Nonfiction

I spent last night at my grandma's. I came home after watching the Reds lose (again) to the St. Louis Cardinals and found my downstairs neighbor, beer in hand, telling me "power's out." My bedroom's in the attic; the temperature midday gets to 99 degrees with the fan on. Without packing so much as a toothbrush, I got back in my car and drove the 30 minutes east of my apartment. It was worth it to sleep in an air-conditioned house, watch The Daily Show, and eat bacon and eggs for breakfast.

The wordpress site is coming together. I have a nonfiction page with a selection of posts from the past two years. I thought they were ones that could stand without context. I also have a "works in progress" page, where I'm posting pieces of a story as I write it. Of course, a story will get changed a hundred times--in ways big and small--before it's finished.

It's incredibly scary putting stuff out there: admitting, this is what I'm doing, this is who I am. It's just a start; I've got a long way to go. But I need to start somewhere.

Refudiation

On Sundays, as we wait for Reds pregame to start, my dad, grandmother and I often watch Fareed Zakariah and GPS on CNN. It's one of the few things we can watch on cable that doesn't seem to propagandize or make us less intelligent. He has on interesting guests with divergent points of view, and he asks very insightful questions. This past Sunday, he started his show by talking about the debate over the proposed Muslim cultural center.

"I can't believe they want to build a Mosque at Ground Zero," Nana said.

I replied that during the commercial break, I'd refute her.

"What did she say? Did she say that she'd refute me?"

(I certainly didn't say I'd refudiate her.)

But GPS, instead of going straight to commercial, went to its first two guests: former secretaries of the treasury Robert Rubin and Paul O'Neill. They discussed how difficult and complex economic recovery is, and while they disagreed what the correct course of action should be, there seemed to be some common ground. By the time the show went to commercial break, my dad said, "Are you sure you want to do this?"

Nana was asleep in her chair. Even if she'd been awake, I would have let it go.

I see fear and ignorance and emotion as the biggest enemies to progress. Because when we leave those things out of the discussion, the right answer seems clearer. I may be biased, but I believe truth has a liberal slant.

Drinking Locally

My grocery store had a beer tasting Friday night with a local theme: all beers and food served were brewed and produced here in the Cincinnati area. One girl joined us who was in the midst of a round-the-world journey. She's from Melbourne, Australia, and drove from Alaska, across the Canadian Rockies, and back down into the states. What did she think of Cincinnati, I asked? Diplomatically, she said she loves the outdoors and isn't too fond of cities. Up next for her is Scotland and Israel.

Station One:

• Mild Wild Ale - this was a pretty dark beer to start out with, but it's described as "an English session ale with a nice malty flavor which is meant to be drank in large quantities" (of course, we only had 2 oz).
• Ratatouille - eggplant, local zucchini, etc; I skipped it.

Station Two:

• No. 42 Cream Ale - this was yummy; made with corn!
• Sloppy Joes - these weren't so sloppy, but they were still delicious.

Station Three:

• Smoked Bock Beer - this supposedly had "a great smoky bacon flavor and who doesn't love bacon!!!" (I love bacon, but not in my beer)
• Italian Beef Sandwiches - small but thick slice of beef was served in a pita.

Station Four:

• 186,000 MPS Craft Malt Liquor - the server made sure to point out this was 10% alcohol, twice the amount of other samples. Good thing are portions are so small.
• Baked Zucchini Fries - skipped

Station Five:

• Enter the Beagle IPA - this was my favorite of the night, just a classic IPA, not too heavy but still flavorful.
• Kenny's Farmhouse Cheese - small cubes of local cheese paired with roasted almonds; these were awesome together.

We went to Buca Di Bepo for dinner where my awesome friends paid for my share of the food and wine. Two other tables were celebrating birthdays; as the staff joined in a second rendition of "Happy happy birthday" I made everyone promise not to tell them it was mine also: they obliged.

The Reds are fifteen games over .500--this is a great time to be a fan, or a great time to jump on the bandwagon. After so many years of disappointment, I think much of the city is still skeptical. But I say just enjoy it; winning seasons don't come around that often, even if we don't ultimately win the pennant.

Discipline

After about a day of self-doubt, I finished my application essay to Warren Wilson, wrote another 500 words of a story, and started the transition to a new website to house fiction and non-fiction. While I love blogspot for adding entries short and long, I really like wordpress and how stream-lined it is. I became comfortable creating and linking to pages while maintaining a site for my class.

The new one, perfectsand.wordpress.com, doesn't have much yet, just a couple brief samples. But I like the professional look to it. I plan to use this one the same way I have been while wordpress will be "cleaner," for lack of a better word.

Regardless of what happens with grad school, exciting things are on the horizon. I'm amazed and blessed by the support of my family and friends. Also amazing is the incredible community I've found online: writers from all parts of the country (world) in every genre, all with a passion for words or expressing themselves or creating or sharing or entertaining or connecting, or all of the above!

I'm still 30. No new wrinkles or aches; in fact, I ran Wednesday and didn't feel any effects Thursday. We'll try again Monday. Repetition creates habit.

Thirty feels like twenty-nine. Great day with my family. Wondering if my second thoughts about grad school are based on logic or fear...

Anger Management (or, "People Are Weird")

"You never get angry," a friend teased. "I want to see you blow up. Yell."

"I don't get angry," I said. "Or if I do, you'll never know it."

What's there to get angry about? I have a job, great family, friends. Even during the worst of times--running into an ex-boyfriend and his date? paying $10 to see a movie then falling asleep during the middle? coworkers not asking if I want anything for lunch before they order out?--I may get annoyed or embarrassed. But never angry.

"I'll keep working on it," the friend said.

"You do that."

Slowly Beginning This Writer's Life

I went running yesterday morning for the first time in months. My friend (the conservative one!) and I are planning to meet twice a week and run for a couple miles. Or at least I hope to build to that. This morning I woke up, legs like jello, muscles I didn't know existed aching. I don't remember this happening before!

Tomorrow we'll run again. I suspect it will be a little easier making it up that first hill, and hopefully the next day I'll hurt a little less.

***

Slowly beginning this writer's life. Thinking (and rethinking) the importance of going back to school. In the mean time, I run, I drink coffee, and I write.