The Coffee Shop

(I found this amidst my writing.)

A young woman sits in a coffee shop hunched over a notebook, writing. She writes a few sentences, then props her head on her hand and chews on her thumbnail. She stares idly out the window.

The blinds like bars, the barrier between her world and the outside world. She can see out, but those on the outside have to make an effort to see in.

Do they know anything about my world, she wonders.

It is bright outside, almost too bright. There is not a cloud in the sky. Outside there is a McDonalds in view. Cars drive down the street and on the other side of the window people are walking by. A homeless man walks close to the window pushing his shopping cart.

There is no camaraderie on these streets, its everyman for himself (she thinks)

Across the four lane highway couples and other residents can be seen walking placidly down the street. The two sides of the street are like night and day. The far side is seemingly friendly and carefree, while this side of the street is harsher, dilapidated and disparaged.

She turns her head back, still looking out the window to see what’s happening on the corner behind her. Another homeless man walks through her line of view. A fight breaks out on the corner.

She sighs a sigh of relief. Despite the invitingly sunny day, she is relieved to be inside.

She adjusts her focus to two pairs of men walking down the street opposite her, past a vacant lot. There is a sign, Marios. The lot must have been a restaurant at one point. A homeless man walks by.

She leans her head back down and writes some more. She crouches uncomfortably low over her writing. She looks up and watches a very nice car try to Parallel Park next to the coffee shop. It looks out of place. The Car gives up and drives away.

She looks across the table at her friend sitting with her. The friend is intently typing away. She is distracted by a purple cab just beyond her friend. A man hops into it.

The cab drives off to reveal a man standing in the middle of the street as he waits for an opening to cross.

A man rides by on his bike, someone is chasing him.

She grabs her coffee cup and takes a sip. A homeless man walks by.

She writes a little more. She stops and looks around the coffee shop. There are two students at the table opposite her. They are talking about something to do with housing code. They are loud, an easy distraction. She sneezes.

Bless you (says one of them)

At a small round table in the middle of the place is a girl with a pink bandana. She waits impatiently for someone.

News is playing on the television in the background, its Bush.

She sips her coffee and writes something down. Between two blinds she can make out “happy hour” on a sign across the street. She lets the words go in and out of focus. She shakes her head and looks around again.

The impatient girl looks disappointed as she pulls out a little notebook and writes something down. The girl sullenly rests her head on her hand.

Two guys walk by the window. Both are dressed in light pants, dark jackets, blue button up shirts and striped ties. Twins. They get into their Mercedes and drive away.

I wonder what they were doing, she thinks to her self.

The impatient girl has finally left. A guy walks down the street eating churches chicken.

She takes a sip of her coffee.

There is a guy in a white turtleneck waiting for someone. He walks along the curb, up and down the row of meters three times. He stands with his arms folded looking into the oncoming traffic.

He hails a bus.

This isn’t a bus stop, she thinks to her self.

The news is now showing clips from the nation’s most recent massacre.

Media has no morals any more

She grabs for her coffee cup and looks away from the Television. She goes to take a sip. Empty. She walks it to the garbage, packs up her things at the table, and walks out the door.

Bell rings on her way out.

Live, Learn, Love: London

As I boarded the plane, slightly tipsy from sitting in the airport bar, I kept making eyes at the adorable Frenchman sitting down the row from me on the plane. When I say adorable, I mean he had a curly shag hair cut, dressed in a button up shirt, a blazer, jeans and a red scarf. At that moment he was heaven to me, and yet there is something completely magical about a place that makes you feel so at home that time stops.

I got off the plane in London and forgot all about the mystery man I was making googley eyes at. Simply, I was home; I felt home and in that moment nothing else mattered.

There is nothing quite as satisfying as being able to simply take off for a week, disappear and get away. I am new to this whole jet setter thing, but could easily get used to it. As I got away, I joined the ranks of my hostess and her friends: Shakespeare Master’s Students at a prestigious college in London. Clearly I was going to be drinking and philosophizing all week… I better get my game on.

The single best reason to fly international is for the free booze. Truthfully, a couple glasses of wine and a Benadryl will knock you out for enough time to get some rest… I only advise this if you are flying overnight though. I passed out and was ready to rock and roll when I got to London.

This was my 4^th trip to London and quite frankly it was nice to be able to just exist in the city. No papers, no class, no touristy stuff I needed to do, I was able to just experience the culture. People watching is an amazing thing.

My favorite thing about London is how orderly everything is, a place for everything and everything has its place. The underground is easy to understand, everyone walks on their left as they walk down the street. Warning labels are clear. Escalators are easy; it’s so easy to fall in step with them here.

Many days (I say this as if it were some epic journey) were spent in the company of my friend’s friends and classmates. They were all the artsy, fartsy grad student type. To them I was a bit of a goddess… reassuring them that no matter what there are always jobs for English majors. Their lives revolve around stories, no wonder they like the ones who actually partake in story telling for a living. “Being someone’s hero,” for just being me is quite an honor… though why anyone would want me as their hero is another story.

Sadly, no crazy adventures took place. Disappointing, I know. My trip to London should at least include a fleeting romance that lasted only a week, perfect scenario and perfect time of life… blah blah blah. That didn’t happen. The only love affair was between me and the city.

Instead of romance I get a text from this guy I have already rejected twice. I really don’t know how I keep meeting these sad pathetic guys… What do I do? Drink to his stupidity with my friends. For me, I will not find some fleeting love in London; I am already in a long standing affair with the city itself (and Shakespeare, but that is another story).

I won’t lie; I fell in love a little more each time I visit.

Highlights of my trip:

12^th Night- I have seen at least a dozen performances of this play and yet I can’t get enough of it. April and I went to see a stunningly splendid fringe performance of this show. I got pulled up on stage to dance with one of the characters! Go figure, I loose my inhibitions and get up on stage in London.

Road Trip, Bus Style- Since April had never been out of the city and I wanted to take a day trip, we ventured via bus to Stonehenge, Salisbury, and Bath. Words can not begin to describe just how awestruck I was at each location. You can just feel the history as you walk around. I know people always say that Stonehenge is less impressive in person. Let me tell you, it might be smaller than it seems but I’ll be damned if I didn’t get weak at the knees in its presence.

Pubs and the chill drinking culture- My dream come true is a reality every day there, sitting around a pub theorizing on life, love, and Shakespeare while just being.

Meeting Manuela for Tea in Angel- there is nothing quite like being able to meet a fond friend in a foreign land. It’s a sense of home, though tea was brief.

I think I have to concede that my motto still remains: Live London, Learn London, Love London.

The Lion Tamer and the Lion

Sitting on the bus on my way back to NY, I listen to “Free Falling” by Tom Petty. I am reminded of my junior year of college, specifically my spring break trip to Detroit. There were 6 of us, and in many ways it changed our lives forever, mine anyways. At the time we were all wide eyed and optimistic for the road ahead, no fear and eager to change the world. In a way we were all free falling into nothing.

It will never quite be the same. Part of me wants to go back to high school and college, doing everything exactly the same because I want to better retain all I learned. Such unique circumstances yield amazing opportunity for growth. I now look back and feel I might have been trying too hard to experience life and figure things out, but never really learned anything.

Take love for example, I have never really been in love. Now I feel like I’m drowning in a sea of hopeless, dead end dates. There was this guy in college, there is always “this guy in college.” I met him my sophomore year, we hit it off and I let him in. In general I am a person who has to be very sure of herself before I let people in. This was the first time I had ever been so unsure and yet so willing to let the chips fall where they may. I was legitimately falling for this guy and I was okay with it.

One broken heart and two years later, there was a chance we could have gotten together, but I never gave him a clear signal. I was conflicted, and I wasn’t going to let him hurt me again. It was tough; everything was so natural with him, not easy per se, just natural and felt right.

Since then, I have not found anything like it, and so nothing lasts more than three dates. I blame my three date problem on the brutality of the NY dating life. I am sure there is some pseudo psychological tie in, but I’m sorry when I date someone I should be that school girl who is excited about seeing the guy… even a little giddy. Every date I have been on in the past year has been a bust. There was even one time where I walked through a revolving door into Barnes and Noble where I was meeting the guy, saw him standing there, and continued right around, out the door and walked around the block.

That is never a good sign.

These guys are all nice, respectable, and fun; I have always gotten along well with them when I first meet them. There is no spark, though. It takes a spark to make a fire and once I realize that there is no spark (whether or not a further fire starter is needed), I cant waste my time. I can’t stand leading people on, nor can I stand dating just so that I am not alone.

The few sparks that could have gone somewhere have eventually fizzled out because of distance.

I sometimes wonder what if one of these guys was the one, and I over looked him. I can only hope that if that were the case, they would come back when the time was right… otherwise I have lost them to the universe.

Here’s the deal, right now I want someone, something that is open to what could be but is not quick to apply definitions or motives. Several guys I have come across were too eager to jump into a relationship. Call me a coward, tell me I have no reason to hesitate, tell me what you want. Its not going to make me any more likely to jump. Do not try to tame this lion… or at least if you’re going to try to tame me, be sly about it.

Beware the Ides of March

Today was a day like any other, and yet like nothing at all. I started my second week on this new job, still working out of the same Brooklyn offices I worked out of before. The walk to work was no different than it had been before, but it was completely different.

Recently my body is on autopilot as I walk to work, giving my mind time enough to just wander. I know the walk like the back of my hand, no way am I going to lose my way or miss a turn. The only problem is that nothing seems right. It was a grey and dreary day, but its not a new thing. What was up?

Suddenly I was noticing a building with vines crawling up it, apartments that seemed out of place for the street, awnings I didn't know existed, colors that were too bright or too dull, ally ways I had never seen before, and streets that even as I walk straight down them as usual seem unfamiliar. My IPOD played all the songs it tends to neglect. For a brief moment in time I felt out of place but at home all in one go.


Something has to be going awry today. Clearly I must have stepped into some alternate parallel universe, what other explanation is there for suddenly feeling like you don't know where you are anymore? That is aside from the silly existential crises so common to my existence. As soon as I got to the office, I would plan an escape route... or an adventure.

There was of course no need for one. I blame it on the Ides of March, this day always seems to put me in an odd mindset. However, as off as I felt, I welcomed the change in perception. My head is so often left in the clouds pondering this existence that I sometimes forget to notice things around me. I hate that tendency, and yet we all fall victim to this lack of perception.

In a way, that's what the Ides of March is all about. Ceasar failed to notice the displeasure and restlessness of his Senate, which led to his ultimate demise.

"Men at some time are masters of their fates: The fault, dear Brutus, is not in
our stars, But in ourselves, that we are underlings."

I like to think that this particular day is not one of malfortune, but a time to pay attention, to open our eyes, to take action, and to take hold of our own fate. We may not always know what is out there or what it is we are really beginning to understand, but opening our eyes to the world around us is the first step to getting there.

Alternatively, if I am stuck in some parallel dimension, then awareness of the world around me can only help to get me back home.

*I am aware that malfortune is not a dictionary word, but misfortune is not quite what I was going for. When in need of a new word, I say make it up.*

War, Peace and Roommates

Somehow, I find myself in the midst of an apartment war. Battle is at a stand still for the moment. Any attempt I have tried at peace talks has failed; all that is left to do is to wait it out, watch for signs of a potential attack and hope it will all work out in the end.

Funny, the way we end up in situations, wondering how we get there in the first place. Aside from not letting her move in in the first place, was there was anything I could have done to prevent the situation? Probably not.

All in all, she has now indicated intent to move out. When? I have no idea. The only notice I received was in response to an email I sent about rent and bills: “I need the March rent when I move out. I'm not going to give you my rent check this March If I don't move out you can't look for a new roommate so don't worry.”

Not only does this not make sense, but indicates she doesn’t understand her legal obligations to the apartment. She also ignored the fact that she owes me money for bills. Like hell I’m not going to worry.

What do I want in a living situation? All I want is to live peacefully, to communicate like adults and, in an ideal world, be friends. Well, and someone to pay bills on time. She is not that roommate, but I’m stuck because she’s on the lease.

No matter what, I still try to live by the golden rule. This has been a struggle for me. How do you show respect for someone who clearly thinks you’re out to get her, and who tells you how much they hate you every time she confronts you?

You do what you have to do. You live as you normally would, still reaching out if you need to, still trying to not create drama, and (as my mother said) not expecting anything in return. This is a hard, hard, hard thing to do.

Many people have offered advice:

• avoid her all together, communicating only by post its and emails,
• hold her to her actions (if its something she would blow up at you over, return the respect)
• write to her parents with an invoice of what she owes, clearly reminding them of her legal responsibility
• push all her buttons until she goes crazy and either threatens or hits me
• talk to the landlord and get her evicted (this actually takes more violation on her part)

Why won’t any of these actually work? Recent history tells me she either cannot or will not understand simple communication, and she thinks beyond reasonable doubt that I am deliberately screwing with her. Why waste my time contriving plans that won’t produce results, will escalate the situation and will leave me feeling guilty? For my sake, even though it frustrates me how nothing is happening, I need to hold down the fort and wait it out. After all, “If you’re going through hell, keep on moving, don’t slow down, you might get out before the devil even knows you’re there.” At least I have friends and family to help me get through.

If all else fails, I am secure that if it came down to it, I could take her. And if it turns out that she is some weird possessed ghost like in the ring, I always have an escape plan.

Do you ever find your self down a path and not quite sure how you arrived there?

I Want You to Want Me

So last week on How I Met Your Mother, Robin was in a situation after a bad date where the guy never called. It's not that she wanted to go out with him again, but she wanted him to call. She simply wanted him to want her, is there anything wrong with that?

How curious is it to want a guy to want you, even though you don't want him. Well it would be curious if I didn't know exactly the feeling. Last year I had the same thing happen. I went out on a date with this guy; it was okay, but I didn't really care if I saw him again or not. I told my friends that, I even have written proof in my journal saying, "I'd be surprised if he called."

He never did, I was miffed. Then I forgot about it and 4 months later I saw him again. It was in a bar, he was with another girl. He approached me and we talked awkwardly in front of his new girl. I got jealous.

Why do we do this? Do I really expect him to want me after 4 months and a bad date? I never really liked him in the first place, why should he still want me? Maybe it’s the natural desire to want someone to want you.

It might sound absurd, but when I end things its fine. I had my fill; he wanted me and I rejected him. Done and done. When he is the one who rejects me or when it just fizzles out, where is the satisfaction? Where is the allure? More importantly, who wins?

Inevitably, until we find a guy we want to date and mutually wants to date us, its a perpetual game. A game of wanting the ones don't want me and the ones who do, well they scare me away.

Maybe I need to be a little easier on them.