Untitled

[dee-mvp-blog]

outta bounds

1. It’s just me and my younger brother going to the market today. Dad had to stay back at home to take care of mom but he said it should hopefully be a good day to sell our fish because other fishermen are out sailing today. I can never tell what’s really a good or bad day though, I do know it’s hard work to have to try to sell people the same thing that others around you are also selling. I guess a good day would be being able to buy some bread and soda. A really good day might be if we sell enough so we can buy rice and a dish for the family. On a really, really good day Dad will let my brother and I get a piece of candy. But most days we take a lot of our fish back and eat one among the 4 of us and pray for better sales the next day.

Sometimes when the other kids get out of school I get to play with them. They always ask why I’m not in school. I wish I was, I’m supposed to be in grade 4 I think, but helping my family is important. And I couldn’t anyway. Dad apologizes for not being able to put me and my brother in school. Luckily, one of our neighbors is a grade school teacher and taught me basic arithmetic, reading, and writing. Sometimes I practice writing on the gravel or sand. The math helps with the fish sales a lot. I can’t wait to go to school and hopefully learn English. And then grow up to become a doctor so I can help my family more.

2. As a writer who uses familiar experiences, or those of people I personally know, a lot in their writing this exercise made me feel a lot more emotion, especially with the character I chose. I envisioned this character obviously in a third world setting, and the text to be spoken in a language other than English. It’s weird knowing someone you write about can really exist somewhere in the world, and you’re describing their life and thoughts, but in actuality you know nothing about them. To me, that may be why writers might do pieces about things they have no real grasp on because whatever they write can very well pertain to an actual individual or group. Not saying the writers have the 100% credibility, but writing it out definitely has its own affect on the author too and could give a very small insight to what someone else goes through and feels. I felt like while I was figuring out who this little boy was, he became a part of me. This has me wondering why writing about someone-I-know’s life is far less emotional tugging than writing about someone I have no real knowledge of.

[danielleistakingawritingcla-blog]

9.1

1. Its 2am and the red and blue flashing lights are disorienting and you are ready to fucking KILL Jason. He told you that he was going to take it easy tonight and play designated driver for your group. You KNEW he had been drinking but you told yourself it was fine when you got into the car.

 Now the officers are shining lights into your eyes and pushing you into the back of the police car. You thank God that no one was hurt tonight but you also know without a shadow of a doubt that this night will end in one more casualty because you are going to rip Jason’s fucking head off the second you see him. That worthless asshole is as good as dead now.

2. Its 2am and the red and blue flashing lights are disorienting and you are ready to fucking KILL Jason. He told you that he was going to take it easy tonight and play designated driver for your group. You KNEW he had been drinking but you told yourself it was fine when you got into the car because you had been drinking too and you needed to get home right now so you could be up for football practice in the morning.

 Now the officers are shining lights into your eyes and pushing you into the back of the police car. Goosebumps break out on your neck and you try to hold back tears as once again the horror of the situation hits you. What is going to happen to your football scholarship that you worked so hard for? You know D1 schools don’t take too kindly to 18 year old kids with a drinking problem. God your old man is going to kill you, all of those early morning practices for nothing. You hope you can at least graduate after this. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck your life is over. 

You thank God that no one was hurt tonight but you also know without a shadow of a doubt that this night will end in one more casualty because you are going to rip Jason’s fucking head off the second you see him. That worthless asshole is as good as dead now—and probably so are you. 

[dee-mvp-blog]

The sense of anger/disdain I got from the first scene was really strong and this scene in particular already gave me a sense of the different emotions that could be going through this kid’s head. It was interesting of you to use second person because it gave the piece a deep, reflective vibe. Since the scenario was a serious one of someone about to go to college, it put us, the readers, in the actual situation as this kid worried about his future and making the emotions a lot more personal, which I thought was clever of you. With your second scene I think you did really well in muddling the feelings. I wouldn’t have picked anger to be the main emotion in that case and it was clear that there were just so many things going on. Overall I think this was a dope and smart scene for you to use for this assignment.

[dee-mvp-blog]

emoji*

1. Lola had her night evening planned out, it consisted of watching the season finale of her favorite tv show she recorded and scarfing down the pasta she made for herself earlier that day. When she turned on the television to scroll through the DVR she couldn’t seem to find her show. She asked her roommate if the satellite was out any time during the day. It wasn’t. Her roommate just decided to delete Lola’s episode after she watched it herself. What the fuck? And then she had the audacity to tell her how good it ended. You don’t even fucking watch the g’damn show! She bit her tongue and stormed to the kitchen. Her pasta would for sure make her feel somewhat better. Nope. Her topper ware that she put her food in that morning was in the sink. Are you fucking kidding me, dude?! Inconsiderate, selfish ass. Couldn’t even wash my shit?

2. Lola was gonna home to her show’s season finale on her DVR and the bomb pasta she made earlier. Scrolling through the list of shows however, hers wasn’t there. Shit, did I forget to record it? Nah, I fasho did. She asked her roommate if the cable was out at all during the day, but it wasn’t, she apparently just watched it herself and deleted it afterwards. Whoa, that’s weird, she can watch love shows now? Anything remotely romantic that reminded her of her fuckboy ex made her want to die. Fuck nah, she’s lying out of her ass, she just deleted my shit. Then her roommate told her how it ended and that it was really good. Oh my gooosh I knew they’d end up together, yaaaas! Oh shit, so she did watch it? That’s so strange, but I guess that’s a step towards improvement. Lola then went into the kitchen to find her pasta container empty in the sink. Damn, I was looking forward to that. First my show, now this? C’mon world, what have I done?.. Why me? Well at least Phoebe’s starting to eat again...

[dee-mvp-blog]

Author Bio

Daisa Marie Pimentel is currently a psychology major at the University of California, Davis. Born and raised in the Bay Area, she has always appreciated diversity. This sparked her enjoyment of learning about other cultures and hopes of traveling the world. Pimentel also likes cooking and watching television shows that she hopes never get cancelled. She considers herself a realistic romantic, one with a deep-rooted inclination to reading love stories. However, she often avoids romance in her own writing. With a large, close-knit family she tends to draw inspiration for her writing from their experiences.

[ucdfictionalthings]

The footsteps getting closer as she runs and runs and runs.

With one last look behind her, she leaps with eyes closed.

[dee-mvp-blog]

Footsteps nearing, no where else to run.

She jumps.

[ucdfictionalthings]

If you taught me that a glass of wine with dinner is good for you, why do I drink whisky now?

[dee-mvp-blog]

You taught me that wine was good for you. But I drink whiskey now?

[albertn5f-blog]

3:00 AM

Nicki I miss you

I just drank three bottles of Ace of Spades

This pink bottle remids me of when you used to dres in pink

Drizzy, I am with Meek.

Drop him for me I better

You’re drunk

I know… 

Btchs in my old phone…. I shoud cll one nd go home

I been drinking so much

Don’t start texting me Marvin’s Room

Meek will kill you

haha……

Wat is he going to do tweet me?

Just come over

Read 3:12 AM

3:45 AM

Nicki….. My diss on Meek was nominated for a Grammy.. He has nothing on me…

Read 3:47 AM

4:12 AM

Nicki I miss you

Read 4:13 AM

11:23 AM

Sorry about last night

I guess I’m not over you

Read 11:28 AM

[dee-mvp-blog]

I’m gonna start off by saying this was hilarious to come across and read, especially at 2 in the morning while listening to WATTBA lol. At first I think as a reader you’d need to know a lot of context of the controversy between the characters involved in order to understand these messages, because they are real people. Although it could very well be any text conversation between a jealous ex-boyfriend or something to someone who doesn’t know the exact context. But since it is based off of known celebrities I think it’s hard to get a sense of either person’s true interiority because we already have expectations for how the conversation’s supposed to pan out. There would be Drake simping and Nicki rejecting him. The references to lyrics and use of read receipts were used well to confirm these certain expectations. The read receipts in particular were good statements without having Nicki actually conversing because it is a real type of way to defer conversation with the form of text. It was simple to follow if you got the references and overall really funny.

[dee-mvp-blog]

Rest Eazy

Uh, g-good morning everyone. For those of you that don’t know, I’m Eric. Eric Davis. Scott is--was my younger brother. To be straight up with y’all, I don’t feel like I have the right to be standing up here right now. I hadn’t talked to my brother in damn near 3 years. But when Alicia reached out to me asking me to say a few words today, I knew I couldn’t not. When I first found out about the accident, it hit me like a semi. I just kept thinking about the bullshit that came between us knowing there was no taking anything back. But then I had to figure out a way to tell our moms ‘cause I knew she woulda just died right there to follow Scotty. I remember when we used to play football a couple of blocks away from the house or grab something to eat at El Portal up the street, moms would always call out, “Y’all come back how you left, together! I don’t need half of me missing.” Or when he was getting bullied for having good grades back in high school, believe I put those dudes in check, real quick. Ha, that fool was smart; he was smart as hell. He got the math and writing genes for sure. I was just the good looking brother.

Everyone who knew him back then knew he was gon make something outta himself. And he did. He got himself a beautiful family, with 2 great kids and a loving wife in Alicia. Even though we fell off, I know that that fool was still the humble, generous, smart ass kid he’s always been. Man... It’s still a hard pill to swallow knowing he’s really gone... Ha, I bet he’s laughing at me for saying this simp shit, but Scotty was a special one: son, husband, father. Brother. Really wish I coulda just been the bigger man, Scotty. Rest easy little bro. I love you.

[ucdfictionalthings]

6.1 question

Sometimes, I don’t understand a certain part of the story, or something happens with the format, and I get confused. But I can also see how that could be part of the author’s intention, to make the reader think or feel a certain way. How can we tell what is the author’s intention, and what needs to be fixed?

[dee-mvp-blog]

I also have confusion on this topic because we are advised to extract the author from the story to begin with, but we want to make sure we’re taking the right approach when reading when reading their story. I was looking into “authorial intent” and came across several blogs like https://blogs.ancientfaith.com/glory2godforallthings/2016/01/05/beginning-true-authorial-intent/ and I thought it made a really good point that any leisure reading material is going to be subjective. It is valid to interpret readings in one’s own way, so I think a reader shouldn’t be worried about whether they’re interpreting the literature to the exact intention of the author. If a reader picks up on a certain thing while reading, whether in form or whatever, how they explain that is completely up to them. If a text invokes a certain vibe or feeling, that should essentially be a good thing. But at the same time no writer wants their readers to be entirely lost or confused while reading, and their objective is to convey a particular message so we wouldn’t want to completely rule out the author’s intentions.

This link, https://www.partiallyexaminedlife.com/2012/09/23/does-the-author-matter/, discusses the idea that the reader is allowed to have an interpretation, but it should be one that the author could understand. I think this is a good point of view regarding your question, because it does advocate the readers’ control in how to perceive the writing, without having to disregard the writer’s agenda. As a personal sidenote, I usually read stories not paying much attention to form, until there are contextual hints to do so. If it’s an obvious time jump or a shift in point of view/perspective taking place then I’ll understand the author’s purpose of using a certain form distinction. But if it’s a type of form that’s consistent throughout the writing and meant to show a constant pattern, I have a difficult time recognizing that. Overall, if something rubs you a different way while reading, author intended or not, I think you should just flow with it.

[ucdfictionalthings]

A Question About Fiction

In almost all of the stories we have read this quarter, excluding perhaps The Girl, the Wolf, the Crone, have been focused on characters as human beings. My question is, how do I create a character that seems genuinely human? I want people to read my story and connect to it in a very real way, but I am not sure how to go about achieving this. 

[dee-mvp-blog]

My instinct reaction/answer to this question was with making a character believable, although I’m not certain that they are similar. But I also think “connecting” with a character or a story is a very subjective concept, so this “connection” idea makes me primarily think you need to first make the character a believable one. A “genuine human” has their own quirks and inexplicable things about them. A reader may also not fully understand a problem the character is going through, but the reader can still believe that the problem and character are real.

For instance, in “Cleopatra Brimstone” there were a lot of internal conflicts that we were never explicitly revealed, but we all knew Jane was going through some things. I personally had a lot of sympathy for her, because it was easy to understand that the person she has become was greatly affected by a traumatic event. What the character goes through may not necessarily be something readers can relate to easily. I feel that any reader can kind of distort the reality of a story to make it something that they personally can relate to, but the most connect-worthy thing is how the character reacts to the situation. Referring back to “Cleopatra Brimstone,” not many people would go to the extent she went to but we had an overall sense of why she was doing what she was. I think a key to this story in particular was the point of view being in third person. It said a lot about the character having a guard up and that’s something a lot of people can connect with. Readers knew that third person narration gave us more insight to the character than Jane ever could. So another little tip that could help is just knowing your character’s willingness to be open. Because in the end I think a character being closed-off to the world can be a very relatable trait to the reader, as can your character being very open with their feelings.

I came across this article, http://www.how-to-write-a-book-now.com/create-characters.html, which talks a lot about different approaches to writing characters. It addresses tips on making a believable character, I essentially think any connection you want to be made by a reader, it would follow after this incredibly believable character is conjured up.

[niecygirl34]

It Started With...

It started with a baby who was left alone in the cold.

Jenny was walking to class while sipping on the last of her coffee; she spotted a metal bin at the end of the bridge. She walked over and tossed her cup in. The trash hadn’t been picked up for days, it was overflowing and cardboard boxes lay all around the sides. As she turned to continue her path, she heard a sound. Faint at first, but then the sound grew. The sound of crying was now piercing Jenny’s ears. Fear began to grow inside of her, before she could process what was going on she instantly ran to the trash. Carefully but quickly she began searching through the scraps. Soon enough there he was. Big brown eyes filled with tears, wrapped in a ripped cloth, he was shivering. Jenny cradled the baby and began to cry too.

She didn’t go to school that day, actually she didn’t go to school for many days.  Soon enough she began to take her classes online so she could stay home and raise Trevor. He was getting so big; the love Jenny felt for him seemed unreal, she loved him as if he was her own. In a special way, he kind of was.

The girls at her school started to talk. Some had seen her around with Trevor; their eyes watched her as if she was prey. They studied her every movement and used this as ammo to talk shit and tore into Jenny’s life as if it was their own. Jenny didn’t care. People could talk all they wanted, say anything, think whatever, none of that changed anything. It didn’t take away from the love that sparked a flame in her heart every time she looked into Trevor’s eyes, because in the end it didn’t matter what people said about her. It was better than everything they would say about Trevor and Jenny knew that, but she didn’t care. In the end all the negative assumptions were just background noise.

[dee-mvp-blog]

This was such an intense scenario told in a very concise, condensed and lighthearted way. I had the automatic urge to know more about Jenny, like what made her keep the baby herself or how her home/school life was prior to discovering Trevor. I feel like this sort of situation does occur in other parts of the world so it wasn’t that hard to envision but at the same time we’re left with a lot to ponder on, on our own. Some insight to Jenny’s thoughts while actually caring for Trevor or dialogue from the girls talking shit would’ve been an interesting aspect. I’m led to feel sorry for Trevor at first then grateful that someone like Jenny found him. The third person narrator makes me feel like I’m watching this happen from a pretty far distance but the sense of delicateness of the story builds a slight connection with the characters.

[dee-mvp-blog]

bae

It started with a single glance. So many things were rushing through my head, I couldn’t think straight for what felt like forever. There was a voice telling me that I’d regret not going for it, while another voice was insisting that it wasn’t practical if I did and it wasn’t me. The overthinker in me darted through a bunch of questions about how this one decision could potentially alter my life. It really wasn’t like me to do something like this, but maybe that in itself was a good enough reason to do it. Or a good enough reason not to.

Screw it, the worst thing that could happen is -- nope, don’t do it.

What did I even expect from this decision? I feel like this sort of thing always happens to me and I always go with my head and act rationally. Why couldn’t I just be more spontaneous and go with my gut? I was never good at this, despite really wanting to be.

Seriously dude, it won’t kill you.

But it could. It would kill my pride. And I’m a prideful ass person. I’m taking way too much time to make up my mind and at this point I’m pretty sure I’ve already missed my chance. I took another look.

Aw shit.

Now I had to do something. I was definitely looking like a full-on creep after that eye contact. This is what I get for stalling, but I mean what if I did it too early? That probably would’ve been worse. Right? I really need to get better at this, what if it came to a situation where asserting my self could actually affect my life for the better? That could even be now. One of my high school teachers always reminded our class that “the greater the risk, the greater the reward”. Definitely wish that mindset came more naturally to me. I was not up to risk anything. Finally I made a decision and walked over so awkwardly.

“Hey, I was just wondering if I could pet your dog?”

“Oh yeah, sure! This is Rocko.”

“Awww, like the show right?” *infatuated-ly petting this dog*

“Ha, yeah actually it was my favorite cartoon.”

“Rocko’s really cute.” *still admiring the canine”

“Thanks, I know he deeply appreciates that.”

“Yeah, his owner’s not that bad either.”

High risk, high reward indeed.

[dee-mvp-blog]

gnihtemos

I’m 13 years old and am so bored. There’s this old lamp my mom adores and I have no idea why, it’s in the living room right next to me, but none of us are allowed to touch it. Our living room is this puky yellowy color, Mom says that it brings in light, I guess we need that since we can’t use the lamp.

This confuses me because I don’t think there’s anything really special about it. I could obviously be wrong though. Who am I to dictate what is valuable to my mother? But it still confuses me.

I’m sort of craving a peanut butter and jelly sandwich but I don’t think we have bread because Mom made bread pudding last night, which usually means she finished the stale bread. So I can’t make any sandwich really. I could just eat the stuff out of the jar though.

This bothers me because the one time I’m ever craving anything we don’t have the founding compartments to make it. Even if I wanted a turkey or egg salad sandwich, it wouldn’t be possible. I mean I could make something else without bread. But it still bothers me.

I’m finished with my homework and sad at the same time because now I really have nothing to do, or to avoid. I was assigned to read a chapter for history about Mesopotamia, the narrator of that documentary in class made me knock out seven different times. Then I had a worksheet for science answering stuff about our mouse trap car experiment. My and my partner’s didn’t work properly, it sped off backwards.

This surprises me, that I’m done with my homework, not that our trap car went the wrong direction. Now that, that I was sort of expecting to be honest. I usually do all of my homework before Mom gets home anyway. But it still surprises me.

[mercedesp24-blog]

Cafe chillin’

I feel like I am making it obvious that I am listening to their conversation. How can I make it less obvious?? I have my headphones in and I’m pretending to be in my own world when I’m really just trying to be in theirs. I rarely go to coffee shops to study in the first place so this is already weird enough for me. I honestly would have preferred to go to an In n Out to people watch. Or better yet! El Burrito! They always have something interesting going on, especially around 1 am on weekends when drunk college students stumble in and try to act composed as they order their meal. Makes for some good laughs. Late night snack and entertainment.

But sadly, that will have to wait. For now I am trying to listen in on this conversation that is happening one table away from me. The topic of conversation: midterms. Yes this is a boring topic, but bare with me. I have been sitting here watching nothing happen for the last 20 minutes so if this is as good as its going to get, fine with me.

Midterms usually cause me extreme stress, so listening to this conversation should make me uneasy, maybe a tad sweaty as I start to focus on my responsibilities for the coming week. However, the reason I am still forcing myself to sit here is because the two girls are not talking about studying for a midterm they are discussing whether to cheat on one.

My initial thought when I understood what they were suggesting to each other was: you gunna’ get caught. Cheating on a college campus and having to mess with SJA. That was not on my bucket list for my time at Davis, but maybe it was on theirs. As I keep listening I realize that one girl was more inclined to cheat than the other. She kept on saying it was the only way they would pass the class. They had to help each other during the test. They would each study a part of the material and then collaborate and… this is where the conversation gets a little hazy. I only caught parts of what they were saying but from the sound of it Hesitant Girl was yet to be swayed by her friend.

At this point, I am debating whether to leave or not. I don’t want to hear the outcome or care much for it. I just felt bad for the two girls because if they had to resort to cheating to pass an exam… that was just sad. So I decide to go on Facebook for a little before I leave and that’s when I hear Hesitant Girl say “I knew you would see it my way.” Did Hesitant Girl convince her friend not to cheat??? I try to listen in some more but I just can’t make out what they are saying. I pack up my things and leave with a smile on my face. This experience may not have been the most exciting but I like to believe in the good in people. So in my mind (and hopefully this really happened), Hesitant Girl not only strayed away from a bad situation but also helped lead her friend down a better path instead of leaving her behind.

[mercedesp24-blog]

She’ll hear my out. She has to. She’s my best friend there’s no way she won’t see my point. True I’ve never suggested anything like this but that doesn’t necessarily make it a bad thing. Well… it’s a frowned upon idea if anything, but I’m only suggesting it because I feel like I have no other way out of my situation. She’s understanding she won’t judge me.

As I sat there in the coffee shop waiting for her, I couldn’t help but feel nervous. Why the hell was I nervous? I’m about to tell my childhood friend something. That is nothing new. We’ve been through everything together and shared so many secrets, we know each other in and out. And surprising to many, we have yet to get tired of each other. I love her company and I’m sure she can say the same about me. So why now am I feeling so uneasy? I know she would never think of me harshly unless I did something to intentionally hurt her but maybe I was still afraid that she would lose some hope in me. That in her eyes I had taken a turn for the worse. Maybe she will.. OH she’s here!

“Adry!” I tried to yell but I’m pretty sure it came out like a weak little call from my throat being so dry. I beckoned for her to come over and sit. I had already ordered her favorite coffee, maybe that would put her in a good mood right away. As she sipped her coffee and got out her laptop and notes as usual during our study dates, I just straight out told her, “I need you to help me cheat.”

The conversation that followed was a long one. We talked for a good hour, just the two of us in the corner of the coffee shop. After my initial blunt statement, I tried while stuttering a lot to explain everything. My reasons for asking her to help me in something so unjust. Adry being the person she is, listened to my every word. She asked some questions, but not once did she make me feel judged. She never used a harsh tone with me or made me feel like I was anything less than her. I grew less nervous as we talked and she truly wanted to help me out. She understood why I was scared. We were in the same class and she knew the material was insane. She herself was struggling, having received a 57% on the first midterm which looked spectacular next to my 34%. I started to try to persuade her that this was good for both of us that we both needed to succeed and this could be our ticket.

During this whole time, I had forgotten where I was. The café had become irrelevant. But that is when I noticed her. She was sitting two tables away from us on her laptop, typing away with her headphones in. How long had she been there? Did she here what we were saying? Even if she did she probably wouldn’t mention this to anyone, why would she care?

Anyways I need to focus, I feel like Adry is really seeing my point. This could happen. But then, Adry does what she has done since we have known each other. She has always known how to keep me grounded, stop me from losing my way. When we were in high school, even though she would be right there next to me at all those parties having fun she not once let me out of her sight and always took care of me. She says the right thing at the right time. Always. And this moment wasn’t any different. Cheating wasn’t in either of our natures and even if we could manage it, we would feel worse after. She was right, so right.

“I knew you would see it my way.” Adry exclaimed a little loud compared to the whispering tone she had just been using.

Yeah I did see it her way and I was relieved. Maybe this what I wanted all along, for her to discourage me from doing something stupid and taking her down with me. Even though I was still in the same horrible situation academically, I felt ten times better. I couldn’t help but smile. I have such a trusting and loving friend, how did I get so lucky? I look up to see if Headphones Girl is still there but I see her leaving, a small smile on her face, as she turns the corner away from the café.

[dee-mvp-blog]

I wonder if that smile was for us? For me? I felt proud of myself for not giving into temptation and even more grateful to have a friend who didn’t allow me to. I should’ve known better, but having Adry to save me when I can’t help myself is a blessing. I asked Adry if she noticed the girl a couple of tables down with the black laptop case, she didn’t. I wanted to tell her about what I thought had happened, but decided not to. But I still continued to wonder if the girl did overhear our conversation and if she did, did she hear the entire thing? Did me noticing she could potentially hear, actually make me change my mind? Do I even care if she did? My mind was everywhere despite me trying to focus on my notes, then my favorite voice of reason exclaimed,

“Wanna get El Burrito?!”

[dee-mvp-blog]

She was helping her mom clean the house in hopes of finally being the first to choose from the candy jar that week. Her siblings always got to pick before her because they acted better throughout the week, but this was definitely her gateway. Whenever it was the end of the school week her mom would allow her and each of her siblings to get a piece of candy from the jar on the granite countertop and there was always a king sized, two regular bars, and a stick of gum. Obviously the good stuff would be gone first, and the best she’d ever got was a regular bar. But not this week, she’d get that king size, and helping clean around the house was her insurance.

Her plan went well up until the eldest came downstairs. He automatically knew what she was doing and wouldn’t stand for it. Later that day her mom tripped over something and nearly busted her face. She was so angry, considering she’d just spent the day cleaning, what could she have possibly tripped on in the middle of the hallway? The eldest conveniently popped up and asked if she was okay.

It was finally the end of the week and the girl was ecstatic about going first. So they all assembled in the kitchen as they always did, she with a giant smile on her face. She didn’t go first. Before being allowed to go second, her mom told them all that she had tripped over a shoe the other day. She got her regular sized bar with disappointment and confusion, but was grateful nonetheless.

She shook her head back into focus on the post-it note on her desk, “after lunch meeting pick up heels from Greg’s”

[dee-mvp-blog]

Freeping

My friends and I sat on separate single couches as I thanked them for coming along with me to do my homework of creeping. One of them loves coffee so she happily came along and laughed that she was jealous of my assignment. As I tried to drown out my friends’ conversation and not give in to my temptation to buy a pastry I noticed a small group of younger looking teenagers walk in. They were all chattering through the entrance and a few of them walked past me and got themselves seats while the other several took their place in line.

I personally like to mentally rehearse my order whenever I’m out to eat to avoid tripping up at the cash register. I could hear the group of girls doing just that, but rather out loud and reciting drinks to each other. It seemed as if one or two of them had never been to a coffee shop and didn’t know where to begin.

One girl told her friend, “I’ve only had mocha and caramel frappucinos. There’s not a lot of coffee and they’re pretty good. Try it.”

I was brought back to when I was still in middle school and I would order decaf frappucinos because my mom said caffeine wasn’t good for me. It really was like a time of innocence, where I didn’t exactly know the harm of something such as caffeine, but stayed away from it anyway. I also remembered the last time I tried ordering decaf and the cashier told me they didn’t serve decaf any longer. So as a preteen I had no idea how to respond but take the drink as is.

Her friend replied, “Dang, those are like $6, I think I only have enough for like a plain cup of coffee.” The whole little group started to laugh and I thought it was pretty funny too, considering I felt her situation to the core, having to ball on a budget.

“Don’t worry, I got you,” another friend chimed in after the laughing subsided.

“Nah, I feel bad dude!” I would’ve felt bad too, but always wait for the second or third offer, then you feel a tad better.

“It’s cool, I have a gift card from my aunt and I like never go here. So what did you wanna try? Mocha frap? Go ask *some name* what he wanted again.”

The one friend walks away and comes back reading off of her phone, “Okay so 2 caramels, 1 vanilla bean, 1 mocha and whatever you’re getting.” The friend that was paying seemingly tried to repeat the information back until she reluctantly asked for her friend’s phone to read.

“What sizes did you guys want?” The friends looked at each other as if that was a mission not nearly worth the effort to think about or make a trip for. “Nevermind I’ll just get us all mediums”, the girl said chuckling.

I couldn’t help but think that in how many more years, whenever they start college or whatever, they’ll probably need to order far more caffeinated drinks than just frappucinos. I also couldn’t help but think damn she’s about to get 5 medium fraps, can I be her friend too?

[dee-mvp-blog]

My friends and I just got done eating at El Toro Bravo (really good tacos) and had some time to kill before my basketball game and their improv show started. Conveniently, I remembered this assignment and suggested we get coffee. One friend was ecstatic since she’s obsessed with coffee and with the extra time everyone else was in a “why not” trance. I wasn’t sure if I actually wanted to get something or just observe since I was still full and was not trying to spend more money. But let me just say that the lemon loaf was calling my name up until even after I left the place.

We entered to the waft of heating coffee grounds and the bustling of workers and patrons with the overcast of the vent system. We each settled into single couches, the ones that simultaneously look inviting and uncomfortable as hell, trying not to pick at the deteriorating fake leather, knowing that if you start to  you’ll inevitably rip off the entire exterior. I didn’t know what I was looking for, I tried picking up conversations around me, drowning out my friends’ conversations but nothing seemed cool enough. I heard a bunch of laughter coming from the front of the store when I saw a little herd of young teenagers enter. Honestly, I couldn’t help but think oh here are some cool kids about to order complicated ass drinks. Creepily and dutifully I listened in on their chatter.

“I’ve only had mocha and caramel frappucinos. There’s not a lot of coffee and they’re pretty good. Try it.” Just kidding, I guess I was wrong.

“Dang, those are like $6, I think I only have enough for like a plain cup of coffee.” Girl, I feel it, balling on a budget. I wouldn’t even allow myself to spend 2 more dollars that night for some bread.

“Don’t worry, I got you. I have a gift card from my aunt and I like never go here. What did you want? Go ask *so and so* what they wanted again.”

The one girl galloped over to a few of their other friends and came back looking over her phone. “Okay so 2 caramels, 1 vanilla bean, 1 mocha and whatever you’re getting.” The paying friend seemed like she wanted to remember that on her own, but reluctantly just asked to read her friend’s phone.

“Cool, so what sizes did you guys want?” That’s an entirely new mission girl, your friend was just over coordinating flavors.

I think they felt my vibe because they just looked at each other in a “damnit” manner and laughed. The one friend decided to just get them all mediums. Can you make that 5 medium frappucinos and a lemon loaf?

This whole time I was reverting back to when I was still their age and ordering the most basic drinks and always asking for decaffeinated. Because really, what preteen needs to be hyped up like that? That age is still the time of naivety and I thought to myself how they probably don’t realize how much the world has to offer. Like more caffeine.

[whitmbrown-blog1]

Moms

Mrs. Jones is a weight loss coach. She acts like a life coach. Her friend Mrs. Reed suffers her lectures during their weekly coffee meetings.

“If you have your values, your kids are gonna pull away from them as teenagers, but they will come back,” says Mrs. Jones, quite fervently, as Mrs. Reed sips her coffee and agrees, thinking about her plans for the rest of the day. When they’ve finished their coffee, Mrs. Reed would like to do her grocery shopping. Her husband’s parents are visiting this weekend and she’d like to make a nice dinner. Maybe fish? Or she bets she could find some fresh crab…

“…It’s a liberal arts school, no grades, his mom is saying you need to become a scientist and marry a nice Jewish girl. He majors in English, his parents are freaking out. He graduates, without any grades, and decides to become a professional lifeguard.  Couple years later, he decides he wants to go to medical school, so he goes back to community college, pays his way. Last I heard he was in his second year of a fellowship in cardiothoracic surgery at Harvard. I’m just saying there’s a philosophy: CTFD, “Calm the fuck down”

Mrs. Reed had listened occasionally to parts of Mrs. Jones’ spiel, throwing in some “wow”s and “oh really?”s. 

“I have to do that too because I get really high strung, tell myself to CTFD”

Well, at least she’s aware of it, that’s a start, thinks Mrs. Reed. After the grocery story she’d like to go back home and pick up the house before the kids get home from school. Maybe she should make some cookies so that everyone will be in a good mood when the grandparents arrive. 

“It’s your job to have confidence in your child, I think there’s  a lot of different ways to learn. My daughter doesn’t want to go to college, but I know she’s going to do well in life. There’s so many ways. I’m so proud of my daughter,“ says Mrs. Jones. She continues on, talking about her other kids and how amazing they are. Mrs. Reed thinks about her own children and wonders if she is a bad mom because she doesn’t speak for minutes on end about them. 

[dee-mvp-blog]

This was fun to read because it was more story rather than just your experience at the coffee shop. The detail into the moms’ life stories was simple yet said a lot about them. I liked the part when Mrs. Reed drifts off to thinking about having to buy groceries because the in-laws were visiting. Mrs. Jones constantly badgering on about random stuff while Mrs. Reed sort of just endures it all made the relationship between the two very real and relatable. I appreciate that you (I assume) took what you heard from an observation and conjured actual life and relationship context of the characters.