Smelly Breeze
When I think of the Vern (a.k.a Mt.Vernon: my hometown for all you outsiders), two thoughts pop into my head. First, the corn because it engulfs us and we are quasi famous for it. And then Bryaannananannnaa. Bryana is only the greatest friend to ever live in the history of the world. I do not have a single adolescent memory without Bryana Green. She has been there for every significant moment a teenie-bopper could have. (In 7 years of bestfriendship you have many of those.) So you can only imagine my dismay when I found out we’d miss seeing each other at Christmastime only by a few days. Devastating. So we planned to visit one another sometime between now and the end of our frosh year. However, the dates weren’t working out and things were looking grim. I summed it up one night on the phone, “It sucks how things worked out.” (Followed by an obnoxious mirth at my accidental irony.) Tonight while on the phone with Bry, I realized a calendar miscalculation. It turns out I will be leaving for home 2 days earlier than expected. With this insight both Switzer and T Hall’s were earth-quaking as we made like moshpitters jumping up and down in our excitement. After we settled down, we threw the specifics on the table and found Bryana was expected to leave for her Texan Holiday an hour after I arrive home for my Indianan celebration. Both former cheerleaders and advocates for optimism, we decided one hour was better than nothing! We said our cheery goodbyes, hanging up the phone I thought about the gloomy one hour deal we received. Then I recalled all of my Smelly Breeze one hour memories: 1) We peed our pants when we got in a sledding accident. 2) We stole cardboard boxes from the car dealer and bungee corded them to the roof of the Mazda. 3) We left candy bars on our ex-boyfriends cars wishing them a Happy New Year…without us. 4) One Halloween we dressed up like cave-women and helped this old guy grill burgers in front of the supermarket. 5) We karaoked to Faith Hill. 6) We went to BW3’s. 7) We played flashlight tag. 8) We made up dances. 9) We O.D.’ed on Dove Chocolate. And soooooo much more. So we only have an hour…watch out world!Song of the Day: Anything by Brian McKnight, cause he's our yo!
Cute without the...no no just plain CUTE
You know you’re an internet addict when you’ve listened to the entire Launch stream cast. I kicked off the ear-pleasing sequence with Cute Without The ‘E’ (Cut From The Team) by the eminent Taking Back Sunday (if this is the first time you’ve heard of this band, leave my blog NOW….jk!) This WAS my favorite Taking Back Sunday song; however it was replaced by Great Romances due to the loss of the Mazda. The song isn’t the same when you can’t scream at your sunroof about those stupid clever napkins. So it was a nice feeling of nostalgia: hearing Adam Lazarra and his posse scream about some stupid nymphomaniac. As I watched their Fight Club remake I couldn’t help but notice just how extraordinarily attractive Adam appeared in his Brad Pitt getup. Now I’m not the type of girl that puts a bundle of stock into physical appearance, but if you are THAT good looking AND a lyrical deity…I’m sold. So the search was on. I was determined to be the next Mrs. Adam Lazarra (don’t worry friends…flirt to convert ;)). I frantically plugged his name into the mother of all search engines (no really...it’s called that) but to no avail. I wasn’t going to give up that quick, my life’s happiness was at stake here! So I headed to Yahoo! People Search…a.k.a. the world’s stalker net. And it was like hitting 3 cherries in a row at a Vegas slot machine. JACKPOT! So I quickly jotted down his address and phone number. Now, if I calculated correctly he should be home from touring (approximately) on February 3rd, 2005. This means I have 66 days to compose an incredibly nifty letter for Mr. Lazarra. Anyone have any advice? Song of the Day: Set Phasers to Stun by Taking Back Sunday
Waterbottles and Wintergreen Certs
The snow was falling faster than prices at Wal-mart during Christmastime. I sat in front of the picture window in my cubical of a bedroom pretending to read my art history book and watched as a white blanket covered the green shrubbery below. The phone rang, starved for communication with the outside world I answered on the first ring (completely violating my number one rule of phone etiquette). Much to my surprise, it was Helaman-Bri, my favorite co-worker/self-proclaimed boyfriend. He invited me to attend the basketball game with him. I gladly accepted, bundled myself up comfy-cozy and trekked north to the Marriot Center. I met Bri there and took a seat in front of three 40-something guys who were far too into the game for their own health, so much for the “student” section. Anyways…the game went well; both teams were neck in neck the entire game. VERY intense. I won’t complain about the spit the three stooges bestowed upon me when they screamed at the refs for making bad calls, because they were right…the refs were crazy off, I sure hope THEY aren’t judges in Zion. So during one of the many long, long time outs I began to scope the audience for familiar faces. Boy did I find one. Five rows down in a black pea coat and blue shirt was my reflection. (They say everyone has a twin…I didn’t believe this until 3 weeks ago when I found my ex-boyfriend's in Tomassito’s. Seriously…of all people to have a twin.) To make sure I wasn’t going crazy I asked Bri if the girl 5 rows down in the black pea coat and blue shirt looked like anyone he knows. “Oh my gosh…it’s you!!!” (SEE...I’m NOT crazy!) For a moment I thought it quite funny; that didn’t last long. I started to get a little upset…how dare she steal my identity!! There is only ONE Melissa Gerth in this world. So I decided to think of all the ways I’m unique. My list: 1. I’m addicted to Wintergreen Certs and MUST have at least 3 packs a day. 2. I’m in love with both Jesse Lacey and Brian McKnight. 3. No one can grrr like a hairy beast the way I do. 4. I have double jointed elbows…and am proud of it! 5. I bite the bottom ends of water bottles when I get nervous. So sure she has the same profile as me, but she doesn’t have MY top 5…psh what a poser. Today's Song: Pinch Me by Barenaked Ladies
Mmm Mmm Good
Too stuffed to blog tonight, kiddies.
It's like a four day Apocalypse
Desolate, barren, bleak, abandoned, deserted, vacant…T-Hall at the moment. I’m one of only two 5th floor girls “left behind” for the holidays. Sad day, sad day. Now I know why people get so depressed around the Holidays, they just want to get home to their families! I’ll have to wait yet another year for G-Ma’s scrumptulicious Stove Top. In the mean time I get to roam the corridors aimlessly looking for civilization, I swear I get more and more like the Hulk every day. Well…I haven’t inherited his fearless quality yet, that’s for sure. I went to wash my face and I SWEAR I heard the a-a-a-a-a-a inhuman noise coming from the bathtub. I mean DT bathtubs are scary enough as is but when you throw in sound effects from the Grudge...lets just say I didn’t bother to double rinse. So now that I’ve turned my music waaaay up and wrapped two blankets around myself I think it’s safe to try and get some sleep. But I’m so leaving the medusa lamp on tonight…its amber glow is somewhat comforting. Song of the Day: Can’t Touch This by M.C. Hammer
Sub-Blog
I just walked into the bathroom and found Jenny from two doors down reading her Book of Mormon as Chris Carrabba (not Caracrabba Dano!) boomed from her cd player. The bests of both worlds...I heart BYU!
"...and you're tearin' up the photo's cause you want to forget."
I actually wrote this quite awhile ago, but there is a present-day follow up included in the end... So I have this shoebox and it’s filled with all the things I’d like to forget. My question is this: What does one do with such a box. It doesn’t belong in Utahopia, definitely not. However, if I were to ship it back to from whence it came I would have to waste five dollars of my precious college savings on an object that I despise. Another alternative: Burn the sucker. Torch it and watch it go. The flaw here is the law of conservation; although this dreadful piece of Matter (haha did anyone else get that?) would be burnt to stubble it would still exist and take up precious Utahopia space. Also this would cause some effort on my part and pocket (the price of matches is steep these days), not to the mention risk of violating a city ordinance or two. So my final option is to throw the thing on the top shelf in the back of my closet. Very little effort, minimal cost. It IS existing as a flawed object in a perfect place, but a dark, dusty corner of perfection is almost as demeaning as a sunny spot of landfill. There is only one problem with this arrangement (which happens to be the current position of the shoebox). Each and every time my friends and I decide to go tunnel singing in our perfect bubble I run to grab my D.T. issued blanket (think homeless-style) which just so happens to cohabitate with the awful shoebox on the cluttered top shelf of my closet. And every time I hurriedly grab the blanket (as not to be late for my very important date) my hand grazes that brown and gray shoebox. And I remember all the things I want to forget (what can I say; I’m an elephant… when prompted). I stop what I’m doing, sit on my bed and hate the entire male gender. And I contemplate a bonfire or perhaps packaging paper complete with stamps and bubble wrap (wait…no bubble wrap. He’s sooo not worth it) but I only leave with a slightly less than perfect feeling in a perfect place. (And I know that the fact that I took time to write this shows effort, but if the effort is to make you feel bad for making me feel bad then it’s justifiable. P.S. I hate you.)
The follow up: Since... my roommate and I dedicated an eve to the destroying of our shoe boxes (highly liberating). Pieces of glass are embedded in the DT grass five stories down; remnants of the snow globe that "committed suicide." All the scented letters and photographs from years past have moved on to bigger and better things...the dumpster, serving their new purpose as confetti. The book of poems was thrown into the D.I. box...might as well give the less fortunate a chance at French Love. The necklace stayed behind...all that’s left. I threw it in the D.I. box as well but they didn't accept it (I wouldn’t either if I were them). So it remains there...but I've never stopped to notice.
"...wading through all of your bad, bad days just to end them with someone you care about."
I’ve decided that if I ever “fall” in love, it will have to happen in a library.
I imagine it to be something like this: I’ll sit at a walnut veneered desk in the back right corner of the religion section. I’ll reach into my backpack for a napkin as I simultaneously leave page thirty five for page thirty six of Love in the Time of Cholera. In my haste I’ll smear peanut butter across the words a-young-girl-in-love. I’ll half-smile and lay down the PB&J sandwich. Midway through my finger cleaning session I’ll realize that those ridiculous five words on page thirty six are still painted with my food remnants. I’ll panic and work quickly to hide the evidence. What type of hopeless romantic participates in gluttonous gorges as Florentino Ariza bears his soul via violin? I’ll look up from the task at hand only because his voice is warm and calm. “I never made it to the end…does he ever get the girl?” (First words I could easily remember for an eternity.) I’ll smile; a whole smile. He’ll ask to join my recluse section of the contemplation storehouse. With peanut butter fingers, down-at-heel hair and hot, red cheeks I’ll politely accept him and his worn copy of Ethan Frome. (And yes…he gets the girl.)Song of the day: #11
The Unofficial Greeter
He greeted me this morning with a half smile as I scurried into sacrament meeting. Shaking his right hand, he slid the day’s program into my left.
“Welcome. Elementary education?” All in broken English.
I smiled, it was funny that he remembered me by my major. I replied, “That’s right! English as a second language?” With this I got a whole smile and his little Taiwanese head bobbed a happy yes, what satisfaction. I took my seat and thought of how well he was serving in his calling, he made me smile 3 times in 15 seconds, what a greeter! For such a simple calling, he takes it quite serious. Then it occurred to me...he’s a Buddhist.
Thoughts went crazy:
“Are they even allowed to give him a calling?”
“Must be unofficial.”
“It’s really cool he comes to our church and participates. (I mean I couldn’t even get my Methodist boyfriend to take his coat off in a Mormon church.)”
“Will he get in trouble with the Buddhist people when they find out he engages in LDS sacrament meetings?”
“What would his parent’s think?”
“Woah, he’s brave. He’d make a great missionary.”
“Well, he needs to get baptized! Someone should talk to this kid! Someone who can speak a little Taiwan might be bes…”
Then I watch as two on-campus missionaries take a spot in the front next to…Sheng!
“Hmm, well glad to see someone’s trying.”
So, we sing our opening hymn. And my thoughts turn to other things…I have a short attention span.
“Crap, I forgot to paint my toes.”
“Note to self: buy more toe socks.”
“ I bet the Eskimos invented toe socks.”
“How would you decorate an igloo?”
Right as I was entertaining the idea of covering an entire igloo with a 54,204 lickable postage stamps something jumps in my ear and grabs my attention.
“Sheng’s baptism will be after the break, I hope everyone will be able to make it for this momentous occasion.”
I turn to my friend, “Sheng’s getting baptized!?!?!”
“Looks like it.”
“Oh my gosh!! That’s so awesome!!!”
I couldn’t see, tears were welling up.
“Sheng’s getting baptized!!”
My friends probably thought I was nuts (even more than usual guys), but it mattered not. I was so touched. Sheng took a simple step. He decided to come to church and pass out the programs. And as a result I’ll have my English-as-a-second-language-four foot eleven buddy to hang out with in the celestial kingdom…I’m so glad he took off his coat and decided to stay awhile. Song of the day: I Dare You To Move by Switchfoot.
4 a.m.
Wow...I could really use some hardcore pills for my insomnia. I mean for serious, it's four o'clock! The day went by rather slowly. I headed to Physical Science Lab for the last time at 8 a.m. Once there I partook of the most sensational type of cookie ever to exist; the only highlight from my PHYSA110 lab experience. I then ventured to the ever-so-convient Wilkinson Student Center where I ate some cracked wheat as a computer predicted my future. I took a test at the Career Center that dubbed me a loser in the category I am (but shouldn't be) majoring in. So after disovering that I'd make a sucky elementary school teacher I decided to become a communications major. Who would've thought? After making the icy trek home I konked out on my of my daisy cotton sheets. My slumber lasted a strong four hours. I slept well into my last class, Drawing. I staggered into the HFAC only about 45 minutes late. My James-Vanderbeek-look-alike teacher hardly noticed. I got started on my most recent work, my favorite subject, the one, the only: Chris Carrabba. Can't wait to hang THIS one in my room!! After class I retreated back to the DT ghetto for the last time today. I met Mary, Dan, Rachel, and Brett in The Cove. We chatted it up as usual trying our best to maintain normalcy in front of Dan's non-member friend from home. We tried. After an interesting dinner complete with a surprise visit by Abby Johnson, we moved to T-Hall squat-pad for a racy game of Crud. After almost castrating Dan and denting a wall, I came to accept my lack of Crud skills. We called it an evening after a lullying game of Skipbo.
Song of the Day:
Down by Something Corporate
Ok, so...I'll admit it. I've never blogged before.
Last night I had a tussle with my insomniatic (can you believe that's ACTUALLY a word?) self. So at 4 a.m.(still very much wide awake)I made a list.
Things I'm in Love With (in no specific order, ha like I could ever choose!):
1. The greeting card aisle
2. Parking lot hugs
3. Blue Kool-Aid
4. The smell before rain
5. Daisy's
6. Witty away messages
7. The sound made on a guitar as your fingers glide to the next chord.
8. The Testaments
9. My Book of Mormon Class
10.Drawing Chris Carrabba
11.Libraries
12.The Manti Temple
13.Shopping carts
14. Kiwi
15. Mini-mohawks
Hi!
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