That's ridiculous that the Starbucks guy corrected you. Venti. Whatever.
Next to our apartment is a trashy little vacant lot full of weeds. This morning there was a gorgeous male pheasant out there, merrily pecking away. He was huge and iridescent. He had a red head and a red chest and a tail that made me want to be a pheasant. He had a little lady friend pheasant who was not so spectacular.
In other news -- remember Paul's high school friend James? He visited Hiram once or twice and he was our roommate last year in Iowa. For some reason I think me and Paul and you and James all hung around together one weekend at Hiram. Anyway, James got accepted into the writing program at the University of California at Irvine. Which is amazing. It's one of the top writing programs in the country. They get like 400 applicants and select about 10, one of which is, apparently, James. In our cloistered little writing world, writers in such programs hold almost mythic status, so Paul and I are trying to wrap our minds around the fact that James is now one of them. It's a bit weird. It's easier to think about pheasants.
posted by Jen at 3:54 PM link/comments
