century (so no more Edward Cullen. Joking...); And all men with arms. Hmm.

The other nine possibilities don't seem likely, so I will refrain from elaboration. Basically, to make a short story shorter, the moral of all this is I found a receipt, it had my last name on it, I thought it was freaky, and I thought I'd blog about it.

The End.

Hold On

2008-12-04T19:44:00.003-07:00

So there I was, eating my cottage cheese and realizing that I have four ginormous, really, ginormous, papers to write in the next seven days before finals hit next week. As I was on about my 14th spoonful of procrastination, Wilson Phillips came on my ipod shuffle.

"Someday somebody's gonna make you wanna turn around and say goodbye. 'Til then, baby, are you gonna let them hold you down and make you cry? Dontcha know, things could change, things could go your way? If you hold on for one more day. Can you hold on for one more day? Things will go your way. Hold on for one more day."

And my day abruptly got better. I'd write more, but "The Dream Is Still Alive" just came on, my cottage cheese is waiting, and I have homework to do.

Ah, the Phillips sisters. Always inspiring.

OMG!

2008-11-24T11:57:00.006-07:00

I WON.

TAMN, of Seriously So Blessed fame, picked ME out of the hundreds of people who submitted their names in her November Give-Away. I won some Stephen's Gourmet Hot Cocoa. I haven't felt this cool since Emad Rasi picked ME to be his handball partner over Marie Davis in 6th grade.

Life is good.

(If you haven't already checked out her blog, I highly recommend it.
Laughter guaranteed.)

Wow.

2008-11-21T14:06:00.007-07:00

Today I saw a girl wearing a shirt that read:

My Heart Belongs to My Husband,

But My Neck Belongs to Edward.

I think I've made my personal stance on the Twilight Series abundantly clear. But I wish you all a happy viewing this weekend anyway, ya bunch of crazies.

In Memory of Poetry

2008-11-20T19:00:00.002-07:00

Once upon a time people aspired to be poets. I wish that time still existed. Alas, poetry is now somewhat of a lost art, the musings of dead men, a thing of the past. Unfortunately this beautiful key to civilizations and cultures has little sway in the reading preferences of our time. Sure, some may still own a dusty copy of the complete works of Shel Silverstein, but there is so much more. And so, in memory of Frost, Dickinson, Poe, Hughes, Whitman, Pound, and many, many others, I bring you one of my favorite poems. Enjoy.

-Rudyard Kipling

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or, being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with triumph and disaster
And treat those two imposters just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with wornout tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on";

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings - nor lose the common touch;
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run -
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man my son!

For Marse

2008-11-16T16:05:00.008-07:00

Because Marse asked me to, because I don't want to do homework, and because I like talking about myself. Who doesn't?

8 Things

8 shows I enjoy watching:
1) The Office
2) CNN
3) Arrested Development
4) Gilmore Girls
5) How It's Made
6) Lost
7) What Not to Wear
8) Can't think of any other ones...

8 things that happened yesterday:
1) Watched Franco Zeffirelli's Hamlet
2) Wrote a paper
3) Went to a Bridal Shower
4) Read Othello
5) Read A Midsummer Night's Dream (I have a massive Shakespeare test on Tuesday. Clearly.)
6) Bought a chocolate cream cake
7) Went to a murder mystery party and guessed correctly who the murderer was.
8) Watched 29 Day 2 and remembered how much fun that school year was.

8 things I'm looking forward to:
1) Thanksgiving.
2) Getting this Shakespeare test over with.
3) Pumpkin Pie.
4) Sam's Thomas the Tank Engine Birthday Party.
5) My Birthday.
6) Graduating.
7) Having a real career.
8) My hair growing out.

8 things I love about fall:
1) Pumpkin Pie.
2) The smells.
3) School Starting.
4) Halloween.
5) Thanksgiving.
6) The colors.
7) Boots.
8) Scarfs. (Scarves?)

8 things on my wish/dream/goal list:
1) Move to NY.
2) Visit all 50 States.
3) Make a DI run.
4) I wish I could talk to Nana.
5) Learn another language. Right now I'm leaning towards Hebrew, but Spanish would be so useful, and wouldn't be that hard after Italiano...
6) Get an A on my Shakespeare midterm.
7) The beautiful off-white coat in the Banana Republic Window.
8) No more money woes.

8 people I'm tagging:
(Do 8 people even read my blog??)
1) Leese, even though Marse already tagged you. Now you have double duty, so you better do it. =D
2) Tin. This will be a distraction from your back-ness.
3) L to the izzie, even though she pretends to hate tags.
4) Nat, you did my last one. Wanna do it again?? =D
5) Molly, you feeling up to it?
6) Um, how about Meredith.
7) Becky?
8) And for my last one, I'll go ahead and tag Marse. I know, it's a cop out since she's the one who tagged me in the first place, but I don't know who else reads this stuff.

And NOW, just some photos...

I miss these guys, who are currently soaking it up in CA.
Cute little Tee-rav and the Sophinator.

I don't think I ever did a Halloween post. Molly and I were MnMs. Mel and Molly... MnMs... get it? We thought we were clever.

The End.

A Cinderella Story

2008-11-04T23:21:00.002-07:00

Tonight I asked my niece (age 2) who she was voting for. She said, "Umm... Cinderella." I don't think it's too much of a stretch to say that my niece got her wish. Regardless of your political opinions, you've got to admit that tonight has been one of the most historically significant nights of the century. Congrats, President Obama!

Oh Baby I'm Good.

2008-11-03T22:31:00.003-07:00

About a month ago I did several bad things in a row, followed by a conscience-induced good thing.

Bad thing 1- I went shopping.
Bad thing 2- I took my credit card with me.
Bad thing 3- I went to Banana Republic.
Bad thing 4- I tried on cute stuff.
Bad thing 5- I fell in love with a pair of perfect white jeans.
Bad thing 6- I looked at the price tag.
Bad thing 7- I justified the fact that since they were marked down from $88 dollars to $60 that it was worth it.
Bad thing 8- I bought said jeans. Upon returning home I remembered my current status as a dead broke college student and realized that I can't afford $60 jeans at this point in my life. I then did a good thing...

Good thing 1- I took them back.

I was sad to part with the perfect jeans, but what can you do. It was jeans or lunch for the entire next week, people.

I now come to the really great part of my story. This past weekend I was at the mall again. (twice in two months is actually a lot for me... I tend to avoid the mall much as one might avoid tuberculosis.) Anyway, I, of course, stopped in Banana Republic, just to say hi to the perfect pair of jeans. There they were, tucked in the corner of the sale rack, looking as perfect as a pumpkin. (Don't know where that analogy came from... seeing as all the pumpkins outside our apartment are currently moldy, rotten, smelly, imploding piles of orange, grey, and green mush. But I digress.) I held them, I stroked them, I wanted them. I forced myself to look at the price tag to remind myself why I could not own them. And then...

WHAM. It hit me like David Cook hit American Idol. The price had been reduced from $88 to $60 to $35 to $19!!! Wait a second, don't get too excited unless they have my size... do they?... YES!!! LAST PAIR!! This is my lucky day, man! I tried them on, and they were just as perfect as I remembered. AND, to make a great story greater, there was a tiny blue mark on the back of one of the legs (which came out in the wash) which meant I got an ADDITIONAL TWENTY PERCENT OFF. That's right. I, Melissa Lynn Moorhead, bought Banana Republic jeans, retail value $88, for $15. Oh baby I'm good.

And now all I want is for the exact same price tag to be attached to a certain beautiful coat in Banana's front window... currently $250... hey, a girl can dream, right?

Confessions of a Bridesmaid

2008-10-22T11:23:00.000-06:00

I have made a monumental breakthrough. I have discovered the REAL reasons BYU pumps out generation after generation of cleaver, ambitious, intelligent people. I have found out why we cougars are known for graduating with much more than a degree and a couple of good references. I now know why the caliber of Y students is unbelievably strong. The reason is because we, the products of the mothership here in Provo, spend just as much time, money, energy, and resources on one certain cause as on any other single thing in our short lives. This cause is matrimony.

There is an unwritten law that pervades my lovely college campus which states that as a student here you are obliged to participate in an enormous amount of weddings. This is not a bad thing. Marriage is super. I fully support the institution. However, becoming a wedding expert was not something I was quite prepared for upon becoming a temporary Utah resident. But after having now been a bridesmaid for the fourth time last week, I have grown to appreciate the skills this vocation has taught me.

What skills could it possibly require to be a bridesmaid, you might ask? Don't you just have to show up for pictures in a funky colored dress and dyed satin shoes and call it a day? NAY, faithful reader, nay. The ins and outs of bridesmaidness are much more complicated. To illustrate my point, I have compiled a list of the skills, talents, side-effects and other particulars we bridesmaids develop from the engagement to the marriage of someone else.

I debated on calling this list You Know You've Been a Bridesmaid One Too Many Times When... or the Top Ten Signs That Show You've Lived in Provo for Too Long... and finally concluded that the best title for this list is:

PORTRAIT OF A BRIDESMAID...

You felt like you were watching your own biography on screen when you watched 27 Dresses, with the blaring exception of a James Marsden character in your life to sing Elton John with.

Your personal pulls on the purse strings have a direct correlation to Christmas and Summer. Not because of holidays, but because of the high volume of weddings.

You are the go-to girl for help on choosing which engagement photo to put in the invites.

You are the default model for any and all possible bridesmaids dresses.

You know ALL ABOUT the various forms of birth control and have already formed premature opinions about them.

When the Bride is up to her ears in catering menus and then her phone rings and it's her second cousin who wants to know why her daughter Lucy can't be a flower girl, the Bride hands the phone to you. Because you're the bridesmaid, of course.

The lingerie vendors at Victoria's Secret know you by name, even though you've never actually bought anything for yourself.

You Consider Father of the Bride's own Frank to be a kindred spirit.

When your roommate tells you they're engaged you automatically calculate how many weeks you have before you need to send out the bridal shower invites.

You are more enraged about Target's new stringent return policy than any engaged couple (because you're the one buying the spice racks and matching towel sets, not them. duh.)

Upon buying yet the twentieth pair of lacy unmentionables you conclude that if karma doesn't exist then you just might turn atheist.

You think Anne's (think Green Gables) rebuttal against the "twice a bridesmaid, never a bride" comment to be the greatest comeback of all time.

You get premature arthritis from assembling invitations, cutting out stuff, stuffing directions to the local stake center, sealing envelopes, and the like.

You are the water-getter when the bride and groom's mouths become iper-dry from all the smiling while standing in the reception line

You are the shoulder to cry on when it's a week before the wedding, the dress alterations aren't done, the future MIL (mother-in-law) announces she's invited 200 of her friends that you didn't know about to the wedding, and the bride and groom just got in a fight over chicken cordon bleu vs. steak at the catered family dinner.

You are the hair and make-up connoisseur for pictures.

The months of the engagement extravaganza leave you so wiped out that you take a week off following the wedding to recover.

Man, forget internships and extracurriculars and the like. Being a bridesmaid offers more opportunities and real world experience than anything else life can provide. Next time I apply for anything I'm going to leave off the whole superfluous educational background bit and the unnecessary references and the like and just write one thing under my previous work experience and other applicable activities:

I AM BRIDESMAID.
I CONQUER ALL.

(Note: I actually wasn't a bridesmaid for all the above weddings. In fact, I didn't even attend them all (insert slow mournful music here in memory of Nat and Tin's weddings. Cause of absence: see previous post). But I was involved in some way, bridesmaid or otherwise, in all of them. Thanks to everyone for letting me post your photos though. As if you had a choice.)

UN ANNO

2008-10-06T00:30:00.022-06:00

This month marks one year since I returned home from my bella Italia. I was going to wait a couple weeks and do some sort of tribute to my second home on the actual anniversary of my homecoming, but I decided to up my blogging schedule in light of recent events. I have no words to express my love for this country. In honor of the time I spent there, I have compiled a brief (in comparison) photo tour of my sacred months in Italy.

Opening the call... "You are assigned to labor in the Italy Rome Mission."
"Greater blessings and more happiness than you have yet experienced await you as you humbly and prayerfully serve the Lord in this labor of love among His children."
Day 1

Day 524
Home again.
TEMPLE GROUNDS!!!

From my last email home: "questa è l'ultima lettera che vi scrivo come una missionaria della cheisa di Gesù Cristo dei Santi degli Ultimi Giorni. che strano. sono in italia da un'anno e mezzo adesso. tutti sanno che sto per partire. mi chiedono spesso che cosa mi sento, che ne penso, e così via. non sono mai riuscita a rispondere perchè i miei pensieri e sentimenti sono troppo mescolati. certo sono contenta di vedere la mia famiglia di nuovo, certo sono stanca, e certo non voglio lasciare le persone qua che amo così tanto. ma ogni giorno di queste settimane mi sono svegliata sapendo che oggi sono una missionaria. oggi posso servire qualcuno. oggi posso aiutare il mio Padre Celeste a salvare qulache anima. oggi ho quest'opportunità. oggi. e con questo pensiero in mente sono riuscita a continuare avanti. ho lavorato fino ad oggi, e ho l'intento di lavorare alcune giorni di più. sono grata per la mia missione. mi ha insegnato delle cose che non mi dimenticherò mai. sono grata per il popolo di italia. sono grata per la benedizione che ho avuto di servirli. sopratutto sono grata al mio Salvatore e Redentore per cio che mi insegna ogni giorno. mi ha preparato per questa missione, mi ha aiutato mentre ho servito, e so che mi aiuterà anche dopo. so con tutto il mio cuore che questa è la vera chiesa. so che il libro di mormon è un vero libro. so che joseph smith è un profeta, e so che presidente hinckley è il profeta oggi. so che Dio ha un piano per noi. ha restaurato questo piano tramite il profeta Joseph Smith. ha creato questo piano perchè ci ama e vuole che torniamo a Lui. io so che Gesù è il Cristo. ha soferto per me personalmente, e vive oggi per me. è il mio Maestro, lo amo, e lo servirò ogni giorno della mia vita.

''come to the edge'' He said. ''No, i'll fall.''

''come to the edge!'' so i came to the edge, He pushed me,

and i FLEW."

"The prize is worth the price"

-Elder Nelson

Vote

2008-10-02T18:04:00.005-06:00

Barack Obama: Charming, but idealistic.

John McCain: Experienced, but grumpy.

Joe Biden: Aggressive, but from Delaware.

Sarah Palin: Confident, but vague.

Mel: Practically perfect in every way.

Moral of the story: If you vote for me all your wildest dreams will come true.

Disaster

2008-10-01T22:38:00.002-06:00

Okay, forget the economic crisis, gas prices, and the war in Iraq. This is the worst thing that could have happened in our world. Armageddon is coming, folks.

(On another non-disaster-related note, I took a long shower the other day. Thanks to this amazing time to shampoo and condition I was graced with an incredible hair day. Seriously. I'm telling you, it was hot. Like, if I weren't me, I would want to be me. And because of this, I decided not to cut the locks. Sorry to those of you who voted contrary. I'll probably cut it all off eventually anyway, so don't give up. Besides, you never know what can happen. Who knows? Maybe next time I go in for a slight trim the hairdresser will be confused and bic it. One can only hope.)

PS- Happy October!

Chop Chop

2008-09-25T16:48:00.002-06:00

I want to do this to my hair. Now.

Seeing Stars

2008-09-16T12:23:00.001-06:00

Once upon a time, Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson went on a camping trip. They pitched their tent under the stars and then went to sleep. In the middle of the night Holmes awakened and exclaimed, “Watson, look up and tell me what you deduce.” Watson opened his eyes, and said, “I see billions and billions of stars. It’s likely that some of these stars have planetary systems. Furthermore, I deduce that there is probably oxygen on some of these planets, and it’s possible that life has developed on a few of them.” Is that what you see? Holmes replied, “No, you idiot. Somebody stole our tent!”

There is an interesting idea contained in the story, namely, that the obvious is sometimes hard to see. This lesson that was re-taught to me today. Allow me to elaborate.

Today at work we found an old, dusty, dimly lit, hidden walk-in closet. Seriously. I swear it has never been there before. I cannot tell you how excited this made me. I love mysterious happenings, such as the random discovery of foreign coins or rain on a particularly sunny day. So, as you can imagine, the sudden appearance of a small room in one of the break-off hallways excited me tremendously. This event was, in a word, monumental.

Closets, as you know, have a fantastic history of mischievousness. They have been known to transport children to mystic lands where centaurs battle and lions reign. They have the potential of bringing monsters to disturb your slumber. They have thwarted the rules of time and space by aging those inside them. They have even housed outcast child wizards. I remember reading as a kid about a certain cupboard which had the ability to bring small toy Indians to life. Basically, all closets, wardrobes, cupboards and the like are generally known to the masses as portals to unknown worlds, and/or are prime witnesses to the most covert of secrets, the birthplace of evil of plots, and the home to the future rulers of the magic kingdom.

My mind, overactive as ever, therefore immediately jumped to the possibilities contained in the appraisal of this old closet. I began eying the employees here in the engineering building with a much more suspicious eye, wondering which of them knew the Closet existed, and which feigned ignorance. What kind of battles have previously ensued, and are perhaps still ensuing, over full Closet possession? I could see it all- the Solutions Engineering Team vs. the Platform Engineering Team, duking it out, bartering their lives, plotting and scheming, prepared to take over the Closet by any means possible, regardless of the cost. I wondered how I fit in the picture, seeing as I was now in on the secret. Would I play the part of negotiator between the opposing sides? Or would I have to choose? And what consequences would that choice bring? I then quickly mapped out possible escape routes, in the case of complete building destruction, which, of course, was inevitable.

It was this point when I remembered Catherine Moorland, whose downfall came about because of an unusually excited mind. I also remembered the story of Sherlock and Watson, and realized I was seeing stars when I should be seeing a place at which to put white board cleaner, compressed air cans, and other boring objects.

That's when I put down the suspicious looking stick of holly with phoenix-feather core that I found in the Closet in question and went back to work. I am still torn as to whether this act consisted of a victory or a defeat.

A note to all readers: This is what happens when you are home schooled for any amount of time. Logic is momentarily thrown out the window and practicality is thrust aside as your imagination expands to include the vast implications of mundane events. Beware.

Breaking Down

2008-09-07T20:40:00.000-06:00

Warning: There be spoilers ahead!!!

One of two things may happen as a result of this post:

1) The combined global forces of the Stephenie Meyer fan club, united in their wrath against all who dare to blaspheme their mascots' name, will march their armies toward my humble, unsuspecting, Provo-dwelling abode and proceed to carry out a brutal but long-standing tradition amongst obsessive groupies against the few but strong who have managed to avoid capture into their dark and all consuming culture. I know about this tradition because at age 13 I, too, liked NSYNC. The other possible result is...

2)Nothing.

Eh. I'll risk it.

So here you go, folks. Without further ado, here's my review on Breaking Dawn by Stephenie Meyer.

Ok, y'alls. The time has come for a normal, young, single girl to come forward and admit what so many are vehemently denying: Book four of Stephenie Meyer's smashing Twilight series is a load of baloney.

I did not enjoy it. Not one bit. So much so, that I remain stupefied that so many people do claim to like it. Not that I am always right, but I simply cannot understand why anyone would like this book. If I could only have a glimpse into why anyone with an IQ over seventeen would genuinely like this then I would remain silent. Alas, my failed attempts to understand the opposing point of view have left me seriously reconsidering the state of humanity.

But let us lay aside (for now) my sudden doubts concerning the future of mankind and focus on the story in all its blazing gore and glory...

Let's be objective about this. Bella falls in love, as so many of us do, with a vampire. This makes Bella relatable. And then this vampire, the devastatingly beautiful and eternally seventeen-year-old Edward Cullen (also relatable), falls in love with her. Throw in the wild card, Jacob Black (a sixteen-year-old boy who is so infatuated that he runs away as a werewolf for months to pine for his lost love. This character is the most relatable of all, as I'm sure any 16-year-old boy would agree) and you've got one heck of a romance. Right?

WRONG. Forget the draw of forbidden love, the power of friendship, the agony of choice, and the anguish of sacrifice. Breaking Dawn takes it all, pats it on the head, and puts it in a nice pink package with a pretty bow on top for us all to look at and conclude with inevitable certainty that ALL our problems will ALWAYS end in the best possible (or even impossible) manner. So don't worry about whatever pickle you're in, girls. Whether it be marriage, school troubles, lies, financial worries, pregnancy, deception, legal issues, it doesn't matter. There will always be someone there who will take care of everything for you. Oh, and you'll get all the credit. And then he'll talk about your feelings with you afterwords.

Now, I believe in the power of love. But I also believe in the power of growth. And growth does not come without pain. But that is how we learn. Like CS Lewis said, we learn of the power of the wind by walking against it, not by laying down. I don't particularly like pain. But the outcome (maturity, responsibility, experience, strength, real love...) is irreplaceable.

So where's Bella's pain? Don't tell me it's in those drizzly Saturday afternoons when her beloved is off hunting cheetahs or whatever and her heart so longs to be close to him that it hurts.

We've all put up with Bella's dependent nature for a good long while. The time was ripe for a little growth. And Breaking Dawn offered the promise of a girl turning into a woman. NAY, fair folk, not so for Bella. No, Miss.-Swan-turned-Mrs.-Cullen quickly learns that being a child is the way to go. Independence, leadership, education, ambition, all that stuff is, like, totally overrated.

Bella's character aside, you can't ignore the gaping plot holes. First, you've got the infamous love-triangle that has been built up for hundreds and hundreds of pages... which gets completely resolved in about a paragraph. Then you're faced with the reaction of what Bella's parents will think of her turning into a vampire and a teenage mother all at once (what father accepts that so blindly??!?) OH, and then there's the dozens of random last-minute characters that do nothing and change nothing. And don't get me started on the final battle in the end. Wait, did I say battle? I meant to say FIFTY PAGES OF STINKIN NOTHING. Of all the anticlimactic, sentimental, superficial, ridiculous endings, this is the worst. Nothing happens, and so nothing in the book is satisfying. I was so bored I cried.

Publisher's Weekly put it best: "Essentially, everyone gets everything they want, even if their desires necessitate an about-face in characterization or the messy introduction of some back story. Nobody has to renounce anything or suffer more than temporarily--in other words, grandeur is out. This isn't about happy endings; it's about gratification. A sign of the times?" (I believe this finally answers the question once and for all on the Rowling vs Meyer war. Harry would never get a review like this.)

I've seen many a level-headed person succumb to the Twilight craze, much as they might to a particularly powerful and passionate, albeit ridiculous, dream. And I can see why. Twilight was intoxicating, New Moon draining, Eclipse exhausting. But I think the spell was finally broken after The Host . So here we are with Breaking Dawn. Seriously, what is the deal, people?! WHY in the names of the Brothers Grimm and Aesop and other creators of interesting stories do you LIKE this book!??!

For me, personally, I'm done. I’m done flinching at this terrible-but-compelling writing. I’m done wincing at her creepy relationships. I’m done cringing at the downright sickish age differences. No more flinching, wincing, or cringing for me. Stephenie Meyer, I’m quitting you. (And yes, I’m aware that this threat has little value having now read all her books. But it’s gotta stop somewhere.)

And now a plea for validation. This post has been a long time coming. So I now bring you the final question: Does anyone out there agree with me on this? Anyone? Please??

(PS- Apparently the above book cover image was an option for the Breaking Dawn cover. At least that's what popped up when I googled it. I think it looks like the leftover splat of a broken nail polish bottle. Slightly more representitive of the novel, I thought.)

the REAL-ER mel

2008-08-29T17:57:00.001-06:00

This post is dedicated to the other half of the Mel forces, lovingly referred to by some as Team Smell, my lovely roommate and one of the most generous people I know, the fabulous Miss Melanie.

Thanks to Mel I have re-fallen in love with Bollywood.
Thanks to Mel I have finally seen the classic North and South.
Thanks to Mel I have finally jumped on the Coldplay bandwagon.
Thanks to Mel my Portuguese has taken OFF, man. Legal.
Thanks to Mel (and Itamar) my parking skills have grown exponentially.
Thanks to Mel I have found the hilarity that is Eric Snyder.
Thanks to Mel I now have a deep love for Brazilian food. And Brazilian earrings.
Thanks to Mel I now am determined to adopt from Mozambique.
Thanks to Mel I have a new appreciation for all things vintage.
Thanks to Mel I am terrified of pressure cookers.
Thanks to Mel I have an always willing movie buddy.
Thanks to Mel I know more about soundtracks than ever before.

Mel, you are simply fab. Thanks for the midnight chats and constant laughs. North Downs #2 has been a smashing success of a summer. I will miss you!

PS- Congrats on the engagement!!! Dan's a lucky dude.

Panda Wisdom Part 2

2008-08-25T09:34:00.001-06:00

I learned two things this weekend:

1- What windfall means. (And for those of you curious enough to wonder, it has nothing to do with waterfalls, rainfalls, snowfalls, or freefalls. This term is very misleading if you ask me.) (And I call myself an English major.)

2- Fortunes from Panda Express come true. Thanks Panda.

Panda Wisdom

2008-08-22T13:18:00.000-06:00

This is what the fortune in my fortune cookie says:

"An unexpected windfall

will soon be yours."

What the heck's a windfall??

True Story

2008-08-13T15:38:00.000-06:00

The Following event just occurred:

My coworker Wes walked in my office and asked,
Wes: "Melissa, are you planning on participating in the weekly office volleyball game today?"
Mel: "I would love to, but I can't this week because I need all 40 work hours. Gotta pay the bills, ya know?"
Wes: "You have to play! We miss you!"
Mel: "I really can't today. Sorry Charlie. Er... Wes."
Wes: What will it take to get you to play? Roses? Chocolate?"
Mel: "Both."

(Author's note: That last remark of mine was intended to be indubitably sarcastic. Based on the laughter that followed the comment I'd like to think the understanding of the sarcasm was mutual.)

About a half hour later Wes walked silently back into my office... followed by his entire staff, which consists of about nine men, all holding Lindor Chocolates. One by one they silently laid the chocolate on my desk. Lastly, Wes handed me a card with a picture of roses on it. Inside the card, each of these dear coworkers and volleyball regulars had given their personal regret at my recent absence from the sport, and solicited my return. This silent plea for my change of heart was greeted with copious amounts of pleasure by my coworkers AND my boss, AND HER boss (who comes down to this building maybe once every other month), and several more people who happened to choose that precise moment to be in the office. Needless to say, I was amused, surprised, amazed, and, to put it in the immortal words of Larry the Cuccumber, shocked and slightly embarrassed.

And now I have to explain to my boss' boss that I really didn't encourage this behaviour, nor am I the office flirt, nor is it typical to have a dozen men bringing me chocolate in one day. Not that I mind the chocolate. It's the audience that got me blushing.

And, yes, I did in fact play in the stinking volleyball game.

Grateful

2008-08-11T11:33:00.000-06:00

When I was a junior in high school a friend of mine and I collaborated and made a list of things we were grateful for. It was not Thanksgiving, it was not a school assignment, there was no real reason, we just wanted to increase our happiness levels and thought we'd give it a shot. Little did we know just how spectacularly brilliant this idea was. Not only did our moods change for the better that day, but we found ourselves to be consistently more positive, encouraging, thankful, friendly, happy people. We faithfully added to this list throughout the remainder of high school, but once college hit we sadly lost track of each other and our list. As I was going through some old papers the other day, I found my list and re-read through all the things I was grateful for. Since it's been five years (gasp!) since I last updated my grateful list, I decided the time is ripe to make some much needed additions. I am grateful for...

-All my roommates and mission companions. Yes, all twenty-three of you.
-My American Citizenship
-Pixar
-Nutella e bucaneve biscotti
-Wind
-Forks
-People that will kill spiders for me
-Calculators. Seriously.
-Ideas
-Sewing Machines
-Tylenol PM, herbal tea, heating pads, and other aids in the fight against insomnia
-Brick Oven Root Beer
-Getting Published
-Italians- their language, culture, food, passion, the chance I had to serve them.
-My Nipotini: Samwise the Brave, the Sophinator, Baby Zachary, and the Trav-meister
-The SALE rack at Banana Republic
-Books Books Books
-Paul Mitchell Shampoo and Conditioner
-Sette Bello: the BEST pizzeria on this side of the Atlantic
-Siblings that live close by
-The fact that stated siblings never make me change their kids' diapers, and let me just play with them instead, and then thank me for it
-Road Trips
-So You Think You Can Dance...Dance...Dance...
-Traveling
-Card games- particularly Hand and Foot
-The Jones Family Cabin
-Jake's mad face
-Dollar Menus
-Bocce Ball
-Josh Groban
-Fantasy Baseball Monopoly
-the Florence Markets
-Sunglasses
-Plan B. and Plan C. and D, E, and sometimes F.
-Being a Brunette
-M. Night Shyamalan
-Harry Potter and the Deathly Hollows
-Dreams
-Broadway
-Cold Milk
-Creative Writing
-Color
-The Fam-damily
-Income
-Independence
-David Cook
-Long Conversations
-Inspiration
-Disagreements
-Calling Cards
-Albus Phinneas Velocissimo the First
-Clocks
-Balloons
-Lists
-Mountains
-Nick Names
-Treasure Hunts
-Road Trips
-Not killing innocent bunnies on road trips
-Not being killed by not-so-innocent deer on stated road trips
-The smell of rain
-New Beginnings

Just thought I'd let you know that I'm not always a sarcastic critic. I've actually been known to be quite pleasant, contrary to common belief. I like stuff. And I'm grateful for my life.

And I really do want world peace.

Binzed.

2008-08-06T13:24:00.000-06:00

So. Here's what's been going on lately.

First off, I have BIG NEWS. Gloria's Little Italy, located on 300 South here in Prov-ba-dovo, is now selling my all time favorite biscotti in the WORLD: Bucaneve. Dip these babies in the goodness called Nutella and your reasons for living will be revolutionized. This is terrible news for my waistline. Do I care? Um... No.

Also on the good news front, Tinathan just bought a vespa and I, having best friend privileges, got a ride around Provo yesterday. I still think "the scorpion" is a fitting name. =D

Okay, so I stayed up late every night this week, avoided friends and family, ignored phone calls, food and water, and basically reverted into the hollow of my appartment in the attitude of a crack addict trying to get their latest fix, all in efforts to finish the latest instalment to the infamous Twilight series... and I hated it. Seriously. The story was so rediculously unfulfilling on so many levels I felt like writing a letter of complaint. Does anyone else in the universe agree with me on this?!?!??

Back to happy things. My last two companions from the mish are on their way home from Italia this next week and I am so freaking excited to see them. Forza!

Also, my little Lindsey Bacon Bits turned 10 this past Monday! Go Binz!

Earlier this weekend I met up with my darling sophinator and met my new nephew, the trav-meister! They are freaking gnarly. For more information on them click here.

I also went road trippin with these fellas. My nipotini are awesome.

So, having a fun full week has been great, but now I'm binzed. (Aka, I now feel like this:)

NY, NY

2008-07-25T08:15:00.000-06:00

REASONS WHY MY WEEKEND ROCKED:

First I saw the midnight showing of this movie:

Then promptly boarded a plane to go to this city:

Where I hung out with these people:

And fell in love with this store:

And ate this gelato:

And walked across this bridge:

To get to this city:

Waited in this line:

And at this table:

To get this pizza... oh heaven on a platter:

Then wore this jersey to the Yankees game:

Then shopped on this street:

Chilled in this park:

And in this certain center of the Rockefellar:

Saw this play:

And this one:

Walked around in this square:

And wore these guys out:

How was your weekend?

Book Reviews

2008-07-14T09:03:00.000-06:00

The Sparrow by Mary Doria Russell: Father Emilio Sandoz is the only survivor of a failed Jesuit mission to the planet Rakhat. We first meet him in Italy, sullen, bitter and horribly sick, but he was not always this way, as we learn through flashbacks that tell the story of the ill-fated trip. Bouncing back and forth between Sandoz's hopeful past and broken present, The Sparrow explores the nature of the soul, the dangers and benefits of religion, and the power of choice. Russell's entertaining infusion of humor keeps the book from becoming too dark, although some of the characters are so clever that they sometimes seem contrived. I loved the debates on the influence of history, spirituality, and humanity. The Sparrow tackles these difficult subjects with grace and intelligence. I was still thinking about this compelling novel weeks after finishing it. I still am, actually.

Me Talk Pretty One Day by David Sedaris: Oh. My. Hilarity. This compilation of autobiographical short stories gives us a glimpse into the author's odd life and invites us to laugh along with him. And laugh you will. While reading I started folding down the corner of pages that made me laugh out loud. I folded down dozens and dozens of pages. Sedaris strikes the perfect chord between searing humor, wicked observance, and brutal sarcasm, all while maintaining a certain amount of tenderness. (Funny, that's my exact goal with every blog entry. Only Sedaris actually succeeds.) Viciously funny, sometimes crude, wildly entertaining, and surprisingly endearing, Sedaris delivers big time.

The Host by Stephenie Meyer: Okay, okay, so I read the entire Twilight series and was just as enraptured by it as the next girl. Having confessed this, I was looking forward to Meyer's romantic take on the sci-fi genre. I was disappointed. One-dimensional characters and a predictable plot failed to supply more than a boring and slow-moving bedtime story. I think the biggest let down was the failure to follow through on a surprisingly promising premise: Humanity battling extinction, a rouge Soul with the power to tip the scales if she can find the courage, and the weirdest love triangle you'll ever hear about, together could have potentially provided an intense tale of survival. The issues of prejudice and loyalty, bravery and recklessness, hope and helplessness, and love and betrayal could have brought a rockin story. But I was dissatisfied with the lack of answers, or even exploration, to these tough questions. Not to mention the fact that Wanda is the most annoying character I've encountered since Professor Umbridge. I'd love to support a fellow BYU English major's blossoming career, but, sorry Meyer, I just wasn't captivated.

The Power of One by Bryce Courtenay: No novel I have ever read has captured the heart of a nation the way Courtenay captures South Africa with this truly heartbreaking tale of dreams in a time of war. The lonely, brilliant protagonist, Peekay, takes us on a journey through his childhood and adolescence where he faces racism, cruelty, blind violence, and harsh politics, often at a personal, graphic level. On the way he finds acceptance, drama, adventures, disappointment, triumph, friends, enemies, life, death, wisdom, faith, and, most of all, the influence, belief, and power of one. Disturbing in its accuracy, refreshing in its innocence, and inspiring in its hope, this novel is beautifully, beautifully written.

Mel vs. Wild

2008-07-07T12:12:00.001-06:00

Camping: The journey from two different perspectives...

The Preparation
WILD: Okay boys and girls! Time to rally up those cowboy boots and cans of bug spray! We're going CAMPING!! Are you ready to shed the technological weight that has burdened your existence thus far? Then let's go! Leave your cell phones, laptops, iPods, behind - we're going into the woods! No Internet, no running water, no beds, absolutely nothing that is not absolutely necessary for survival.
MEL: Um, excuse me, please? Did you just say there will not be anything "necessary for survival" and that there will be "no running water" in the same sentence?

The Hike
WILD: Alright everyone! On this hike to the camp site we've got a goal to find (insert the names of 3 different obscure birds) Oh look! There's a (djhkdjh-bird)! Just look at that buffalo! And that bear cub! The mother's bound to be nearby.
MEL: (holds out walking stick as a weapon and jumps at the slightest sound while left eye twitches at sporadic intervals.)

The Food
WILD: And NOW for one of the best parts about camping- the CHASE!! That's right, folks, you'll all be hunting for your own food here in the great outdoors. Once the animal is killed you will also have the blessed responsibility of preparing it for your dinner. Your efforts will all be rewarded with s'mores! Happy Hunting!
MEL: Okay, s'mores are awesome. But they're supposed to be eaten. Preferably at the beach. Not used as target practice with the leftover bullets. Another concern...you left me alone and go romping out in the forest with a gun, and now you have blood on your shirt. Am I supposed to be comforted? No, I will NOT skin that animal. Or eat it, for that matter. I'm seriously freaked out now. How am I supposed to make sure I don't get shot, keep an eye out for that suspicious looking moose we saw on the hike, and eat a s'more all at once? Seriously, people. I don't know how much more my nerves can handle.

The Activities
WILD: Now that we're all full, except for the sour looking vegetarian in the back, it's time for the games!! Campfire songs, who smells the worst contests, and Who Has The Most Bug Bites contests! That last one should be good since most the bugs come out at night! Let's get started!! MORMON MORMON MORMON MORMON MORMON MORMON MORMON MORMON...
MEL: Your obvious exuberance at my ability to attract bugs is very unnerving. I've already lathered on so much bug repellent I'm probably severely poisoned, but I'll lather on a little more just to spite the bugs. And if I have to hear one more round of Mormon Boy I'll scream. And who you callin' sour?!?!

The Night
WILD: At last! Time to simmer down. No no, no sleeping bags here. No tents either. This is REAL camping. Find a rock to lay your head on, cuddle up to the dirt floor, and make friends with the creepy crawlies in the grass. You deserve this kind of relaxation. So go ahead and rest from your day. Lay back, and enjoy the night sounds of the wild.
MEL: How am I still alive? (question stated less as a philosophical musing than as an irritated frustration.)

The Conclusion
WILD: Camping. A wonderful, inspiring, refreshing experience whereby man can experience nature, return to the basics, and get away from the noise of modern life.
MEL: I need a vacation.

Cuddle Cakes

2008-06-26T14:38:00.000-06:00

This is what I will look like in 60 years.

This is proof that I really do belong in this family.

This is someone who loved me.

Thanks for disproving everyone elses theory that I got switched with Pocahontas' baby in the hospital, Grandma. Say hi to Gramps.

"NEXT"

2008-06-23T12:29:00.000-06:00

I am new to Goodreads. For those unaware, Goodreads is a great website where you can create lists of books you want to read, are currently reading, and already have read. You can write your own book reviews, rate novels, and browse for books of your taste, and read reviews others have written. In other words, it's a great website for literary gluttons such as my myself.

However, this website is not as user-friendly to newbies as I would like. Because I am not yet intimately familiar with the inner workings of Goodreads I was somewhat confused the other day when on the Goodreads homepage I was greeted with an extensive list of people that the Goodreads gods thought I would want to share book info with. I glanced at the list and was surprised to find that this list was none other than my gmail address book.

If you have gmail then you already know that it automatically saves every, and I mean every, email address you've ever sent anything to. Ever. Now I've had my gmail account for about five years. In the past five years I have moved thirteen times and lived in eleven wards. In the past five years I have lived in three different states, in two different countries, and in four different time zones. In the past five years I have worked eight different jobs, attended seven funerals, finally surrendered to the fact that I will never be a morning person, had over 9 different phone numbers, learned a new language, taken over 40 college classes, become an aunt, seen the Pope, and gone 18 months without kissing. (That last part is irrelevant, but my friends say it's highly impressive. When you spend that same 18 months of celibacy surrounded by beautiful Italian men, I have to agree.)

My point in taking you on a whirlwind tour of my past five years is to help you understand the obscene amount of people I have emailed in that time. That is a LOT of emails. Not to mention the mass emails to large groups of people that I may or may not have ever had a face-to-face conversation with. For example, I have sent large email blasts to about 130 Relief Society women reminding them to read the lesson before church on Sunday. Times that number by the aforementioned eleven wards. Do the math. Yeah. And that's just one example.

So, that Goodreads list of potential Goodreads friends was LONG. My decision as to whether or not I wanted to reconnect with my Visiting Teachers from Helaman Halls and my co-workers from Century Bank in Boston was pretty much automatic. I love all those people dearly. But, no thanks. Not that I don't wish them well, I am just not a big keep-in-touch kind of person. Therefore, I didn't want to take the time to go through the massive list and sift out the friends and family from the other random people. So I simply clicked the painfully ambiguous "NEXT" button.

Oh cursed button! Oh fatal error! Thou hauntest my memory and my inbox.

Ever since that fateful moment I have received email after email, mostly from people I swear I have never met in my life, stating: "Your friend list on Goodreads is growing. (Insert name here) has accepted your friend request. See (insert same name here)'s profile now." At first I was just confused. But then in a moment of blistering realization I remembered the "NEXT" Button and realized what I had done: emailed every single person of the hundreds of people in my address book and asked them to be my friend. Like an insecure eleven-year-old.

The surprise is that many of these people have said yes, they WILL be my friend. (I wonder... would I feel less pathetic if they said no?) This makes me think that either I made such a wonderful impression somewhere in the past 5 years that they were overjoyed to hear from me (regardless of whether it was accidentally or intentionally sent and even though it was a short automatically generated email), OR they are one of those chronic friend collectors that just says yes to anything and everything. Like those Facebook junkies with 73549 "friends", about twelve of whom do they actually see on a regular basis.

I feel, in a word, sheepish. Not only have I cultivated bitter feelings towards a website that I otherwise might have grown to love, and not only did I accidentally contact everyone I have ever met since my high school graduation, but I have simultaneously put myself in the tricky position of wondering what the heck to do now.

The way I see it, I have two options:

Option One: Re-email all the hundreds of people I accidentally contacted, explain the situation, apologize for my error, reassure them that I have no intention of harassing their inboxes with pointless emails in the future, and then go on my merry way, once again secure in my borderline-hermit identity.

Option Two: Do nothing. Maybe blog about it if I think the whole situation is awkward enough to be kind of awesome.

Clearly, I chose the latter.

(PS- An explanation of the above picture: I feel like Wallace at the moment when his peaceful, quiet existence is invaded with a billion innocent looking sheep (read: Goodreads emails) who eat his cheese and his slippers. This also explains the earlier "sheepish" comment.)

(PSS- On an unrelated note, the Cheez-Its I brought to work somehow taste like Jolly Ranchers. Sigh. I've had better days.)

Imposter!

2008-06-16T08:57:00.000-06:00

You know, "Melissa" is a fairly common name. Not like "Brittany", "Amy", "Emily", or "Sarah", but still, I've met my fair share of people who share my name. It's all good. I don't particularly like going by "Melissa M.", "the brunette Melissa", or "the Melissa from the OC" (I especially detest that one), but I've come to terms with the fact that there are enough other people out there with my name that qualifies others to make a differentiation when faced with the task of discerning between yours truly and the other Melissas.

One common differentiation tactic is nick-names. I am in huge favor of said tactic. I have inherited the relm of nick-naming from my Grandpa Moorhead. What can I say - it's genetic. My personal nick-names have ranged from "Shiggitoshi Hasagawa" to "Sugar" to "BMG", to name a few. While "Belle" has pretty much stuck within the fam circle, the name that has seemed to stick on a universal level is "Mel".It's now to the point that people introduce me to their friends as "Mel" instead of "Melissa". I have no squabble with this. Everyone I know inevitably ends up calling me "Mel" anyway, so might as well start now. The problem with "Mel" is that people often mistake my given name to be "Melanie", "Melody", or "Meliqua". I like those names. They're just not mine. But, you know, whatever. It's never been a problem before...

Alas. It has recently been brought to my attention that there is another Mel out there. This is no ordinary Mel. This particular Mel has a blog, and this particular blog is conveniently titled "The Real Mel" (wow, catchy theme). So, not only do we have a common name and a common outlet for our creative juices, but we also, independently of one another, came up with the same name for our blogs AND made our site address deceptively similar, making it even harder for the masses to separate my blog from hers.

This Mel is very sneaky.

Let me attempt to be diplomatic about this. Everyone expresses themselves differently. I would be perfectly content to just let her be her dramatic self, so long as people didn't mistake the two of us. (Though, honestly, anyone who knows me at all should know that black bleeding butterflies are the last thing I would decorate anything I owned with.)

I'm afraid it's happened. People have begun to mistake the two of us, much to my dismay. The situation now calls for a little illumination. I have never met this Mel. Please do not confuse us two. (Upon further inspection it turns out we actually don't have the same name. Just the same nick-name. Once this revelation was discovered I felt a little better about myself.) However, the need for clarification remains. So here it is: I am not her, and she is not me. So, if you stumble across her site and accidentally mistake it for mine, beware. You might be a tad shocked and will probably mourn the loss of your level-headed, sarcastic friend and wonder whether she still exists under all the passive-aggresive honey and cupcakes. You may even suspect a Stepford Wives type occurrence or start looking for signs of alien intervention in my life. The difference is that dramatic. I guess next time one of you asks me in an all-too-casual way whether I would consider myself more similar to Jane Austen or Britney Spears, I'll know why.

You've been warned.

Craving

2008-06-09T10:42:00.000-06:00

I have received some complaints that my blog is seriously lacking in the whole photo area. I blame it on the fact that I have no kids to post pictures of. And let's be honest - pictures of children are way cuter than pictures of yours truly. But right now I have a serious craving for a #2 grilled onions no lettuce and a chocolate shake, and I also happen to have some pictures of said bliss. So I thought I'd kill two birds with one stone (bird 1 being the need to post pictures and bird 2 being the need for some In-N-Out) and post some pics of my craving.

I frequented In-N-Out religiously throughout my life until I moved to a state whose major flaw is the lack of this famed burger joint. (Good news for those who don't already know: In-N-Out just opened in St. George!!! Hallelujah.) I then spent 18 months of my life where Burgers themselves are near impossible to come by. However, one day while walking the streets of Cagliari (a small town on the southern coast of the Italian Island Sardegna) I came across this sign. That was a great day. I knew Italy was awesome.

This photo of my sister Lindsey Bacon Bits and I was taken on the first day home from said 18-month escapade. Clearly I had my priorities right.

After the Purge.

I'm hungry.

A to Z Tag

2008-06-03T12:07:00.000-06:00

A to Z about me...

I've been tagged. This is the kind of thing that I always erase without opening when it shows up in my email inbox. But since I'm relatively new to the blogging world, I figured I better comply lest the magical blog gods detect my reluctance and kick me out of their world before I've established my charming wit and staggering brilliance. Bear with me.

A-Attached or Single? Most definitely and happily single, despite the many hints that we need another wedding in the family.
B-Best Friend? I tend to use that term loosely... Tin, Shea, Jo, Lizzie, Summer, and, of course, Sweet Weese, Bark, Little Naner, Baby Jake, and my Lindsey Bacon Bits. To name a few.
C-Cake or pie? Depends... Pumpkin Pie is dreamy, but I'll eat any cake with Grandma Frosting on it.
D-Day of choice? Saturday
E-Essential Item? Calculators. Seriously.
F-Favorite color? Black and Red.
G-Gummy bears or worms? I'm not a huge Gummy fan to be honest.
H-Home town? I'll give myself split-home-town-citizenship: Downey, CA and Mission Viejo, CA.
I-Ideal Vacation? NYC
J-January or July? January.
K-Kids? Someday.
L-Life isn't complete without: Good Books, paper, and a really great pen. And chocolate.
M-Marriage date? Heck if I know.
N-Number of Siblings? 3 Sisters 2 Brothers
O-Oranges or Apples? I LOVE oranges. Apples make me puke. Really. Actually I think I might be allergic to them.
P-Phobias? Spiders. Gross.
Q-Quote? "Has anyone in this family ever even seen a chicken?" -Michael Bluth
R-Reasons to smile? It takes more energy to frown, and personally I'm all in favor of energy conservation.
S-Season of choice? Fall.
T-Tag 3 people: Let's go with Lizzie, Nat, and Tin. Sorry.
U-Unknown fact about me? According to the Myers-Briggs test I am an INTJ. This probably means nothing to you. So here's something else: I've never lost a limbo contest. Fact.
V-Vegetable? Vegetables are a necessary evil. Much like waking up early and exercising. It's one of those things that I do because I have to, and have learned to put my mind in another place while consuming in order to preserve sanity. I wish chocolate was healthy.
W-Worst habit? ................ umm................. my tendency to avoid answering questions that I don't want to answer?..........
X-Xray or Ultrasound? I've never had either one, unless you count the x-rays you get at the dentist where you have to bite down on those uncomfortable chunks of plastic and wear the heavy metallic blanket thingee while the AI floatee dealio circles your head looking for cavities and the like. I'm hoping ultrasounds are a little better. But I hear the gel stuff they use smells bad. Alas. I fear this is a lose-lose question.
Y-Your favorite food? What Leese said: Hot-out-of-the-oven chocolate chip cookies. Can't beat that.
Z-Zodiac sign: Saggitarious. Or do you spell it Sagiterius? Saggatarus? Sagittarius? Anyway, it's the month of the half man/half horse thing about to take out some harmless creature with a bow and arrow. Don't know what I'm supposed to get from that....

Okay Blog Gods, I did it. Sigh.

Wack to Bork

2008-05-30T14:52:00.000-06:00

So here I am, just chillin on another normal day at work. When you work at the Engineering Branch of the Office of Information Technology, "normal" is subjective. All sorts of things happen in a building where the ground is prone to earthquake-like tremors due to the construction next door, two of the three stories in the building are condemned, and the grass, yes, grass, in the front periodically gets stolen. The people inside, myself included, tend to resemble the eclectic nature of the building. It is common to see and hear some pretty random stuff. For example, I was just told a long story about one of the Engineers that concluded with the following moral:

"Walking downtown in your underpants is sure to get you arrested."

Welp, wack to bork.

Narnia

2008-05-28T08:24:00.000-06:00

Just a quick plug for the best movie I've seen in a while...

THE CHRONIC-WHAT-CLES OF NARNIA: PRINCE CASPIAN

Summary, Review, Thoughts, and other Random Notes:

The Kings and Queens of Narnia are back... but their beloved mystical kingdom is not as they remember it. Now a savage place, the land is ruled by corrupt leaders and the ancient Narnians are on the brink of extinction. Enter Prince Caspian - noble, brave, and way too good looking for his own good- forced into exile by his wicked uncle, this young warrior with perfect hair joins forces with Aslan's army, and together with Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy leads the outnumbered band against the evil King Miraz and the Telmarines.

Despite the apparent LOTR similarities in strange creatures, fortress attacks, and leafy soldiers that tip the odds, I thoroughly enjoyed this film presentation of CS Lewis' book. Any similarities between the two films are due to similarities in the book, not unoriginality on the films part. So when you can't help but look for pointy ears on Susan (aka Legolas in girl form), it's okay. Narnia has enough of it's own charm to overcome feeling like a Middle Earth wannabe.

Mad props go to the casting directors. Especially Edmund. I think he's my favorite Pevensie. Congratulations all around on that one. The score was beautiful. The script also deserves mentioning. Fabulous minor characters, such as the Mouse. Anyone who doesn't think Narnia has Christian symbolism should watch the interchange between Lucy and Peter before the final battle. Yeah. One of my favorite cinematic experiences of the past six months includes the scene with the attack on the Telmarine castle. Never thought I'd be so moved over a Centaur.

There were a few things that were less than stellar, but still noteworthy. For example, Peter. The power struggle between Peter and Caspian, though psychologically interesting, left me more irritated at the High King rather than anxious for the outcome... granted, since stating this opinion I have been met with strong arguments in favor of Peter's character. Eh. To each his (or in this case, her) own. The plot, though good, was not great. Once again, fault of the book. Also, this movie is freaking long. Bring snacks. I was starving by the end. One last thought on this thread...The PG rating is a little misleading. I wouldn't take my 9-year-old sister to see it. It was much more violent than expected. Certainly darker and scarier then the first in the Narnia series. Having said that, there is no content that would deserve an automatic PG-13 rating... This is just one of those many movies that fits somewhere in between the two, providing further evidence to back my theory that we need an updated movie rating system. How about it, entertainment?

Still, I had a good old time at the movies. I'd highly recommend it. I'd even pay to go see it again. Good family film (if there are no little kids in your family), date movie, or girls-night-out flick. Inspirational, funny, sad, happy, and exciting. Though not perfect, I'd still give it four stars out of five. Whether it's worth the $48176578939.00 per ticket that theatres charge now days is up to you. But just in case you care in any way, shape, or form what I think, I say check it out, yo.

McDonnald's: A Tribute

2008-05-21T12:23:00.000-06:00

Mom is going to murder me for this post.

I like McDonald's. I really do. There's just something about the sight of those golden arches in the distance that make me warm and fuzzy all over. Not to mention the deliciousness that comes upon actual indulgence. To me McDonald's ranks high among the bright and severely unappreciated gems of our society.

This confession may startle those of you who believe that McDonald's personifies corporate evil, soullessness, and the formulatic exploitation of the working class by the rich. To all you shocked/uncomfortably amused/disgruntled (aka health conscious) people out there: I have something to say to you...

Many of you are participants in the widespread belief that McDonald's is the Evil Empire. To you, it is considered common knowledge that McDonald's is responsible and thus should be blamed for all the world's problems, including, but not limited to, poverty, Communism, the war in Iraq, and the below average grade on your child's latest report card. Many (including Subway) would have you believe that McDonald's, who has openly declared war on all things bright and beautiful, is the obvious culprit to such atrocities.

Your argument is not without substance. The movie Super Size Me clearly shows the negative effects of extremity. You have every right to be disgusted at the obsessive levels that guy went to to prove that too much McDonald's is, in fact, bad for you, and the inevitable result of eating too much of it is a cold dark hospital room full of charts and x-rays that undeniably prove that if you carry on in your eating habits without deviating whatsoever you have no choice but to die within the hour. Excess of anything is bad. I'm pretty sure most people understand this principle.

However, I, for one, do not think that McDonald's is run by Darth Vader. Try eating nothing but spinach, a vegetable commonly associated with children's hymns and newborn kittens and other things in the war against evil, and see how you feel when your skin starts turning green and people start proposing film plots on your personal dietary demise. McDonald's is not the devil, and partaking in the occasional Big Mac will not make you spontaneously burst into flames. Therefore, I hereby refute the belief that McDonald's has a secret agenda to purge the world of peace and happiness. Really. What's wrong with a Happy Meal (emphasis on happy) every once in a while?? McDonald's provides the appealing alternative to self-discipline. Perhaps not the healthier of the two, but hey. Opposition in all things, right? The key to a happy diet, and just about everything else, is balance, not avoidance. And so, I and my friend Ronald have devoted this blog in defense of the Golden Arches.

In efforts to lessen the blow on many of you who thought I was normal, allow me to explain my reasoning for stated affection by giving four reasons why McDonald's rocks...

Reason one: Convenience. Let's be honest. This is the reason fast food exists. Fast, easy, greasy delight that warms the soul. Immediate gratification, available in every country worldwide. Who else can offer such convenience? Not even Starbucks can boast such international service. A quick, warm bite that requires zero effort on your part. No preparation, no previous planning, no last minute trips to the grocery store because you forgot the chives and blue cheese dressing. Just drop by the selected window and make a simple transaction and voila! Food. Your food. Thank you, come again.

Reason two: Variety. Yes, variety really does exist at McDonald's. Breakfast, Lunch, Dinner, snacks, desserts, drinks...the list goes on. Your dining decisions are non limited to whether or not there is cheese on your hamburger. In fact, here are ten possible lunch options I bet you didn't know was at a McDonald's near you: Fillet-o-fish, Grilled Chicken Ranch BLT Sandwich, Chipotle BBQ Wrap, Honey Mustard Wrap, Southwest Salad with Grilled Chicken, Fruit and Walnut Salad, Asian Salad with Crispy Chicken, English Muffins, Fruit and Yogurt Parfait (optional: granola added), Apple Slices with Carmel Dip, and for dessert: Apple Pie. Enough said.

Reason three: Price. Two words: Dollar Menu. For college students and bargain shoppers alike, this is fabulous news. Breakfast, Lunch or Dinner, there is always something on the dollar menu to satisfy a craving. Some things are even cheaper. The knowledge that I can have a mini soft serve ice cream cone any time I want for the refreshingly cheap price of twenty-five cents has carried me through many a midterm and final study session. And I have a hunch will carry me through a few more.

Reason four: Correlation. I grew up in Southern Los Angeles, a mere three streets away from the world's oldest McDonald's. That's right, in a chain of over 20,000 stores worldwide, MY childhood was graced with this unique building and its 60 foot high neon sign with "Speedee the Chef"'. How's that for gnarly? Rumor has it that the site is eligible for a listing on the National Register of Historic Places. McDonald's is therefore my childhood claim to fame. This implies that I I'm indebted to McDonald's for making me so dang cool. Which is why I feel that the occasional Oreo McFlurry is not an indulgence but a small act of gratitude. It's the least I can do to thank the Golden Arches for my incredibly high amazingness status. That's just me. But I'm willing to bet each of you have your own memories. Next time you pull into the drive through, try remembering the hotcakes and happy meals of your childhood and just see how much your happiness levels increase.

In conclusion, next time you get a cheeseburger craving, go ahead. Indulge. In ten years, you probably won't care about the few extra calories you had that one day. If by some chance you do, the memory of greasy satisfaction will override any buried guilt. Besides, if it wasn't the cheeseburger, it probably would have been the fudge brownies waiting for you at home.

Ronald, my friend, this one's for you.

I'm lovin it.

Dedicated to the Nat, without whom I may never have been reminded why I so looked forward to Happy Meals as a child.

And dedicated to mom in hopes that through the act of dedication she decides not to murder me after all.

Ode to Soph

2008-05-14T08:43:00.000-06:00

Dear Soph-

Once upon a time you lived in the same podunk city as me. We laughed and played and made messes. We raced around your house with your stroller and your grocery cart, played with Easter Eggs, watched Pooh Bear, Sesame Street, and cousin Isaac on UTube, danced to Fergie and every one of my cell phone rings, and ripped out pages of your favorite books. Once your cousin Sam moved closer we often got together and created all sorts of chaos. Together we crawled through tunnels, performed amazing acrobatic tricks (at my back's expense), wore animal face masks, learned new words in Italiano, and found incredibly unlikely new uses for cardboard boxes.

But then something terrible happened. You moved to Colorado. I still go to Cottonwood Heights quite frequently, but the trip isn't the same without listening to "Philadelphia Chickens" and "Remarkable Cows" on repeat five billion times. Sam and I do our best to fill the void you have left by playing with your bubbles and looking at pictures of you on your parent's blog, but let's be honest - We miss you. And we'd like to hope you miss us too.

So. To express our regret at the new distance between us, Sam and I made a list of our top ten reasons why we can't wait for you to come back. Without further ado, here ya go, Bope...

10- Washing dishes is now regrettably a much more dry experience

9- Amore

8- 1...2...3... get out of the dark!

7- We miss Frank, Ned, Alice, and George

6- Ah Doo Dah, Ah Doo Dah, Ah Wee Ooo Way

5- Jumping on your mom's exercise ball

4- Zack wants to get to know you better

3- Super Why on the BIG TV

2- Your fashion statements with your cheetah print minis and always timeless hair

1- You can introduce us to your baby brother

Oh my little sophinator. How I miss you. I can't wait for you to come back and play with me again.

Love, Aunt Bel

PS- Major thanks to the past 5 months of Soph experiences for making this Blog posting possible

Clarification

2008-05-07T09:45:00.000-06:00

Okay, just so none of you think I am a wussy-pants because of my last post, I have compiled a list of things that do NOT bother me in the slightest:

-Snakes
-Needles
-Slugs
-Darkness
-Clowns
-Silence
-Blood
-Heights
-Enclosed spaces
-Open spaces
-Solitude
-Night
-Driving
-Tunnels
-Being underground
-Water
-Strangers
-Bees
-Germs
-Thunder
-Lightning
-Airplanes
-Earthquakes

Heres to hoping my buffness levels have now been restored.

Interesting.

2008-04-29T12:21:00.002-06:00

There is a tarantula in my apartment.

Now for those of you who don't know me, let me put it this way: I would freely accept being confined to the dungeons of despair with that weird albino guy and the six-fingered man, or stalked by the red-eyed James across Forks and Phoenix, or strapped to Sweeny Todd's chair, or stranded in a jaws infested ocean with a bloody nose, or be manipulated by the motiveless malignancy of Iago, or suspended for days without food or water over the boiling lava of Mordor, or come face to face with Voledemort himself...I would choose ANY of the previous scenarios (or combination thereof) to being confronted with a spider. Like snakes to Indiana Jones, like water to the Wicked Witch of the West, like happiness to Satan - I HATE SPIDERS.

So. You can imagine the sheer panic that rose when, upon moving in to my new apartment, I realized what was in the seemingly innocent cage above the fireplace. I ignored the hair standing on end, calmed the suddenly uneven breathing, swallowed the bile that threatened to make itself known, and called my brother-in-law and this situation's hero: Bryce LaPierre.

"Bryce, take it away. I can't handle it."

"Mel, it's a freaking spider. You'll live."

"I REFUSE TO SLEEP HERE UNTIL THAT EIGHT-LEGGED MENACE TO MY SANITY IS REMOVED FROM THE PREMISES!!!"

"Okay, okay, i'll take it to my place."

And at Bryce's place it stayed for a few days. Despite my protests to please just kill the cursed Thing, he kept it alive and well, waiting to see if the previous tenet to my apartment would reappear and want it back. Meanwhile, in the case that no poor shmuck stepped forward to admit ownership, Bryce went online and posted an ad for a free tarantula. Would you believe he got over 15 offers in 24 hours?!? This fact sickens me to my very core. The only thing worse than the fact that real live people were willingly offering to take the "s-word" into custody were the actual offers themselves:

"I really want it, but my husband wont let me." Well thank heaven SOMEONE is sane in your relationship.

"I had a tarantula before, and I would love this one. Is it defanged?" Defanged?!?

"I am very interested, but I have a three-year-old. Is it child-friendly?" Are you serious? Why don'y you put freshly sharpened knives on the floor for the kid to play with instead? How's THAT for child-friendly?

Though I told Bryce to tell them they were all demented and burn the hairy beast, he persisted in keeping it alive. (He even fed it. Honestly. Does humanity have to stretch that far? Bryce, you truly are a good Samaritan. Or crazy.) We made a deal - if no one stepped forward to claim it by Wednesday, we would throw, i mean give, it away.

Ladies and Gentlemen, I now testify that wonders never cease. Today while at work I got a call from a girl whose name will remain anonymous to protect her from other s-word haters.

"I need to know where my tarantula is."

Pure shock.

"Oh. Hi. Um, yeah. Right. The tarantula. It's at my brother-in-law's right now. Do you . . . want it?"

"Yeah. I just got back from vacation and came by the apartment to get my stuff, and I was upset to find that my tarantula isn't there."

Hold on. Is this person actually emotionally attached to a spider? Is that even possible??

"Well, to be honest, it freaks me out. And since you left it without any note or anything that would incline that you intended to pick it up I assumed you didn't want it."

"Well, he's mine. Of course I want him."

Do tarantulas have genders? Okay, Mel, recover. The little devil belongs to someone. Just let her take it away without demanding that she burn its remains and this whole experience will be over.

"Go ahead and take it."

The arrangements were made, the time of transaction - her pet for my sanity - was set, and a light was lit at the end of the web-strewn tunnel. Now all that was left was to come near enough to the Thing to manually give it away.

Wait - does this transaction require my presence? It's very hard to be me.

This last part of the story entails the bravest thing I have ever done in my life. I picked the Thing up from Bryce and Lisa's and drove it back to my apartment. That's right, I, Melissa Lynn Moorhead, chauffeured a tarantula.

A part of me wishes that somewhere along the 2.64 mile journey we decided to lay aside our animosity for each other and have a heart to heart. I wish I could say we discussed our differences and basic needs for survival (aka- liberation from each other), and came to some sort of mutual understanding. I truly would like to report that the experience gave me heightened perspective and greater insight into the lives of the evil and the gross. Who knows? Maybe the Thing and I could even become friends. I think I could find some inner satisfaction in learning for myself that when you face your fears you simultaneously understand and overcome them. Hey, maybe this interaction could lead to some sort of Bruce Wayne-ish super powers. Didn't he do the same thing with Bats? (Uh, I guess Peter Parker already tap tapped the spidy-thing...). But hey, it could happen.

Alas. Back to reality. It was all I could do to choke down the anxiety that I would be forced to make a sudden stop, the Thing would fly from the passenger seat and out of it's cage, suddenly grow twenty times its size, and I would be trapped in my car with a real, live, huge, LOOSE tarantula with a vengeance, and then... well, let's just say Harry and Ron were incredibly lucky to escape the Forbidden Forest in Book 2. Not to mention the fact that Frodo's battle with his arachnid didn't turn out too well.

At the end of the day I was immensely glad to turn the Thing over. How can I describe my feelings once the Thing and it's owner walked out the door... it was just one of those moments when the sun was shining, the birds were singing, the flowers were blooming, and I knew life as we know it would indeed continue.

All in all, I'm afraid my position still stands. What can I say? Spiders and I just don't mix.

And there you have it. My first blog posting is about a tarantula. Interesting.