Q & A

You know you're finally done being sick when you get a full night's sleep.

You also know you had an intense abs workout the day before when you wake up from a full night's sleep and can't sit up and get out of bed.  Awesome.  Pure awesomeness.

Nothing new happened today.  Nothing terribly exciting or particularly dull.  It was just a regular day in the life of me.  I decided, though, that I wanted to look -- just look -- for a possibly nanny job around here, because I need to be making money.  On one application, it has this list of questions and I thought they were interesting.

These were the instructions: "Complete the sentences below.  Please put the first thing to pop into your head!"

And here is what I wrote:

I think growing up is -- the best part of life.
Life is precious because -- it is everything.
I always laugh when -- someone makes me laugh.
The worst thing a person could do is -- take away another person's happiness.
People deserve -- love.
The most important thing to me is -- my family.
People should -- fulfill their dreams.
What keeps me going is -- the promise of future blessings.
I do not like -- green eggs and ham.

What would your answers be?

Always look for the sunshine . . .

<3 Mel

Schindler

What could cause hundreds of people, human beings, to lose their humanity?  What could so possess them that they lost the understanding of what it means to be a person, a son, a mother, a friend?

This is a question I am sure I will never know the answer to.  To me it is utterly impossible, but I know it to be true.  How else do you explain what the Germans did to the Jewish people during World War II?

Tonight I watched Schindler's List for my WWII class.  If ever there was a movie that was so much more than actors on a screen, this would be it.  It is more than a story.  It is history, it is real, it is true, it is unbearable.  I can never know what that time was like.  No matter how many movies I watch, books I read, or personal accounts I listen to, I will never know.  And it makes me sick to think that the people of today's world have little desire to know.  Do we remember?  Do we think about the more than six million lives lost?  About the millions of descendants that would never exist?  Do we take time to recognize how significant a single life is?  One person is linked to hundreds, thousands, millions more — and if they were to die, all of those would be lost.  Do we think about that?

Near the end of the film, Schindler is leaving the workers he saved.  He must flee because he is a member of the Nazi party and therefore, at the end of the war, is considered a criminal.  As he leaves, he looks at his car and says, "The car could have given me 10 more people.  Why did I keep the car? And this pin, it could have been two more people! Or at least one! I could have done more! I could have saved more!"  He breaks down in tears, of regret, of fear, of pain.  His friend looks at him and says simply, "You saved 1100 people.  1100 people are alive because of you.  You did enough."  At that moment I wanted to scream at Schindler that he saved more than 1100 people! He saved thousands of their descendants.  He saved generations of people —mothers, fathers, sons, daughters, friends, loved ones.  All alive now because of the "few" 1100 he did save.  At the very end writing scrolls across the screen and tells us that there are fewer than 4,000 Jews left in Poland today, but that there are 6,000 Jews who are descendants of "Schindler's Jews."  Remarkable.

More than anything, what I want to know is how.  How? How did those people — not just Schindler's 1100 but the other survivors as well — how did they find the sunshine?  How did they find the will to go on?

<3 Mel

Dreams for the Future

A relaxing day, I'd say. I needed it after such a busy and stressful day yesterday.

I finished my memoir.  I turned it in today.  It was actually a great feeling — almost a relief.  I finally got my story out there and now it's up to the world, or just my teacher, to do with it what they will.

In Eng 220 today I experienced an example of composing personal history — in this case it was oral history.  It hit me with great power that this is something I could see myself doing.  Maybe not always interviewing, but researching and composing histories of people.  I am a history major and I became one because I love people's stories.  They fascinate me.  This is what I want to do.  I don't know how or in what capacity, but I want to research personal histories—go through documents, interviews, keepsakes—and piece together people's lives.  I know this is my dream, I just have to figure out how to accomplish it.

It was a cloudy and rainy (literally) day today, and this realization was just the perfect amount of sunshine.

<3 Mel    

La Stella Mia

One week from this moment.  That's how long I've had this cold.  Just so you know.

All right, moving on.  I read this poem for Italian class tonight, and I think it's actually quite interesting. Here is a snippet:

"Odio chi m'ama, ed amo chi mi sprezza.
. . . Così ne la tua scuola, Amor, si face
sempre il contrario di quel ch'egli è degno:
l'umil si sprezza, e l'empio si compiace."

I love the openness of this poem.  I love that it tells a truth, and doesn't really agree or disagree with it.  The narrator is just resigned that this is the way Love goes.  I hate those who love me and love those who despise me.  It's so very sad.  But, she says, this is just the way it goes — you want what you can't have, and don't truly appreciate what is in front of you.  It's definitely a lesson to think about as we go about our lives, meeting new friends, reconnecting with old ones, and loving life.

Remember to always look for your own sunshine. . .

<3 Mel

Sunny

Sick sick sick.

I'm still sick.  And somehow it seems to be getting worse as the days progress rather than better.  My medicine is additionally no longer functioning properly.  So I'm still sick.  Really sick.

Somehow, though, my sick days also consist of happy things (just like yesterday).  

Today, I got my score back from my first test this semester (Italian 202) and I got 94%! An A! Woohoo!  I felt proud.  Go me! (seriously, I hope these past two days aren't meant to be a lesson in humility. . .)

And then, when I got home from classes, a package from Target was waiting for me! It was my brand-new rainboots that I ordered on Monday.  They came way faster than I expected!  Woohoo!

So, I must conclude that either Heavenly Father is trying to teach me a thing or two about being humble and removing pride from my life, or not skipping classes due to my sickness is bringing me blessings.

Or both.

Probably both.  Or just the former.  Who knows.

Maybe it means that little bits of sunshine can always be found on a cloudy day. . . .  Food for thought.

<3 Mel

Compliments

Soooo sick.  Yuck.

Moving on.  Today was a pretty good day!  It started off terribly.  I woke up and couldn't swallow, had a racking cough, couldn't breathe out of my nose, and had a throbbing headache.  I didn't have class until 1:30, so I just grabbed my computer and watched two episodes of 24 (greatest. show. ever.) on Netflix while lying in my bed.  Not too shabby -- really a rather relaxing morning.  Then as soon as I got up I realized I was still sick, and I hadn't finished my homework yet.  Lovely.

But the day went on, and I finished all my homework and watched another episode (it's just...so addicting. can't stop.) and I went off to my class.

In class we did a workshop for our memoirs.  In my group, mine was the last to be discussed.

Wow.  I was not expecting such a kind, wonderful response to my memoir!  Everyone said they loved my story and the way I wrote.  They loved the details and the way I conveyed my characters without coming out and just saying "I like this person" or "This person is mean."  They were so generous with compliments to me.... and honestly it felt awesome.

It is really quite difficult to write a piece of your life, a very personal piece, and hand it over to strangers.  It's hard to think that that part of your life is now in the minds of all the group members.  But the way they received it really took away my anxiety.  I couldn't believe how nice they all were.  They all gave me constructive criticism as well -- it is by no means whatsoever a perfect piece of writing.  But the way they complimented my writing meant so much to me.

If it is prideful to say that, I apologize.  I think, however, that sometimes it's good for us to accept compliments and allow them to give us a boost -- a burst of sunshine on a seriously dark cloudy day.

<3 Mel

Sick Day

Burning throat.  Throbbing headache. Stabbing pain in my chest.

Yep, that's how I feel right now.  I despise being sick.  Why do we all get sick? It's just not right.

What do I do when I'm sick?  Well, pretty much everything I do when I'm not sick.  Homework.  Jazzercise.  And Netflix.

Netflix is my biggest weakness.  Shows and movies galore -- watch instantly! The biggest problem is that they just recently changed the format.  Now, when you finish an episode of a show, the next episode automatically starts in 15 seconds.  Unless you stop it fast enough.  But you know, 15 seconds goes by fast, especially if you aren't motivated enough.  So the next episode just starts and what can I do? I can't leave it unfinished.  So I watch another one, while I'm doing my reading for classes.

It's a problem.

Reading is generally all the homework I have for my classes, so it's really easy to just say I'll read while I watch my show.  This is what happens:  2 pages of reading = 43 minutes of TV show

It's not a good system.  It's a problem.

Now, I do have friends.  And I do things, other than watch Netflix.  But I still Netflix.  And it is awesome.

Still looking for sunshine...

<3 Mel

Helen

I met Helen today.

Our ward went to a retirement home tonight.  They were having a Luau dance and we were invited.  My roommate and I donned dresses and drove over to the home.  The first thing we saw was an old gentleman dancing the swing with a young woman from our ward.  He danced every song with a different girl, and led them all perfectly.

My roommate and I roamed around, trying to find someone to speak with.  I spotted Helen.  We walked over and crouched next to her, striking up conversation.  For nearly an hour we learned this woman's story.  We asked her questions and she had wonderful memories to share with us.

She went on a mission to the "North Western states" when she was 21.  She met her husband in October 1940 at a mission reunion.  They started "going together" (I just love that phrase, don't you??) in April.  They got engaged in November and, even though he wanted to be married before Christmas, they got married January 7, 1942.  I asked her if they did anything fun on their dates.  "Well, we went to the temple," she replied.  How sweet, absolutely wonderful.  Her husband was an airplane mechanic in World War II.  She was one of ten children, and she and her husband had five of their own.  Four daughters and one son, who now lives in Washington with his wife.  She has grandchildren, great grandchildren, and great great grandchildren.

She loved to dance the jitterbug, waltz, and foxtrot.  When they had church dances, her brothers always had to dance at least one dance with her.  There were two boys in her ward that were "quite odd" and she felt bad for them.  So when they asked her to dance she never said no, even though the other girls did.  We don't learn to dance like that, Katie and I tell her.  Nowadays church dances involve jumping up and down and singing loudly.  We don't waltz.  We don't know how.

It is amazing what you can learn, what you can feel, when you're looking for sunshine on a cloudy day.

<3 Mel

What Made Me Laugh

"I'm not a robot, I'm just stupid!" -- Yunnie, my roommate, when typing in one of those captcha things.

"You have 1/8 of what I own? That's not good, give it back!" -- Katie, my roommate

The Road to Morocco - Moonlight Becomes You -- for some reason, this makes me laugh the hardest I ever have. ever.

"I've been carrying around this hammer for so long, my arm is Thor." -- Thor in How It Should Have Ended

"Peggy Sue, I love you!" "That rhymed! And that's not her name, it's Peggy Belle." "Peggy Belle, go to ... oh."

"I don't know karate, but I know ka-razy! And I will use it!" -- Shanghai Noon

"I'm Black, he's Tan.  How dare you assume!" -- Psych

"C'mon guys, let's hit the showers!" "Nothing but the cape!" -- Chris Evans and Chris Hemsworth The Avengers interview

"I'm not jealous. I'm Batman." -- The Avengers How It Should Have Ended

"Dude, you slapped a fiiiiish." -- YouTube video, bad lip-reading of Twilight


<3 Mel

Because of the Brave

I need to write more about Tuesday, September 11.  I had so many thoughts going through my head that I neglected to write about the most important one.

September 11, 2001 -- I wake up in the morning.  I'm getting ready for the day.  I always make my bed first, then get dressed and do my hair.  Then I usually go downstairs to the kitchen to eat breakfast.  I just finished my hair, so I walk past my mom's bedroom toward the stairs, ready to chow down some cereal.  As I walk past my mom's open bedroom door, I see her standing stiffly in front of her small TV.  She is just staring at it, and the screen is almost completely made up of ugly black and deep grey smoke.  "What's that?" I say.  "This is happening right now in New York," she says.

I cannot put into words how grateful I am to the people who serve in the military.  I cannot imagine even in a small margin how much they go through, what they experience, what life is to them.  I cannot say what it means to me to have people out there who don't know me but are willing to sacrifice themselves for me and my family and everyone I love.  It is unbelievable that we have so many selfless souls on this earth.  There will never be enough words to express my gratitude and the debt I feel to them.  Whoever you are, wherever you are, know that there are grateful people in this world, who love you.

Tears come to my eyes as I write this, because I feel like no matter what I do, it will never be enough to say 'thank you.'  I will never have the strength to serve in the military, but I hope someday I will personally know and love someone who does have the strength.  I hope I can show my gratitude to them and in some small way, it will be enough.

Land of the free, because of the brave.

<3 Mel

Self, Great Day.

I have so many thoughts today.  I'm not sure I can express all of them without being jumbled in the attempt.

Yesterday was another great day.  Just one of those days where by the end, you realize that everything was solid, good, fun.  It was a day of classes, homework, FHE, and sleep.  I learned how to play Splash (a game on the pool table) and I wrote my first Italian essay.

This really made my day.  I had to write 350 words in my Italian essay, and then take it to the Italian Writing Lab on campus, where an Italian professor would quickly run through it and pick out my grammatical errors.  Although I was worried about the length at first, I ended up with 364 words.  Plenty.  So I took it to my appointment at the Lab and the professor ran through it.  Literally ran (at least that's what it felt like).  She spoke such fast Italian I could hardly keep up.  She read right through, stopping every once in a while to tell me how to fix an error, then she would speed off again.  And then it was over.  She handed my paper back to me and said, "You write very well.  I'm impressed."  WOW.  This was my first experience really writing in Italian, and I got a compliment.  I walked away from that appointment with the brightest smile.  That felt so great.  It was a small thing, but it really gave me confidence and meant a lot to me.  

Today was another great day.  I got homework done, went to the grocery store, and then went to my two classes.  Afterward I went to see Professoressa Noble, the head of the Italian department.  I really wanted to ask her about Italian study abroad.

I learned that there are internships in Italy, offered Winter, Spring, Summer, and Fall.  Internships can be anywhere from law firms, museums, restaurants, hospitals, and more.  I spoke with her about my desire to go in the Spring.  She said it is absolutely possible, and gave me details about the program.  I would get to live in Siena, Italy from April 28th-June 22nd.  I would take 6 credits of classes, and then intern at my choice of location.  Because of my history interest, I might want to choose the museum option.  

This would be an INCREDIBLY expensive once-in-a-lifetime experience.  I cannot put into words how much I want to go, and how much it would mean to me to have the opportunity.  I know I will have to work hard to come up with money and good academic standing, but I have never before found something so worth it.

Always looking for the sunshine. :)

<3 Mel

Tears

Today was a great day.

Do you ever have days like that? Where, even though you don't really do much, you just know it was a great day?

Sacrament meeting at church was wonderful.  Great talks, lots of laughs, wonderful spirit.  In all it was a great church meeting.

After church I did homework.  Got quite a bit done, too.  I was able to talk to my mom for a little while, which is always nice.  And I made dinner for my roommates.  It was delicious, and my roommates thanked me over and over, saying how good it was.  This was one of the best parts of my day.

And then, we watched a movie.  The Lost Valentine.  Let me tell you, do NOT get yourself on a 40s-50s movie kick.  It is WAY too emotional, WAY too wonderful, and just plain SAD.  This movie is one of the three movies I have ever cried at.  I cried in Forrest Gump, when Lieutenant Dan walks into the wedding ceremony on new legs; I cried in P.S. I Love You, because Gerard Butler is just so adorable and it is so SAD that he died; and I cried in The Lost Valentine.  The. whole. way. through.  From beginning to end I had tears on my face.  This movie is so touching and beautiful.  A woman loses her husband in WWII (missing in action) and goes to the train station every year on their anniversary, waiting for him.

It may all have something to do with the fact that for some reason, my absolute greatest passion is World War II.  I have no idea why this is so important to me.  But that war for reasons unknown strikes me in ways nothing else can.  It is strange to say I love a war, because I actually hate it with my whole being.  But I have this longing to know the stories of the people who experienced it, globally.  I don't want those years and everything following them to be forgotten.

I'm looking for the sunshine on a cloudy day.

<3 Mel

1950s

Have you ever felt like you would fit better into a different era?  A different decade?  A time when people were so different from the way they are now.

As I study history and, mostly, watch movies, I feel more and more like I would have loved to grow up in the late 40s and 50s.  I know there is a reason I'm here now.  But those times, the way people lived and loved, seem so magical and so perfect to what I wish my life could be.

I just watched The Majestic, a film set in the 1950s.  The way they dressed, danced, played outside instead of watching a screen, worked together as a community, loved each other -- to me that is perfection.  That is the way life was meant to be lived.  It's not impossible to still live that way.  It is just so much more difficult due to the way the world has turned.

Life will always be remarkable.  It will always be a miracle, a thing worth fighting for and experiencing to the fullest.  It just saddens me that there is so much potential that seems to be slowly and steadily wasted as the years pass by.

If only I could live in the 50s.  At least, the movies make it seem fun.

<3 Mel

Christmas

Today was Christmas.

I have a copy of Elie Weisel's Night on my shelf at home, so I asked my mom if she could send it to me, since I need to read it for class.

I got a package in the mail today that had Night in it, and other fun things.  My mom also sent the comics from Sunday's paper, my calendar that I accidentally left behind, and a big box of Reese's Puffs.  

She knows me so well.  When I'm at home, I read the comics every morning while eating breakfast.  Since I don't have access to a newspaper while I'm at school, she knows I miss my tradition.  

I called my mom to thank her for the package, and while it was ringing I opened the Reese's Puffs and tossed a few into my mouth.  Completely stale. Yuck.  I was laughing about it when she answered.  Thanks for the treat mom, but they're completely stale.  We had a good laugh.

I am so lucky.  I'm the only student I know that gets packages from her parents.  Have you ever felt just lucky?  Like for once you're not the one who is jealous of someone else? 

That wasn't very eloquent.  But it's true!

As you can tell, I don't have a whole lot to talk about today.  It's been a long week. 

<3 Mel

A Story

First, I need to get this out of the way.

I LOVE Jeremy Renner.  Here is one of the reasons why:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cdtUdEoE-Q4&feature=fvwrel

And here's another:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QHpeg7ugA1g (Start at 5:15)

Isn't he just wonderful?


All right.  Back to my regular blog.

Memoir.  That's my assignment this week and let me tell you, it is a tough one.  I have to choose one memory (one!) and delve into it, retrieving every detail and weaving a likable, relatable story from it.  I have one memory in mind.  I feel that this memory, this time in my life, almost perfectly exemplifies who I was (and am, as a result) and what my family was like at that time, and how it all came together in that one day.  Hopefully, if I am able, I will portray through this example exactly what it was to live my life when I was in seventh grade.  Hopefully, if I am able, I will reach out to others with this story and they will be able to piece together their own interpretations and emotional responses to what I say.

I want so badly to get this right, to tell it the way I remember and the way it needs to be told.  If I am able.

This means a lot to me, because it is my story.  It is my life.  It is my memoir.

Tune in tomorrow to hear the story.

<3 Mel

Richard

I've had a lot to think about the past few days.

This weekend, Labor Day weekend (three days! woo hoo!), I sat down and wrote my rough autobiography.  It was basically straight facts, with a little of my quirkiness thrown in and a just dash of detail.  It was a lot harder than I thought to get the facts of my life down.  When did that happen again? was a common question I asked myself.  Also, 'Did that actually happen or was that just a story I heard?' was another one.  Overall it was a very new experience that I loved.  Although, the sad parts that I wrote about somehow found a way to sneak into my heart and create a little ache in those places that were hurt long ago.  Why is it so much easier to remember the sad times than the happy ones?

I took a break from my memory and watched The Runaway Bride.  Classic rom-com. So great.

I had been thinking about my past so much that I decided to take a moment and think about my future.  As I was watching, I thought to myself: 'Do we all want a Richard Gere like in this movie? Why do films like this one draw up this perfect man and have him say all the right things? Is it because they want the women of the world to look for a man like him? Or are they telling all the poor men who are forced to watch the film that they need to step it up and be like Richard?' In Runaway Bride, Richard Gere is suave, sexy, brilliant, and has all the right things to say.  He tells Julia Roberts how a man should propose to a woman, and it is one of the most beautiful speeches you will hear.  He makes mistakes, oh boy does he.  But somehow he cleans them up and still gets the girl.  What exactly is the message of this? And any movie, book, or fantasy of any kind?

Because all this did for me was make me wonder how in the world it is possible to have a guy like that, especially when you are so far from perfection yourself.  It's something to work on, I guess.

<3 Mel