I LUV XANTAVIOUS

So. During my 5th period class, it conveniently being art, i excused myself to the restroom. Paused to check myself out in the mirror ( an extreme habit of mine. I look and study my appearance in every reflection i see. Whether it be car doors, trophy cases, windows the oven or anything glass; a topic for another time) I proceeded to one of the scrubby stalls. (idk if scrubby is a word, but Shakespeare invented over 1,000 words so i guess one of my own isn't intolerable) while i was in there i noticed the scratchings and markings on the inside of the door. Something I always unconsciously see but rarely read or pay attention to... things like hearts and flowers were engraved by several different sharpies or pens, and hatch marks of things illegible drawn probably by someone using the metal part of a pencil. you know the part that once held an eraser at the end but has been bitten and chewed out so now its just a deformed piece of metal at the end of a writing stick with no other purpose than that of making hatchings in the inside of a stall door. There were profanities. Names. Just dumb stuff that people do. I sat in awe at how anyone might have time to sit on the toilet, whip out a pen and cuss out some girl on the back of a door. Kinda dumb i think. Its sad that people have that much anger ya know. And that much time!? But who am I to talk. I am after all sitting here analyzing reasons why people could possibly want to draw on the back of an ancient stall door but hey. If they can be frivolous so can i....... You could also see portions over the wooden ancient door that had been sloppily painted over in this cream color in order to mask the vulgarities portrayed there. One that specifically caught my eye was right in the middle and it said in bright purple letters " I LUV XANTAVIOUS" Now what kind of name Xantavious is and why someone would be in love with anyone with a name such as that I know not....but the fact that she took the time to write it meant something. I have no idea who she is, or what she believes, but I do know one thing. She LUVs Xantavious. And I guess thats all i need to know. I guess thats all she wants anybody to know. For every person who sits there and reads that, thats what she will take away from that nameless person. That somewhere somehow some girl who has a purple sharpie and curly handwriting loves Xantavious. And it got me thinking.....Im a nameless girl to alot of people in the halls at school. Im just another face. They dont care where Im going or where ive been. They just know what they see. And I wonder, what am I drawing on the back of the stall door? I mean this metaphorically of course. What am I portraying to the world? If there is ONE thing in the world I would want people to know about me, what would it be? But then.... I guess ill rephrase that, not what i want people to know about ME, but what I want people to know period. Cause again, idk who loves Xantavious, I dont even know of said Xantavious, but i do know, whoever he is. Wherever he is. Somebody loves him enough to sit there and whip out a purple sharpie and write his name on the door. And I wonder, what do I love enough to whip out my sharpie and write on the back of the door? What is the one thing I want people to know? And not just to leave it on the back of the door but to have it written on my face wherever I go, For all to see. If you care to know who it is i LUV, what means the most to me, come down to the bathroom in downstairs A and see... I fully intend to make hatchings of my own tomorrow.

- mel

itty bitty.

tonight as i drove home from dropping my friend off, i was stopped by a train. i was the only person on the road at the moment and i could have easily beaten the train, feeling dangerous(i did that last night at the same insersection and almost got crushed by the bars, but dont tell anyone), but i kind of wanted to take my time and instead just sit there for few minutes. while sitting there listening to kelly clarkson(it was conveniently on fm 100), i saw flashing ambulance lights coming up from behind me. and of course, although emergency vehicles are pretty boss on the roads, they cant go through a train. so they had to just sit there with the lights flashing. i couldnt help but wonder who may be suffering right now. who is possibly dying. and this stupid train HAD to pass THIS intersection RIGHT now. i wish i had the power to stop the train, separate it, and let the ambulance pass through. but i couldnt. so i prayed. all i could do was pray for this person out there who was suffering more and more as the moments passed. i couldnt help but think that this train, at this very moment, was keeping someone from breathing, was killing someone. maybe. even the possibility of this frightened me. it felt like such a long train. relief collected in my heart when i heard the cuboose coming. and once those bars lifted like race flags, i yelled. "GO! GO! GET EM!" i stayed there until the truck sped off into the distance feeling small and powerless, but yet feeling meant for this. i think this person needed my prayers. i like to think i touched someone. somewhere. and if i didnt, well i dont know. maybe i touched myself. learned something from this in a way. "prayer is powerful". "the power of prayer"- so commonly stated among christians, but it is completely true. i need to pray more. im tired of selfish prayers. i think that is what i have learned from this. i need to pray for everyone, not just my itty bitty self.
-shel

Friendship

I dont think Jane Austen could have said it any better..." Friendship is certainly the finest balm for the pangs of disspointed love" in her novel Emma. Its quite a profound statement actually. It relates completely to the essence of friendship. For at this age,...what do we talk about? -boys- What do we vex over? -boys- What do we get excited about? -boys- Yes. there are many other things that take up our time. But at the end of the day...Boys will remain the fave topic. They hurt us and kill us, they burry us with idiodicy and plain ignorance; they ruin relationships, and yea its generally their fault...But have we ever considered that maybe, just maybe we are the problem? Maybe we are to blame?Only in Getting past pride and conceit can this be considered...but this is a different topic for a different time.

Our friends encourage us and get excited for us. They get mad and angry with us and roll his house and poop in his yard. They offer advice to the best of their ability, wether it be rediculous or wonderful. They are always there when we need them. Unless you like her ex, then your just asking for trouble...But THAT is also a differnt topic for a different time.

Having girlfriends is Gods way of making highschool relationships humorous. I dont think it will matter tho wether or not we are in highschool....God gives us girlfriends to be the balm for dissapointment. What comes to your mind when you hear the word Balm? I immediatley think of Burts Bees. You know the cooling sensation and the minty tingling and the slight burn that happens when you apply the sweet smelling chapstick to ones dry (but not too dry) lips? Yea. Thats what friendship is like. Its sweet and minty. It makes you tingle a little bit. Yea sometimes it burns. But it always softens and heals the dryness and pain of chapped lips, and past the pains and tingly sensations of the application, it always soothes.

Friendship is burts bees. Friendship is the balm...not just to dissapointed love...but to LIFE

- mel

Recent Watches

It seems that here lately, all the movies that I watch relate to my life in one way or another.

Monday night, Melody and I decided to watch Garden State, this being her very first time to ever see it. Being the owner of this great movie, I have seen it many, many times, however, I never tire from watching it. When I watched it this time, the events/lines hit me in different ways. I had forgotten a couple of very important lines that had been prevalent in my own life(if that makes sense).

Andrew and Sam had been following Mark around all day for some special "thing". They had gone through sketchy and perverse places, to end up at some wierd junkyard. Andrew says to Mark, "ok, Just stop. We have put this innocent girl through enough today."
Sam argues, "What, I'm not a little girl. I'm not innocent!" Then Andrew getting worked up says, "Yes, yes. You are innocent! And that's what I like about you."(something along these lines)

"You're innocent and that's what I like about you." I think this is one of the best compliments I have gotten. It's somehow saying, you haven't let this world completely change you, you haven't been touched by it. And this world changes us, of course, but I have tried to slow down the process. I work hard for my innocence by avoiding a lot of nonsense, and I do not regret this decision. I have grown up and seen things that have taken away some of my innocence. This affects me quite a bit because you just can't take back your innocence; once it's gone, it's gone. Obviously you have to grow up, but does this mean your innocence has to be taken away? I've been pondering on this lately. Just wondering. I don't want it to be taken away, but maybe it's unavoidable? I am going to try my hardest to stay pure. I am going to guard my eyes, my mouth, my ears, and most of all, my heart. I know I can't avoid evil, but maybe the evil that I have a choice with or control over I could avoid. Every bit counts, in my opinion. I'm trying to think of some form of metephor for this, but I can't at the moment. It is lurking somewhere in a hidden dusty corner of my brain. Maybe it will come out later and I can share it.

Now He is Risen. And He is Lord

I have been reading and listening and observing some things, and I just want to write down some of my conclusions, tell me if I have something right, or if im way off.

This is what I have come to Find.....

We all live with regret, dont we? We think "well you know that window has passed, well you know maybe i should have done this instead of that, maybe I should of Dated that person, well maybe I shouldnt of dated at all, maybe my life should have gone this way, maybe I should have spent my time thus"... and so on, the list never ends.But you have to think, all those windows ARE past, and now you are who you are, where you are NOW. Its never too late to start doing the right thing. Thats why We are still alive, You will know when its too late to start doing the right thing, cause you will be dead.The fact that we still draw breathe means that God's opinion is that its not too late to start doing the right thing, and you start doing the next thing.

For the disciples, after the crucifiction, it was time for them to find a tomb to bury Him, and fast. You know why? Because the next day was the Sabbath, and that Sabbath was a high day; You know what that means? It means It was Passover Week, You know what that means? It means, that the Jews were celebrating, this great mercy in Egypt, when God passed over their sons, while He was slaying the Egyptian sons in judgement. So they went to Pilot and said " break His legs, we got to kill him fast because it's almost time for us to celebrate our religious holiday, you know when we thank God for not killing our sons, so lets hurry up and kill God's son, so we can thank Him for not killing our sons.!"
CAN YOU BELIEVE it! The spectre of corrupt religion, the spectre of religion gone wrong,the spectre of religion that didnt miss anything but the BOAT!..... but it all falls into place, doesnt it?

Jesus came, the Messiah came! The prophecies were fufilled AND THEY KILLED HIM! Can you imagine killing a man who could raise the dead? Forget the sin against the Man for a moment, think of the sin against the sick! Can you imagine killing a man who can give sight to the blind, the possesed, the mute ..etc. This Man could deliver all those poor suffering creatures, and they killed Him, Jesus came,and they said, "what will we do with Him?" ... and they killed Him.

Now Jesus is risen, and He is Lord.
What will you do with Him? What should I do with Him?

Strawberry Merangue

" Only one accommodation I can afford him, that were he other than what he is, he were unhandsome, & being no other but as he is...... I do not like him."

~ Much Ado About Nothing.

Nothing Productive to Say

I have nothing productive to say really. An odd sensation for me cause im rarely left speechless. Just got home from Dear John. I dont really have an opinion on that either.... yet. Ive had a very interesting week. Deep thoughts being provoked while reading blue like jazz by Donald Miller. I believe my opinion of myself and my behavior is changing rappidly, and I never really understood what the true Christian perspective should be till now. We had communion today. It felt real for the first time. Im a hypocrite I know. If you wanna truly understand my opinion on the world and how i feel about myself and my relationship with God, read Blue Like Jazz. I have never been wholly changed by a book till now. Im slowly dying to myself. Its a good thing. Only in that can I truly live for Christ. Im a cynic. and a hypocrite. Again. Blue Like Jazz says it all. I was praying and repenting today and realized i havent repented in a frreakishly long time. It has held barriers in my heart against God. Embarrasing to state i know. But its true. Im ashamed of myself while professing to be a "christian" while living the life of a hypocrite. Im not walking like Jesus at all. Im a fake. Trying to sell a product that I dont use to its full myself. But I intend to start. Thank you Mr. Miller, for writing the words that I could not surmize myself. Im wholeheartedly convicted. With thoughts of Blue Like Jazz, and another on my mind. it has made for an altogether pleasant weekend of deep thinking.

Thanks to Shelby & Gracie, my two best friends, for being my best friends. I love you both deeply. And Annalisabeth Craig, whom I am free to be the cynic that I am and not be judged.

-Mel

Self Portrait

I wish I had something profound to say about my self portrait, but I just don't. I was handed a blank sheet of paper (I grabbed a couple more in case of mess ups). I was told to draw myself. Not what I wanted to look like, but what I actually looked like, including every unwanted flaw. I brainstormed at school, but I couldn't do it there. I took home my paper and myself. I got an inconveniently tall mirror and balanced it against a rocking chair. Yes, a rocking chair. It fell over alot. Beisde me stood a small lamp. And there I sat cross-legged on the hardwood floor of my bathroom(my feet falling asleep often). I love drawing on top of smooth wood even when the annoying crack in the seam traces on my paper(there were several random lines in this that you can't see). But that's where I was when I drew this, therefore, it should have it's own place in my piece, our piece, I think. Where ever I am; if I'm in the grass, grass stains there may be. If I'm eating cheetos, orange smudges there may be. That is slightly unappetizing, but I'm not hungry right now anyway. I felt overwhelmed at first, staring at the massive white page. But once I put my earphones in and touched my ebony pencil against the paper, I forget how empty the page was. Looking back and forth from the paper and up into the mirror, I no longer became realistic. I became something else that I can't even explain. Just something to draw. Something 2-d. I pictured myself flat. And I became flat. Adding shadows and depths, I came to life on the paper. I kind of loose myself when I get into these moments. It becomes only me. I can't describe it. Time flies by when I get tangled up in such drawings. I become oh so confident during these moments and when I am finally finished, I feel a great wave of accomplishment rush over me. Then I share it with everyone because I feel very proud of it. And sometimes I struggle with that because I should not be proud of it. Maybe I should be be proud in the fact that God gave me the ability to see things a certain way to be able to put it on paper? This is something I am working on; being not proud of anything but God, only God. Struggle, struggle, struggle.

Don Millers View On Our Beloved Pride & Prejudice

" here's a tip ive never used: I understand you can learn a great deal about girldom by reading pride & prejudice, I own a copy but I have never read it. I tried, it was given to me by a girl with a little note inside that read: What is in this book is the heart of a woman. I am sure the heart of a woman is pure and lovely, but the first chapter of said heart is hopelessly boring. Nobody dies at all. I keep the book on my shelf because girls come into my room, sit on my couch, and eye the books on the adjecent shelf. You have a copy of pride & prejudice! they exclaim in a gentle sigh and smile. Yes, i say. Yes, i do." - Blue Like Jazz

Spring Break 2010

The To-do list for Shelby Melody & Gracie.

1. lay on the roof and look at stars
2. go to Graceland Too
3. go to the zoo
4. have a picknick at Shelby Farms in dresses
5. have a midnight Bible study in the drive-way with candles
6. the office & band of brothers marathon
7. go thrift store shopping
8. go outfit hunting for John Mayer
9. read a voice in the wind aloud
10. get pictures of us 3 printed
11. have at least one discussion on politics
12. GO SEE JOHN MAYER!
13. take a day trip to Shiloh

Character Building?

" Dear Diary. I feel the need to express myself. How am I feeling? Im going to barf at any given moment, not helped by my present location and (insert name here) 's revolting farts. The car itself reeks of mildew, crumbs, dirt, unwashed bodies, and greasy hair. Not an odor produced its present inhabitants, but the very fibers itself. As we wind through the road and over the hills, I feel the inducment of vomiting, a sentiment greatly aided by the nausiating country music being blared so loud my ears ring, and sleeping is impossible. As we continue, whiffs of todays chicken chilli cheese soup are being wafted up our nostrills from its container in the backseat; this might be endurable had the soup itself been tasty at lunch. But I was encapable of downing the watery stuffs that the soup was comprised of. This is a rarety hardly experienced by myself as i eat anything and everything in sight. I feel all these circumstances are inducing my urge to empty my stomach. Anyway such an experience is rarely to be experienced by myself, as I am accustomed to clean vehicles that are vaccumed regularly, soups that are cooked to perfection, sisters that are ladylike and passing gas is unheard of, and country music is a genre never audited by my family. This is what my dad calls character building, experiencing things out of ones radar. However I feel my character being slowly disentigrated with each song. My only comfort is Shelby who feels as I do. Thank God not much longer. Trying not to throw up. Im going to die. Cant wait to get home. Sorry for being dramatic Im really trying to stop, paitience is not my strength. Shit she farted again. K, im seriously gonna barf now. I need to pray i always find comfort in that. Love, Melody"
( written via text as a pen and paper was not at my disposal)
- Mel

First Impressions

" When we met, i knew nothing about you.

Your style, your expressions, it was all brand new.

You drove a tan truck bumper stickers galore

But with you I could tell there had to be more.

Wearing band shirts and scars you were quite a catch.

I never thought I was the one you would fetch.

Older and mysterious, I didnt know your story

But soon i realized i wanted to know your every corner.

While observing you secretly I was never seen.

Interesting and rare, I saw you were free.

Soon i discovered your spirit was contagious.

Just being in your presence destroyed all of my stresses."

- Shel

Unselfish Love

" In all honesty it bothers me, not out of selfishness, but for your own wells being. And it will continue to bother me until you prevail upon me some form of confirmation about the situation. in no way do i want to misunderstand you over dramatic or nonsensical events because I cherish you and OUR relationship"

- Mel

Invisible String

"She holds a string

But no one can see.

An invisible force

Which uncontiously enslaves.

Her hand holds one end

And to his heart another extends.

Like a dog on a leash

He is re-routed and teased.

Confident in his direction

She tugs with no affection.

Each yank brings emmense pain

From within his soul up to his brain.

Trapped and confused

He knows he should be free to choose.

From him she wont let go.

She feels security knowing the safety net remains below.

She cannot put another through such distress

Just to feel reassurance in her own rest.

He's not a kite.

Stop holding tight.
He should be free to soar above the clouds

To another world where his place may be found.

She needs to release him for heavens sake

Before finally forever from her he breaks."

- Shel

To Change the Human Pattern Would be Unnatural, I Suppose....

To Shel:

"It is My love. Boys tend to be so. But have faith, love will be soon revealed and we will look upon these days and grimace-half happily, half regretfully in that we did not live our youthful hours to the fullest, instead we moped about the love lives we lacked. Love that was not planned for us as children, but for future, pure, unconditional love of a husband not found in teenage infactuation. Let's be happy with our many blessings and not waste the hours we are bound to regret. However... to change the human pattern would be unnatural, I suppose..."
-Mel