I love my Creative Writing class. Even though I’m at school from 11 in the morning to 8:30 at night on Thursdays, it’s totally worth it. We moved from the tiny, oddly-shaped classroom we were in to a small and more comfortable conference room. For three hours, we talked about writing and swapped poems with partners to critique. It was amazing. We discussed the “language of furniture”. One of the writers in the class wrote a poem about an old couch as if it were an old friend, and I guess one of the problems with the poem was that it was too obvious that it was a couch. There was no metaphor involved. Professor Harding told him he had to write in the “language of furniture,” then paused thoughtfully. “I just realized I have no idea what the ‘language of furniture’ is,” he said. We came to the conclusion that it’s more like the language about the couch; instead of saying it was covered in fabric, say it’s upholstered and write about it as if it’s a person with clues that it’s really a couch.

As a result of last night’s class, I’ve edited “Oral Fixation”. I got rid of the “summer tan” line. It just didn’t fit. I sort of knew that after writing it, but Chick said that it definitely didn’t fit. (The same guy who wrote the couch poem read “Envy of a Photoshop Girl” and said it was great. That pretty much made my day, because I didn’t think it was great.)

Anyway, in about an hour I’m going to meet Mike to cash our checks, get some lunch and do a little shopping. I’m going to pick up the supplies I need for my art class. We talked the other night and decided we’d try for Indy next year. I’m really sad, but a part of me is a little relieved. His only remark on the subject? “Now I gotta buy you a birthday present, asshole.” Heh. (We’d agreed on not getting each other presents because we were saving for the trip.) I guess now I have to take him out to dinner (since I still owe him dinner). I’m going to try and not remind him about that. (;