So the obvious disclaimer here is that I’m writing this on (1/29/15) but as Thursday is basically my day of rest, I have absolutely nothing to add about it, and since Wednesday is the longest day I’ve ever scheduled in college before, it’s all I can write about these days.
Despite not getting a lot of sleep, I found my morning walk to class to be emotionally recharging. Pittsburgh was brighter than usual with two-three inches of snow around. Everything reflected the sunlight of course, and as such there were places that were actually really warm around town – places you could go to soak up the sun beams. There was also the smell of Fuel & Fuddle firing up the brick oven, God knows why they need to around 9AM. Some people must go in their for the brunch menu. I’m jealous of those people.
With my head thinking about bright warm suns, I listened to The Beatles’ “Here Comes The Sun” (1969) and well, if you know me you know I almost never listen to The Beatles. By all accounts, Wednesday was going extraordinarily. I wrote to Marie Claire, I wrote for The Fourth Wave, I had a coffee, made lunch, and made the best out of the time I could take to relax at home.
My short-essay was the center of attention in a discussion about race in Intro to Gender and Sexuality, and modest though I am, it sometimes feels really great to know that you’re writing is teaching people something, and being enjoyed by people. At this point in the day I’m going so well that I knew “Wednesday was beat.”
During Senior Seminar I have a huge moment of inspiration. All month long I was in a huge writer’s block about what the hell I wanted to write about as my final piece of Nonfiction Writing as a University of Pittsburgh Student. “Who will it be” I kept asking, having only written extensively about people before. I should have been thinking “What will it be.” Research. I need to be able to hit up books at the Library. Then it hit me: The Gimlet. A standard, classic drink, yet one that younger people don’t really know. As my Professor said: “It’s such a simple, yet odd drink. You order it and people look at you like you’re 82.” I admit it feels a little funny to commit research hours to an alcoholic drink but, there’s a history there, there are people behind the history, and there are bartenders today with Gimlet-input – so there’s a story here. How many people want to hear the story of The Gimlet? Who cares! As I close Moby Dick for the last time this month, if anything I should take away that it’s totally fine to write about what you know, and what you love.