Thankful For the Oddities

This being the week of my favorite holiday (sorry Christmas), I thought I would share the list of things for which I am thankful. Obviously I'm thankful for family and friends and all the blah blah blah. But it goes a little deeper than that. I am thankful for the odd things that make up the bigger picture. So here it is: 

Melissa's List of Thanksgiving Thankfuls 

Parents Who Never Told Me I Couldn't Do Something
I don't mean they let me run rampant with no regards to rules and consequences. There were plenty of times when they told me NO. I mean they were parents who let me choose my own path in life. Whether it was basketball or Taekwondo or marching band, they drove me to every practice and sat through every tournament. When I told them I wanted to go to college to study Theatre, they let me (hesitantly). When I told them I was moving to California, they put me on the plane. When I moved back to the Midwest after two months, they welcomed me back without question. When I told them I was looking into PhD programs, they nodded happily. When I told my mom I was writing a novel, she got VERY excited. 
They're supportive parents who want me in whatever I choose to do. No matter how unorthodox my dreams may be.

A Sister Who Actually Likes Me
As the younger sibling I grew up in the shadow of my sister, whether she realized it or not. I can't say that we hated each other growing up, but we certainly didn't always get along. She felt forced to take me places, and I didn't want to be the tag-along. It wasn't until she left for college that we realized we have a lot in common. We don't see each other much, mostly because I don't make much of an effort to go back home (sorry Mom). But she gives me compliments and actually invites me to hang out with her friends. It's a nice thing to have: a sibling you can actually talk to and make fun of your parents with. 

Friends Who Can Dish It Out
Who wants friends who are serious all the time? No one. I'm thankful that I have friends who can, simultaneously, take my concerns seriously and call me out on my bull. My friends are brimming with sarcasm, and that may be the only way I can handle them.

Dress Socks

I know this sounds weird, but hear me out. If your only options are white athletic socks or nothing at all, things can get ugly. Dress socks come in every color and pattern and they are fantastic. Just knowing that I'm wearing argyle, even if you can't see it, makes my day brighter. 

A Job That Allows Me to Sit Down 

Mostly I'm thankful to not having to work retail again this holiday season. While I generally prefer standing over sitting, I like having the option to use a chair.

A Car That Runs

By some miracle it does, even though every service light is shining brightly at me. The heater may not be hot and the tires are leaking air, but I get to my sit-down job everyday. And that's all that really matters.

My Small Group

I really don't know why, but I'm usually a bit reluctant to doing small group things outside the church. But I had gotten away from being the positive church-goer I once was, so I gave it a go. It was supposed to be eight weeks. That was in April. They're good people, and I'm thankful for the Godly friendships that have been created.

A Boyfriend Who Scares Me Whenever I Walk Out of the Bathroom

Seriously, every time I walk out of the bathroom he's waiting around the corner to jump out at me. How I haven't figured this out, I have no idea. He looks at me funny when I use big words, but thinks it's hilarious that my text messages always have spelling errors. He calls me out on my quirks. He's happy for my successes. He's seen me cry. (This is a big deal. I hate crying in front of people.) He definitely falls under the Friends Who Can Dish It Out category. Plus, he's not bad looking. So there's that. Yeah yeah, I'm crossing the line into sappy. Let's move on...

There are about a thousand other things I'm thankful for in some odd way. Flavored coffee creamer, for one. Because I think coffee is too bitter and I don't like that plain, milky taste of half & half.

I'm thankful for my 90-year-old grandpa who still rides a motorcycle. He'll tell you his life story whether you want to hear it or not. And God bless him for still remembering.

I'm thankful for an obnoxiously loud family.

I'm thankful for text messages so I don't have to talk to people on the phone.

I'm thankful nothing in my life has gone the way I planned. This can be a bit frustrating at times. But, honestly, if my life had played out the way I wanted it to, it would be so boring.

P.S I'm well aware that not every country has a Thanksgiving, and that our is shrouded in controversy. But the point is to be thankful for something. Whether that's your McMansion, or a good, unintended pun.

The Redemptive Choices of Jeremy Nash, Part 1

A few months ago I posted a flash fiction on this little blog of mine, and I got some pretty positive feedback. (Mostly from my parents, but that is entirely besides the point.) SOOO, I thought I would give you a taste of something I'm legitimately working on. It's just the beginnings of a longer story, so don't get too excited. We'll see where it goes.

The Redemptive Choices of Jeremy Nash, Part One

  Jeremy knew he should have put the key somewhere he would remember. But, wanting it to be a good hiding spot that no hypothetical intruder would find, he forgot. Now here he was, standing outside in the freezing rain, waiting for his sister to return home. If he had remembered where he hid the key, he would have been inside to answer the phone when the basketball coach, Mister Snyder, called to tell him two of the starters had been suspended for cheating on a test, and to get his butt back to the school immediately and suit up for tonight's game. He would have filled in as starting point guard, and scored thirty points,winning the game and the admiration of his teammates. But Jeremy did not hear the phone ring. He did not return to the school. He did not play in a basketball games as the coach's last resort. Instead, Jeremy sat in his front porch, pitying himself and his horrible memory, when the rain stopped and a rainbow broke through the clouds.
  He couldn't have told you why–– maybe it was his childhood obsession with Lucky Charms or a misplaced urge for adventure–– but Jeremy set off toward the rainbow in search if its end. Rounding the corner of his street he saw Mister Andrews, the neighborhood's very well-known crotchety old man, leaning on his cane while his dog relieved itself on someone else's flowerbed. Spotting Jeremy, he immediately summoned an aura of annoyance.
  "You're wet, young man," he said with disgust. "Positively drenched."
  "Yes," replied Jeremy.
  "Don't yes me," Mister Andrews retorted.
  "Yes... sir?" Jeremy attempted.
  "When I was your age we didn't go around in wet clothing. We made an effort to present ourselves. Where do you think you're going, looking like a drowned sheep?"
  Jeremy shrugged. His eyes had wandered to Mister Andrew's dog, a Boston Terrier named Felix. Felix having finished his business, had begun feasting on the stem of a fallen tulip.
  "Well, boy?" Mister Andrews insisted.
  "I don't know," Jeremy answered. "Just around."
  "Around, hmmph. Only hoodlums and floozies wander around. I should call your mother. Oh, don't think I don't know who you are, Mister Nash," he added at the look on Jeremy's face. "I know exactly who you are. I've seen you running amuck since you were knee-high to a grasshopper."
  Jeremy shook his head in amazement and flipped the hood of his sweatshirt over his head. Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he set off down the street. As he passed the old man, he felt a hard whack on the back of his legs.
  "OUCH!" he yelled. He turned to see Mister Andrews pointing his cane at him like a sword.
  "I'm watching you, boy," he said threateningly.
  Jeremy set off at a faster pace, putting as much distance as he could between himself and Mister Andrews. As he crossed the street he distinctly heard the old man shout "hooligan!" in his direction.

Casting Call

Today I went to the casting call far Star Wars Episode VII. I stood in a line about 1/2 a mile long with two of my friends for five hours. No joke, guys. Actually five ours. Did I think something would come of it?Maybe just a little bit, but not really. Why did I do it? Because I had to. I wasn't forced to, but the child and the nerd and the actor in me told me I couldn't live with myself if I didn't. I mean, it's Star Wars. How could you pass up an opportunity like that?

So we stood in line in the 40 degree weather in the middle of Lincoln Park with hundreds of other twenty somethings. And that was it. Then we went in the building, shook some hads, and left. Day done. 

Why? Why would I do that? Why wouldn't I do that? It was for the experience. To say that I did. Because a little part of me, no matter how many times I walk away from acting and my childhood fantasy of being in the movies, will never really let it go away. So I stood in line all day to shake the casting lady's hand and tell her my name. I can say that I did. 

And now I'm in the car on the way to dinner blogging about it, and isn't that what blogs are all about? (I'm not the one driving. Calm down.)

This is me "walking like a movie star" (they're just like us!).

Flash Fiction

It's National Novel Writing Month. The following is not a novel, although I'm working on it. Instead, I have some flash fiction for you. Let me know what you think. Maybe some day I'll use it for something bigger.

She was running. She had been running for some time. Her vibrant red hair had turned a darker shade with the dirt and sweat and grease. They had probably lost track of her, or at least fallen behind, some time ago, but she was not willing to let up. Adrenaline and fear kept her going.
She was deep in the woods now. Branches scraped her arms and caught in her hair. She stumbled over roots and nearly crashed to the ground more than once. She heard no other noise but her own footsteps, and the trees as she came crashing through the branches.
There was a light up ahead. Looking over her shoulder she saw nothing but darkness behind her. Running towards the light she thought, just keep going.
The light continued to brighten. Soon it was apparent there were two lights: headlights.
The car horn pierced the silence, sending a flock of birds soaring into the midnight sky. She broke through the tree line as the car pulled up to meet her.
"Get in," someone inside the car called.
She didn't hesitate. Wrenching open the door, she jumped in the passenger seat and slammed the door. The car took off before the door was closed.
"What were you thinking?" asked the driver.
She didn't answer. She stared straight ahead and let the heater warm her.
What was she thinking?

A Letter to Employers

I may start sending out with my resume. Forget the professional air. I'm going for straight-forward. Maybe it will at least make some employers curious.

Dear Sir or Madam,

My name is Melissa Miller, and I am interested in a position with your company.

My resume is not impressive. I will be the first to admit that. I did not spend my college summers at internships. Instead, I worked. I worked in childcare, food service, and recreation. For the last two years I have worked as a bookseller at Barnes & Noble. While this may seem like a low-level job anyone could be trained to do, I have learned a great deal about the publishing industry; valuable information that I can apply to my pursuit in the publishing world.

I do not have the 3-5 years of experience you are looking for. I do not have a master’s degree because I cannot afford it at this time. That is not to say I have not been working hard since graduating. While I have not spent much time in an office, honing my skills at a computer, I have done a few other things:

•         I travelled with a theatre company.
•         I learned to live and function on a very tight budget.
•         I have read reference manuals and etymology books. (AP, MLA, Chicago Style. You name it; I've gone through them all.) 

I know these will not make it onto a list of my accomplishments, but they say more about me than my resume. My professional work experience is minimal, but my drive to get a job done is exceptional. You will probably skim through this and be tempted to put it at the top of the NO pile. But please don’t. If you hire me I will not disappoint.

Sincerely,

Melissa Miller

Reading Time!

Read any of these books? Because they're part of this year's summer reading list.

I have a thing for Nordic/Scandinavian authors. Last summer I read Tor Ulven's Replacement, and recently The Faster I Walk the Smaller I Am by Kjersti Skomsvold. Both phenomenal. 

And what is this? New Neil Gaiman? Yes it is. The Ocean at the End of the Lane comes out next week, and I will put a stop to all activity while I read it. 

Happy reading!

This is a Post About Voting (It is Also a Rant)

A few months ago I was told if someone is an Independent, they are just dumb and can't make decisions. While I do my best to keep my opinions to myself and stay out of politics, I couldn't help but remark on this statement. How can this be true? How can an Independent be unable to make decisions for him/herself? The whole idea of an Independent is that they are not tied down to one party, but they make their own decisions on issues, independent of partisanship.

I won't tell you who I voted for (because that's not for you to know), but I will admit that I am an Independent. ::Uproar:: ::Spit-takes:: ::How could you say that!?:: It's true, and I'll tell you why: because I like looking at all sides of an issue before making a decision. I don't like Republicans. I also don't like Democrats. Why? Because they are too tied to their party. I like to be informed about both sides of a story, and I don't (or rarely) see that with declared party supporters. Let me say right now, that this isn't everyone. I know some very civil, openminded left- and right-wingers. But, I see a lot more people turned off to the idea of other people's beliefs and ideals simply because of party lines.  

Don't call me dumb because of my bi-partisanship. Don't tell me I can't make decisions because I don't want to just pick a side. If the presidency is so important, then I want to know what each candidate has to say. I want to know who they are, not what their party is. I want to be completely informed, not about one side, but about all sides.

I know, this is America. We all have our opinions, and you are probably forming yours about me as you read this. But this is my blog, and this is how I feel. If you are a hardcore supporter of one party, fine. Do whatever you want (like I said, this is America). Just don't tell me that I'm lower than you because I choose not to pick red or blue. Purple is a very pretty color.

That is all. I'm done. Go America.