I have some things I need to should do and would like to do this weekend. Let's make a list? Shall we?
1. Take back the ever growing piles of beer/twisted tea/dna/lime tonic/pepsi cans/bottles to the store for refund. It's nice and magical to get 5-cents back even though you get charged that when you buy the beverages. We just try to ignore that so we feel like we're being given money!
2. Read the two library books that are due back on Tuesday. Damn those new book 7 day limits! One is a mystery invovling an Egyptologist (and no, not my favourite Amelia Peabody mysteries either!)
I interrupt this list to happily announce that I FINALLY found some My Life With The Thrill Kill Kult to download! Hoorah! "A Daisy Chain for Satan" is rippling through my speakers right now.
3. Maybe get some laundry done. Now, that's a real pie in the sky dream for this weekend!
4. Go see the "largest fireworks display in Western NY this summer" in Sheridan. However, impending thunderstorms make that very unlikely *listens to rumblings*
5. Exercise. Again, unlikely.
6. Hang out with our friend Chuck who is back in town to manage my boss' campaign.
Well... seems like the only definate thing that will happen is going over to our friend Ashleigh's house around 4. Eating couscous tabbouleh that I made (and it's good!). Who knows what else.
By the way, feel free to email me with any comments or thoughts.
Tuesday, June 26, 2001
Sense of Java, literally...
I inhaled the aroma swirling around in my mug. For a moment... as my music tinkled in the background.. I was back. Sitting by myself at a round table in the corner at Java Joes. Eyeing the door for a familiar face. Music and voices competing with each other. Regular cigarette smoke mingling with the more exotic essence of cloves.
The sweetness of iced coffee. The sugar extra heavy when compared with my usual concoction for Java's coffee. A waitress moves between the tables sullenly. Wiping clean surfaces and then suddenly smiling as she cracks a joke with a friend near by.
I also remember the pain. Knowing that the moment would not last. That this was the only place I could feel like that. All that it symbolized. And the pain of knowing I could never reclaim the past. The exhileration of this place when I was younger. The energy of people. Those moments. A memory. Realizing my age is beginning to exceed most of the patrons. The only irony is that I do still see some of the same servers and one or two familiar visitors on occassion.
A distinct irony is that I now think of the place in its present state. Expanded. I am able to recall a smaller Java Joes. With the roasting room. With Mr. Spock in the roasting room. When the cake case was directly to the left of the order counter. Before Matt Groening's art flowed over the walls, ceiling and support posts. I can even recall what Joe Jr. looked like years ago. A memory of a late afternoon before my violin lesson. His dad and friends getting ready for minor renovations. Playing "Julia" by The Beatles through the sound system for me. I believe I was even writing then. Those were the beginnings of "In Java, literally..."
Amazing the time that has passed since then. The changes.
I inhaled the aroma swirling around in my mug. For a moment... as my music tinkled in the background.. I was back. Sitting by myself at a round table in the corner at Java Joes. Eyeing the door for a familiar face. Music and voices competing with each other. Regular cigarette smoke mingling with the more exotic essence of cloves.
The sweetness of iced coffee. The sugar extra heavy when compared with my usual concoction for Java's coffee. A waitress moves between the tables sullenly. Wiping clean surfaces and then suddenly smiling as she cracks a joke with a friend near by.
I also remember the pain. Knowing that the moment would not last. That this was the only place I could feel like that. All that it symbolized. And the pain of knowing I could never reclaim the past. The exhileration of this place when I was younger. The energy of people. Those moments. A memory. Realizing my age is beginning to exceed most of the patrons. The only irony is that I do still see some of the same servers and one or two familiar visitors on occassion.
A distinct irony is that I now think of the place in its present state. Expanded. I am able to recall a smaller Java Joes. With the roasting room. With Mr. Spock in the roasting room. When the cake case was directly to the left of the order counter. Before Matt Groening's art flowed over the walls, ceiling and support posts. I can even recall what Joe Jr. looked like years ago. A memory of a late afternoon before my violin lesson. His dad and friends getting ready for minor renovations. Playing "Julia" by The Beatles through the sound system for me. I believe I was even writing then. Those were the beginnings of "In Java, literally..."
Amazing the time that has passed since then. The changes.
I can't believe I just settled for ruby red grapefruit juice. Someone rescue me from this utter boredom of office space!!!
It's too terribly hot for coffee... even honest black tea seems a bit much. Peppermint.. mint.. Zen.. refreshing teas. *sighs* I'll settle for my ruby red grapefruit juice for the moment. *listens to Afro-Peruvian music wafting through the room*
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