Missed Connection

I forgot the milk for my son's birthday cupcakes. I'm not sure how it happened, since I remembered every other ingredient including the dazzling spiderman candles. Yet, as I was mixing the flour and sugar with the other dry ingredients, I came to the realization that I finished the last of the carton this morning with the cereal. I escaped through the back door, trying not to wake my over attached husky mix. Jimmy would cry for hours, making the neighbor's ears bleed until I got home. I sneaked a glance at him sleeping by the front windows and tiptoed out the back door. Just as I clicked the gate shut, Jimmy chased after me wailing in desperation. "I'll be home in 5 minutes, Jesus." I walked away from my house, cringing as Jimmy called after me and my neighbor across the street gave me a disapproving glance as he watered his dead plants. I walked to the corner of Maple and Palm and entered the liquor store. I took a basket and roamed the aisles. I picked up a bag of red vines and slipped it between my lips like a cigarette. I bit off the end and sucked air through it, whistling until I reached the refrigerated back wall. I grabbed the last milk carton in the far back. That is where the freshest product is always stored. With my hands full of miscellaneous candy and milk, I swung around to walk to the cashier. The licorice in my mouth flung out of my mouth a hit you on the leg. I looked up and you laughed, handing me the now hair and lint covered candy. You told me that it was also your favorite treat. I replied that if someone told me twirlers were better one more time, I'd punch them. You thought I was funny. You ended up carrying my jug of milk to my house and we talked the whole time about how terrifying space movies are and how they mess with your head. I made you tea, because coffee makes you anxious. You said it makes you poop and you can only poop in the silence of your own home. I confessed similar thoughts, so we shared a pot of chai. You helped me make my kid's cupcakes. I was thankful because I had never baked a day in my life. You showed my how to dye the insides and we made spider man themed cakes. You said your mother taught you everything you know. I  though it was sweet that you talked so much about your mother. Before I knew it, you were helping me put out snacks for the my son's birthday party. You opened the cupboards looking for plates, as comfortable as if you lived here. I could picture that, we'd be sipping tea rationalizing that we were not coexisting with aliens to get to bed at night. I lent you my high school sweatshirt. It fit your broad shoulders and I explained that I lost 60 pounds in one of those biggest loser shows. You looked impressed and then I admitted it was my brothers. You and I just fit together. We laughed at each other's hyper critical nagging of the world around us. We fought over the best flavor of french fry and the worst way to die. You and I somehow wandered into our lives and wandered out of them. You got a call from your sister asking you to meet her for dinner. It seemed urgent so you scribbled your number onto a napkin and we kissed goodbye near front steps of my house. It was our first date, our first beginning together. I wandered back into the kitten dazed by your charm. I picked up some trash left over from the birthday party and put in the bin next the counter. I looked over to where you had sat and remembered your snort embedded laughter. I smiled and went to pick up your scribbled digits.Then, my heart sunk. The paper was no longer on the table. I looked around frantically and then saw a corner of the purple note on Jimmy's bed. Just a small edge of my future remained, the rest liquidating in my dog's intestines. I sunk onto the floor, the piece of paper fluttering from my finger tips. You were gone, with no way to reach you. What is you thought I didn't care? It was all a missed connection. 

Brownies by ZZ Packer

BROWNIES - ZZ PACKER

I think there is a lot that can be learned from ZZ Packer's story "Brownies." I personally really enjoyed this piece because the writer had a very unique voice that I could draw from.











From a writers perspective, the imagery was very unique. She described objects in a very unexacting way which peeks the readers interests. What were some of your favorite lines as a reader?



Some of my favorite lines were:

"That did it, the girls in our group turned elastic" (page 3)

Baby Pigeon descriptions throughout

"A convey of insects threw up tantrums from the wheat grass" (page 11)

"Shaggy white balls of paper towels sat on sink tops like corsages on display" (page 12)



What about the story made you curious and attentive enough to keep reading?
For me, reading about an unexpected POV of racism was interesting. ZZ Packer wrote, "What are you... Caucasian" (Page 4) The story really highlights the racial divide and how meaningless it really is. At the end of the story Laurel, aka Snot, talks about her father asking some white people to paint their porch in order to enjoy the sight of white people kneeling before him. One of the children asks if the father said thank you. This innocent question shows how cruel and pointless racial divide can be.

What to take away as a writer?
1) The attention to detail makes the story more believable.

2) I thought that the use of absurd descriptions made the story come alive.

3) Write in a setting that is from a distant memory.

I used to be a girl scout and have tons of memories of dirty camp grounds and whispering gossip between bites of burnt marshmallows. 

I think its so important to retrieve these memories and write within the setting of them.

4) The bigger picture will come out eventually, just focus on the smaller story.

I think ZZ Packer does a great job focusing on a girl's camping trip and through conversation the story opens up to reveal a much bigger theme about racial injustice.

We Didn't

We didn't help her. We didn't help her when she slid her tray of food beside ours and gave us lonely glances. We didn't help her when she waited patiently to be picked for kickball, her chest pressed to the back of the crowd. We didn't help her when she stumbled on her lines in the California Mission Play; her lips had pulled into a quivering O as she tried to grasp the date her mission was founded. We didn't help her when she slipped on the rare rain puddle, spilling her books across the damp cement. We didn't help her when she puked into the dying grass after run day. We didn't help her when she tucked her head in shame as a girl pointed out her unshaven legs, fuzzy from the lack of women knowledge. We didn't, we didn't, I didn't.

It was the second of August when a heat wave rolled across the small beach city. Everyone who was anyone came to the beach, their arms strapped with towels and coolers. I squeezed myself into a spot between a family of eight, that brought quite the spread of food (greased chicken legs that moistened sunscreen slick lips), and an older couple who wore brimmed hats and had their own umbrella. I took my towel and whipped it out in front of me. Sand had spattered onto it so I kneeled beside my green towel and started brushing off the sand and straightening out the wrinkles of fabric.

The ocean was wild today. The waves crashed against one another, smashing the shore with a groan and then bubbling up. Little holes popped against the sand as sand crabs tunneled their way to safety. A young girl cried in frustration as a wave engulfed her sand castle and melted it into a lump of mud. My eyes scanned the beach until they landed on a familiar figure. Jaimie. Her curves were soft and full. Her arms were fleshy and splattered in freckles that spiraled down her back and to her ankles. She was standing at the shore, the water lapping at her toes. Her arms were spread out wide as if she was going to kick off the ground and fly. She was an angel. I continued to watch her until a hand clasped my shoulder.

"Brian! My man! We were looking for you - the beach is fucking jammed today," Aaron said. He was surrounded by the familiar faces of my friends from school. Their names were Joe, Will, Frank, Kevin and Michael (we like to call him Big Mike). They all unrolled their towels, jamming them next to a pile of chicken bones and the umbrella bag.

"I've been waiting way too long, I'm going to take a swim. You pussies can sun bath all you want," I said standing up and brushing the specks of sand off of me. Frank ran behind me, throwing his t-shirt over his head. His belly jiggled as his feet hit the ground. He whooped with joy and threw himself into the ocean. Laughing, I followed. I glanced to my left to look at Jaimie. She had waded in to waist level, her flingers fluttered against the water.

My toes dipped into the sea, surprised by its warmth I walked to mid shin. Aaron came over to me and punched my shoulder.

"Ew look who it is.." He pointed to Jaimie. I huffed and looked the other way. "Why would she show her body to the public? Its gross man."

"I think she looks pretty nice."

"Dude, what did you say?"

"Nothing, forget it."

"How could you think she looks nice? Are you blind?"

"I think you should just let up man. You've hated her since kindergarten. She's actually a pretty nice person."

"You're an idiot."

"Thanks." I pulled away from Brian and deeper into the ocean. Frank waved to me from far away. He had swam to end of the pier and was a small speck in the distance. Frank was on the water polo team, which meant he liked to show off his swimming skills. I could only really doggy paddle my way across the surface. A wave pulled close and I dunked myself under it. The water smashed against my face and I pressed my palms against my eyes to dry them. I flinched as a bundle of sea weed hit my leg and I stumbled backwards. I untangled to the slimy mess from my ankle and threw it a few feet beside me.

The other guys tumbled into the ocean, swimming in front of me towards Frank. I waded slowly further, but stopped when I was chest deep. Kevin motioned me further and I reluctantly took another step and stopped again.

"Come on Brian! I thought you wanted to go for a swim," Joe screamed out to me, "don't be such a loser all time." I swallowed thickly, feeling overwhelmed by their beckoning calls. I pulled my arms against the water, pulling myself out further. Another wave broke and I was unable to duck under it in time. It crashed against my face making me gasp for air. My open lips filled my mouth with salt water and I coughed. I took another step further until I sunk suddenly. The ground dipped low and water flushed above my head. I frantically pushed water around me to break the surface. I kicked wildly and got caught up in more seaweed. The more frantic I got, the less air I had in my chest. I opened my eyes and watched the surface of the water. Light reflected against it, dancing on the surface. I could make out the blue of the sky, but couldn't make out its clouds. Air was just an arm away, but slowly the sky dissolved into darkness. Clouds came into view thundering the surface into black ink smears. Just as the darkness absorbed the dancing light, I felt something grab my hand.

I came to on the hot sand. A female voice called out to me like an angel. "Brian! Brian! Come on, open your eyes." My eyes felt heavy, their lashes clumped together by salt and sand. They fluttered open and an figure emerged above me, highlighted by brightness.

"Jaimie?" I murmured and squinted at her.

"Yea it's me."

"I'm sorry." She grasped my hand and smiled.

"It was no problem, I was swimming right next to you." Jaimie pulled me up so that I was sitting, looking out at the water. Some of the guys ran out of the water and came to me.

"Are you okay?" Will and Frank kneeled next to, handing me a jug of water.

"Yea. I'm fine."

"Good thing Jaimie was watching you," Will said smiling at her. She blushed and stood up, brushing the specks of sand from her knees.

"I should probably get going." Jaimie said. She tucked her curly short hair behind her ears and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Thanks again. I'll see you around?" I asked. She smiled and nodded and walked off, before the other boys stumbled out of the sea.

Meditation

I think meditation is such a great practice to do everyday. When I first started a couple years ago, I could never sit still. I always had too many thoughts running through my head. The more I practiced though, the easier it was to calm my mind. I have seen the benefits from this meditative practice with my stress and anxiety. I think that it is a great thing for everyone to try.

If you have never tried meditative body scan, try it out. It's a great practice for beginners because it is very guided and you can focus on the voice. Here's a link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cstdBKVZ6B4

If you'd like a good laugh, check out this meditation: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dvC4Yu3ILUc

Namaste!
Claire

Observations

Field Trip to the Circle 

(Orange Union High School, 1920)
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-Orange High School is scratched away from the top of memorial hall's building, but still barely visible to students roaming Chapman's campus.

-Curtains are drawn over apartment windows wedged about store fronts.

-An old man wanders down the street with a week old newspaper clasped behind his hands. Perhaps he hasn't figured out the crossword and is stubborn as hell.

-A group of sorority sisters huddle by the fountain, prancing around in faux slow motion to create the perfect recruitment video. There is one girl who looks left out. She is the only one with short hair and is shuffled out of the video shot.

-A little girl play with a tiara placed on the bed of curls on her head. She is the princess of Palace Circle.

The Things They Carried

 They all carried ghosts.

The things they carried were determined to some extent by superstition.

They shared the weight of memory. They took up what others could no longer bear.

They carried the sky. The whole atmosphere, they carried it, the humidity, the monsoons, the stink of fungus and decay, all of it, they carried gravity.

It was very sad, he thought. The things men carried inside. The things men did or felt they had to do.

____________________________

The beginning of the story starts out with minor descriptions of what the soldiers carried as they travelled through the Vietnamese War. As the story progresses, the metaphorical weight of what they carried grows heavier. Each description tells a ton about each solider. Whether they were religious, scared, superstitious, or home sick, their packed belonging showed it. By the end, their minimal items grow to the weight of the sky, showing the pressure and weight they feel of fighting in such a violent way. The quotes listed above felt the most powerful to me.

As a writer, a great thing to take away is how the author really followed the saying, "show it don't tell it." By the little detailed descriptions, the reader was able to draw so much more from the story. The detailed descriptions also make the story much more believable to the reader because the descriptions are easily visualized. I think I'd like to play more with little descriptions to grow characterization. Perhaps the characters belongings or clothing would tell much more than a general description.