A girl, mid-midtwenties with light brown hair tied back in a pony tail, sits writing in a coffee shop. She seems quite focused, having not noticed her coffee for the past fifteen minutes as she works on her writing. Periodically she looks up and around to gather her thoughts, then puts her nose back to the grindstone.
Her papers are spread everywhere. Fortunately for her she had won this table fair and square, through careful planning and a little luck. It was all hers.
Quite suddenly though a man sits down opposite her, tossing his Coach and PINK shopping bags in a free corner of the table. He pulls the chair out so he is facing the coffee bar, not her, as he rests his Iced Latte cup on the table.
The condensation drips down his cup, on to the table and creeps towards her papers. She hastens to move her work, the last thing she wants is water wrinkled paper. Her actions go unnoticed and she glares at the disruptive ma as she takes a long sip of her forgotten coffee.
The nerve of that man. How dare he invade her work space. She would have no problem with it had he simply asked if she minded him sitting down for a moment, but the fact that he has clearly invaded her personal space with out consideration really bothers her. The man is probably on his way home after a long morning of shopping as stores she can't even dream of being able to afford right now. Just because he can be that guy, doesn't me he has the right to just take over anyone's personal space. Okay so it might be a public area, but still she won the talbe fair and square twenty minutes earlier. Now she can't get herself back on track.
He shakes ice in the bottom of his cup around, trying to mix the water with coffee just so. She glares at him again. Has he no respect?
She, with out looking, reaches for her coffee accidentally knocking it over. The cup is recovered but not before a considerable amount spills out. Her first instinct is to again pull her papers out of the way. She looks up and notices the man jump up, the coffee has made its way into his lap. She looks at him innocently and shrugs as she slides her stack of napkins in his direction, looking down again at her writing.
She didn't to spill coffee on him, but now maybe next time he will ask before imposing himself on some stranger.
29 July 2009
19 July 2009
Stroke of Lightening
Clouds began to roll in as I lay out on the beach. The waves get rougher and rougher while the wind starts to pick up. I had been reading journals I kept in college, not living in the past, just trying to understand a few things that had come back into light lately. In all the time I was out on the beach, I made little progress. I just sunk deeper and deeper into a mess that perhaps should have been cleaned up a while ago, and confused when, while in the process of that, I uncovered some other question.
Of course that is how it always happens.
I more than welcomed the towering grey storm clouds that drove me away from the beach. After packing up my things, I walked over to the shore line and stood at the edge playing a cat and mouse game with the waves rolling in. I love the way the ocean appears to extend until forever, so many possibilities if only I could find a way to reach them. Sometimes I want to just hop on a sailboat and ride the wind to just see where it takes me.
I turn and head back, retrieve my things and head to my car.
I take back roads the whole way, in my mind that is the only way to travel in Virginia Beach. Nothing but grey skies and the tree line in front of me. The area changes so much every time I come back and yet I can always find a route that reminds me of a small town instead of sprawling suburbia.
The sky was a dark, deep blue-grey. The shade of grey just before it's about to storm. Someone once told me that grey was their favorite color, because they simply could find anything more beautiful than the sky before the storm. Likewise, my favorite color is blue because of the sky just after the sun has set but before the darkness has set in, twilight. Lightening begins to dance across the sky. I am mesmerized, I had forgotten how beautiful the summer sky was when illuminated by bolts of lightening.
How simple the beauty of summer, and how romantic the idea of a summer storm. The long hazy days of the beach can just be washed away by an unexpected rain storm and replaced by a cool, humid evening. You're never quite sure whether it will rain again; but as the sun creeps through the clouds just before sunset, you look to the sky in awe and with out a care. The brilliance of a summer sunset is equal to that of a winter sunrise in my opinion. Neither can be quite compared to anything else.
What does all of this mean? I don't know. Summer lightening storms make me feel a sense of renewal, the feeling that rolls in and takes you by surprise. It completely washes over to make you feel anew. This time was a bit more complex. I am left with the oddest sunburn I could have possibly gotten from laying on the beach and a lot of things to think about as I head back to New York.
Of course that is how it always happens.
I more than welcomed the towering grey storm clouds that drove me away from the beach. After packing up my things, I walked over to the shore line and stood at the edge playing a cat and mouse game with the waves rolling in. I love the way the ocean appears to extend until forever, so many possibilities if only I could find a way to reach them. Sometimes I want to just hop on a sailboat and ride the wind to just see where it takes me.
I turn and head back, retrieve my things and head to my car.
I take back roads the whole way, in my mind that is the only way to travel in Virginia Beach. Nothing but grey skies and the tree line in front of me. The area changes so much every time I come back and yet I can always find a route that reminds me of a small town instead of sprawling suburbia.
The sky was a dark, deep blue-grey. The shade of grey just before it's about to storm. Someone once told me that grey was their favorite color, because they simply could find anything more beautiful than the sky before the storm. Likewise, my favorite color is blue because of the sky just after the sun has set but before the darkness has set in, twilight. Lightening begins to dance across the sky. I am mesmerized, I had forgotten how beautiful the summer sky was when illuminated by bolts of lightening.
How simple the beauty of summer, and how romantic the idea of a summer storm. The long hazy days of the beach can just be washed away by an unexpected rain storm and replaced by a cool, humid evening. You're never quite sure whether it will rain again; but as the sun creeps through the clouds just before sunset, you look to the sky in awe and with out a care. The brilliance of a summer sunset is equal to that of a winter sunrise in my opinion. Neither can be quite compared to anything else.
What does all of this mean? I don't know. Summer lightening storms make me feel a sense of renewal, the feeling that rolls in and takes you by surprise. It completely washes over to make you feel anew. This time was a bit more complex. I am left with the oddest sunburn I could have possibly gotten from laying on the beach and a lot of things to think about as I head back to New York.
07 July 2009
A Midsummer's Night Dream
The title might be misleading, and stolen, but for me it was a dream come true.
As I believe I have mentioned before, I have a bit of a running love affair with Shakespeare. For this reason, I am compelled to go see every version of every play I am able to do. My favorites were in college, I was half an hour (or less) from the Black Friar's theatre, which housed the Shenandoah Shakespeare Company. Since I've moved on, I haven't been as fortunate to be able to see shows as frequently, but New York does have the wonderful Shakespeare in the Park every summer. Even better, its free. This year they were showing the Twelfth Night, which if you don't know is my favorite of the comedies. Between movie and stage versions, I have seen it at least a dozen times and read it at least 50 times more. There is something amazingly enchanting about this show for me.
The weather in New York recently has been absurdly chaotic. No matter what the weather man says, you have to be prepared for literally for rain or shine at all times. When I left to camp out for six hours for my Shakespeare tickets, I was ready to withstand a hurricane in order to get my tickets. Nothing was going to prevent me from getting them as it was the one thing I was looking forward to this summer. Needless to say, getting there at 6:30 in the morning, I got the tickets.
The day it self reminded me of the many summer days from Virginia Beach. Summers, to me, are characterized by long, hot, humid days. The days it doesn't rain, you wish it did. When it does rain, half the time its refreshing and half the time it becomes more miserable than it was before. As a result, there was no complaining about the weather. I mean you could, but there was no use, you might as well make the most of your time. So many of these days happened, of course, when we were going to Busch Gardens. Those were in fact the best days to go because you could get front row on all the roller coasters since no one was there. I didn't get front row at Shakespeare, there were people more crazy than I.
My day was spent, inside and outside. As the rain picked up, I popped into stores or restaurants and when it ceased I continued with my daily missions. This is after I get my tickets. Like I said, it reminded me of the days I would spend at Busch Gardens: slightly water logged, but still trucking through. After a while you give up worrying about weather you are dry or wet and just roll with it. Like so many of the days, the weather cleared up and I sat in a cool open air theatre watching the show I was there for. As the sun set and slowly faded into darkness, I knew that the night was the perfect night for me.
The show it self was magical. Personally, I don't think I have seen a better rendition of this show. (I don't know what that says about the interpretations I have seen) For the first time I actually saw just how each couple really fell and how it was possible for each to be enchanted so quickly. Most the times when I see this show, parts stand out and parts are lost. I really feel like most nails were hit directly on the head in this version. For the first time ever I saw a true character in Sebastian, who though he has a later appearance still needs to clearly fall and not just be whisked away by the allure of a strange new place. I don't think I can even begin to describe how impressed I was with Anne Hathaway's Viola, but I will save you from having to listen to me ramble on and on and on about the play. If this says anything though, I was so mystified with the show opening that I had tears in my eyes. It was the most interesting opening I have seen and I felt really set Orsino off on a different foot, when normally I find his character a little bratty.
I get flutters in my heart just thinking about it and, if I could see it every day I am not sure I would be bored with it. If this is what love feels like, I want to fall in love and never fall out again.
As I believe I have mentioned before, I have a bit of a running love affair with Shakespeare. For this reason, I am compelled to go see every version of every play I am able to do. My favorites were in college, I was half an hour (or less) from the Black Friar's theatre, which housed the Shenandoah Shakespeare Company. Since I've moved on, I haven't been as fortunate to be able to see shows as frequently, but New York does have the wonderful Shakespeare in the Park every summer. Even better, its free. This year they were showing the Twelfth Night, which if you don't know is my favorite of the comedies. Between movie and stage versions, I have seen it at least a dozen times and read it at least 50 times more. There is something amazingly enchanting about this show for me.
The weather in New York recently has been absurdly chaotic. No matter what the weather man says, you have to be prepared for literally for rain or shine at all times. When I left to camp out for six hours for my Shakespeare tickets, I was ready to withstand a hurricane in order to get my tickets. Nothing was going to prevent me from getting them as it was the one thing I was looking forward to this summer. Needless to say, getting there at 6:30 in the morning, I got the tickets.
The day it self reminded me of the many summer days from Virginia Beach. Summers, to me, are characterized by long, hot, humid days. The days it doesn't rain, you wish it did. When it does rain, half the time its refreshing and half the time it becomes more miserable than it was before. As a result, there was no complaining about the weather. I mean you could, but there was no use, you might as well make the most of your time. So many of these days happened, of course, when we were going to Busch Gardens. Those were in fact the best days to go because you could get front row on all the roller coasters since no one was there. I didn't get front row at Shakespeare, there were people more crazy than I.
My day was spent, inside and outside. As the rain picked up, I popped into stores or restaurants and when it ceased I continued with my daily missions. This is after I get my tickets. Like I said, it reminded me of the days I would spend at Busch Gardens: slightly water logged, but still trucking through. After a while you give up worrying about weather you are dry or wet and just roll with it. Like so many of the days, the weather cleared up and I sat in a cool open air theatre watching the show I was there for. As the sun set and slowly faded into darkness, I knew that the night was the perfect night for me.
The show it self was magical. Personally, I don't think I have seen a better rendition of this show. (I don't know what that says about the interpretations I have seen) For the first time I actually saw just how each couple really fell and how it was possible for each to be enchanted so quickly. Most the times when I see this show, parts stand out and parts are lost. I really feel like most nails were hit directly on the head in this version. For the first time ever I saw a true character in Sebastian, who though he has a later appearance still needs to clearly fall and not just be whisked away by the allure of a strange new place. I don't think I can even begin to describe how impressed I was with Anne Hathaway's Viola, but I will save you from having to listen to me ramble on and on and on about the play. If this says anything though, I was so mystified with the show opening that I had tears in my eyes. It was the most interesting opening I have seen and I felt really set Orsino off on a different foot, when normally I find his character a little bratty.
I get flutters in my heart just thinking about it and, if I could see it every day I am not sure I would be bored with it. If this is what love feels like, I want to fall in love and never fall out again.
01 July 2009
Flash Forward
Until three days ago I had always considered flashback moments in TV sitcoms to be a mere space filler at those points in the season where they aren't quite ready to develop some new story, while in the midst of a big one. Just an episode with no real plot to take up time. As my world is about to change though, I realize that life is full of these moments. They often happen when reconnecting with old friends, on the brink of some big event, or when things come to an end.
My roommate an I spent an hour reminiscing over our first few weeks in the apartment. It was just me and her while our third moved in slowly over the month. We laughed about how we had a mattress act as our couch for a good 5 months before we finally got one, that mattress was great for when we just were too tired to make it to our own rooms. Smiled, when we thought about how we kinda camped for the first week, using disposable silverware and plates. Discussed how freeing it was before our 3rd came in, realized we didn't have a shower curtain up yet and said "uhhh, that's not cool." I honestly think everyone, at some point should try not having a shower curtain. We each rearranged our rooms at least a half dozen times, and yet we never decorated our living room. When we had a rat under the sink, until our super could patch up the hole, we thought it was a good idea to clear everything out from under the sink, leave out rat poison, and tape the doors shut. Like packing tape was going to keep a rat out.
Were we in a sitcom, each moment would be followed by a clip from that respective episode. Life would be shown not just told.
After a while it seems as if we can reduce life to living, making memories, and reminiscing about them. Sometimes we seem to get too caught up in our own world to really take time to acknowledge the memories we have made, and they become lost in the abyss of the world. Its not so much that we live in the past, or have to; its more looking back to a more innocent time and seeing how far we have some. Its like we cant grow with out them.
Every so often I go back to read old journals. Most are filled with trite about the woes of my many, many crushes or the trials of friends. The things we thought important at the time. Then I see old friends and remember the time differently.
Our memories make up our past, our past makes us who we are. All unique and beautiful in our own way. Moments help to define where our future will take us.
The real life flashback moments don't happen, as I suspected with TV, to fill up time or when we have nothing more to say to each other. They often take up time that we should be doing other things, but again get caught up in a moment. Instead, they occur at critical moments of change so that we can see where we once were, that we survived and that we are now ready to move on.
No matter how well you now get along, or don't get along, these times are shared and you will always have that. Until the end of time, my first two years in New York were spent living with Lauren and Anna, just as my time in Detroit had characters and every time before that. We might part, but for the time being we helped each other grow. Its never clear why people enter our lives or why they leave, we just have to live and know that once we have parted ways for their influence we will never quite be the same as we were before.
My roommate an I spent an hour reminiscing over our first few weeks in the apartment. It was just me and her while our third moved in slowly over the month. We laughed about how we had a mattress act as our couch for a good 5 months before we finally got one, that mattress was great for when we just were too tired to make it to our own rooms. Smiled, when we thought about how we kinda camped for the first week, using disposable silverware and plates. Discussed how freeing it was before our 3rd came in, realized we didn't have a shower curtain up yet and said "uhhh, that's not cool." I honestly think everyone, at some point should try not having a shower curtain. We each rearranged our rooms at least a half dozen times, and yet we never decorated our living room. When we had a rat under the sink, until our super could patch up the hole, we thought it was a good idea to clear everything out from under the sink, leave out rat poison, and tape the doors shut. Like packing tape was going to keep a rat out.
Were we in a sitcom, each moment would be followed by a clip from that respective episode. Life would be shown not just told.
After a while it seems as if we can reduce life to living, making memories, and reminiscing about them. Sometimes we seem to get too caught up in our own world to really take time to acknowledge the memories we have made, and they become lost in the abyss of the world. Its not so much that we live in the past, or have to; its more looking back to a more innocent time and seeing how far we have some. Its like we cant grow with out them.
Every so often I go back to read old journals. Most are filled with trite about the woes of my many, many crushes or the trials of friends. The things we thought important at the time. Then I see old friends and remember the time differently.
Our memories make up our past, our past makes us who we are. All unique and beautiful in our own way. Moments help to define where our future will take us.
The real life flashback moments don't happen, as I suspected with TV, to fill up time or when we have nothing more to say to each other. They often take up time that we should be doing other things, but again get caught up in a moment. Instead, they occur at critical moments of change so that we can see where we once were, that we survived and that we are now ready to move on.
No matter how well you now get along, or don't get along, these times are shared and you will always have that. Until the end of time, my first two years in New York were spent living with Lauren and Anna, just as my time in Detroit had characters and every time before that. We might part, but for the time being we helped each other grow. Its never clear why people enter our lives or why they leave, we just have to live and know that once we have parted ways for their influence we will never quite be the same as we were before.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)