Blood, Cockroaches, Edward Cullen, and Spaghetti

Last night I celebrated my parents' birthdays at my grandparents house. My cousins and I were skipping between Pride & Predjudice and the Winter Olympics in Vancouver. We were cheering for the USA (because it's the greatest), Italy (because they like spaghetti), Finland (because it's my favorite place in the world), Ireland (because they drink beer, have red hair, and like leprachauns, or so I've heard), Poland (I really don't know why), and France. Actually, I was the only one cheering for France. For some reason, everyone I know dislikes the French, while I think they are simply amazing, like Edward Cullen or something equally as dreamy and mystifying.
During the speed-skating event, my cousin started screaming over a dead cockroach behind her chair, so we all turned to look and comment on how demonic-looking his squished little head was.
When I turned back to the TV, I saw a large, dark pool of blood against the ice, and in it sat a man in a blue suit. My own dear country's man had gone down. His skate blade cut the artery in his thigh and he was being lifted onto a cot.
There, right in front of me.
It didn't seem real.
Life is like that, I think. Things seem to be going so slowly sometimes. All you do is look away and forget about what's happening right in front of you. You focus on a diversion and ignore what's really important. There was a guy being ripped open and I was staring at a dead cockroach. When the diversion is gone and you look back to what's important, you always miss something. Something big happened but you let it pass by because you were too caught up with other, minor things.
Anyway, I hope someone gives that team USA athlete a box of chocolate.
Happy Valentines Day.

Your Sister in Christ,


Snow is God being Awesome

White, powdery flakes of heaven falling from the sky, the dreams and smiles of angels. History is made as snow falls heavy in 49 states, a feat never before accomplished. I think God is happy.

It's snowing in Texas. Two contradictions is too much for one person. There is never actual, full-bragging right worthy, perfect snow in Texas. Never. We're breaking records, baby. One freaking foot of snow. It's awesome. - Melissa


Another day wasted...

I spent all of yesterday sitting on my sister's dresser in front of the radio while [trying, and failing] to do school, all in the hopes of being that glorious caller #9 and winning the contest and going to dinner with the one and only tobyMAC, of whom I have his entire discography and dream about meeting him (and Taylor Lautner -- either one would do, for different reasons of course). But alas, my efforts were in vain and I have absolutely nothing of interest to report to you. There was a chance for a question and answer session with Toby, which of course would have been posted on my blog right away so the whole world would see what great friends we are.
But no.
Apparently we are not good friends at all.
So if you are one of the lucky caller #9s who stole my rightful position as dinner guest of tobyMAC, I have nothing further to say to you. (Except that if you get his number, could you give it to me? It's only fair.)
And tobyMAC, if you're reading this (which you're probably not, why should I even hope?), all I can say is that I tried.

God Bless,