Oh, the Muncie Scene

So Aaron is back in town, and I miss waking up to seeing him every morning this summer, doing dishes and making coffee. Although the new apartment is so amazing and chic that I wouldn't trade it for the world.
Today was grey and green which was good. Any excuse to sport my hoodies is permissable. When I went to work, Aaron ran out and greeted me with a hug and I loved it.
And then my band played a benefit show for muscular dystrophy at the village green, which was pretty cool. It's good playing shows like that, because to be honest, it's like playing for good friends in the living room. And I'm really excited about the direction that we are moving in.

I miss my mom and my sister and Rachel Puckett.

Speaking of Puckett... one of the regulars (quadruple shot espresso with six ice cubes-the man likes his caffeine) came through the drive-thru today and commented on a picture that she posted on her flickr account of her apartment in Florida and the painting in the background.

A painting which I painted.

Which I let him know. he proceeded to give me his card and commissioned me to paint for him. And then Keenan, (grande coffee with ice on hot days) (also in my top five customer list) asked me to paint him one too.
I'm gonna be a painting machine!

I also painted this picture in my room.
If anyone wants me to paint for them, let me know.

School Lunches- a shout out to Anne Lamott

so, for 286 we are reading a book about writing, "Bird by Bird", (I recommend it. Also, I'm reading "the Joke" by Milan Kundera)
well wait..
That gets a new paragraph.
A classmate of mine today referenced Lamott's line today about how American authors need to be hopeful, and french writers don't need to worry about it, he followed with a Camus reference.
First of all, France does have some pretty depressing authors, and "The Stranger" will probably make you want to go cry in a corner and/or take a nap to pretend you never read it. But read "The Three Musketeers" by Dumas and tell me you don't laugh outloud at his description of the horse.
It's pretty brilliant.
But if you want to read something depressing, read some Czech writing. Like Milan Kundera. Now THAT is depressing. Or read "Night".
Or hell, read one of those Lurlene McDaniel books that my OCD friend Stephanie read in fifth grade about people with fatal diseases. (Most of those novellas go on to become lifetime movies, I'm pretty sure. It's along the same lines as "The Face on the Milk Carton.")
That's enough of that tangent.


In other news, Lamott suggests when you have writers' block, to write about school lunches.
So I'm gonna give it a whack.

Well, most of my elementary school career was spent at All Saints Elementary, a private Catholic School in Charlotte N.C., and we never had the typical school lunch. (Although we did have those confusing milk packets that you had to spear with a straw in order to drink, which took a certain amount of talent and practice.)
What we did have as school lunches was fast food. Somehow, our school made deals with McDonald's, Pizza Hut, and Taco Bell, who supplied our school with hamburgers, cheese pizza, tacos, every day of the school week. McDonalds got Mondays and Wednesdays, Pizza Hut got Tuesdays, Taco Bell got Thursdays, and Fridays you had to fend for yourself.
Now, at the time, I was incredibly bitter about the fact that my mom would not give me lunch money. She argued that it was more economical and healthier for my sister and I to pack our own lunches. That didn't really mean shit to me. All of the other kids were cooler than me, they had fast food.
David Eades and Michael Gatto would sit next to me, making conversation over their happy meals, while I poked around at my un-happy meal with the cheesy note on my napkin from my mom.
Later in life though, I laugh at Michael and David, who have been filling their arteries with all sorts of nonsense from such a young age! Chemically enhanced food! I commend my mother for not giving into my pleading. She really did have Sarah's and my best interest in mind.
If you don't know what I mean, go watch Supersize me, or read Fast Food Nation. Or go to a cow farm.
So I'm proud of the Turkey sandwiches I had, cut in triangles, and my fresh strawberry's and hi-c.
I'm going to call my Mom and thank her.
And then I'm going to pay my gap bill.
And then I'm going to go to class.

So I'm using this blog for my lit class

True story.
No Joke.
I hope I never said anything offensive on here before this, because I really don't think I'm going to hide anything.
I think I'm going to make a system or something to show when I am writing for Eng286.
Which is a class I thoroughly enjoy by the way. So much that I didn't abbreviate.
But how could I not love a class that has Dave Eggers as one of our reading choices? Anywho,
The reading that we did for this class covered the complexity of what an essay is. And to be honest I had never really thought about it the way our text (Best American Essays) had, (from here on out it's gonna be BAE, because that book and I are buddies enough that we can use informal titles). Anyway.
I did enjoy the fact that it had all sorts of well known authors as contributors. Some of which had notable names, which gained silent smiles from me as I read. Which, while reading is the equivalent to a head nod.

"Hey Amy Tan, what's crackin? Oh you submitted a work to Best American Essays? That's fantastic, I can't wait 'til I get to that chapter."

Yes. I took it there.
So now I realize that essays are important. And that I am going to research this Montaigne character, because he intrigues me and I like to put my studies in historical context.
I'm now, for the first time, going to take advantage of this picture option I have. It's one of the MTCUP, where I work. Tomorrow I get to train the new kid with my manager and friend Ashley.
huzzah!

What does your coffee table literature say about you?

Last night was laborious in Apt. 4.
Our mission: coffee table.
SIDENOTE: naturally the two baristas purchase a coffee table before buying anyother living room or kitchen furniture, right?

So we accomplished our mission, (we'll neglect the fact that it's still kind of wobbly, we are suffering from a power tool famine.)
Stevi and then immediately christened our new investment with a stack of coffee table books.

If I were someone, and I was waiting for us in the living room I would have one of two reactions to our coffee table books.

1. Wow these girls suffer from multiple personality disorder
and or
2. Wow these girls are completely badass.

We have
Where's Waldo- the newest one, meant for entertainment for hours on end.
Post Secret- a collection of secrets sent in on anonymous post cards
The Mane Thing- a book with everything you've ever needed to know about hair care
The St. Martin's Guide to Writing- Stevi didn't know where else to put it.
Design it Yourself- A book I picked up that teaches you how to make everything from clothing, to paper, to books, to websites

In other news
I picked up this book which is a collection of letters by Senor Jack Kerouac, which I was really looking forward to. Being a letter enthusiast, and a J.K. enthusiast, I figured it would be right up my alley.
Dissapointment was awaiting me however, because the editor of the book must have been ridiculously lazy. He included pretty much every letter ever.
ever.
including the letters Jack sent to almost complete strangers asking them if they would mail his manuscripts to his publisher.
why the hell would I want to read that?
I was expecting brain revolutions, letter upon meaningful letter.
I guess I just assumed that most fantastic writers made everything they wrote golden.
So if you want to read a book of letters, don't read that one. I encourage you to read "Letters to a Young Poet" by Rainer Maria Rilke, which will indeed change your life for the better.

I apologize if this blog is boring.

'ok pre-teen...learn how to count'

Some funny things.
Such as what Stevi said in the Wendy's drive thru this evening on our way back from Indy. To the acne-ridden hootie and the blowfish haired dork wonder who gave us our change.
Another funny thing
Two other funny things
1 Listening to Stevi verbally abuse Link as she uses him to take out any and all pent up evil she has hidden in her veins. Such remarks as
"oh that's right bitch, i've got a sheild"
"I will make you bleed"
"SHIT HE CAN SHOOT THROUGH THE STATUES!!!"
"*gasp*I have a heart and a half! this fucker's going down"
"you're going down bitch! it's lightning!....oh fuck i'm down to half a heart"
"nodontdrawmeintothedarkworld!nodontdrawmeintothedarkworld!"
2. her boyfriend, ro-bear, shared with her the somewhat embarrassing news that he never realized why the count on sesame street was ironically named...the count.
he just assumed all vampires were counts
never realizing the irony in the fact that the count's favorite past-time was...count-ing.
this reminds me of the time i realized that my mom's world famous (if our home kitchen qualifies as the world) corn-flake chicken, is breaded with actual corn flakes! like what you eat for breakfast!
a revelation which i had last year and immediately called to tell my sister.
I might as well have unearthed the fountain of youth.
or in stevi's current case, the ever-covetted mega-sword.

I'm sorry, i have just been corrected. MASTER-sword.
regardless, sarah didn't share my enthusiasm about my discovery. I now can identify with the way captain christopher columbus must have felt when he realized...he made a HUGE historical f-up when he said he landed in India. Causing all sorts of future confusion for PC people everywhere when it came to who's an "indian".

I went to Orlando! It was fun.
I live in an apartment now! Also fun.
My foot's asleep! not so fun.


EVERYONE read "the Know-it-all" by A.J Jacobs. especially if you like trivia.

and i have pictures up on flickr.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/lcrelyea

also, i pledge to blog more often.