eighty.nine.

what a long day[s]. 

i like a good bonfire underneath the stars, though. 

& a nice back massage from nora.

another long day tomorrow. last show of Mulan that i've been helping out with/babysitting kiddies. then move-out and grad parties. 

question: why is everyone getting so old and graduating?

sometimes i think: i should play the piano more often. wouldn't that be nice?

these last two weeks before camp are going to be craziness. i didn't think there would be a lot to do, but really, there is. 

buy a watch, for one. shoot.

also, fix my CAR. shoot.

exactly two weeks from this moment i'll be sleeping in a bunk in the U.P.

that's nice to think of.

p.s. did i ever mention that i finished life of pi? because i did. and i was happy that i did. 

p.s.s. did i mention that i've done a terrible job of running these last two weeks? because i have. i fail.

eighty.eight.

i've been feeling a little vulnerable lately.
or maybe bottled or maybe solitary.
or maybe lonely.
or maybe
hopeful.
or maybe
not.

[i'm saying it again.] i love the people who come into the coffee shop.
some of them are so quick to share stories.
you know?
they just desire this connection with someone, they just want to tell someone their story.
most often it's something sad.
but even those sad things are sweet, in a strange way.
you know?
a man came in who works at the hospital and told us about how a 15 year old girl and her 16 year old boyfriend tried to deliver their baby at home. the baby had complications and when the medics arrived they couldn't revive it.
Bill, a frequent customer, came in and ordered his tea and told us he has lymphoma. he just started treatments.
A woman came in and signed a forget-me-not for her best friend, Billy, who was just admitted to a nursing home and is in the more serious stages of Alzheimer's.
These three stories came in within hours of each other, yesterday morning. it's so interesting how people long for other people to know and seek to care about them. i wish i could explain this more, because it doesn't seem all that interesting when i write it out, but in that moment it really just stops me.
you know?

later on yesterday, i locked my keys in my car and [foolishly] called the cops. in the process of trying to open my doors he broke two locks [the two front doors], and left his slim jim sticking into the window of my back right window. he couldn't get it out, and he never got the doors unlocked. he left me standing in the rain & waiting for my mother to come with the extra keys. the back left door was originally broken. so now, in order to drive, i have to climb in the back right door and over to the drivers seat.
thank you, police officer.
it's all ok, though. my car still drives. gets me from point A to point B.

this morning i had some Enchanted Forest sweet almond tea with some steamed soymilk while listening to She & Him. What an excellent time.
I like Rachael Yamagata.
And the poem "Dover Beach."
I like the loveliness of the song "Unplayed Piano"

I've decided.
I'm going to stick with vulnerable.
& that's that.
[with a little bit hopeful.
always.always.hopeful.]

eighty.seven.

wrote this bit on a receipt slip at work. we were unbelievably slow.

Is it lame that I sort of enjoy the sappy sweet sadness of "You could be happy" by Snow Patrol?
We have 4 customers in the shop now, sitting down & enjoying free wi-fi or pleasant company.
One man who came in lost, needed directions.
A couple who comes in every once in a while & always orders 4 apple cinnamon walnut scones: 2 to eat in house and 2 to bring home for later. She drives a school bus & he meets her here. She's a very expressive talker.
There's also a man that's been sitting here for a while. He's a newer regular, the large Earl Grey tea guy. He was happy I remembered him & his order this morning, so he tipped a dollar. He's set up at his table with his computer. He spends half his time typing & the other half staring out the window. Uusually he doesn't stare so much. I wonder what he's thinking about.
Alex and his wife [the scone couple] gave a dollar for tip and a dollar for Alzheimers.
The next lady who walked in the door, the lady who will always be remembered as Decaf w/ cream who left a mess in the bathroom [wouldn't you hate to be remembered for that? but we can't help it, that's who she is.], she also gave a dollar for Alzheimers.
But you could tell that she didn't really care either way and just felt bad saying no with all of the signed Forget-me-not flowers staring her in the face, names of those people who had been generous before her. So she said yes and scrawled her name on a Forget-me-not too.
The tray that holds the bagels just fell & made me jump out of my skin.

My mom was looking up quilts on ebay yesterday. I love quilts. I think when I have my own house I will have a thousand quilts, draped everywhere. & i will read Real Simple magazine all the time.

eighty.six.

to read - the short list:

A Man Without a Country

East of Eden [again]

To Kill a Mockingbird

The Sun Also Rises

Forest Gump

On the Road

just finished:

The Hobbit

still working on:

Sophies World

I think it might be unreasonable to try and tackle them all this summer, but I'm going to give it my best shot.

sometimes, at work, i try and imagine the kinds of things that customers would send in to Post Secret. i'm way too invested in the lives of people i don't know. or creating imaginary lives for them. we're supporting the Alzheimer's Association this month, and sometimes people get really sad when they leave a dollar. One lady told me about how her father had Alzheimer's, and a different lady talked about her mom. It's so sad, but at the same time I really enjoy being able to talk to these strangers for a moment or two. You learn so much.

only 25 days. it's practically nothing at all. granted, the last three weeks have been difficult because we've had basically no communication besides infrequent, short, garbled phone conversations with bad connections. only once, when curt climbed to the top of the communications tower to make a call did we have a good connection. but now they've done some work to the lines and two days ago we had a perfectly normal phone conversation & it was lovely.

sometimes i feel like a djembe. this is important.

the day is lovely out and peeking through my window. must dash out and get some good sun. i hope you find some time to do the same. 

eighty.five.

i ate so terribly today. 

first bad move: i didn't eat anything until 1, after being up since 6. then i ate a bagel [we were really busy at work getting ready for some kind of mixer for the chamber of commerce.]. 

second bad move: so hungry for anything & since i was driving, i opted to skip the salad and eat a hot dog with fries instead. thank you portillos.

third bad move: tai and i stopped for ice cream from culvers on the way home. i got bananas on mine to make myself feel better. fruit!

fourth bad move: i came in and discovered my mom had made fresh cookies. thanks mom.

there is this guy who has come into the coffeehouse several times since i've started working there. the first time he came in, he told me that he wanted to twirl fire sticks in the parking lot as part of an arts show that we host every month. he said that it shouldn't be a problem because they are pretty safe, and no one would get in trouble as long as the cops didn't drive by for a few minutes.

the next time i saw him he came in and bashed the coffeehouse. my work kind of has the reputation of being a sort of indie coffee place, just because it doesn't take much to be considered indie in these parts. use some cups made from plants, be locally owned, play some indie music [occasionally mixed with motown], and boom. People feel good about stopping, they think they're saving the planet with their morning skim latte. SO, back to the story, this guy comes in and tells us we are not green at all, but are in fact ruining the planet by offering pre-packaged sugar. real sweetheart. 

then he came in today with sad news: it's his last time in. he leaves next week for colorado or something. he's going to smoke some joints and talk to this guy about making a "sustainable community." he then began to tell me how he plans to package his bulk grain and beans while he travels.

so basically, he's hardcore. we'll miss the crazy fire dancer guy. 

almost 38 days until i see the fellow again. communication so far has been pretty limited to long voicemail messages and the occasional quick phone conversation [once when i was half-asleep and once in the middle of the new X-men movie.].

i just sneezed a gargantuan sneeze & feel much better.

also, i think it's funny how differently people sneeze.