Indy (the city), Starbuck (the coffeeshop), and Dune (the book)

Here I am in North Indy, at a Starbucks, writing in public on a Mac, sipping a chai. I'm one shot of espresso away from ultimate pretension.

Beth and I are up in Indy for a hematology appointment, blood work, and a free re-do of an MRI. Unfortunately, because of the MRI re-do, we had to be at the hospital at 9 a.m. Which means we had to leave home at 4 a.m. Which meant waking up at 3, except I woke up at 1 and couldn't get back to sleep. Luckily, I brought two Red Bulls and have downed one already (which led to my head quaking from the inside in the MRI waiting room).

Every time we come up here, I wonder why my dad went job hunting in Evansville instead of Indianapolis. I could've had things to do growing up, and I might not be spending my afternoon sitting in a fucking coffee shop typing on my computer. Hell, I might be out of university by now, with a real job, and typing on this computer for WORK. But no, I had to be surrounded by racist rednecks (and yes, they exist in Indianapolis too, but they get shouted down by more people) all my youth. Violent racist rednecks who made it plain that all liberals, nerds, atheists, gays, gay sympathizers, and anyone else different to them should have their ass kicked six ways to Sagittarius. So when I started noticing I didn't agree with them, I started being quiet, and withdrew into the internet.

I'm not complaining, really, because if it wasn't for the internet I wouldn't have my fiancée. I also would never have found out exactly which form of that word to use, and how it is spelled, and which way the accent goes. I really can't complain too much, h-uh?

On the way up here, I listened to some more of the audiobook of Dune. I've never read Dune before now, and honestly, it was because it's hard as hell to get into. Plus, Tatooine was my least favorite planet in Star Wars, and it pissed me off that they went back to it four times after the original film, so a book about events that transpire almost exclusively on a desert planet sounded fucking awful to me. I am once again happy to eat humble pie, because I'm really enjoying this book. I suddenly get a bunch more jokes from Questionable Content (mostly in the archive at this point), I get a bunch more in-jokes from all facets of pop culture, and I'm really enjoying the story to boot. Someone please remind me if I ever again say, "I don't care about (x classic sci-fi novel)," that I am a fucknugget and should read the thing anyway.