B R O W N S T O N E S

Here's a taste of my latest story for the Printz:

Just across Highway 49 lies a plethora of venues that offer both interesting and exciting experiences in music, art and restaurants. One of these is Brownstone’s, a New Orleans-style favorite of the downtown scene.

Brownstone’s opened four years ago on July 4 by Ken Brown who said, “We purposely pursued this downtown location for Brownstone’s to complement other local music venues, such as Thirsty Hippo, B&E Wine Bar and Benny’s Boom Boom Room, and help foster the ‘college town’ experience which towns like Oxford, Starkville, Tuscaloosa and Athens, Ga., have established.”

Brian Beck has been working as a server at Brownstone’s for three weeks and said he enjoys working in the downtown atmosphere. “ People seem to think that West Hattiesburg is all that Hattiesburg has to offer, but downtown is really beautiful and has a lot of culture,” he said.

There’s a sense of community and camaraderie that comes from working amidst the quieter downtown scene. “People that work in the downtown community are friends,” Benge said. “We all hang out together.”

Ken Brown agreed with many downtown employees, stating his interest in revitalizing down town. “We wanted to participate in the Downtown Hattiesburg revitalization and be an integral player in the growing restaurant and music scene,” Brown said.

Beck said his favorite thing about coming to work is seeing Downtown Hattiesburg in the morning. “It’s so beautiful seeing the sun come up over all the buildings, there’s just so much beauty here, and I don’t think people know that.”

N O S T R E S S

Things I've learned about college:

• Go
• take notes
• talk to teachers
• know what you can handle
• tell people what you can handle
• demand the best
• (you ARE paying for it)
• don't waste time/money
• and always do what you enjoy (why you're in college in the first place.)

Here's the thing guys. You do not need college. College doesn't want you to know that. Your parents likely don't want you to know that. Society wants us to believe we need it to succeed, and because it's accepted as fact jobs are going to expect it because they can.

You are there paying for a piece of paper that says you chose to make your life more difficult, put in effort, and pay lots of money to have whatever career you're perusing. That's why it's impressive. That's what's setting you apart from everyone else.

But for you personally, college isn't anything that you don't make it. Make it an opportunity to push yourself, to do things you haven't done before. To learn, not because you have to, not because of your parents, but because it matters to be able to articulate intelligent thoughts with your peers. We are as enlightened as we choose to be. College is your chance to marvel at something. If you're marveling at a professor, or art, or the realization that you're ready to choose a career, it's there for you to do that.

___________________________________________________

"You don't have to be in college to play beer pong," John Green.

___________________________________________________

If you decide that you're there for yourself, for some greater purpose than pleasing your family, or anyone else for that matter. If you're there of your own choosing, for your future, but for your present too, then college is for you.

And I'm only saying this because today in math class I knew that college was for me. Even though I haven't a clue what is going on in there, I'm challenging myself. I'm going to get through it. Because college isn't worth stressing over, you don't have to pay a university to hate your life, you really could do that for free. College should make you happy. And if it doesn't, then it's really simple to leave. 

N E W B L O G

ashes.are.dusty

I'm going to start a new blog with my friend Dusty. We both work for the Printz and we want to start our own little story of down town Hattiesburg. She's such an amazing photographer and there's only so much room in a paper, but the internet is infinite and interested. So, what's going to happen is I'm going to be writing some articles (which may or may not be in the paper) and she'll be taking some pictures, and the articles will be in the blog (with the best picture) and there will also be a Tumblr where you can find the rest of the pictures from that story. We're really excited about it and want to try to get involved with this magazine called The Pines that started last year. I'm really excited about it. I'll keep you all posted.

<3
:3

I L I K E T H I S M O R E N O W

____________________
Fuck everything.
____________________

If It Hurts, It Is Beautiful
.
And when you stood up it was with the whitest bouquet of surrender--
when I said I love you you cried don't hate me.
When I pulled the roses out of my eyes and begged to see the world;
yearned to look at you for what you really are--
I was blinded. My eyes were empty.
.
So I closed them. Someone else's mom put flowers around my head
and I wore them. But when the day trudged on, when those flowers
cradled my head and drooped into my eyes
I had to cry for you then.
.
Because what is love if not eternal?
What is a father if not the seed that sustains us,
brings us into the person we are--
plants us in the home where we'll grow;
shove roses in our eyes
convince us to look at them like petals
bat our thorn coated eyelashes
until our faces bleed
.
never know the difference between
the red streaks and crying
never know where to point our
lady fingers.
Wrap our arms like vines around them
forever.
And love them. Regardless.
____________________________________________________

____________________________________________________

Because My Parents Got Married In Mony’s Kitchen

Sometimes, when my roommate, Grace, gets bored—
she turns on her rape whistle and throws it
down the hall.

The only reason I think of that now—as
my mother rides in the quiet of her white
Granprix thinking of nothing but iPhones
and wedding rings—

is because I am sitting in the church parking lot,
refusing to go in, thinking about my father—
and wondering how he lost his scruples
in a war in which he never fought—

and there are all these birds.
Specifically one bird, who sounds an awful
lot like a rape whistle.

And I think that ironic, since birds can fly.

The second bird sounds like
a semiautomatic machine gun:
the kind my father would use in the war
he never fought in, where he would lose his scruples—

the kind my mother would use to pepper
the feet of the woman who buttered
my father’s scruples and ate them on toast.

And, again, I think that ironic that a bird sound
so dangerous—since birds can fly.

And I find it ironic that I write this here,
in holy matrimony, on the day that my parents
prove nothing concocted hurriedly in a kitchen
is ever holy.

And birds are never anything but innocent.

H O U S E S

Mostly dishwashers. These are called K E E P E R S.

http://hattiesburg.craigslist.org/apa/1963324835.html

http://hattiesburg.craigslist.org/apa/1962615491.html

http://hattiesburg.craigslist.org/apa/1961641129.html

http://hattiesburg.craigslist.org/apa/1944217299.html

J O R D A N R E M I N D E D M E

Not For Mary Pollitz

By: Ashlyn Ervin

I can recall times when Mary Pollitz would say we were not friends and mean that she loved me. I guess two years still isn’t enough time or her to verbalize it, though—which only makes her more of an incredible person. There are things better than “I love you,” those things are what hold up these ancient buildings called MSA and these students called artists (or maybe visa versa) these things that can be summed up in hundreds of words that mean “I love you”, but aren’t.

On the last coffee house I bowed to Dr. Lebow. I sat between Mary and Kristi and read beatnik poetry, replacing every profanity I could never say in front of Dr. Lebow with “Cheesepoo” a more appropriate word. On that night I write this. A response to a book I won as a door prize, called Warriors—which I bequeathed upon Coffee, my cat-pack that Amelia made me. And everyone begged him to read a story, and I said that he would write one for next time, only to realize there wouldn’t be one.

I find the fact that I have witnessed the beginning middle (and my end) of literary chapters to be amazing. I met the epilogue (or I guess, to someone else, they might be the prologue) I called them “fetuses”, but meant “incredible”, “lucky”, and I guess, even “love.”

I wrote the fragments of this little ramble in a notebook I misplaced, this notebook held a poem (also buried in old edits and worksheets from Owens—insert appropriate amount of time for applause—old story bits I’d rather stay lost) this poem was a love poem—though I’m sure Mary will argue it was not even a poem (in fact she stated on the poem that it was not a poem) simply a couple of lines about toast, and us not being friends.

It’s only now that there are three weeks of school left that I think about last year and wonder where that excitement went. We get so tired so quickly, and now I wish I had slept, dreamed, written, cried, anything but let the days one by one line up behind me, I sit now with my back against them. Leaned up in front of them like a tired book on a bookend, I relish in feeling them brush against me because today I am sad that they’re gone.

But that’s not who you look at me as, that’s not the face you see in emails, counting down, cheering up people that would rather be home, the very place they left to be here. I wonder if they feel like I do. I’m sure they do. And that, that there, the lingering unknown feeling in the back of your throat when you look up and think that you missed something, when some how the old man with no teeth in front of you is beautiful, when your senior year is something you’re clinging to instead of throwing at the wall like splatter paint, that is love.

And I wonder if that old man thought he would be old. I’m sure it never crossed his wrinkled mind. And I think maybe he was just a book, resting on a beside table. A bookmark in the middle, promised to return—a calendar with one date circled in red, that made all the others look naked. And what was in those days?

I threw fluorescent balloons of water at people, I filled a room with famous models made of paper, I wrote for me and my family and MSA and my great-grandmother and your great-grandmother, I did not graduate every day. So today I think, there is nothing about that day worth waiting for. It is the same as every other day. It is a walk, from one place to another, granted with a silly hat, but still, a walk nonetheless, and me feeling that now, after hundreds of days of waiting. Me finally not minding that everyone sings, not vocals, or talented songbirds, everyone sings, that feeling of nonchalant passiveness, even that is love.

At a loss for words I read over and over the things Mary had to say to me, months after the not friends poem, and here in this book I won at coffee house she says, “I don’t know what, but you are my favorite something,” and after it all, she writes, “If I could say it, I would.” Now I can’t bring myself to tell her she has, that everyone has, the vocals at the bell tower, the visuals in the hall ways, the theaters nowhere because they are the at rehearsal, the literaries, the laptops with folders full of possible poems and first drafts, the Dr. Lebow, all of it that is love. I’m refusing to say good-bye, but “I love you” may slide off my tongue before I know it’s falling. But I hope you catch it, and that you can see it, when you look back, not just in me, but in the cracks of the floors in JI, in the story books that we made for ourselves, in the things we’ve done not what we’ve said, in the days we’ve lived, not the ones we’ve waited for.

Cokes For Lack Of Better Cake

You don’t know it
but you sounded off your birthday
of two decades and two years
with a Coke can popping in the light
of our refrigerator door

and that made me love you more.
And think of the holes in your eyes
where the world seeps through
and translates to your brain
what makes a person a person--
what makes a person good.

It made me fold into your chest,
crumpled as the receipts on the sticky
floorboards of your car

it made me think of eyelids and sleeping
and noises we’ll never know we make

it made me love you.

So I thought of birthdays
the anniversary of the days not spent dying
the astonishment we’ve felt as a civilization for centuries
that we could inhabit the earth for so long

and so I thought of you
tiny, crumpled like me in your chest
dreaming, dying, and I wonder
what woke you up

a sound so quick, as a Coke can pop,
“Not yet.”

What kept you coming back, to have another
today? What can make a person good
except living?

T H I S G I R L

I feel like me and this girl
are pretty similar. I want to
make us the same.

______________________



I feel like me and this girl
are pretty similar. I want to
make us the same.
_______________________



PS: I'm going to see a movie with Tydee.
Machete, Quentin Tarentino FTW.

__________________________________

C O O K I E S & I C E C R E A M

Today I interviewed the general manager of a place in downtown Hattiesburg called: Bianchi's Pizzeria. Originally, I was supposed to be doing a story on a lot of different downtown eateries. But, after going to Bianchi's I realized that pizza just needed way more room to talk.

I called and asked to interview someone (over the phone) about the story and, while talking to him, he asked if I had ever been there. I hadn't, he then proceeded to convince me to come in and S E E the place before I did the story. I could tell, just by the way he was talking and his excitement, that I should.

I got there feeling nervous and unsure of what to do. I was supposed to have a photographer with me but things fell through so I was alone, at night, while the whole world was listening to god speak over Hattiesburg about Seymour and the footballers.

My awkwardness didn't stop Charles from telling me all he could about Bianchi's. He showed me the kitchen, the photos of the family that owned the restaurant. All their freshly-made ingredients and dishes, even how they made their cookies and ice cream.

I was especially impressed by their ice cream and cookies, so I wanted to try some. They use the recipe their grandmother used and her cookie iron! So, anyways, I asked and they G A V E me some. G A V E. I was like, really? (Perks?) And C O K E. It was intense.

I'm really happy things happened this way. I'm excited to finish this story and start my series on downtown eateries. These places have character, they care about their patrons--I don't know if people just aren't aware of that, or they don't care. But, I'm going to tell people. And, if I need to, I'll make them care.

"We want to stay here in downtown Hattiesburg, [because] we want to create jobs to reinvigorate Hattiesburg, and Mississippi... We want to give people a unique pizza experience," Charles general manager of Bianchi's Pizzeria.

B U F F Y C O M I C S A R E N E A T

F R O M C O L L E G E H U M O R

C O L L E G E H U M O R . C O M

I

God: Noah, all the people of earth are sinners. You alone are righteous.

Noah: Thanks God. Long time fan, first time prophet.

God: So, I have decided to smite the entire world with a flood.

(pause)

Noah: Couldn’t you just teach man goodness?

God: No. I’m thinking “flood”.

Noah: So you’d rather just kill every-

God: What part of “flood” do you not understand?

II

God: Moses…I have seen the plight of the Jews in Egypt.

Moses: Wow. Only after, uh, 400 years there, right?

God: Yes.

Moses: Awesome.

God: I will take you out of Egypt after ten terrible, terrible plagues.

Moses: …ten?

God: Is there a problem?

Moses: It’s just…ten is a lot. For, you know, God. Couldn’t you get this done in like, two plagues max?

God: No. For you see Moses, I will harden Pharaoh’s heart against me.

Moses: So…you are going to stop him from letting us free from slavery.

God: Yes.

Moses: So you can bring more terrible, terrible plagues upon the people.

God: Yes.

Moses: And you see nothing wrong with this picture?

God: ...

Moses: Are there any other God’s up there I can talk to?

III

Mary: Did you send the child support?

God: Frankincense and myrrh. Yeah.

Mary Annnnnd?

God: (sighs). And gold. And the gold.

Mary: That’s better.

IV

Job: …

God: Well, this is awkward.

V

God: Abraham, you must circumcise yourself.

Abraham: As you wish, my lord.

God: Oh my Me. He’s totally going to do it.

P A W S B I R T H D A Y

Mony and Paw at Mardi Gras in February _______Actual paw.
_________________________________
My great grandfather just had his 83rd birthday. That's amazing to me. Paw and Mony have meant so much to me throughout my life. I wanted to visit him during the weekend, but things didn't work out.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Paw was one of the first people to convince me to write. I would write books and tape the pages together when I stayed with them, hiding them in the "secret drawer" in the couch. Paw always told me to do my best. And I've always done so because of him.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -- - -

I'm going to start working on some Paw stories so I'll see how that goes and post up some things soon. :3
_________________________________

Happy birthday, Paw. <3

M I N I M A L/W H I T E

N O O N E C A N H E A R M E

My name is Ashlyn Ervin and I'm a Freshen Creative Writing major. I've tried several times to find or obtain an adviser and I just can't seem to do that. I've been to the English department, asked the student relations office, my SOAR says I'm "unassigned" and people have said that I won't have one for a while. I'm not sure what normal protocol is, but I've been having a lot of trouble and no one to talk to and my year has gotten off to a pretty terrible start.

I am in BIO 110. I'm not good in math or science. I talked to the professor (who is actually not who even teaches my class) and they said to contact my adviser because I belonged in a non-science major lab and lecture. I went to the English department and they said to tell the professor. I emailed and called the professor back and got no reply other than I needed to speak to an adviser (which I was told I could not have).

The bad thing about biology was that my labs actually didn't start until the last week that classes could drop and only met once a week. I literally found out I was in the wrong class for me and did everything I knew to do that day. Nothing happened. I'm in a lab and biology class that is over my head.

I had to drop my Spanish class through the student relations office. I'm only at USM because of loans and one of the stipulations (I believe) is that I have to be full-time. I have five classes as of now. One is a lab. I don't know how to calculate how many "hours" that is.

I'm in Math 99. I'm terrible in Math. The reason I'm terrible in math is because my first year of Algebra was taught on a computer program with a facilitator. I am now being taught (and required to take) math on a computer program with facilitator. I know how I learn math. This isn't it. I'd like to take math over the summer perhaps where I can only focus on it and do my best. I'd like to pass math, so far I am not. I don't even understand the schedule of the class, the grading, anything. And I don't have anyone to help me with that.

I am the first person in my family to go to college. I'm paying completely in loans and my family isn't helping me in any way.The two classes I like and understand are History and English. History, however, is a very fast paced and involved class. Dr. Weist has informed us that his tests are also extremely hard. I'll also have to work very hard in this class.

English Comp 101 is the only class I feel confident in. It is my major. It's why I am here. It's what I'm paying money at this institution for. My money. My debt is going towards these classes. Three of which I don't think I should be in. I'm really concerned. I don't feel there's anyone for me to talk to. SOAR is mind boggling to even attempt to use to my advantage in any way other than to check my schedule. I can't drop or add classes because I'm in Math 99. I don't know why.

I feel like I'm paying to fail right now. The books I bought I don't use (mostly), some of my teachers barely teach. I knew nothing about college and came here with the highest expectations. I'm sorry to come to you because you aren't my adviser, but I need someone to advise me. Why am I here? What should I do? How do I do it?

Thank you for your time and I apologize if I've inconvenienced you in any way,
Ashlyn

I N T E R V I E W T I P S F R O M M E R Y L

- Don’t ever ask “yes or no” questions.

- Try not to compound questions (1 question at a time)

- Make sure you know what you’re talking about
* Make sure you prep yourself about the subject

- Write the entirety of the interview (Regardless of whether or not you have a recorder)

- Remember to try to dress properly (According to the occasion/person)

- Don’t feel like you have to have words going all the time
*Silences have a way of making other people feel awkward, make them want to fill the silence

- Make sure you always give them a contact number, if they have more information they can call you

- When you’re starting you should explain exactly what your interview is about
* Make sure your source can be prepared

- Pose awkward questions in a way that makes it seem that you’re trying to pose them in a positive light
* Don’t be accusing with question

- Get on their side, become a vessel for them to present information to the public

- Don’t burn your bridges

Sometimes I just sit in class and marvel at being in college. And then I get scared of nothing. Just thought I'd keep you posted.

STATUS: still, clearly, a teenager.

I W A N T T O S L E E P A N D M A K E O V E R

It may be nerdy to admit but...



I want to have a sleepover.



The really girlie kind where we gossip about everyone.



And cook and eat junk food.

I want to paint my nails and dye my hair.
I want to hang with the most golden girls.

I H A T E H U M A N S

I'm legitimately upset.
This happened first.
Then this.
I don't even understand.
What's happening?

No one has ever bought me flowers;I want that so bad.
HIGHLIGHT ^^

M U S H R O O M P O C K E T

Making this.

















A larger version of this Italian recipe is often called a calzone. Vary the fillings to your families liking and you will win raves at the table.

Ingredients

5-6	medium fresh white Mushrooms	5-6
	(about 3 oz/90g pre-sliced)
1/2 cup	diced green pepper	125 mL
1/4 cup	pre-cooked bacon pieces or pepperoni	50 mL
1/2 cup	pizza or spaghetti sauce	125 mL
3/4 cup	pre-shredded mozzarella or Italian cheese blend	175 mL
1	pkg (10 oz/283 g) refrigerated pizza dough	1
1 tbsp	milk	15 mL
1 tbsp	grated Parmesan cheese	15 mL

Method

1. Clean mushrooms with a damp paper towel or mushroom brush. On the cutting board with the sharp knife trim bottom of stems; coarsely chop the mushrooms to fill 1¼ cups (300 mL).
2. Place the mushrooms, diced green pepper, bacon, pizza sauce and cheese in the bowl; stir to mix well. Preheat oven to 425ºF (220ºC).
3. On a lightly floured counter or cutting board unroll the pizza dough
according to package directions. Roll or press out to 12”(30 cm) x10” (25 cm) rectangle. With sharp knife cut into 4 equal pieces.
4. Using a pastry brush moisten edges of each piece of dough with water. Mound ¼ of mixture onto half of each piece of dough leaving a ½”(1 cm) border. Pull and stretch the other half of dough over the filling and press edges firmly together.
5. Lightly spray a large baking sheet with cooking spray and place pizza pockets about 2”(5 cm) apart on it. With the tines of a fork press edges firmly again to seal and prick a few holes in the top to allow steam to escape.
6. Brush top of pockets with milk and sprinkle with Parmesan cheese.
7. Place baking sheet in middle of oven and bake for 13 –15 min until lightly browned and crisp on top.
8. Using oven mitts remove baking sheet from oven and place on cooling rack for 5 minutes.
9. With sharp knife cut in half diagonally to serve if desired.

Makes 4 pizza pockets

Tip: If rolling dough on a cutting board, place a damp dishcloth under the board to prevent it from moving around.

Variations: Substitute broccoli for green pepper and ham for bacon.

__________________________

Also this.

H I S T O R Y A S C I EN C E

On a more organized note:

School is okay, here--I'll rate things for you (/*****)


___________________
English (Composition 101)
MWF
10-10.50AM
Teacher: Claudia Smith
(writer, published in Norton Anthology, sweet)
(*****/*****)
___________________
History (World Civilization 101)
MWF
11-11.50AM
Teacher: Andrew Weist
(funny man, tells jokes everyday, seating chart)
(****/*****)
___________________
Biology 101
T/T
9.30-10.45AM
Teacher: Beuford (?)
(horrible, boring, sad, whyamihere?)
(0/*****)
___________________
Lab
W
2-4.45 PM
Teacher: John Parr
(some cool people, fish tanks [fun], boring work,
hard homework, boring teacher, I think he's confused
every time he speaks)
(*/*****)
___________________
Math 99
(M-Lecture) (Lab- 3hrs/week)
Teacher: Ryanne McNeese
(O_O, hard, stupid, unnecessary, the devil)
(-1,000/*****)