I've been in Ann Arbor now for 23 days now [well, that number isn't a shocker or anything,ahem, Leslie] and a lot has occurred. I have grown closer to the two friends I met at orientation, Chops [who now remains Chopsless, temporarily I can only hope] and Logan [who is in fact, of the female sex].
Chops is a unique fellow, who breaks the rules of a heterosexual male in regards to a vibrant fashion sense and a wide knowledge of designers, which in turn makes him one of the best straight men alive. He's never heard of the cult classic "Daria," yet he could spit out 10 names of obscure Brazilian bands before you could say "Bossa Nova." In his "baddest" of clothing, he looks like he could tear you into tiny unworthy shreads if you said "The White Stripes suck because of their drummer," but in reality, he's a sweetheart beyond words [although, on second thought, we might kill you together for saying that].
Logan could be the reason I accomplish the "Negative Freshmen Fifteen." No matter where we are or how inappropriate it is to laugh my high frequency laugh, she can manage to force me into a humor conceived fit without notice. Whether it's mimicking the voices on her Electronic German Flash Card Program, or her killer Chola accent, her comical nature is unsurpassable. I luhv joo, hawney...
School has been a trip in itself. They weren't exaggerating when they called it "Intensive Spanish." I have two classes of Spanish a day, Monday through Thursday, and mandatory Spanish lunches and coffee hours. ¿Demasiado Español para Courtney? Tal vez. Just don't be surprised if the next time you see me I'll respond to everything you say in Spanish. That's not annoying, right? Then there's History of Photography. "Ohh, photography!" you say, but no, this class is not passing off snapshots of a crying boy in eyeliner wearing a dunce cap on a carousel as art, this class is a point by painstaking point the history of photography from the beginning of time. Luckily, it's only 3 times a week, and the professor has days of inspiring thoughtfulness that make up for the repetitive bullet points discussing daguerreotypes. Social criticism, thank goodness, is my savior. What? A class where I get to bash all of the groups who make me say "People like you are the reason God doesn't talk to us anymore!" An open-minded professor mixed with the freedom to rant makes Courtney a happy girl.
Ann Arbor has opened its bike-friendly arms to me, and I glad to call it home, whatever "home" may be. Indie dance parties and shows fill my free time, and wonderful vegetarian foods fill my tummy. Any exciting news for the future you wonder? "Yes!" I tell you! I've just finished the book "Perfect From Now On: How Indie Rock Saved My Life," and I just have to say the author, John Sellers, and I share many similarities. Not only does he obviously adore Indie Rock of all types, but he's from Grand Rapids! And he went to U of M [for awhile]! On top of all of this, he's a journalist specializing in music occasionally, and it just so happens I want my name as a byline in some wonderful music magazine someday. What's this all lead to you might wonder? Well, Sellers will be in Grand Rapids for the month of October in order to finish a book. Of course, being in the not-so-distant area, he will be attending the same Bob Pollard show as I am at the Blind Pig. I plan to work some magic with the smooth stylings of Mr. Benjamin DeFever and perhaps invite Sellers to a house show in Grand Rapids. What else is he going to do? Choke from smoke in the corner at Morningstar? Or, you know, at least get my book signed. Either way, the sky is looking blue at this point in time. This has officially turned into a run on report on my current status, therefore achieving my life-like approach.
Be safe, take risks, and know I love you.
With eternal love,
Coco
Posts
1 comment:
Coke, it's the truth, you're the best there is. Thank god we met otherwise I'd probably be spending all of my time in the courtyard smoking and discussing Kafka with V-Neck. Damn.
This puts my blog to shame.... hahaha.
Post a Comment