Have you ever wondered if the perfect pair of bright blue, pointy-toed flats have the potential to change your Friday into one of superiority, rather than "pretty good?"

The answer: an absolute, total, undeniable yes.

I was going to say that I'm so tired I could puke. But I don't think I have any energy to puke.

Jen helped me get out of bed this morning at 5:35. I was at the office by 6:40, after trying to get in the door about 15 times and then realizing that there's a new code and my key is therefore useless. So I stood there in the wicked cold, shivering, holding all of my notes and my coffee, after which I ran to the back of the building and just managed to get the door open when some kind individual that works on the first floor came in.

Then I tripped up the stairs because I was running to my office, which means coffee all over my hand and my sweater.

Then I got to my office and wrote a eulogy. Talk about death in the morning. bahaha.

But it looks like hell week has started the downward climb, and thank God.

There are just those weeks, you know? Wednesday's are more like my Fridays. My weeks go Wednesday-Wednesday. Having the weekend in there kinda throws me off, though.

Manchester Orchestra.

Brand New.

Concert.

Tomorrow.

This is me freaking out with excitement.

I haven't been to a solid rock concert since... probably my last time seeing Manchester. ha.

I have a lot to do.

Melissa got into the accelerated nursing program which begins in June. It's about time someone gives that girl something she deserves. A nursing degree in a year and a half? Smartie. :)

I wish I could just quit everything and go back to school and have my master's in a year. ::sigh::

Or maybe I should still pursue law school. There's certainly a war in my brain about all this. I sat in my room and thought about it for around two hours last night... It's not exactly something that comes to you in two hours. But gees.

http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=124615798&ft=1&f=1039

listen.

melissa's Matthew 6

STOLEN from my sister. She's what I hope to be in wisdom, someday...

whelmed. and my matthew6.

11 March, 2010 by melissabeth

therefore, i tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink,

or about whether or not you’ll get into nursing school,

or about defending your thesis,

or about which house you’ll be living in next year,

or about jobs after you graduate,

or about whether or not you’ll be going to africa again any time soon,

or when wondering about future husbands or lack thereof,

for the pagans run after all these things, and your Heavenly Father knows that you need them. but seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. each day has enough trouble of its own.

1. on 12 March, 2010 at 12:16 pm | Replymo-ren

   therefore, i tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink,

   or about whether or not you’ll get into the master’s program,

   or about getting a decent grade on your GRE,

   or about which house you’ll be living in next year,

   or where you’ll be living in 3 years,

   or about how you’re going to pay for all this stuff,

   or about a potential boy that you want to love but don’t know if you can,

   for the pagans run after all these things, and your Heavenly Father knows that you need them. but seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. each day has enough trouble of its own.

   
   

The Sea

I would like to go away.

And not to a friend's wedding. Not to a work conference.

I want to go to Canon Beach. Wear some wind/ water resistant jackets. Sit on the beach for hours in the blistering cold and listen to the waves. I think it's the closest thing to God's voice that I've ever heard.

My name does mean Ocean, after all.

Last night I talked to four other girls about how much happens in four months.

It's amazing how much happens in 24 hours. Holy freaking crap.

How the Day Sounds

I almost bought Greg Laswell's Vinyl LP this morning. It's expensive.

I'm growing moderately obsessed with vinyl. You should see my room.

The week is falling apart. My writers are having all of these emergencies/ needing to go out of town/ taking trips. Which leaves me... in newspaper confusion-land and a state of severe desperation. I love this job. But not that part of the job.

Only one boy that I went out with a few times, a very long time ago, ever complimented my work and said that he respected and appreciated it. My first boyfriend didn't even care that much. Is my job intimidating, thereby making me intimidating? Is it that I'm with the big, bad media? That I make enough money to support myself and enough to shop at Banana Republic (the sale rack, naturally)? Is it bad that I had a bachelor's by 22 and I'm in the process of a Master's? Is that scary? Scary that education is a major priority and I want to do more?

I don't get it.

It makes me sad.

Holy wow.

I have blogged an obscene amount of times this week.

My Thursday routine:

Set the alarm for 6 a.m.

Get up at about 6:45 after pushing the snooze button about 20 times.

Get dressed. Yes, it does usually look like I got dressed in the dark.

Brush my teeth. Sometimes.

Go to Starbucks. Talk to the baristas that I know.

Speed to work.

Work. Or blog.

Today's choice is obviously blogging. CRAP. Need to call a writer. brb.

Okay, I'm back. He didn't respond. This isn't good.

- - -

Tomorrow is Jen's birthday. I'm trying to find people to go to Sushi and then come back to my house for drinks. If you've never had one of my mixed drinks, let's just say your life is incomplete.

- - -

This blog post is wickedly disjointed.

- - -

I need to color my hair. Back to the red-brunette. Dang I love my hair color. Alas, I do not have the $50 to do that at present. Bleck. Good thing I'm tall. Most of my sentences are fragments. I apologize.

- - -

I would like to take a trip.

- - -

So I've noticed that most alternative Christian girl bands are abysmal. The station here in town mostly plays guys/ guy bands. The girls are just awful. Let's get some Paramore. Or the voice from the Yeah Yeah Yeah's. Please. And the chick lyrics are terrible. I'm stereotyping. But seriously? It's as though all they play is Britt Nicole. UGGGGGHHHHHHHH. Maybe it's the radio station. I'll stick to my other rock bands for now, thank you.

- - -

I'm going to get Lasik in my right eye (once I find a grand). I can't see a freaking thing. Driving is not so fun.

- - -

Something I find hilarious: Once it gets into the 40's here, the residents of COS basically throw a party and start wearing short sleeves. At least that's what I do...

- - -

I want to go swing dancing. I want to go blues dancing. And I want to sing backup harmonies for a band.

- - -

That's all.

Just spoke with my bestie, Beth, for about two hours.

I love what she said about life, summed up in a few words... that life is difficult, but not bad. not impossible.

for despite the circumstances of broken hearts, strings of questions, uncertainties and frustration, there's one constant that keeps us going. so things are difficult, but not impossible.

I'm terrible, terrible with exact phrasings and references, but there's a verse in Psalms where David says (something to the extent of), "I am confident that I will see the Lord's goodness while I am here in the land of the living." And that is not a hope of a future in heaven. That is a hope of life.

I love you, Beth. My heart is homesick for yours.

8

Eight years with a perfect driving record.

And a speeding ticket today. DAMMMMMMMMMMMIIIIIIIITTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT.

starting this week with MGMT. okay. let's do this.