The Brownie

Yesterday, Dr. Johnson (of the science department) threw a brownie with green frosting to Chelsea.  Today said Key Lime Brownie made an appearance in our fiction writing class.  Chelsea gave it to Logan.  Logan gave it to me and told me he made it himself.  I asked how he wrapped it in plastic and left it on Dr. Vance's desk.  Saxon decided he wanted to eat said brownie.

Chomp.

Chew.

Chew.

Chew.

"That was disgusting!  It was like coconut.  Yeah, very bad choice."

Dr. Vance refused to eat the remainder of the brownie.  At the end of class, the brownie missing one bite was still sitting on the desk.

"Somebody's going to have to take care of that," Dr. Vance said.

"That was a very bad decision," Saxon repeated.

The class concluded the brownie made out of ginkgo tree berries and injected with poison.  Dr. Johnson knew Saxon would eat the poisonous brownie, thus making him incapable of playing kickball.  He knew Dr. Vance would not refuse a brownie and the poison would make the English department short two vital kickball players.  In the rule book we write, we will have to make sure distributing poisonous brownies is illegal.

This, ladies and gentlemen, is what happens when you give a key lime, coconut brownie to a Fiction Writing class...

When the story got back to Dr. Johnson, he was amused.  He said the brownie came from the bottom of a chemistry test tube.  Saxon said it tasted like that could have been true.

<>< Katie

Wacky Wednesday

"If life is worth living, then it is worth recording."

Classmate: What is that?
I glanced down at the brown bottle in my hand.
Classmate: That's kind of bold.
Katie: Well I am from the North.  No, actually, it's root beer.  They're serving it in the caf for Oktoberfest.

Mom: I'm bored.  I want to eat, but I shouldn't.  Maybe I'll just go to bed.
Katie: Read a book, that's what you always told me.  Did you ever finish Three Cups of Tea?
Mom: No.  I lost it. 
Katie: You lost it?
Mom: Maybe it's in my music bag, but I'm not really sure.  It might be in my van.  No, I know it's not in my van.  I think it got swallowed by a log cabin magazine.

Katie: The only thing I can actually throw is a pen.
Chelsea: That's the sign of an English major.

Ron Rash: Galloway, who has already killed the typical Rash body count of about a dozen...
[about his amazing book Serena]

Nikki: Chloe told me to feed my cat.  I don't have a cat.
Allyson: What if fish were mini-giraffes swimming around?  How different would our world be if all our pets were shaped differently.

Isaac [age 3]: There's a Ternanisarus Rex out the window.  See it?  Do you see any other ones?
Katie: No, I only see one.
[All of the other adults at the table laughed at me]

Elizabeth [to her boyfriend Andy]: It hurt last time you bit me.

Michael: I tend to not put my mouth on things that can electrocute me.
Caitlin: That's why my hair is curly.
[really the outlets exemplify sound if you're anywhere near them]

Dr. Jones: Bekah's carrying a friend to the hospital.
Katie: That's going to take awhile.

Amy: My goal for this year: to understand Katie.
Katie: Good luck.

Uncle: We just scored in the opening kick off and we've got mini-screen!
Dad: Sarah!
Mom: I'm taping my hockey game.  Just a second.
Dad: Rewind!

Katie: At my house we have an actual cheese cutter.
Nikki: What's an actual cheese cutter verses a metaphorical cheese cutter?
Katie: An actually cheese cutter stinks up the place and a metaphorical cheese cutter makes a lot of noise.

Katie: My head hurts.
Jennifer: Take medicine.
Katie: I did.
Jennifer: Take more.

Andy: So are we going to the store or what?
Elizabeth: Yes. We need medium trash bags.
Amy: Medium trash bags.
Andy: Medium trash bags.
Elizabeth: Medium trash bags.
Amy: And Katie needs new Scrabble Cheeze-its.
Elizabeth: No she doesn't.  We haven't played with hers yet.
Nikki: Roommie, don't be rude and play Banangrams on the floor with Katie's Scrabble Cheeze-its on then put them back into the box.  Be considerate and lick all of the germs off of them before you put them away.

Random man on the phone: I'm not shaving my chest hair.  Yeah, it's getting really long.  It grew a millimeter already.

[Sign Choir practice]
Amber: We could have one or even two Jesuses...
Katie: Sign Choir goes polytheistic... at least we have Jesus in our songs.
[Ten minutes later]
Girl: Wait, how many Gods?
Queen Emily: Religion 1-0-1: One God!

Jake: SURE!  The lactose intolerant girl brings cheesecake!

Katie: Brain fart: what's it called when there's a need and you make it go away.
Nikki: Satisfy.
Jennifer: To.
Katie: You to the need?
Jennifer: Yeah, like the number "two."

Amy: Don't let me forget, I have to mail my Compassion child tomorrow.
Katie: DON'T PUT YOUR COMPASSION CHILD IN THE MAIL!  Who do you think she is?  Flat Stanley?

Jennifer: WHY is there hair in the microwave?
Elizabeth: It goes there, Jennifer; it makes everything more tasty.

Keith: Katie, I'm cold.  And I have that exact same sweatshirt.
Katie: Are you asking me to give you the sweatshirt off of my back?
[Keith nodded sheepishly]

Jennifer: I think Allyson's cough is getting to her ears. I said, "Your phone rang," and she thought I said, "Your padre." It was her dad who called, but I didn't know that.

Katie: Where is my phone?
Andy: In your eye.
Katie: EWW!  That would be so germy!
Nikki: Don't point out the cell phone in her eye until you remove the laptop from your own eye.

Katie: It didn't work.
Nikki: It would have worked if I had done it.
Katie: That's right because you're better than me at everything.
Nikki: Except being skinny, using random German words and pretending they're English, writing really long blog posts, sanitizing light switches, and not licking things on impulse.

Shellie Warren: But as you mature, hopefully, you will encounter men of character and quality. The bad news is that they may not be your husband. The good news is that they very well could bring you one, two, or ten steps closer to him.

Part I: Story Telling

This is Part I of a two-part blog series. Part II will be posted tomorrow.

"How many of you like to tell stories?" A professor asked one morning. Every hand in the room shot up. Of course, this is a creative writing class.

"How many of you like to hear stories?" Again, every hand went up.

"How many of you like to hear your parents or grandparents tell stories?" A bit hesitantly, the hands raised themselves into the air.

"Only the first time," Chelsea whispered to me. A little bit of laughter erupted from our side of the classroom. She'd voiced my exact thoughts. Only once do I really need to hear about how you walked to school everyday through the snow. Yes, I realize it was up-hill both ways.

However, there are some stories I don't mind hearing over and over again. Toddler Dad being brought home by the school girls because he had lost his clothes somewhere in the neighborhood (I like to think this was a recurring story and therefore truly happened as often as Dad tells it). Or how Mom's boyfriend took a flip off of the roof into a snowbank and a passer-by thought it was Grandpa.

I am blessed to have four grandparents and two parents, all healthy. Unfortunately, they're 900 miles away not telling me stories as we sit around and chat. Sometimes I miss that. Somedays I miss dinner being interrupted by a "Hey, did I ever tell you about the time our family cow followed me to school?" Yes, you have, only every day since I was old enough to remember but please tell it again!

As a writer, you never know when these stories are going to come in handy. Maybe they're the substance you need for a good poem, a great situation to plug into your novel, an amusing blog post, or even something to write about when you're suffering from writer's block. Recording and rewriting these stories in your Writer's Notebook is an excellent exercise.

What's a Writer's Notebook? That's tomorrow. See you then!

Go write about your family's classics,
<>< Katie