I searched my dreams last night for Dream Boy, just to reassure myself that message from yesterday wasn't for real.
I started at my Appleton Family Circus dream, but this time it was night in the orchard and all the visitors had gone home. Mr. Appleton was counting the money from that day's admissions. Jay was sweeping up peanut shells and bags of GlomPop brand popcorn. And Mrs. Appleton was touching up the paint on a huge poster that read, "LIVE ON STAGE, SEE THE GIANT GIRL-MONSTER!"
"Hey!" I shouted. "Has anyone seen Dream Boy?"
They all looked blankly at me for a moment before going back to their circus chores.
"You couldn't miss him. He's twenty feet tall and I think we're kind of in love or something."
The Appletons acted like they couldn't hear me so I ran away to search in a town I saw way in the distance. Except it wasn't as far in the distance as I thought--it was the town from my Tiny Town dream!!! I was taller than all the buildings there except the giant-sized high school, which had been rebuilt to my size.
It was also night in Tiny Town and the streets were abandoned--except for Miss Freckles. She sat on a pile of broken buildings she'd made into a throne. She tossed a car up and down into the air with one hand like she was bored.
"Where is he?" I asked her.
"Your Dream Boy?" she asked. "He's not real. You made him up."
"No, I remember now. You called him a freak, just like me. Why would you say that to him if he was just another part of my imagination?"
Miss Freckles shrugged. "It doesn't matter. They won't let him talk to you anymore."
"They?"
Her eyes focused on my chest, or maybe on the AthletiGlom logo on my T-shirt. "Stay away from them, Melly. They'll ruin your life, just like they ruined mine. Well, actually you ruined my life, but I'm not supposed to blame you so I'll blame them instead."
"Who are you?" I asked.
"Just another part of your imagination," she said. Then she faded away and the dream ended.
Weeeeeeeeeeeird!!!
Friday, August 1, 2008
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Har-Har-Har, Very Funny
Thanks to some helpful comments I've come to realize that I'm not losing my mind after all. That vanishing message from Dream Boy must have been written by some practical joker with a mile-wide mean streak.
I'd blame Jay Appleton except he's not smart enough for something like this and besides, he's been far too busy thinking up new "chores" for me to do this week... So I don't know who's behind the disapearing ink yet, but they'll be in big trouble when I find them!!!
Anyway, I'm going to sleep well tonight and see Dream Boy in my dreams and give him a big kiss and tell him not to leave me no matter what that stupid note said!!!
I'd blame Jay Appleton except he's not smart enough for something like this and besides, he's been far too busy thinking up new "chores" for me to do this week... So I don't know who's behind the disapearing ink yet, but they'll be in big trouble when I find them!!!
Anyway, I'm going to sleep well tonight and see Dream Boy in my dreams and give him a big kiss and tell him not to leave me no matter what that stupid note said!!!
Messages
The strangest thing just happened. I was moving all those GlomCorp boxes around my shed when a little envelope dropped out. Inside was a letter addressed to me.
That's not the weird part. That was just me not finding the letter until today. The weird part was when I held Mr. Riggs's letter up to the light and a bunch of handwritten words appeared on an empty part of the paper.
By the time I finished reading them, the words were already fading away. Now I can't see them at all no matter how I hold the paper. Did I imagine them? It must be my mind playing tricks on me, right?
Dear Melinda,
Please accept these custom-sized items with the compliments of GlomCorp. They are the best the factory here could produce on such short notice. If the sponsorship department decides to offer you a contract, a greater variety will be available to suit your color and style preferences.
Sincerely yours,
L. Stewart Riggs, III
Executive Vice President of Corporate Sponsorship
That's not the weird part. That was just me not finding the letter until today. The weird part was when I held Mr. Riggs's letter up to the light and a bunch of handwritten words appeared on an empty part of the paper.
My queen: I hope these poor garments will suffice for now. I told you I would provide, and so I have. Our dreams will have to be separate for a while, but I look forward to someday meeting you in person.
Much love, your Dream Boy.
By the time I finished reading them, the words were already fading away. Now I can't see them at all no matter how I hold the paper. Did I imagine them? It must be my mind playing tricks on me, right?
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
It's All in the Jeans
I met Mrs. Lee today--my first school board member, other than Dr. Crisp. Doc was here with me when Mrs. Lee arrived, so at least I didn't have to talk to her alone. I used the advice LadyNerd left on my blog last week and imagined that Mrs. Lee was a skittish cow that might be easily spooked by a stranger like me. I smiled, then remembered not to smile too wide, and then I lost control of my mouth entirely and blurted out, "Hello, Mrs. Lee. It's a pleasure to milk you--I mean, to meet you!" So much for imagining her as a cow!!!
Mrs. Lee looked me up and down and sniffed with disdain. "Those aren't this season's DenimGlom jeans. I ought to know because I buy a new set every spring and fall, one of each item in the line, and those don't resemble anything currently in my closet." I mean, really! I'm taller than a giraffe and what she cares about most are whether my jeans are in style or not?
"Actually, the packing slip said they're next season's jeans," I told her.
Mrs. Lee raised her eyebrows a bit and turned to Dr. Crisp. "Julian? You're her physician too, right?"
"I am," said Doc.
"So, just how contagious is she?"
"Excuse me?" he asked.
"Is there a chance of Miss Mills infecting the other children? Some of them are menace enough at ordinary sizes, but if they were to catch her disease--"
"I'm not diseased, I'm just really tall!!!" I stomped my foot to prove my point, hard enough to shake the ground.
Dr. Crisp cleared his throat to cover a little hand gesture, which was probably meant as a signal for me to chill. "My best conjecture is that Melly suffers from a genetic abnormality. Her height isn't contagious at all, any more than my blue eyes or your high cheekbones, Brenda."
That was interesting. I kinda figured my extreme tallness wasn't spread by extreme tallness germs, but I never thought about it from the viewpoint of genetics. Ma and Pa weren't any taller than normal, so I must have some kind of mutation, according to the biology lessons I've read for Dr. Crisp. Except...aren't mutations usually minor things like webbed feet or a peanut allergy? Then again, there was that girl in India who was born with extra arms and legs, and that's got to be at least as strange as being seventeen feet and eleven-plus inches tall.
The rest of my interview with Mrs. Lee went pretty well, once she'd been satisfied that I wasn't hosting some giant flu virus that would turn her town into a hangout for super-sized juvenile delinquents. 'Tho many of her questions had to do with GlomCorp, and whether I might have any inside contacts who could get her a peek at the upcoming line of GlomBag brand handbags.
I'd blog more about Mrs. Lee but I have to go make Jay a sandwich now and then do his laundry. Oh, I never should have made that bet!!!
Mrs. Lee looked me up and down and sniffed with disdain. "Those aren't this season's DenimGlom jeans. I ought to know because I buy a new set every spring and fall, one of each item in the line, and those don't resemble anything currently in my closet." I mean, really! I'm taller than a giraffe and what she cares about most are whether my jeans are in style or not?
"Actually, the packing slip said they're next season's jeans," I told her.
Mrs. Lee raised her eyebrows a bit and turned to Dr. Crisp. "Julian? You're her physician too, right?"
"I am," said Doc.
"So, just how contagious is she?"
"Excuse me?" he asked.
"Is there a chance of Miss Mills infecting the other children? Some of them are menace enough at ordinary sizes, but if they were to catch her disease--"
"I'm not diseased, I'm just really tall!!!" I stomped my foot to prove my point, hard enough to shake the ground.
Dr. Crisp cleared his throat to cover a little hand gesture, which was probably meant as a signal for me to chill. "My best conjecture is that Melly suffers from a genetic abnormality. Her height isn't contagious at all, any more than my blue eyes or your high cheekbones, Brenda."
That was interesting. I kinda figured my extreme tallness wasn't spread by extreme tallness germs, but I never thought about it from the viewpoint of genetics. Ma and Pa weren't any taller than normal, so I must have some kind of mutation, according to the biology lessons I've read for Dr. Crisp. Except...aren't mutations usually minor things like webbed feet or a peanut allergy? Then again, there was that girl in India who was born with extra arms and legs, and that's got to be at least as strange as being seventeen feet and eleven-plus inches tall.
The rest of my interview with Mrs. Lee went pretty well, once she'd been satisfied that I wasn't hosting some giant flu virus that would turn her town into a hangout for super-sized juvenile delinquents. 'Tho many of her questions had to do with GlomCorp, and whether I might have any inside contacts who could get her a peek at the upcoming line of GlomBag brand handbags.
I'd blog more about Mrs. Lee but I have to go make Jay a sandwich now and then do his laundry. Oh, I never should have made that bet!!!
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
One-on-One
Okay, so remember what a good mood I was in earlier today? Well, my mood got even better when Jay Appleton showed up at my basketball hoop in gym shorts and a black Adidas shirt.
"Mom says I have to get out of the house and play some basketball," he said miserably, with his shoulders slouched and his mouth all droopy, like shooting hoops was the most horrible torture in the world. I knew I had to cheer him up, so I charged at him with the ball.
"Jay, try to stop me!!!" I dribbled right up to him, which was funny cuz my new AthletiGlom socks were pulled up high enough to be level with his chest. It looked like he was just playing against my shoes while the rest of me hung out and watched.
"Not funny, Melly." Jay tried to step out of my way but I moved my leg and he ran right into it.
I kept moving my legs and stomping one foot or the other down anywhere Jay wanted to go. "Come on, we'll play for chores. If you can stop me from scoring, I'll do all your chores for a week!!!"
"And what do I have to do if I can't stop you?"
"Just the stuff I normally do--milk my cows, wash them in the creek on Tuesday, put them out to pasture, scrub their barn, and clean out my shed from top to bottom!!!" I nudged him toward the basket with my shoes, into the range where I could make an easy shot. "Really, Jay, it's like you're not even trying to stop me."
"What am I supposed to do, Melly? You weigh a ton!"
Closer to two tons, actually, but I wasn't going to tell him that. He made a half-hearted attempt to push against my leg, so I brought my other leg in and trapped him between my calves--not hard enough to hurt him, 'tho you'd never know it from all the whining he was doing. He squirmed a bit but he wasn't going anywhere.
I hopped the last ten feet to the basket--three little hops, taking Jay with me. The basket was level with my hip and I was close enough to reach out and hold the ball directly over it. "Come on, Jay. If you can't stop me from scoring, you'll be tending my cows from morning 'til night. But you can't even move, can you? And I'm sooooo close to dropping the ball through the net. So what are you going to do now, smart boy? Huh? What are you going to do?"
And that's when he bit me on the knee. The ball dropped from my hand, hit the rim, and bounced out.
So I'm not in such a good mood anymore. I guess it serves me right for teasing him like that, but I'm not looking forward to doing Jay's chores for a week as well as all my own!!!
"Mom says I have to get out of the house and play some basketball," he said miserably, with his shoulders slouched and his mouth all droopy, like shooting hoops was the most horrible torture in the world. I knew I had to cheer him up, so I charged at him with the ball.
"Jay, try to stop me!!!" I dribbled right up to him, which was funny cuz my new AthletiGlom socks were pulled up high enough to be level with his chest. It looked like he was just playing against my shoes while the rest of me hung out and watched.
"Not funny, Melly." Jay tried to step out of my way but I moved my leg and he ran right into it.
I kept moving my legs and stomping one foot or the other down anywhere Jay wanted to go. "Come on, we'll play for chores. If you can stop me from scoring, I'll do all your chores for a week!!!"
"And what do I have to do if I can't stop you?"
"Just the stuff I normally do--milk my cows, wash them in the creek on Tuesday, put them out to pasture, scrub their barn, and clean out my shed from top to bottom!!!" I nudged him toward the basket with my shoes, into the range where I could make an easy shot. "Really, Jay, it's like you're not even trying to stop me."
"What am I supposed to do, Melly? You weigh a ton!"
Closer to two tons, actually, but I wasn't going to tell him that. He made a half-hearted attempt to push against my leg, so I brought my other leg in and trapped him between my calves--not hard enough to hurt him, 'tho you'd never know it from all the whining he was doing. He squirmed a bit but he wasn't going anywhere.
I hopped the last ten feet to the basket--three little hops, taking Jay with me. The basket was level with my hip and I was close enough to reach out and hold the ball directly over it. "Come on, Jay. If you can't stop me from scoring, you'll be tending my cows from morning 'til night. But you can't even move, can you? And I'm sooooo close to dropping the ball through the net. So what are you going to do now, smart boy? Huh? What are you going to do?"
And that's when he bit me on the knee. The ball dropped from my hand, hit the rim, and bounced out.
So I'm not in such a good mood anymore. I guess it serves me right for teasing him like that, but I'm not looking forward to doing Jay's chores for a week as well as all my own!!!
I Am a Billboard
I did my best impression of a walking billboard this morning, after I got back from washing my cows--AthletiGlom shirt, AthletiGlom shorts, AthletiGlom sneakers, and even a pair of socks with the AthletiGlom starburst logo on them. Under the shirt I wore an UnderGlom brand sports-bra and I honestly don't know how I got by without one of these for so long. Now I can move around and everything stays where it should!!!
Now that I've got these new sneakers, my hook-shot's improved overnight and I'm unstoppable from half-court. Bam-bam-bam!!! My new record is six in a row and I feel like I could do even better!!!
I challenged Dr. Crisp to a game of HORSE and played HORSE with a vengeance!!! Bam-bam-bam!!! I even made one shot with my eyes closed!!!
"You're in a good mood," said Doc, as he made a nice shot of his own--'tho from much closer cuz that's my handicap.
"I'm in a great mood," I said, and of course I was. Have you ever seen an unhappy billboard?
Now that I've got these new sneakers, my hook-shot's improved overnight and I'm unstoppable from half-court. Bam-bam-bam!!! My new record is six in a row and I feel like I could do even better!!!
I challenged Dr. Crisp to a game of HORSE and played HORSE with a vengeance!!! Bam-bam-bam!!! I even made one shot with my eyes closed!!!
"You're in a good mood," said Doc, as he made a nice shot of his own--'tho from much closer cuz that's my handicap.
"I'm in a great mood," I said, and of course I was. Have you ever seen an unhappy billboard?
Monday, July 28, 2008
Corporate America to the Rescue!
There were some great guesses about what was in that big wooden crate I got on Friday. It wasn't a gift from Dr. Crisp or Mrs. Johansson. It wasn't a robot. It wasn't a shrinking machine that would make me the same size as everyone else--and it also wasn't a growing machine that would make everyone else the same size as me.
So are you ready to find out what it was? Okay, I won't make you wait any longer. I pried the lid open and...inside the box...was...
was...
was...
...a bunch of smaller boxes???
Yeah, I was surprised too. Personally I was expecting a pony, but wait--it gets better!!!
Inside the biggest box I found a bunch of athletic clothes--sweatshirts, sweatpants, T-shirts, and sweatbands in a half-dozen colors. And the most wonderful, most impossible thing was that all the clothes were enormous, like tents of jersey material shaped into shirts and pants, and so they fit me perfectly!!! According to the packing slip, it was a custom order from AthletiGlom, which is a division of GlomWear, which is a wholly-owned subsidiary of GlomCorp.
The next box had three pairs of jeans from DenimGlom, another division of GlomWear, the wholly-owned subsidiary of GlomCorp. The jeans had copper rivets the size of quarters and instantly I recognized the D.G. logo on the butt from Mrs. Appleton's fashion magazines. These are the kind of jeans supermodels wear!!! They're super expensive, even in normal sizes!!!
Other boxes had UnderGlom brand undergarments, FootGlom brand sandals, a WinterGlom brand coat, and the greatest gift of all, a pair of high-top AthletiGlom sneakers that make my feet feel like rockets!!!
Mr. Appleton said he's been talking to the people at GlomCorp for a couple weeks about giving me a corporate sponsorship, so all my clothes and stuff would be free like this. Mrs. Appleton is hopping mad at him for going behind her back, and cuz she's sure nothing corporate is ever really free. Actually, what she said was, "Just look at Melly in that shirt. She looks like a walking billboard!"
Mrs. Appleton wants me to send everything back to GlomCorp, but I don't mind being a walking billboard, and it's not like Mrs. Johansson is going to find me anything better to wear. 'Sides, nobody is going to make me give up my amazing new basketball sneakers!!!
So are you ready to find out what it was? Okay, I won't make you wait any longer. I pried the lid open and...inside the box...was...
was...
was...
...a bunch of smaller boxes???
Yeah, I was surprised too. Personally I was expecting a pony, but wait--it gets better!!!
Inside the biggest box I found a bunch of athletic clothes--sweatshirts, sweatpants, T-shirts, and sweatbands in a half-dozen colors. And the most wonderful, most impossible thing was that all the clothes were enormous, like tents of jersey material shaped into shirts and pants, and so they fit me perfectly!!! According to the packing slip, it was a custom order from AthletiGlom, which is a division of GlomWear, which is a wholly-owned subsidiary of GlomCorp.
The next box had three pairs of jeans from DenimGlom, another division of GlomWear, the wholly-owned subsidiary of GlomCorp. The jeans had copper rivets the size of quarters and instantly I recognized the D.G. logo on the butt from Mrs. Appleton's fashion magazines. These are the kind of jeans supermodels wear!!! They're super expensive, even in normal sizes!!!
Other boxes had UnderGlom brand undergarments, FootGlom brand sandals, a WinterGlom brand coat, and the greatest gift of all, a pair of high-top AthletiGlom sneakers that make my feet feel like rockets!!!
Mr. Appleton said he's been talking to the people at GlomCorp for a couple weeks about giving me a corporate sponsorship, so all my clothes and stuff would be free like this. Mrs. Appleton is hopping mad at him for going behind her back, and cuz she's sure nothing corporate is ever really free. Actually, what she said was, "Just look at Melly in that shirt. She looks like a walking billboard!"
Mrs. Appleton wants me to send everything back to GlomCorp, but I don't mind being a walking billboard, and it's not like Mrs. Johansson is going to find me anything better to wear. 'Sides, nobody is going to make me give up my amazing new basketball sneakers!!!
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Illustrator Challenge
Artists can create illustrations of me or the events in my life, as long as they are appropriate for my young readers. Any previous post on this blog can be illustrated. If I like an image that goes well with a post on the blog, I may add a small thumbnail version along with credit to the artist and a link to the full-sized image. Images of me posted elsewhere should link back to the "Giant Girl Rampages" blog.
If you want to draw a picture of me, here's what you need to know:
I'm 15 years old and almost (but not quite) 18 feet tall. Mrs. Appleton says I'm very pretty and well proportioned, which I guess is a complement. I'm not super thin or anything but I think I'm in pretty good shape.
I have dirty blonde hair that's kind of wild because I trim it with Pa's old hedge trimmers. My eyes are green as the ocean, as Ma always said, but I wouldn't know because I've never seen an ocean. My skin is tanned from being out in the sun a lot but not too dark and (usually) not burned.
I wear a blouse and skirt-shorts that my mother quilted for me three years ago. They look like a big patchwork cuz she used many squares of fabric and cowhide. I've grown since then, so the skirt-shorts no longer come down to my knees, my blouse is way tight, and there's a bit of skin showing in between. I don't have any shoes (and that makes me sad to think about so I usually don't).
If you do draw my picture, send the link in a comment so I can post it to my blog. Thanks!!!
If you want to draw a picture of me, here's what you need to know:
I'm 15 years old and almost (but not quite) 18 feet tall. Mrs. Appleton says I'm very pretty and well proportioned, which I guess is a complement. I'm not super thin or anything but I think I'm in pretty good shape.
I have dirty blonde hair that's kind of wild because I trim it with Pa's old hedge trimmers. My eyes are green as the ocean, as Ma always said, but I wouldn't know because I've never seen an ocean. My skin is tanned from being out in the sun a lot but not too dark and (usually) not burned.
I wear a blouse and skirt-shorts that my mother quilted for me three years ago. They look like a big patchwork cuz she used many squares of fabric and cowhide. I've grown since then, so the skirt-shorts no longer come down to my knees, my blouse is way tight, and there's a bit of skin showing in between. I don't have any shoes (and that makes me sad to think about so I usually don't).
If you do draw my picture, send the link in a comment so I can post it to my blog. Thanks!!!
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