tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28847380020841177462024-03-12T19:54:36.708-05:00into my head and around the cornermelodyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10262897966449521733noreply@blogger.comBlogger123125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2884738002084117746.post-25836893815457606012013-02-16T14:21:00.002-06:002013-02-16T14:26:11.896-06:00Doggie Details- Top Ten<span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px; line-height: 22px;">This past week I had the opportunity to dog sit for a couple little pups in St. Paul. Part of the arrangement was that I got to stay in their home- eat their food, drink their beverages as payment. </span><br />
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Here are a few reflections from my time:</div>
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10. Dogs and kids are similar but both have a major drawback. The positive for kids is- they can communicate with you better what they want. The positive for dogs is- they can be left at home for 8-9 hours so you can move about freely unhindered.</div>
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9. Dogs who are poorly potty trained are quite unpleasant to come home to because you will be hyper-vigilant to locate the warm pile of poo steaming in some hidden corner. The trick being that you must wait for it to cool before collecting and disposing of it.</div>
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8. We are living in wonderful technologically advanced times. The pinnacle of all inventions being, of course, the sleep number bed. I'm a 30-35, by the way.</div>
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7. House sitting is like trying on someone else's life for a while. Why yes, I will eat organically and have microwave meals that you can also heat in the oven that come in compostable containers. It allows you to try out new routines because you're in a new place- like drinking my morning java by a gas burning fireplace, instead of chugging it out of a travel mug on my commute.</div>
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6. Enjoyed their outdoor hot tub with my landlady and I got to think things like, "Is 103 degrees hot enough? That's the highest it goes."</div>
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5. I'm not really a bath-taking person. Probably due to the fact that I've been living in rental units for the past 10 years, and it's just creepy. However, something about Kohler appliances sparkling and shining; and though I was in a near strangers home- I took a bath in their 6 foot long tub...twice.<br />
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4. Lint rollers are the best friend to clean obsessed people. I used 4 sheets just about everyday on my clothes... Including my pajama pants- so I didn't get dog hair in the bed.</div>
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3. You never get use to picking up dog doo-doo around the house. Though I did start to ignore it in some places because I knew the second I picked it up, one of them would re-mark their spot. My plan back fired, however, when they just found new places to mark. My theory is that they had to hesitate a little more before finally popping a squat because they had to find a new spot.</div>
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2. I have never been so thankful for wood floors. (Referring, of course, to Top Ten #3)</div>
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1. At the first circling and slight squatting of a dog, the visual picture of me shooting up out of bed from a dead sleep- or up from the couch to grab the pint size dog and rush him/her with my arms outstretched about 1 foot away from my body outside to do their business. The words being uttered under my breath expressing my annoyance with the little pooping machine. </div>
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There you have it.</div>
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That is my tale,</div>
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melody</div>
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melodyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10262897966449521733noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2884738002084117746.post-78613017601559739182012-06-07T22:46:00.001-05:002012-06-07T22:53:53.851-05:00Johnny Cash kick<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: red; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<span class="line line-s" id="line_1"><span style="display: block; font: inherit; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 5px; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: red; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Drink to me only with thine eyes</span></span></span><span style="display: block; font: inherit; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 5px; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: red; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">And I will pledge with mine.</span></span></span><span style="display: block; font: inherit; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 5px; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: red; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Or leave a kiss within the cup</span></span></span><span style="display: block; font: inherit; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 5px; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: red; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">And I'll not ask for wine.</span></span></span><span style="display: block; font: inherit; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 5px; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: red; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">The thirst that from the soul doth rise</span></span></span><span style="display: block; font: inherit; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 5px; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: red; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Doth ask a drink divine;</span></span></span><span style="display: block; font: inherit; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 5px; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: red; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">But might I of Jove's nectar sip,</span></span></span><span style="display: block; font: inherit; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 5px; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: red; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I would not change for thine.</span></span></span><span style="display: block; font: inherit; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 5px; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: red; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I sent thee late a rosy wreath,</span></span></span><span style="display: block; font: inherit; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 5px; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: red; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Not so much hon'ring thee</span></span></span><span style="display: block; font: inherit; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 5px; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: red; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">As giving it a hope that thereIt could not withered be;</span></span></span><span style="display: block; font: inherit; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 5px; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: red; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">But thou thereon did'st only breathe,</span></span></span><span style="display: block; font: inherit; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 5px; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: red; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">And sent'st it back to me,</span></span></span><span style="display: block; font: inherit; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 5px; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: red; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Since when it grows and smells, I swear</span></span></span><span style="display: block; font: inherit; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 5px; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: red; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Not of itself, but thee.</span></span></span><span style="display: block; font: inherit; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 5px; text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">- Drink to Me Only With Thine Eyes by Johnny Cash</span></b></span><span style="display: block; font: inherit; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 5px; text-align: left;">_________________________________________________________________</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #f1c232; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">(Troubadour troubadour troubadour)</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #f1c232; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">The troubadour the troubadour sings from his heart</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #f1c232; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">The song that's the hit of the show</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #f1c232; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Watch him sing and play the strings of his guitar alone in the bright spotlight's glow</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #f1c232; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">The song was for someone he loved so true</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #f1c232; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Who loved him then left him for someone new</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #f1c232; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">The troubaour the troubadour smile as he sings but his heart is breaking in two</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #f1c232; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">[ guitar ]</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #f1c232; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">They beg for more the troubadour sings once again</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #f1c232; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">The song that's the hit of the show</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #f1c232; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Watch him sing and play the strings of his guitar alone in the bright spotlight's glow</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #f1c232; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">There is a hush in the darkened hall a few hearts are heavy and teardrops fall</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #f1c232; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">But in the crowd one head is bowed for the troubadour</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #f1c232; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">And oh her heart aches most of all</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #f1c232; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Troubadour troubadour her heart aches most of all. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #f1c232; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">- The Troubadour by Johnny Cash</span></div>melodyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10262897966449521733noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2884738002084117746.post-69113257351110173292012-04-29T18:38:00.000-05:002012-04-29T18:38:14.921-05:00Allowed to be simply "okay"Let's reflect for a moment on the concept of genuineness.<br />
I'll paint the picture-<br />
A friend that you happen to work with requests that any response to the question "How are you?" (which is a DUMB question anyway) that varies from good or great be met with a story about what's going on in your life personally.<br />
1. I am trying to maintain a level of professionalism in the workplace. My personal tales, whether yay or nay, are not appropriate to expand upon on the company dime.<br />
2. As my friend, why am I not allowed to say, "I'm just okay today."? You should not try to change my current emotion. As a friend, you should accept me for who I am. Please don't ask me to be fake. I have to be fake with all the other workplace acquaintances.<br />
3. What is really comes down to is that YOU feel uncomfortable by my less-than-par emotion. So really it's a selfish request.<br />
4. What if my emotional state is extremely fragile? By forcing me to open up, you have just instigated a waterfall of tears, sniffling, flushed skin which may or may not be able to be turned off- messing up my makeup, my focus, and my professional demeanor. Thank you for trying to make yourself feel better which has now led to completely outing my personal business to everyone in my workplace.<br />
<br />
As my friend, please don't pry into how I'm really doing in my workplace. Save it for a rainy movie night, evening beverage escapade, or tearful phone conversation- outside of work. Some days I am just faking it to make it.melodyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10262897966449521733noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2884738002084117746.post-33807159198593932862011-04-02T04:06:00.006-05:002011-04-02T04:21:09.909-05:00nights with alice cooper<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#3366FF;">Tossing and turning. Eyes closed. Thoughts spinning. I quietly find myself talking to my self inside my head. "Wish it was tomorrow already, so I didn't have to keep trying to sleep." "I hate that I don't sleep like a babe anymore- dumb adulthood." I look at the clock- "Well helloooo 3AM, remember me? We spent last night together as well. I hope we don't make a habit of these nocturnal rendezvous'. I could do without you... no offense." </span></i></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#3366FF;">I'm dog sitting. Staying in a strange house, in a strange bed. Both are actually quite comfy, but somehow sleep has eluded me. The pup slumbers soundly next to me. He actually snores like an old man. He turns and sighs deeply. The kind of deep sighs my mom always does and the kind of sighs that I have picked up on and do unconsciously as well. I think to myself, "What could possibly cause that dog to sigh so deeply? No job, no drama. His life is eating, playing, sleeping. No swirling thoughts." For a moment, I envy him. And then I remember he gnaws on rawhide and drools. Nope, not the life for me. I suppose it's better to be human. </span></i></span></div>melodyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10262897966449521733noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2884738002084117746.post-90201168025949692682011-03-05T23:33:00.004-06:002011-03-06T00:00:37.603-06:00Rainboots and the Ameba<span style="font-size:180%;">Guess. Go ahead. Guess what I was doing <strong>10 minutes ago</strong>. It's so nuts, you'll never believe it, but the thought of it might make you <span style="color:#ff9900;">pee</span> a little bit. But first, the background info:</span><br /><br />One of my roomies accidentally spilled a reddish colored spice on the cream colored carpet a few months ago. After an unsuccessful go at cleaning it, we called it a day and threw a rug over it. <em>Turns out</em>, <span style="color:#006600;">mister landlord man</span> wants to sell the house when our lease is up in 2 short months. So, in order to save us the misery of all the deep cleaning at the end, I have started working on areas of the house that I could care less about cleaning as a normal person- but may actually matter when it comes to getting my dolla' bills back from the <em><span style="color:#006600;">security deposit</span></em>. In the spirit of all this, I swept and scrubbed the basement stairs and walls. Tonight, I decided to peel back that rug and try my hand at the ameba-like stain taunting me from underfoot.<br /><div align="center">I did all the steps my mother told me to do- </div><div align="center">1. Go to Target</div><div align="center">2. Buy some Woolite carpet/stain cleaner</div><div align="center">3. <em><strong>Read the directions</strong></em></div><div align="center">4. Apply plenty of "homegrown" elbow grease</div>Well, since it <strong>IS</strong> a deep set stain, I applied a couple generous spritz's of the cleaner and "gentle" wiped with a damp cloth. The stainage seemed to be lightening, but only because the generous amounts of cleaner were sudsing into a <span style="font-family:courier new;">foamy white</span>. As an excuse to wear my brand new rainboots (with a liiiittle red bird!!!), after the rinsing swipes with <span style="color:#000099;">cold water</span>, I decided I should try sopping up as much of the cleaner and water by stepping on a dry towel on top of the stainage. After doing some jumping <span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff6600;">(probably similar to a <span style="font-family:courier new;">Native American</span> rain dance in a confined space</span>), I decided I could probably be slightly more successful if I was <strong>heavier</strong>.<br /><div align="center">:)</div>This is when I paused in my jumping, and looked at one of my roommates- we exchanged knowing glances, and then started laughing as we assumed the position for a <span style="color:#006600;">piggyback ride</span>. Here we are, a couple of 26 & 27 year old women, leeched on to one another as I stomp the crap out of the stain in the carpet in my very juvenile (yet awesome) <span style="font-family:courier new;color:#ff0000;">rainboots</span>.melodyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10262897966449521733noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2884738002084117746.post-86678286257696419132011-02-13T01:41:00.003-06:002011-02-13T01:56:59.959-06:00my life be like Ooo Ahh<div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Blogging by candlelight.</span> </div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:courier new;">I was suddenly in the right mindset...after all this time.</span></div><div align="center">Today I had a free day. It was fantastic!</div><div align="center">Slept in</div><div align="center">Sold a book at Half Price Books</div><div align="center">Shopped at Party City for Valentine's cheer</div><div align="center">Visited with Erin and Brian</div><div align="center">Stopped at Target</div><div align="center">Made dinner</div><div align="center">Watched a movie</div><div align="center">Finished my taxes</div><div align="center">Emailed</div><div align="center">Deleted 2 years worth of pictures off my digital camera</div><div align="center">Got ready to pack for my annual vacation- (Naples, Florida this year)</div><div align="center">Cleaned my room</div><div align="center">Put together fun valentines for my roomies- including chocolate dipped strawberries I did myself <em><span style="font-size:78%;">*woot woot*</span></em> & the seasonal tradition of buying them each <span style="font-family:courier new;">colorful & wild</span> underwear.</div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:180%;color:#000099;">My life is fantastic! </span></div><div align="center">God has surrounded me with many people to love and to cherish. </div><div align="center">I am so thankful for this life I've been given.</div><div align="center">And I pray that God grows me and uses me for His purposes, whatever they may be and wherever that takes me. </div>melodyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10262897966449521733noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2884738002084117746.post-19209716954152829282010-01-19T18:34:00.004-06:002010-01-19T18:43:40.126-06:00i almost gave up<meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"><meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 10"><meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 10"><link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CMelody%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"><o:smarttagtype namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="State"></o:smarttagtype><o:smarttagtype namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="City"></o:smarttagtype><o:smarttagtype namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="place"></o:smarttagtype><o:smarttagtype namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="time"></o:smarttagtype><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> </w:Compatibility> <w:browserlevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if !mso]><object classid="clsid:38481807-CA0E-42D2-BF39-B33AF135CC4D" id="ieooui"></object> <style> st1\:*{behavior:url(#ieooui) } </style> <![endif]--><style> <!-- /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:Wingdings; panose-1:5 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0; mso-font-charset:2; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:0 268435456 0 0 -2147483648 0;} /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman";} </style> <![endif]--> <p style="text-align: center; font-weight: bold;" class="MsoNormal">---fresh start---
<br /></p><div style="text-align: center; font-weight: bold;"> </div><p style="text-align: center; font-weight: bold;" class="MsoNormal">*deep sigh*</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Today I stumbled upon one of my dad’s new cds (unopened of course- it seems he gets the excitement from doing the actual purchasing, but not the listening- which works out well for me). It is from this unlikely source, a well-known Christian musician, that brought much encouragement to my spirit today. His cd is filled with psalms of deep mourning and hurt yet through his pain he shares his hope in a faithful God. That’s exactly what I needed to be reminded of today. </p> <p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal">Over the past few months, I reached a point where I was just about to give up on God. </p><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal">What was the point?</p><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal">Was it really worth it?</p><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal">Why do I feel like a one girl revolution?</p><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal">Screw it all.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">My prayers (when I got around to it) kinda sounded like this: </p> <p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal">“Dear God, I feel hopeless and confused. Help. Love, Melody”</p><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal">or.. </p><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal">“Dear God, I know I’m suppose to believe in you no matter what circumstances I’m in, but I’m not sure about all this anymore. Please help, if you have time. Love, Melody”</p><p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal">*
<br /></p><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Have you ever reached that point in your Christian life</span>? When you’re just so exhausted in every way that you feel like giving up? But then you realize that to abandon the Walk you’ve put your whole heart and life into would take even MORE energy that you don’t have? And so <span style="font-weight: bold;">you get stuck</span>. And you break down and cry a lot. Because you know it’s soaked into the deepest marrow of your being. But you just can’t do it anymore. You’re not really moving forward, but you can’t move back. It’s mind bogglingly frustrating!</p><p class="MsoNormal">*
<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Church feels pointless. Because the whole time you’re sitting in the cushy chair/rock hard pew and you feel nothing. You hear nothing. You start to sit back and observe all the people going through their motions from an out-of-body perspective. The people, the place, the whole thing looks crazy strange if you do that. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">People who call themselves Christians are just people with faith who live with one foot in the world. Day to day life for them is like being a human yoyo. Are they really happy? Do I really wanna be that too? Do I want to play both worlds? And if I’m honest, I don’t- but I feel stuck- so I <span style="font-weight: bold;">just break down and cry</span>. Because I know I need to move forward, but I’m not strong enough to pick myself up and do it. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">It feels like a dreamlike state. I’m just floating along… turning off the alarm at <st1:time minute="50" hour="4">4:50AM</st1:time> and beginning another day. Might as well, can’t sleep anyway. All I wanna do is curl up and sleep because that’ll stop the spiral of thoughts…but I can’t even sleep every day. Deep sleep only happens every other day. And so I look forward to those days.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">My phone would ring sometimes. Do I have motivation to answer the phone call right now? Sometimes I did; sometimes I didn’t. Do I wanna talk to someone? Yes- But No at the same time. It only made me sound like a directionless, confused person which I was keenly aware of already. Why drum all the thoughts and confusion up with another friend? <span style="font-style: italic;">I didn’t have any answers to my questions.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Life was too hard and I just couldn’t fight for it anymore. Even in the midst of it, I knew it was Satan trying to drag me down. I’d try to tell myself, “Well Melody, if things are so difficult right now and you really feel like Satan’s working overtime in the discouragement department- maybe you’re doing something right? Satan doesn’t waste his time on complacent Christians.” Even though <span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">I’d want to give up</span>, God kept sending me internal reminders like these & Scripture verses.
<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">*
<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-weight: bold;">A turning point</span>. I finally commissioned a lot of people to start praying, and slowly things got better. And by “better” I mean the wind of hope got caught in my sails again. Still don’t have many answers. Took a little visit to <st1:city><st1:place>Minneapolis</st1:place></st1:city> to see my friends, and I was reminded that people who care about God DO exist. Katie’s words came back to me, “Mel, no fleeting worldly pleasure is worth losing the presence of God in your life.” </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Another friend shared some thoughts from her morning sermon, “Be the kind of Christian that is living your life so brilliantly for Christ that you stand out and SHINE. That way, when Christ returns He doesn’t have to squint through the grime of the world to find you because you’re shining so brightly He recognizes you immediately. He can reach down and pick you up and out.” Even though it’s difficult and you may feel alone at some or many points during the Walk. (Thanks, Cyndy <span style="font-family:Wingdings;"><span style="">:</span></span>-) I need to be a Christian like the 12 Disciples who were a part of the Society of the Unashamed.</p><p class="MsoNormal">Also- Psalm 25 & 26 & 27... a good read.
<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">*
<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-weight: bold;">And then the numbness melted away, and I cried again</span>. Because I knew deep in my soul that was the kind of woman I wanted to be. I <span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">had to be</span> that woman. That’s why God put me here.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">*
<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">So I went back home to <st1:state><st1:place>Wisconsin</st1:place></st1:state> and was surprised by a note in the mail from a dear friend. The note was started in November and finally mailed to me in January. It was filled with God’s wise truths to me. His words. Key words like: WISDOM, TEMPTATION, PERSEVERANCE with a whole lotta Scripture. <span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">And I’m so thankful it was mailed in January, after my numbness melted away.</p><p class="MsoNormal">*
<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">And thank you Steven Curtis Chapman for writing these lyrics from your heart:</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="">I am broken, I am bleeding/ I’m scared and I’m confused/ But You are faithful, yet, You are faithful/ I am weary in believing/ God please help my unbelief/ ‘Cause You are faithful, yes, You are faithful/ I will proclaim it to the world/ I will declare it to my heart/ I’ll sing it when the sun is shining/ I will scream it in the dark/ <b style="">You are faithful, You are faithful/ When You give and when You take away/ Even then still Your name is faithful/ You are faithful/ And with everything inside of me/ I am choosing to believe/ You are faithful/ </b>I am waiting for the rescue/ That I know is sure to come/ ‘Cause You are faithful, yes, You are faithful/ And I’ve dropped anchor in Your promises and I am holding on/ ‘Cause You are faithful, God, You are faithful/ I will proclaim it to the world/ I will declare it to my heart/ I will sing it when the sun is shining/ I will scream it in the dark/ When I cannot have the answer/ That I’m wanting to demand/ I’ll remember you are God/ And everything is in Your hands/ With your hands You put the sun and moon and stars up in the sky/ For the sake of love You hung Your own Son on the cross to die/ And You are faithful/ Yes, You are faithful/ When you give, when you take away even then/ Great is Your faithfulness/ Great is Your faithfulness/ And with everything inside of me/ I am choosing to believe/ You’re faithful <o:p></o:p></i></p> melodyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10262897966449521733noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2884738002084117746.post-33881088769474445592009-11-20T14:04:00.004-06:002009-11-20T14:25:45.972-06:00presence of God<div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(51, 51, 153); font-weight: bold; font-family: times new roman;"><span style="font-size:130%;">Sermon Notes from The Salvage Yard on July 28, 2009<br /><br />These fell out of my much-neglected devotional book today and reminded me of some heavenly insights...<br />Passage: Genesis 40<br />Character: Joseph's life after arriving in Egypt<br />Subject: The Presence of God<br />The story: The dream life of the cupbearer and the baker<br /><br />Some thoughts:<br />- The presence of God on Joseph led to everything he touched being blessed.<br />- But- the presence of God in my life also means trials, temptation, and suffering.<br />- God allowed Joseph to interpret both dreams of the cupbearer and the baker. They were similar.<br />- The culture was spiritually aware, so dreams were used to communicate a message.<br />- GOD speaks to us in a way that shows we need each other.<br />- Joseph was doing everything right from the time he stepped in Egypt BUT everything was going wrong.<br />- Is the presence of God in my life worth it? Worth the uphill struggle? Because even people with incredible willpower will give up. BUT if I cultivate the presence of God in my life, I can keep going.<br />- Intimacy with God makes doing life worth it.<br /><br />These thoughts were perfectly timed reminders that even when I am tempted to run off and sin, this would be forsaking the presence of God in my life. A friend named Katie reminded me a while ago that the fleeting pleasure of the world is not worth breaking my fellowship with God. My sinful actions would only bring pleasure for a moment, but sacrificing intimacy with God is never a risk worth taking.</span><br /></div><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153); font-weight: bold; font-family: times new roman;"> </span>melodyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10262897966449521733noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2884738002084117746.post-33533012706314889252009-10-28T23:15:00.005-05:002009-10-28T23:47:06.412-05:00put a little boogie in it<div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >I took a brisk walk today along the beautiful bluff trail at Lions Den Gorge Nature Preserve. A gorgeous slice of nature overlooking Lake Michigan just 1 mile down the road from my parent's casa. It was a dreary, gray day with a comfortable Fall air temperature, and it wasn't raining (or snowing for that matter). I walked and prayed and admired the smell of decaying leaves. I stopped to watch the small, subtle movements in the pond water to see if I could catch a glimpse of any frog eyes surfacing in the slightest to check out the human in his territory. I passed many pet owners on their usual animal walking route...some of them shuffling a long out of a sense of drudgery. I ended up sitting on a piece of smoothed-over driftwood on the edge of the Lake- just listening to the waves for a bit. It was therapeutically peaceful. It was at this point that I realized my tissue fell out of my pocket somewhere along the bluff path. I sighed and dabbed at my leaky nose with my hand. I entertained a random thought (I like to call this "sermon aftertaste") considering the meaning of worship and how it works with the word "worthship" before heading back up the bluff.<br />I spent the remainder of the walk grabbing invisible spider webs off my face and thinking to myself, "I was just here like 15 minutes ago. How could the spiders have reloaded and jumped back n forth between these trees THIS MANY TIMES?!" I was nearing the end of my hike when I suddenly had a large sneeze...probably that crazy spider web stuff triggered the ol' sneeze. Just then, I looked down and to my delight & surprise I had happened upon my half-used tissue nestled in the wood chip bed.<br />This was providence.<br />And a good start to the day.<br />I reached down and used it, then promptly found the trash.</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >.......................................................................................Th</span><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">e End</span><br /></div>melodyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10262897966449521733noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2884738002084117746.post-60819448210511046012009-10-22T23:37:00.002-05:002009-10-23T00:25:30.316-05:00new kid on the block<span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="font-family: arial;font-size:85%;" >i write as the accordion & trumpet dronings of DeVotchKa play on in the background. I appreciate inspiring tunes.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: lucida grande;">The overly friendly cooks at my new job (the BC) keep asking me if I'm from Chicago. </span><br /><span style="font-family: lucida grande;">(Apparently, it is not unusual for employees to travel between Milwaukee and Chicago accounts. I find this ludicrous as the constant traffic in combination with my road rage would eventually get me committed.) Secretly, I find it quite flattering that I don't seem like a Milwaukee-ite to the outside world. I think I'm urban Minnesotan at my core. That's when I discovered the grand world outside of my mid-size suburban life. The comments got me thinking, though. Perhaps I will never find a way to fit in around here and be totally at peace. Does Chicago beckon my name? </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: lucida grande;">How am I doing these days? </span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana; font-style: italic;">I'm confused.</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana; font-style: italic;">I'm homesick.</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana; font-style: italic;">I feel lost.</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana; font-style: italic;">It doesn't seem like God is around.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: lucida grande;">This is just me writing openly, honestly. Some might criticize my apparent doubt. But relax people, it's just a feeling. I know we're not suppose to trust those. I can give you the correct theological counterpoint til I'm blue in the face, but just let me say what I feel. Okay?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: lucida grande;">Even though I don't sense God around, I know His fingerprints have been showing up in my life. He's provided two jobs for me. I've met some intriguing people...even a guy named Bryan who is a woman named Asia by night. God has been providing for my needs day by day. I'm fortunate to have two parents who are willing to put up with me- for as long as I need to stay. Not to mention, the amazing support Emili and Jon have been in my life. Their friendship and proximity after 6 years of distance are gifts to me. I do have some kickbutt brothers and sisters around here too ( Jennifer & Andy, Timothy, Danny & Desiree). </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: lucida grande;">It reminds me of a Christian Living book I read one time </span><span style="font-style: italic; font-family: lucida grande;">Far From Home</span><span style="font-family: lucida grande;"> by Joseph Stowell. In it, the author writes something to this effect, </span><span style="font-style: italic; font-family: lucida grande;">Our heart will never be truly at rest until it is at home with the Lord.</span><span style="font-family: lucida grande;"> I know I'm only 25, but I think I'm ready to die now. Living life is too hard. There are too many decisions. Too much confusion. Relational strain and stress to deal with all the time. I'm over it. </span><br /><span style="font-family: lucida grande;">Then I'm reminded of the Apostle Paul and how much he desired to be at home with the Lord but he asked God to keep him on earth to be used as long as God needed him. He went through some pretty tough stuff, and God kept bringing him through. Guess he wasn't finished with old Paul, yet.</span><br /><span style="font-family: lucida grande;">Or what about that Rachel girl from Columbine. She asked God to use her life for His glory, and God allowed Rachel's death to be the influence and example to millions of people.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic; font-family: lucida grande;">What we do in life echos throughout eternity</span><span style="font-family: lucida grande;">. I like that quote from </span><span style="font-style: italic; font-family: lucida grande;">Gladiator</span><span style="font-family: lucida grande;">. No matter whether you last a long time or get to exit planet earth well before your prime- the impact of one life focused on Christ is potentially life changing.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Well, this blog certainly ended differently than I thought it would. Funny how a steady stream of thoughts when followed sequentially leads to a different conclusion.</span></span></span>melodyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10262897966449521733noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2884738002084117746.post-80127261755169321842009-09-29T16:09:00.007-05:002009-09-29T16:42:26.705-05:00morphing power<div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);font-size:130%;" ><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Many people have asked how Josh and I's relationship is going since we live in the same state now. I could say so much! It continues to morph and change in so many different ways as <span style="font-size:180%;">God keeps working</span> in both our lives. </span></span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);font-size:130%;" ><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I usually just simplify it and tell people, "It's very different!" That isn't a bad thing. I think a relationship done primarily long distance can only grow so much by phone. Even when we did get to see each other every 6-8 weeks- there was pressure to maximize the time together because of the 15-20 hour window in a weekend. Just as quickly as I came into town, I was leaving. Our relationship felt very much like a dream at times. I found myself questioning, <span style="font-style: italic;">"Is this REAL? Does this guy with a beautiful heart really exist?"</span> I was happy/nervous to end the 9 months of long distance + move closer. But the strangest thing is that even though I'm about 300 miles closer to Josh- the remaining 27 miles between us is maddening. I still feel far away. It still feels like a <span style="font-size:180%;">long distance relationship</span>...but it's not. </span></span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);font-size:130%;" ><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Isn't that so human? </span></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);font-size:130%;" ><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">We're <span style="font-size:180%;">rarely satisfied</span> with the things in the present. </span></span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);font-size:130%;" ><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">And so, the nights I leave his house, I try to remind myself of how it used to be and how good we have it now. And the words of my mother (and every other close, wise woman friend) come floating through my head...<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:courier new;" >"Enjoy the season you're in." </span></span></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);font-size:130%;" ><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">(I sigh to myself on the drive.</span></span><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);">)</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);font-size:130%;" ><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">And focus on thanking God for <span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">the now</span></span>.</span></span><br /></div>melodyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10262897966449521733noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2884738002084117746.post-68104523276977150582009-09-24T23:41:00.005-05:002009-09-25T00:22:40.088-05:00Oz and Lucky 12<span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-family:arial;" >I begin this blog with the exhale of a deep breathe. Oxygen is good for the brain. </span> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiny5WFJvdC8wOka_9U_URlbHYAzYEwPPOCIzP5fLvGLsL53ys0wIoXJCSXZxiFm2QKBeHdLVBBYK8CG7UdcC2hWl11mGKO8vMhwvYOSZQRJrnpSdp85n5M6zd2FnuLkWF58MBbOsYVMg/s1600-h/wizardofoztechnicolor.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiny5WFJvdC8wOka_9U_URlbHYAzYEwPPOCIzP5fLvGLsL53ys0wIoXJCSXZxiFm2QKBeHdLVBBYK8CG7UdcC2hWl11mGKO8vMhwvYOSZQRJrnpSdp85n5M6zd2FnuLkWF58MBbOsYVMg/s400/wizardofoztechnicolor.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385270793526763138" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-family:arial;" >In the words of Dorothy, "We're not in Kansas anymore, Toto." Oh how well Dorothy expressed my emotion to a little dog with long bangs. Sometimes life just takes us places we never could have imagined. We don't remember exactly how we got there, but we fall asleep and wake up in a land filled with magical colors, little people, and a witch with striped socks. *Kerplop* Here I am.<br />Allow me to personalize how my life is like the Wizard of Oz:</span> <span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-family:arial;" ><br />1. My plain black-and-white life begins to feel boring, and I wonder if just maybe I'm missing out on something. </span> <span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-family:arial;" ><br />2. The mean lady tries to make my life difficult and intolerable. ("The mean lady" defined as people, things, situations, change.)</span> <span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-family:arial;" ><br />3. I secretly wish to fall asleep and wake up in a brand new life away from the present struggles.<br /></span> <span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-family:arial;" >4. I do. Suddenly, change happens swiftly and entirely in a grandiose way. I am delighted, yet slightly confused by the sensory overload.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-family:arial;" >5. Even after meeting Glenda, the good witch, and being bedazzled by her glittery gown... I still feel completely out of my element.</span> <span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-family:arial;" ><br />6. Some nice friends join me on the stroll down the yellow brick road. We all have our weaknesses, but we seem to make it together. Even though I try to wander off on my own, and I fail- the friends catch up to me and save my patooty.</span> <span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-family:arial;" ><br />7. Bad stuff tries to prevent my progress and swoops down out of the sky. I get "caught up" for a while...even getting trapped in a castle, but my friends eventually rescue me. And the wicked witch melts with one little bucket of water. (Arguably, way too easy of a death for something so threatening.)</span> <span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-family:arial;" ><br />8. Right now, I'm just trying to get past the poppy field. Those crazy, gaseous poppies are trying to put me to sleep. I'm getting more sleepy with every step, and the colors are intoxicating. Seems easier to lie down & take a snooze...and press on another day.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-family:arial;" >9. I imagine just as I have overcome the obstacles before with the help of (God and) my friends, I will eventually reach the Emerald City and sweet talk my way past the gate keeper.</span> <span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-family:arial;" ><br />10. There I will see the horses that remind me of my grandma's old skool Christmas tree, and I will get a makeover. I'm hoping this little parallel has to do with a total makeover to my attitude and character and life in general. Because, those things have pretty much bit the big one.</span> <span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-family:arial;" ><br />11. Balloon man will leave without me.</span> <span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-family:arial;" ><br />12. But I'll be okay because of the crazy ruby slippers. I have had the thing I needed to get back "home" the whole time. But I've been so caught up in everything happening to me, having false hope in the Great and Powerful Oz that I've neglected to see the reality and the helping hand that God has been offering to me the whole time. </span> <span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-family:arial;" ><br /><br />Self sufficiency, man. Why can't I just get over myself and let God do His thang? I'll tell you why- because I'm human. I fail. I surrender, and I take back. I doubt, and I cry my eyes out. But God keeps tilting my head back and making me look Him in the face. </span> <span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-family:arial;" >But I'll tell ya, even though I'm stuck in the intoxicating poppy field right now, I'm excited to know- when all this is done- I'm gonna click my heels and be able to say, "There's no place like home. There's no place like home." ...the arms of the Father IS my home. No matter what my mailing address is. </span>melodyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10262897966449521733noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2884738002084117746.post-5177130830227374382009-08-31T15:33:00.004-05:002009-08-31T15:56:55.218-05:00movers and shakers<span style="font-family:courier new;color:#339999;"><span style="color:#cc0000;"><em>I'm about ready to throw a computer out the window. I want to upload pictures to share on here and on facebook, but nothing seems to be working for me today. Curses.<br /></em></span><br /><em>Well, it's official. I have been relocated to Grafton, WI, for about one week now. Alot of people have been asking me how it's going. Hmm. I always stop to consider the question in that moment because quite honestly it changes minute-by-minute sometimes.<br /></em><strong><span style="color:#cc0000;">I miss-</span></strong><br />1. my friends in Minnesota.<br />2. my radio station- The Current.<br />3. working two jobs. (At this point, I'll take just ONE job- that'd be nice.)<br />4. Super Target...one stop shopping<br />5. having my own tv whenever i want to use it.<br />6. my rent-a-dog Scooter. (That crazy, senile pooch got to my heart.)<br />7. eating big lunches & small dinners.<br />8. FREEWAYS! I'm relearning to drive by paying attention to the speed limit signs because there are seriously small town cops <strong>lurking</strong> around <strong>every</strong> corner.<br />9. high speed internet without time restrictions. (thank you northwestern)<br />10. unique people wearing unique clothes with unique tattoos and piercings.<br /><br />But being here... has it's perks.<br /><strong><span style="color:#cc0000;">I enjoy-</span></strong><br />1. seeing Josh every other day or so. Knowing he's only a 30 minute car ride away brings joy 7 relief to my heart.<br />2. spending time with my family members even though it seeems that the pace of their lives has definitely picked up since I lived here last. (Not hard to do- since it's been quite a few years.)<br />3. the option in my day to take my 7 yr old nephew and 2 yr old niece to the park for a picnic lunch if I want to.<br />4. helping my mom with household tasks (ex. hanging laundry on the line, cleaning the kitchen)<br />5. my sister bringing me free lattes which she made at home.<br />6. being near Lake Michigan again.<br />7. having Emili and Michelle up the road or down the freeway. : )<br />8. running into old friends at the coffee shop and catching up on life.<br />9. church shopping. Can you believe it? I have one week under my belt, and I have found it to be quite enlightening as each body of believers is sure to have its defining qualities.<br />10. discovering all the ministries reaching out to milwaukee. Glad to know outreach is happening to the 8th poorest city in the nation.<br /><br /><span style="color:#cc0000;"><em>Still a mix of emotions regarding this decision, but I'm reminded of God's words to me which brought me here. My friends (wherever they are) have been an encouragement to me as well. And so, I breathe in & out another double sigh and gear up for the next thing....whatever that is.</em></span></span>melodyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10262897966449521733noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2884738002084117746.post-2648608237437792362009-08-13T17:33:00.003-05:002009-08-13T17:47:43.936-05:00goodbye minnie<span style="color:#000099;">Here I am again.<br />Sorry for the absence. It was not intentional, by any means. Blogging just isn't high on the priority list. There's been alot going on...<br />*************************************************************<br />7 years<br />5 homes<br />1 bachelor degree<br />1 speeding ticket<br />4 parking tickets<br />3 boyfriends<br />Countless harsh winter days<br />3 cars (that's right, count 'em)<br />A dozen or so weddings<br />... and it's time to leave Minnesota. :-(<br /><br />Sniffle, tear*<br />The time has come for me to again uproot and relocate. This time back to the motherland that flows with milk & cheese. While I'm ready for the change, the number of goodbyes seem to be endless. Much love and many tears have been exchanged- only to ease the loss for a moment with a hug. I bustle from dinner date, to pool party, to lunch, to coffee, to Farewell Party...all the while my little bottom dwelling home gets packed up in the wee hours of the night little-by-little. Spaces and shelves clearing off, things being trashed that haven't been touched or used in 2+ years.<br /><br />There is a season for everything under the sun...</span>melodyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10262897966449521733noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2884738002084117746.post-16285975193422627672009-07-18T12:55:00.005-05:002009-07-18T13:20:06.023-05:00the case of the Angela's<span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;color:#33cc00;">I stumbled upon an old childhood friend some time ago. Maybe some of you with Covered Bridge roots remember her- Angela Joyce. We use to be good friends back in the days of navy blue jumpers and patriotic programs. She friended me on facebook which is when I discovered she's in Arizona trying to make it big with a singing career. There was no doubt in my mind that one day that concert pianist would succeed musically. She had hardcore talent at 9 years old- probably had something to do with her rigorous piano training from the Russian lady. She just recorded her first album in L.A. I'm pretty sure she writes all her music and plays it too. You can hear some of her music at: </span><a href="http://www.myspace.com/thesoundofangelajoyce"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;color:#33cc00;">www.myspace.com/thesoundofangelajoyce</span></a><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#33cc00;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#993399;">Real potential, yo.</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#33cc00;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#33cc00;">My <strong>other friend Angela</strong> <strong>Thomas</strong> taught me one of life's greatest music lessons. Listen to the whole song before critiquing it. Then ask yourself, can you imagine this being played on The Current? Does this artist bring a different sound than anything that's out there? Even if the lyrics are crap, do they have a unique image? Changed my life. Thanks A*</span></span>melodyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10262897966449521733noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2884738002084117746.post-26425424074038389512009-07-18T11:53:00.002-05:002009-07-18T12:54:36.330-05:00tick tock, diddly deeMy blogging activity has slowed down considerably these days. I would definintely blog more if I joined the millions of Americans and invested in my own personal MAC or PC. But alas, that requires a certain amount of cash flow which is unavailable at this time. Another funny thing is I'm probably the last girl who goes running with her cd-walkman. But you know what? I've heard countless stories about ipods that crash or break after just two years. I've had my trusty cd-walkman for 7 years, I think. As technology advances and adds all those superb features, there's more stuff that can go wrong in the microchip brain.<br /><br />Clocks. Maybe I'm a dork, but I think programming clocks to read correctly is kind of fun. I enjoy this activity at the start and end of daylight savings time. (maybe for the 30 seconds of entertainment it provides or maybe it's the humorous childhood memory it evokes of dad traipsing around the house at midnight in his pajamas to fix the clocks before he goes to bed...he took much pride in this bi-annual task) But what confuses me is people who <em>seem</em> to love clocks but don't take care of fixing the time. For example, the other day I was cleaning the house (as part of my rental duties) and I was kind of in a time crunch. I just wanted to glance at a clock to see how I was doing time-wise. I kid you not, I looked at 6 clocks in the room before I found one that actually displayed the correct time. I guess my thoughts are- if you aren't going to program your clocks just pack them away or sell them- whatever- 'cause otherwise it's just something extra for me to dust.<br /><br />Visitation. I'm gettin' pretty pumped 'cause Michelle and Caitlin, two of my closest friends from junior high & up are coming to <strong>visit </strong>me in 2 weeks! It's not <em>quite </em>girls weekend b/c my bestest friend Emili can't make the trip due to responsibilities back in Belgium. (Not the country, folks- the town in Wisconsin that's a corn island...almost every way into town is surrounded by corn fields) But at least 3 of the 4 ACE High girls will be together enjoying each others company. What to do... I want to take them to Movie in the Park, maybe go to The Dakota Jazz club or The Fineline Music Cafe, and Caitlin needs to shop at Heartbreaker in Uptown (they have scarves galore & she love, love, LOVES scarves).<br /><br />This just in--> Josh might be coming up to visit in the next couple of weeks too! Otherwise we'd have 53 days in between seeing each other and that's entirely too long. There's a large tribe of people who want to meet him still, so I'll have to make some arrangements while he stays in the Twin Cities. It will be spectacular to spend time with him here on my "stomping grounds".melodyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10262897966449521733noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2884738002084117746.post-14234818088245582472009-07-08T13:33:00.003-05:002009-07-08T14:47:19.312-05:00bite-size faith cheerios<span style="font-family:verdana;">I've been thinking about FAITH lately. Turns out- it's complex, yet simple. As I journaled about this the other night, I realized there are several other basics that get paired with a healthy faith. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">For example, surrender. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">You can't have a strong faith without surrender. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">And it's not just a one time deal- you get to keep practicing surrender with your faith 'cause as crazy, fallen humans we keep taking the control away from God. We keep falling into this grand illusion that somehow our way is better, easier, more manageable because it takes the mystery of how God will choose to work out of the Faith equation. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Then there is the arch nemesis of faith- doubt. Except for doubt could also be the greatest allie to faith. You see, doubt can either spiral you deep down and make you lose your faith completely. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">OR </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">It can be the element that makes you think critically about faith- test it and find that it makes faith emerge stronger, brighter, bolder than ever before. Thus becoming the element you needed to get your rear in gear and put some muscle to that anorexic faith. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">See? Tricky. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Anyway- it made me see in a fresh way how much we need the truth of Scripture in our hearts. It's in those moments of doubt and lack of surrender that we are reminded by the Holy Spirit's prompting what IS truth. He is so good to remind us of those things when we begin to sink into ourselves. We/I am so unworthy; but it doesn't matter. He goes to search us out again & again and bring us back into his safe pasture. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">This is the great Lord and Savior Jesus Christ that we serve. Someone who searches us out when we carelessly wander away from safe pasture. He is worthy of all power and glory forever and ever. Amen.</span>melodyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10262897966449521733noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2884738002084117746.post-49159987912348853362009-07-01T16:29:00.004-05:002009-07-01T16:55:38.883-05:00grocery stores and cowbell<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxZIGtP-o9D9vso1r4wxWJcUb_HHmtSw3SeEiigffCHNQ6WL0N6aXAW4TjqwhBZeIlBfUKmii7wu70ioHMmT5wh70nteGHPXqB1vJcm5xNARSkGwH93bbJkNyTVNKYA6E9s0P_QdJZdg/s1600-h/grapefruit.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353613402258498786" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 350px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 346px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxZIGtP-o9D9vso1r4wxWJcUb_HHmtSw3SeEiigffCHNQ6WL0N6aXAW4TjqwhBZeIlBfUKmii7wu70ioHMmT5wh70nteGHPXqB1vJcm5xNARSkGwH93bbJkNyTVNKYA6E9s0P_QdJZdg/s400/grapefruit.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"><span style="color:#ff0000;">I was overcome last night by cravings. Food cravings of the grandest sort. It was 10:37pm and I wanted a grapefruit. And Muenster cheese.</span> </span><br /><br /><div><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;">Before you knew it, I was walking through Byerly's (lovingly referred to as the CARPETED grocery store), in my pajamas. I located the grapefruit- chose the roundest one and headed for the Dairy section. There I located the deliciousness known as Muenster. No other cheese would do. That's what I wanted. A smile of satisfaction crept across my face, and I pranced out of the grocery store one very happy woman. T</span><span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:130%;"><span style="color:#ff0000;">hus is the freedom of a single lady with a car.</span> </span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">*****************************************</span></div><div><span style="font-size:130%;"></span> </div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353612283262585842" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdzus2cf8c8bImHCV-7hpHjoW2wDB67qFHQLV465xHcFe-0W4WPgHYbo3sZ7Ogh6KxrIsAafvEWrqCRaIimVqCbKiwR0sNwk0mHR_vk6qLCQSxWVfCX7USkjUdF4SGWpSiMl9N4FDxSQ/s400/cowbell...say+no+more.bmp" border="0" /><span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;">I love songs that use a cowbell. There's something very distinct and quirky about this instrument. I immediately begin to picture Will Ferrell make a fool out of himself- pounding on the cowbell in one memorable SNL skit. Immediate smile.</span></div></div>melodyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10262897966449521733noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2884738002084117746.post-74831379746069450502009-06-18T09:05:00.003-05:002009-06-18T09:44:50.927-05:00orange julius<span style="font-family:verdana;color:#00cccc;"><span style="color:#ff6600;">Paco & his bag of chips</span>- I was walking by a fast food place the other day when I noticed this man standing around & behind the building- probably on break. I watched him as he glanced to and fro- upon determining (inaccurately, i might add) that he was not being watched- he took the last crumbly bits hand full of chips and shoved them in his mouth like he was in some kind of Crumbly Chip Eating Contest. It was kinda funny. I smiled to myself and kept walking.</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#00cccc;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#00cccc;"><span style="color:#ff6600;">Smooth talker</span>- There's this coworker from another office who calls me sometimes and keeps asking me to talk like radio syndicated host Delilah. She says I have a very nice phone voice. It's calming. Perhaps I should start my own radio show and give people crap advice and play cheesy, older-than-dirt songs to fit the listener mood. </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#00cccc;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#00cccc;"><span style="color:#ff6600;">Kodak moments</span>- Organization is sweet. In preparation for relocating my home, I decided to buy some photo albums and put all the pictures that were still in their nice little red photo packets into a book. It took me a long time because there's always the random pictures you stumble upon through the picture piles that should have been in the book on page 5-12, but now you're on page 60. My Type A tendencies finally began to diminish about hour 3 into the project. I finally just created a Randoms photo album. It's very representative of my life, so I'm not too bothered by it. Overall, I'd say it was fun and relaxing and a jont down memory lane. Things I had forgotten that I'd done or experienced. But it was mostly weird because I could remember the exact emotion and moment of the picture taking day. Memory is quite sci-fi.</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#00cccc;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#00cccc;"><span style="color:#ff6600;">Husband and Wife Forevah</span>- So, my little brother is going to pledge his love & devotion forever to Desiree this weekend. (Side note: When she tells you to remember the spelling of her name as "It's spelled like desire, but then add an 'e'." ...don't laugh. She really is quite serious about this little memory trick.) Jennifer and I will help with the decorations and have a grand ol' time, I'm sure. More details and pictures on this post-wedding.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#00cccc;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#00cccc;"><span style="color:#ff6600;">Sales calls</span>- Don't ever respond with interest to those auto glass people over the phone. They start to stalk you and not leave you voicemails. Instead, they choose to call every hour until you answer (even if you tell them to leave a message). Seething annoyance begins to rise. What began as a mere curiousity in auto glass coverage turns into being forced to replace a windshield (that really wasn't bothering you very much at all). Lame.</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#00cccc;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff6600;">The End.</span>melodyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10262897966449521733noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2884738002084117746.post-67819422054379495532009-06-15T19:41:00.004-05:002009-06-15T19:56:56.019-05:00heavy metal screaming encore<strong><span style="font-family:courier new;color:#000000;">ARRRRRRgh. Smeesh. Blah.</span></strong><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;color:#000000;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;color:#000000;">I have not been in the highest of spirits lately. So many thoughts buzzing in my brain. So many things to do. Worry begins to creep in, and I realize I'm doubting God's timeframe.</span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;color:#000000;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;color:#000000;">I just want to get out. I wanna be done and move on with my life. I wanna kiss it all goodbye and not have to deal with stupid "politics". <strong>Run</strong>--> my natural response to unpleasantness.</span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;color:#000000;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;color:#000000;">This is transition time for me- in so many different areas. A general sense of uneasiness, impatience, and bad attitude pervade my days. I don't like it very much. In fact, I try to pray it all away- but it doesn't work all the time. I feel like such a downer. Then I just want to isolate myself and protect everyone around me from "catching" my mopiness. (Is that even a word? It is today, i guess) Panic tries to creep in as unending, undetermined future spans beyond the horizon. </span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;color:#000000;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;color:#000000;">I have a headache.</span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;color:#000000;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;color:#000000;">*sigh*</span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;color:#000000;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;color:#000000;">stupid adulthood. i curse the day you arrived. </span><br /><div align="right"><span style="font-family:courier new;color:#666666;"><strong>A poem: </strong></span></div><div align="right"><span style="font-family:courier new;color:#666666;"><strong>wild and free i use to be</strong></span></div><div align="right"><span style="font-family:courier new;color:#666666;"><strong>coffee and friends abound;</strong></span></div><div align="right"><span style="font-family:courier new;color:#666666;"><strong>now i'm alone with no one at home</strong></span></div><div align="right"><span style="font-family:courier new;color:#666666;"><strong>and question marks speckle the room.</strong></span></div><div align="right"><span style="font-family:courier new;color:#666666;"><strong>The End</strong></span></div><div align="right"><span style="font-family:courier new;color:#666666;"><strong>(I never said it was good)</strong></span></div>melodyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10262897966449521733noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2884738002084117746.post-2396010958510169002009-06-10T12:24:00.002-05:002009-06-10T12:30:13.624-05:00David has words.<div align="left"><span style="font-family:courier new;color:#33cc00;">I was reminded of this passage today and thought I'd share it with my faithful readers.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#33cc00;"></span> </div><div align="center"><span style="color:#33cc00;"><strong>Psalm 27<br />A psalm of David.</strong><br /> <br /> 1 The Lord is my light and my salvation— so why should I be afraid? The Lord is my fortress, protecting me from danger, so why should I tremble? 2 When evil people come to devour me, when my enemies and foes attack me, they will stumble and fall. 3 Though a mighty army surrounds me, my heart will not be afraid. Even if I am attacked, I will remain confident.<br /> 4 The one thing I ask of the Lord— the thing I seek most— is to live in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, delighting in the Lord’s perfections and meditating in his Temple. 5 For he will conceal me there when troubles come; he will hide me in his sanctuary. He will place me out of reach on a high rock. 6 Then I will hold my head high above my enemies who surround me. At his sanctuary I will offer sacrifices with shouts of joy, singing and praising the Lord with music.<br /> 7 Hear me as I pray, O Lord. Be merciful and answer me! 8 My heart has heard you say, “Come and talk with me.” And my heart responds, “Lord, I am coming.” 9 Do not turn your back on me. Do not reject your servant in anger. You have always been my helper. Don’t leave me now; don’t abandon me, O God of my salvation! 10 Even if my father and mother abandon me, the Lord will hold me close.<br /> 11 Teach me how to live, O Lord. Lead me along the right path, for my enemies are waiting for me. 12 Do not let me fall into their hands. For they accuse me of things I’ve never done; with every breath they threaten me with violence. <strong> 13 Yet I am confident I will see the Lord’s goodness while I am here in the land of the living.<br /> 14 Wait patiently for the Lord. Be brave and courageous. Yes, wait patiently for the Lord.</strong></span></div>melodyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10262897966449521733noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2884738002084117746.post-8907063937966767662009-06-06T13:03:00.003-05:002009-06-06T14:03:57.115-05:00this one is for the fans<div>Much has transpired throughout the last couple weeks. Some of it I won't write about because the ambiguous "they" say- it's not a good idea to write about anything you wouldn't want the whole world to have access too. <div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344284260416138066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3m-Qv8wKXBDc3QsQDFpP87XjY2W_3Ob8babZeE-xTqHfcNFecqPnbWAr6-Lu7TNKelvqKbkMif51PjYhdeVEPp5F-_Sg_dyPG7JdDW89FP99pc2TvgQXReT7JvrBj-yWo42-9lJWJCA/s400/DSC01306.JPG" border="0" /></div><div align="center">("Everybody is kung fu fighting! Fast as lightning...")</div><div>I spent a lovely Memorial Day weekend at camp with the family. Well, part of the family anyway... Mom, Dad, Timothy, & Jotham. Is it bad that I really don't feel like being friendly and meeting new people when I'm there? I just get tired of meeting people and being forced into shallow conversation. I'd rather give my family the time & attention I usually can't (due to distance), & catch up with the old friends that inevitably cross my path when I'm at CFS. Timothy & I took a canoe out on the lake and we paddled out to the giant underwater rock in honor of Emili. I try to do that when I'm there- have a moment with the rock on her behalf. Timothy says he's never seen the rock before- I think he's taking crazy pills. Pretty sure he has.<br /></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344284254949594354" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq37PJ1PYX2yscy_2dBXYScTVx3ha-gPdnY7vTUStge2GxDqOVFx0wuZeR4xNap_I4dDxE-CpFScMAc0mObeS1wxEYIb6h7JU6wR4B5dgrbfmSspZcgE72Unz-BtE9mQbKFgbh9AFLiQ/s400/DSC01304.JPG" border="0" />Jotham & I also spent time floating around the lake via canoe. (Can you tell that I prefer them?) He kept wanting to approach the shore so he could see down to the bottom. He started pointing out different pieces of coral. Without crushing his little spirit, I tried to explain that there is no coral in Central Wisconsin freshwater lakes. He also showed me the spots that pirates probably left buried, soggy treasure. This time, I just listened and smiled. Imagination is a beautiful thing.<br /><br /><div>After going to a camp for so long, all mom & I are really interested in is beach time. Sure, we do the courtesy walk around & see the mini-farm, archery, & air rifles....but we always end up back at the beach- soaking up solar Vitamin D. In my opinion, all good vacations should involve a beach.</div><br /><div>Following the holiday weekend, I was able to head home to Wisconi & spend a few days with the boyfriend, Josh. I have been withholding this important information from public forums because I wanted him to meet mom & dad first. Now that we can check the Meet & Greet off the list- I may write more about him in my blogs. (Even though he's kind of anti-blog. Not sure why- as I appreciate it for the artistic expression. To each his own, i suppose.) </div></div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344284268065237618" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuG8qZF4v5VSkq8TUq-ilNIVXk4PBJ4nikdNURUhWuBwLiFD5300xvTxHQima7ZdseBbtO27wCcE_7pdFi00oPxDzIJCmQPfWw6aeAwVMejB2WCMIfLnq1_EUFktzJPn-8y36p8FO8jg/s400/DSC01309.JPG" border="0" /></div><div>Josh asked me what I wanted to do this summer together. I told him (with great exuberance, I might add)... I WANNA RIDE ROLLERCOASTERS! So, we planned a trip to Six Flags Great America with my big bro, Timothy, & Josh's sidekick, Paul. Upon arriving in the theme park, we all decided to conquer the Giant Drop first since we dislike this ride the most. We did it, but I gotta say there were a few of us squirming in our seats and whining like babies as the ride lifted us higher & higher into the air- relief was found as we all screamed like school girls when the ride dropped us several stories down to the ground. </div><div>We decided to ride The Raging Bull 'coaster next- upon entering the waiting line corral...I was informed purses were no longer allowed on most of the rollercoaster rides. (A cheap ploy by Six Flags management to eek yet another buck out of you for choosing their overpriced theme park.)</div><div>This is when St. Michael appeared out of the masses & offered us the sweetest deal of the day. He will hold my purse if we want to take a free, hour long VIP tour of Six Flags...take us straight to the front of the lines on 5 rollercoasters & let us pick whatever seat we want. Yes, thank you, I will take the front row. What a wonderful & unexpected surprise...thanks to my purple parcel & St. Michael. </div><div>(Warning: Before you choose to ride 5 of the most extreme rollercoasters in an hour, it's always good to consider the effect it may have on your stomach. I'm not gonna say who- but someone's stomach didn't hold very well & it was not a pretty color coming up & out.) </div><div>It was a great day. We left the park with a great deal of accomplishment knowing we had conquered all the coasters. </div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344284267696214274" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNyUBcyXIDzdbXxcblyQdM6xy55D6kBhAxMuU0g7DM011bgrxfrMHQCuMK9pXutt9a5HcWOb6j6yCyOVihD0khdeItdj2eEi8pjdha_5dMMddeaOmT6NpauzaFc3pZyljkdfUuYCwFAQ/s400/DSC01308.JPG" border="0" /></div><div>Think I'm gonna end it here... sure there were many other things that happened over the week- Espresso by Jennifer, Em & Mel's Coffee Tales, & QT with dear, ol' dad. But, I haven't even started the task I came to the library to accomplish. </div><div> </div><div>Love to you all* :)</div>melodyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10262897966449521733noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2884738002084117746.post-13348812949319114462009-05-20T12:29:00.002-05:002009-05-20T14:13:23.287-05:00eek- ugh- ouch<span style="color:#33ccff;"><strong>Oh poor baby finger... you'll be back to yourself real soon.</strong></span><br /><span style="color:#33ccff;"><strong></strong></span><br /><span style="color:#33ccff;"><strong>sooo i sprained my little pinkie finger yesterday. WHO KNEW it would hurt to move your whole hand when the littlest appendage is black & blue & swollen?! I created a makeshift finger splint to hold the finger straight & in place with two large paperclips and adhesive tape. </strong></span><br /><span style="color:#33ccff;"><strong></strong></span><br /><span style="color:#33ccff;"><strong>I thought it would be a really cool idea to try to swing one of my legs over to dismount from the bike when it was still moving. Miscalculating the amount of space needed to accomplish such a maneuver, i lost my balance a little bit and hit my hand really hard on a car side mirror. I do not recommend trying this bicycle trick if 1.) You haven't ridden a bike in a long time. 2.) You're borrowing the bike from someone who is taller then you- thus requiring more balance to stay on. </strong></span><br /><span style="color:#33ccff;"><strong></strong></span><br /><span style="color:#33ccff;"><strong>I secretly have always wanted to sprain a finger, so I count this as an exciting day in my life. One more thing to check off the Life To Do List. </strong></span><br /><span style="color:#33ccff;"><strong></strong></span><br /><span style="color:#33ccff;"><strong>Better go change out my ice pack...</strong></span>melodyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10262897966449521733noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2884738002084117746.post-49115318777525292422009-05-19T11:48:00.009-05:002009-05-19T12:21:02.533-05:00thinking about my arm fanny<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5zyd4IMJVsgGU4JuBY3V2ERKMjkk25KEkQ6qREuiV9x4f4wa-LSqH_Qp6jND-3KPPVQx76o5osCEnwrgSKJ8CLpwMNuPCaEsYAnBpL8k1HfZCKgysqkiswJv8MAuMKEPgDa1cQy7CHg/s1600-h/DSC01232.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337584278497984642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5zyd4IMJVsgGU4JuBY3V2ERKMjkk25KEkQ6qREuiV9x4f4wa-LSqH_Qp6jND-3KPPVQx76o5osCEnwrgSKJ8CLpwMNuPCaEsYAnBpL8k1HfZCKgysqkiswJv8MAuMKEPgDa1cQy7CHg/s400/DSC01232.JPG" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#993399;">Saturday May 16th<br /></span><div><div><br /><div><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#993399;">Began at 6:30AM...had to get up and be in St Paul at Como Lake Park by 7AM. It was freeezing! We got all set up for the Walk for Life. The masses of people came, registered, & conquerored the 2 mile route around the beautiful, but windy & chilly lake path.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#993399;">Spent a couple hours riding a bike around the community of Lauderdale surveying the community garage sales. I found & purchased:</span></div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#993399;">- 1 like-new pair of jeans (i'm obsessed, i know)</span></div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#993399;">- New pillar candles (The happy newlyweds tried to sell me their glass votives for displaying too)</span></div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#993399;">- 1 little red backpack for BeAcH DaYs this summer</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#993399;">Also-</span></div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#993399;">* The neighbors are very friendly, as it turns out. I don't know how successful the sales went for everyone because there are many "Free" piles in front of the neighbor's houses this week.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#993399;">* I ran into a friend from Camp Forest Springs. She was sitting at her friend's yard sale. We chatted it up for quite some time.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#993399;">* Many people commented on my wrist fanny pack which I have had since I was like 4 yrs old. This is a practical item for any person who plans to garage sale, bike ride, visit amusement parks, or just have a convenient, socially acceptable spot to stash some cash. (Apparently- caring cash in a bra strap is gross to some people...or just plain trampy.)</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#993399;">Enjoyed a 2-hr nap in my cozy, dark nook-of-a-basement.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#993399;">Went to work at Carlson. Encountered a crazy wedding crowd who liked breaking glassware a little too much and had trailer-trash tendencies. Gave a stranded co-worker a ride home & came all the way back to Minnetonka to closeout the shift. So tired...</span></div></div></div>melodyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10262897966449521733noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2884738002084117746.post-50027599073729714392009-05-19T11:05:00.003-05:002009-05-19T12:21:58.520-05:00St Paul Club reception<div align="center"><span style="color:#ff9900;">Katie & I went to Jill & Jimmy's wedding reception on Friday night. Jill looked gorgeous in a simple off-white dress that had a classic drapery look. Jimmy was quite peaceful, and insisted that Katie & I stay to dance longer... so we did. The overall crowd was dressed in classic, hot-rod fashion with a hint of vintage appeal. Very eclectic. The "Hot Rod gang" broke out into some swing dancing. </span></div><p align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337567303719228082" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI_kOGAG4ElxaTs_ud91mcWwbRduglOTgLmJnu-PQL-0-ao_4mEbce4bBeGh9ROQFVyDhpsPtENaobD-p16_i4EmVHwQUymPlCd8_sQvMI5LsZQTmawzNkmpIuU5kqgzCAjytuTJKQtg/s400/DSC01292.JPG" border="0" /> <span style="color:#ff0000;">I kept wanting to call the happy couple- Jilly and Jim.</span><br /></p><div align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337567308354379170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnPanU3ui9mDsi0n0u1K-PF0cJoolwab3lhWfsNl0ibpGE5IPvK6h4vziqmK-npMU5_Io0nIKwkmgUYk5zwqyepM2PLRf6-t55B5STBr_ZPlTzs8z0Qptu8QBdBorV6XviRaol9iPGlg/s400/DSC01297.JPG" border="0" /><span style="color:#000000;">Katie & I decided to entertain ourselves during the boring songs.<br />Please notice my wicked, sweet shoes. (That's the point of this shot)<br /></span></div>melodyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10262897966449521733noreply@blogger.com0