I’m sitting at Starbucks providing moral support for MJ while she tries to finish grading before she goes back to school on Monday, and trying to figure out what to write about. It’s January 2nd and I’ve got writer’s block. I don’t want to write about dinner last night, even though I said I would. I missed the moment and it’s not fresh anymore. I enjoyed everything, but just like the pork medallions, what I write today would be missing the magic. Instead, I’m going to write about what’s going on around me right now. MJ’s a little upset because all of my music is on her iPod. She’s never set up a bunch of playlists because all of her music sounds the same, so she just hits shuffle. My rich and diverse collection throws a wrench into the works. Everything will be going along swimmingly for her with songs popping up from a bunch of whiny chicks like Sarah McLaughlin and Brett Dennen and Jack Johnson when all of a sudden the subtle, nuanced, dulcet tones of Slayer will grace her earphones. I guess it’s like going from an iceberg lettuce wedge with a side of milquetoast to a plate full of habeñero peppers in a habeñero pepper reduction gravy. The change is drastic and apparently unpleasant when it’s unexpected. I can’t really blame her, now that I think about it, because if the situation was reversed there’s a good chance I would throw the iPod on the ground and stomp on it until it was dead. I feel kind of bad about my music taking up space on her machine, it’s still funny though. I noticed a ginger chick running in a tanktop and running shorts. It’s cold outside and her skin was bright red. I hope this wasn’t day one of a New Year’s resolution because she looked like she was freezing, and I doubt there will be a day two. I saw a group of young single people walking into Memorial Park. They looked like they were in their late twenties. The three chicks all had on high heeled boots, and the three guys dressed in different interpretations of post-college cool. Basically, the women were wearing uncomfortable shoes and the men had dressed themselves. That’s how I came up with my late twenties singles guess. There was none of that last night at the Maggianos table. Everyone was wearing comfortable shoes and no one was trying to be cool. I had a twinge of envy watching the young group at the start of a date night. I think they call it Saturday. The twinge passed almost instantly and was replaced with “Thank God I Don’t Have to Do That Anymore”. I’m happy sitting in a coffeehouse at 5:30 on a Saturday evening, making superficial observations, with the knowledge that my post is done for the day, and I can be in bed by 9.
The other site is up but it's under construction. I'm double posting until I get everything the way I want it.
4 comments:
Good title. I'm happy that you're happy sitting with me at Starbucks. I have 40 essays left. Thanks for the company.
I liked this observation: "Basically, the women were wearing uncomfortable shoes and the men had dressed themselves." However, some high heeled boots are comfortable (and warmer) and some married men get back to dressing themselves once their wives decide it's too much work to dress two (or three or four ) people. Still, I saw them and agree with your age profile.
PS--I visited the other site and I've got some reservations but we'll see.
Long comment. You can tell I have grading to do.
Actually, I had high heel boots on at Maggianos (Not a lot of walking at that restaurant...)
I agree with the relief in not needing to impress anyone, unless I feel like it. Besides, flannel is much better than spandex.
I really liked that you couldn't think of anything to write and you just kept on writing and the process just thought-jacked you to a theme. It shows how much you trust the eventual kung-fu grip of writing.
I am so happy that you are still affording us the opportunity to get inside your head every day.
Sometimes it's a little strange in there, but it's always interesting.
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