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Melanierin wrote about the word teacher 2 years ago
My favorite teacher is the music teacher at my elementary school. She was always really involved and had a great time with everyone. I still go back, 5 years later, to student direct the musicals she puts on. And wow, are they amazing! So much more than what you would expect from a bunch of [...]
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Melanierin wrote about the word forgetting 2 years ago
Marisa kept forgetting that she had pledged to forever be mean to Katy. It was hard not to smile at her in the hallway as she passed, or to send her a quick IM when she was online. It was hard to change your habits with someone who used to be your best friend.
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Melanierin wrote about the word painted 2 years ago
I painted a set for a show at a middle school I student directed. It was little booths for a open air market and they had white borders with pastel interiors. I was terrible at painting and someone else had to go back and fix up my lines.
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Melanie wrote about the word plaid 2 years ago
Annie – the play. I just got home from student directing it.
We have a family plaid. The MacKenzie pattern. It’s red, blue, and has lots of crossovers.
Scotland. -
Melanie posted an update: 2 years ago
I love thunderstorms. I love the powerful, booming rolls of thunder that seem to vibrate from the sky as a warning. I love the trees, dancing an emotional ballet that makes me wonder if their roots are as firmly planted as I used to think. I love the rain, shooting down like bullets from the cumulonimbus clouds, and I love that I still remember what they are called and how to identify them from fifth grade science class. I love when the rain is pounding the ground so hard it feels as if my entire body has fallen asleep like when I prop my book against my leg for too long, engrossed in the plot, even though I’ve read it four times before. I love when it rains so hard that the entire cross country team squeezes into the 10 man locker room because there was lightning, and that we venture out into the storm holding hands, sprinting towards our parent’s cars faster that we ever have in a race, barely being able to see the yellow parking spot outlines on the asphalt beneath us because the rain is so thick it feels as if we are at the community pool doing cannonballs. I love the moment when the storm is over, and the whole street is calm. No one has yet ventured out to see if they lost a tree branch, whether they left their car windows open, or how wet their outdoor seat cushions are. Other than the gleaming black streets and the water droplets clinging to the windows, it’s hard to believe it was so violent so recently.
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Melanie wrote about the word chalkboard 2 years ago
No one uses chalkboards anymore. Only Smartboards…which never work. When I was in 6th grade, I wrote my friend’s middle name (Emily) on the chalkboard and I don’t think she ever forgave me because she hates it so much. I hate the powder that comes off the chalkboard and sticks to your clothes when you [...]
Melanierin @melanierin ?
active 2 years ago
I love thunderstorms. I love the powerful, booming rolls of thunder that seem to vibrate from the sky as a warning. I love the trees, dancing an emotional ballet that makes me wonder if their roots are as firmly planted as I used to think. I love the rain, shooting down like bullets from the cumulonimbus clouds, and I love that I still remember what they are called and how to identify them from fifth grade science class. I love when the rain is pounding the ground so hard it feels as if my entire body has fallen asleep like when I prop my book against my leg for too long, engrossed in the plot, even though I’ve read it four times before. I love when it rains so hard that the entire cross country team squeezes into the 10 man locker room because there was lightning, and that we venture out into the storm holding hands, sprinting towards our parent’s cars faster that we ever have in a race, barely being able to see the yellow parking spot outlines on the asphalt beneath us because the rain is so thick it feels as if we are at the community pool doing cannonballs. I love the moment when the storm is over, and the whole street is calm. No one has yet ventured out to see if they lost a tree branch, whether they left their car windows open, or how wet their outdoor seat cushions are. Other than the gleaming black streets and the water droplets clinging to the windows, it’s hard to believe it was so violent so recently. View
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