FOOTBALL

The game was great! I am so glad I went. For the first twenty minutes, I couldn't pay attention to any one thing, becuase I was so overwhelmed by all the people. It was like I was trapped between sleep and waking, with my mind making strange, distant observations, and the cacophony of voices pressing upon my ears. But then I got used to it, and steadily got into the actual game. It wasn't until half-time that I actually understood what was going on, but that was fine with me. I didn't particularly care for the details of who had the ball, and who was winning: my favorite bits were the 'fifty-man pile-up' as I called it, where half the team tried to tackle one little fellow. Just hysterical! They move like disproportionate ballerinas, with the same sort of smooth, liquid grace, but instead of the artistic sense bleeding into every flick of muscle, pure human energy fueled it.
I can't wait to go to the homecoming next year.

I went with Chad and Paul, and had a BLAST. I taught Chad how to 'yawp' and it was great! He went hoarse even before half-time, so his yawp wasn't as good as mine (but who cane beat mine, anyway?) and I got lots of funny looks, interrupting the mustang chants with my barbaric war cry. Oh, how I loved it, belting my heart out into the dark night air with no restraint.

The bands were phenomenal - the Ganders (from Baytown: our arch-enemy) played a few swing songs, and I just couldn't resist - I got up and danced. This earned me several more looks and a few even called me down; why was I supporting the enemy? Our band is better!

Our band, indeed, was good - they were 3 times the size of the Ganders, and had some spectacular formations as they marched.

Ahhh.....school spirit....like an addictive fever.
"catch it at the game," they say. And I did.

I snapped away with my new beautiful hunk of software, and during half-time the battery went ka-put, which was a shame. Of course, I had played with it for almost 3 hours the day before. Oh well.

All in all, I had a wonderful time, and I am sooo pumped about the dance tonight. I hope they play actual 1940's music (that's our theme, you know) becuase its something you can actually dance to.

Carpe Diem

What a week, what a weeek! Besides the fact that I actually just forgot like half of it, sitting here in the warm glow of the lovely computer screen, I know somehow that it was fun. *nods sagely*

Yesterday (ooh! I remembered!) I went to the mall and I got all the homecoming stuff - an adorable black dress and shoes and a
DIGITAL CAMERA!!
And then I didn't finish my homework becuase I was taking pictures of EVERYTHING. It's so awesome....I love it. Tonight is the football game, so it will be used, and then tomorrow is the dance...and then sunday is "zombie day".
*dances around*
I still can't believe I own a real digital camera. I've been saving for almost 2 years now. Its the most beautiful thing...all silvery...and square-ish....

I haven't taken anything note-worthy (and I still have no clue how to hook it up to the computer) so no photographs for now, but there will be some later, I promise.

Speaking of photographs, I was looking through some old ones, and came across one of my favorites. When I become an author/graphic-artist, living alone in my swank little apartment with my kitties, I'll have this framed in my office. Seriously, I will. (along with 20 others of the same sort, of course).
That way I won't ever forget that life is too short to get caught up in work, and to go have fun every once in a while.


This, in essence, is "Carpe Diem".

I plopped down on the couch

in a state of mental agony. I wanted to burst into tears. They had given me so much hope, only to snatch it away, and stomp all over it, shattering even the fragments to prevent it from being resurected....again.
Drama aside,
I'm not allowed to drop Chemistry.

My parents are fine with it - I explained in my best philosophic manner that my workload was getting the better of me, and that by sixth period, I was literally falling asleep where I stood. By eliminating Chemistry, I would not only have my workload lessened a great deal, but I would also have a free hour to myself in the Library or as a teacher's aide to rid myself of the sleepy-plague.
And I wouldn't be dropping it entirely, either: I could pick it up again as a senior, and be able to give it my best shot.

Sounds water-tight doesn't it?

Not to my counselor, obviously. The woman didn't call or email my parents to let them know the plan. A whole mess ensued; its far too complicated and boring to write about, but long story short, I'll supposedly fail the TAKS test if I don't take a 'proper science' even though I'm already taking Psychology!

When I heard the news, I wandered aimlessly around the house, thinking thinking, and when I came to, I found that I was gulping down the chocolate my hands had found - the m&m's in a bowl by the door. I downed a couple more, and since I was already on a junk-food drive, I got out a can of pringles and a Dr. Pepper, and plopped down in front of the computer, Coldplay blaring.

Ah, well.
The perfect end to an oh-so perfect Friday.

Disciple Now

this year was pretty good. Its kind of like a camp, but you stay at people's houses (called host homes) for three days, and even spend the night there. It started just a few days after I returned from Wichita, so I barely had time to catch my breath. (And then the next day after D-now, School began. Craziness!)

The theme was "Hold". Hold the hand that holds the world.

I was a little apprehensive about having to spend 2 whole days in the constant company of, let's just say, people that are all so much like each other, and nothing like me. A few try to reach out to my lost world, for which I am greatful for. But the truth is, we're just not on the same wavelength.

There was the traditional - "Why don't you talk more?" questions; the puzzled looks at my irrepressible thirst for solitude; the indirect way of poking bitter fun down my throat; and then the "let's straighten your hair!" party.

While I did enjoy myself, and I even found some people in other grades who are geeky like yours truly, I still came away from my 'host-home' feeling 'totally un-bonded'.

I try not to be bitter about it, but sometimes I can't help it.


What was amazing though, was that I got closer to the Lord. He put so many things in perspective for me, and laid it on my heart to be a missionary for Europe (specifically England and France). People don't usually go on mission there, because of the country's vast history of church, but the cold truth is that their population is dwindling, and many of them are turning to Islam for help. This breaks my heart. I love the lore and the language and the art and the music and the people and and and....
I love it all, and I so want to do everything within my power to help them to see the light of Christ!

Late at night, God and I giggle over plans. We have so much fun...its just awesome.


Here's a picture. See if you can spot me....(with my straight-hair and make-up...tee-heee!)



(and I DO have a matching shirt on- I'm not that much of an anarchist - but it was cold in the sanctuary)

September 19th

The basics

Ahoy! - "Hello!"

Avast! - Stop and give attention. It can be used in a sense of surprise, "Whoa! Get a load of that!" which today makes it more of a "Check it out" or "No way!" or "Get off!"

Aye! - "Why yes, I agree most heartily with everything you just said or did."

Aye aye! - "I'll get right on that sir, as soon as my break is over."

Arrr! - This one is often confused with arrrgh, which is of course the sound you make when you sit on a belaying pin. "Arrr!" can mean, variously, "yes," "I agree," "I'm happy," "I'm enjoying this beer," "My team is going to win it all," "I saw that television show, it sucked!" and "That was a clever remark you or I just made." And those are just a few of the myriad possibilities of Arrr!


Advanced pirate lingo; or On beyond “Aarrr!”
Once you've mastered the basics, you're ready to start expanding your pirate vocabulary. Try these for starters:

Beauty – The best possible pirate address for a woman. Always preceded by “me,” as in, “C’mere, me beauty,” or even, “me buxom beauty,” to one particularly well endowed. You’ll be surprised how effective this is.

Bilge rat – The bilge is the lowest level of the ship. It’s loaded with ballast and slimy, reeking water. A bilge rat, then, is a rat that lives in the worst place on the ship.
On TLAP Day – A lot of guy humor involves insulting your buddies to prove your friendship. It’s important that everyone understand you are smarter, more powerful and much luckier with the wenches than they are. Since bilge rat is a pretty dirty thing to call someone, by all means use it on your friends.

Bung hole – Victuals on a ship were stored in wooden casks. The stopper in the barrel is called the bung, and the hole is called the bung hole. That’s all. It sounds a lot worse, doesn’t it?
On TLAP Day – When dinner is served you’ll make quite an impression when you say, “Well, me hearties, let’s see what crawled out of the bung hole.” That statement will be instantly followed by the sound of people putting down their utensils and pushing themselves away from the table. Great! More for you!

Grog – An alcoholic drink, usually rum diluted with water, but in this context you could use it to refer to any alcoholic beverage other than beer, and we aren’t prepared to be picky about that, either. Call your beer grog if you want. We won’t stop you! Water aboard ship was stored for long periods in slimy wooden barrels, so you can see why rum was added to each sailor’s water ration – to kill the rancid taste.
On TLAP Day – Drink up, me hearties! And call whatever you’re drinking grog if you want to. If some prissy pedant purses his lips and protests the word grog can only be used if drinking rum and water, not the Singapore Sling you’re holding, keelhaul him!

Hornpipe – Both a single-reeded musical instrument sailors often had aboard ship, and a spirited dance that sailors do. We're no professors on the subject, by any means...

Lubber – (or land lubber) This is the seaman’s version of land lover, mangled by typical pirate disregard for elocution. A lubber is someone who does not go to sea, who stays on the land.
On TLAP Day – More likely than not, you are a lubber 364 days of the year. But not if you’re talking like a pirate! Then the word lubber becomes one of the more fierce weapons in your arsenal of piratical lingo. In a room where everyone is talking like pirates, lubber is ALWAYS an insult.

Smartly – Do something quickly.
On TLAP Day – “Smartly, me lass,” you might say when sending the bar maid off for another round. She will be so impressed she might well spit in your beer.


Want more Piratie-ness?
http://www.talklikeapirate.com/piratehome.html

Life Explained

"On the first day, God created the dog and said:
"Sit all day by the door of your house and bark at anyone who comes in or walks past. For this, I will give you a life span of twenty years."
The dog said: "That's a long time to be barking. How about only ten years, And I'll give you back the other ten?"
So God agreed.
On the second day, God created the monkey and said: "Entertain people, do tricks, and make them laugh. For this, I'll give you a twenty-year life span."
The monkey said: "Monkey tricks for twenty years? That's a pretty long time to perform. How about I give you back ten like the Dog did?"
And God agreed.
On the third day, God created the cow and said: "You must go into the field with the farmer all day long and suffer under the sun, have calves and give milk to support the farmer's family. For this, I will give you a life span of sixty years."
The cow said: "That's kind of a tough lifeYou want me to live for sixty years. How about twenty and I'll give back the other forty?"
And God agreed again.
On the fourth day, God created man and said:"Eat, sleep, play, marry and enjoy your life.For this, I'll give you twenty years."
But man said: "Only twenty years?Could you possibly give me my twenty, the forty the cow gave back, the ten the monkey gave back, and the ten the dog gave back; That makes eighty, okay?"
"Okay," said God, "You asked for it."

So that is why the first twenty years we eat, sleep, play and enjoy ourselves.For the next forty years we slave in the sun to support our family.For the next ten years we do monkey tricks to entertain the grandchildren.And for the last ten years we sit on the front porch and bark at everyone.

Life has now been explained to you... "

"Spitting Games" - Snow Patrol

I broke into your house last night
And left a note at your bedside
I'm far too shy to speak to you at school
You leave me numb and I'm not sure why

I find it easier to sit and stare
Than push my limbs out towards you right there
My heart is bursting in your perfect eyes
As blue as oceans and as pure as skies

I struggle for the words and then give up

My heads up with the birds on the t-hut

A little piece of mind that I know better

Than the plain disgrace of all my letters

But after that the floodgates opened up
And I fell in love with everyone I saw
Please take your time I'm not in any rush
And it's in everything I ever write

It's not as if I need the extra weight
Confused enough by life so thanks a lot
Lonely written words for company
Just raise the roof this once and follow me

I struggle for the words and then give up
My heads up with the birds on the t-hut
A little piece of mind that I know better
Than the plain disgrace of all my letters

Friday the fifteenth

has been...okay. I had a Pep rally today, which was exciting. I haven't had one since my freshman year.
School Spirit is so much fun!

I have decided to go to the Homecoming game and Dance after all. What the heck - I've never been to a football game in my life, and I might as well go to a dance. But this time, I'm going with a big group of friends so that way No One gets left feeling left out or anything. And then afterward, we should go to Denny's and have breakfast, at 2 AM!
Yup.

Tonight is a girl's lock-in (I wish we did guys and girls, like in CABC - I don't have a lot of female friends. Pooh.) I have pranks and hysteria planned. My mum is attending as a chaperon though, so I must behave myself - to a point.
(It takes all the fun out of a youth retreat if yer mum's there, doesn't it? She did this to me at camp too.)

Topic change:
I got to look at college stuff the other day. Come to find out WSU has classes and majors and happiness in creative writing, graphic design, art, and music.

(I wanna go off to WSU so badly [and major in graphic design], its nearly killing me! I may sound like the average whiny teen, but I WANT independance!)

*clears throat*
Topic change again:
So I'm looking forward to my weekend. Despite the planned lack of sleep I'll be getting, everything seems Hunky-Dory.

I don't know why I'm so happy-go-lucky lately; I have NO reason what-so-ever to be. Must be those darn Hormones again. And God smiling on me.

Well, I'm glad to know I'm doing something right...

Flour - cont'd

My children were named after the twins in the Shakespearian play, Twelth Night: Sebastian and Viola (perhaps better known as her male name, Cesario). Above is Sebastian exploring the great outdoors, and making friends with dear old Gaffer, my gnome.

I never though a sack of flour was ever particularly cute, but Sebastian sure was...

Flour in Psychology

I had a project all last week - maybe I told you about it. It's where we had to take care of a "baby". (In my case, "babies". Plural.) For seven days, one had to carry around with them everywhere they went (and I do mean everywhere) a 10 lb sack of flour.
Now, I was a special case - becuase every store within my town's vicinity was sold out of 10 lb. flour, I magically had two 5lb. twins.

I found them quite the nuisance at first; these heavy, mute, so-called children that I had to balance on my hip with my stack of books I also carry. There were several occasions where, when I finally reached my desk in my class and set everything down, my hands were shaking too badly for me to write my own name correctly.

But then, as their bland paper-covering called for attention and a personality, we began to get quite attached....

Before I go typing for hours, I shall post a picture of a 'fun family outing'. I have homework to be working on. More is coming, this I swear.

Last night's paper

was a struggle.
And a religious experience.

I wrote an entire analytical essay in close to 3 hours. That, ladies and gents, is a new record. No, no, hold the applause. It was nothing.
*grins wearily*
Actually, its by the grace of God alone that I'm in GT (it was a mistake on my transcript, and its been the best mistake ever made in my life!) and that I had the consciousness to write my paper at 11:30.

While working on it, Paul called, and we talked (I supposedly have a surprise for me Saturday Night. I can't wait) and then Rachel telephoned hardly 15 minutes later and we talked for a while - just hearing her happy lifted my spirits a great deal.

I am weighed down with stress and homework, but it feels barely velcroed. I have this peace in my mind and while I sense that my body is exhausted from the small sleeping hours I've been keeping, I don't really feel it. My mind is clear. And its lovely.

Well, long story short, I finished my paper, turned it in online around midnight, got 5 hours of sleep and off I went again.
It has been a day.

English was great, though. My teacher (who will remain unnamed) (and, well...no, he's a whole 'nother post's subject matter *grins sheepishly*) was all grins and giggles. He had way too much fun at Open House last night. I read his post on his website, and he sarcastically claimed he was going to wear a Tux. How funny.

Today, he delcared he was pregnant.

I nearly passed out from laughing.

Then my beloved class somehow got onto the topic of Benjamen Franklin (we're reading his autobiography sort of thing). And oh man, one joke after another!
Apparently Franklin was a "ladies man"and had something like 80 illegitamate children. (Probably rumors, but still...yech.) Then, this is how he died:
he liked being naked, so he used to walk around his house like that, sometimes with the windows open and he caught pnemonia and died.
Then a kid across the room goes - "That's how you catch pnemonia?!" with a look on his face of mock-guilt.
The constant stream of giggles burst into gales of laughter.

man.
I have SO found my niche in the high school world. And its euphoria.

This is my third post

I'm sensing a trend here...
*grins*

I'll stop. I promise.

I had to add something:
the title of my Blog, Melomane is french for music-lover. I thought that was far too spiffy to pass up, so here it is.

Now back to the show.

This is my second post.

So its 4 o'clock and I have an essay due tomorrow that's hardly even started...and I can't even really begin it because I've been sentanced to the laptop (which is now battling for space on my tiny desk - I have too many little wizard and pirate plastic figures, not to mention my dried herbs and flowers, scrolled wooden boxes, movie ticket stubs, and random inky pens). Ah, much better. A french magazine is on the floor now, along with the boxes and pens.

Well, it's been an interesting day. Not only is it monday ("Sunday's Hangover" as I heard described today - too funny) but it's also Septemer. And the eleventh.

It took me some time to pinpoint the cause of my, lets just say, past issues, and you know what? It all links back to that fateful day of terrorism. No joke. The airline industry took a major dive. Now who did that affect? Hundred upon hundreds of Boeing, learjet, and Cessna workers.
Meaning my family.

And then the stress of moving (caused by this) played a huge role in my afore-mentioned *cough cough EMO cough* issues.
So anyway....


I really don't know why I have a blog. I mean, they're pretty darn pointless.
*mimiking voice* "Oooh, look at me - I can write about life! You must read me!"
yeah, sure.

I have resolved, though (and you may be proud) to post more of my favorite quotes and bible verses and things like that. A blog should be an encouragement to others who stumble across it, not just a place where an intellectual being upon the planet earth vents about a rotten day.
That's sickening.
And while I do realize I'm quite guilty of doing such, I don't want to do it anymore.

I also promise more pictures. Finch's nest is primary my (lazy) artwork, but this is for the pics I take, at, say a party. Or to illustrate some point I'm making.

Yup.

I can't promise that I won't vent (I'm a teenage girl for heaven's sake: its what I' programmed to do!) but I'm just going to cut down. There are many many many ways of taking out my frustration then typing my life away.

just wanted to clear that up.


Now this is the end of my second post.

This is my first post.

Whoop-de-doo.

I do apologize for the curtness, but I'm utterly swamped with homework. Perhaps later this evening I'll write more.

TTFN,
Melle