Ode to the Coffee Shop

I went to my usual coffee place today and decided to scribble down a few thoughts about it. I'm there about once a week writing and working:
My blue cotton scarf looks so vibrant draped across the the rich, cherry wood chair illuminated by a beam of white winter sun pouring in the window. It's warm today, but the sun isn't spring sun quite yet.
There is an incessant hiss and whir of the heater and the coffee makers-- the fruits of which leave a smokey, bitter taste on my tongue. Stirring spoons clatter against metal cups and then drip through the frothed milk on the lattes. It's a cacophony in the quiet shop.
Everyone here knows me by face, if not name. It is a cliche, but it makes an odd sort of sense. When a writer needs a haven that home cannot provide; where else is there to go? It's to the coffee house where you can sit among the din of music and conversation, sipping at the biting, but pleasurable hot drinks and working uninterrupted. It's my natural habitat, the paper coffee cups, the bagels, the endearing young staff, the public solitude.
It's an out of the way, indie place, that I might just dedicate my first book to. Enough of it has been drafted between these walls. I owe them for their shelter, their inexpensive high quality stimulant beverages, and their tolerance for letting me make a two hour drink last all afternoon with my books spread across their table tops; me staring into space, sighing, and inventing characters based off the other customers. So, here's to Patrick, Samantha, Jeremiah, and the rest of the staff who are unwittingly helping me on my way to becoming a novelist. Starbucks can just go jump in a lake.

The writing saga

I'm on Easter break through Monday and I have things I just need to get done. I have to finish my nature essay/memoir for my non-fiction class, I have to work on the final paper for my Hitchcock class, and I have to get things in order to start working as a freelancer over the summer.
I could not stay in my house today due to a particularly vicious altercation with a sibling earlier in the week. To write I need a bit of peace and an area where I can focus. Of course, after some deliberation, I decided to go to the organic coffee bar I posted about last month. I saw visions of myself sipping Jamaica Me Crazy while tucked into a corner table churning out masterpieces. My plan was to spend several hours there and get some revisions done on my novel as well.
They were closed for Good Friday.
I bought some ginger snaps at the whole food store that sits just behind them and decided that as long as I didn't get arrested for loitering, I would sit out on their porch and work. Though it's almost May, the day was damp and windy. After about a half an hour I had to depart. Still too early to go home without risking a run-in with my overly emotional brother, I wandered around the whole foods store for a bit, then went to look at herbs at a local nursery.
A thought struck me-- the town library of course, that would be a perfect place to work. Except that it was also closed for Good Friday.
Finally, tired and hungry, and still feeling chilled, I ended up at a nearby deli where I had a turkey wrap and did some reading. My head was aching, so in spite of my brother still being home I went back home and took a nap.
It completely slipped my mind that today was a holiday. I got very little work done.

My new writing home

My brother lives about ten minutes away from this fantastic coffee bar. It serves mainly organic and fair trade blends as well as local dairy and baked goods. Attached to the back is whole foods store. The whole place is full of old furniture, black and white photographs, cosy corners. I'm basically in love.
Today I took my friend Amy, also a writer. She's actually published the first book of her series of pirate stories and is working on putting the rest out now. We sat by the windows and tried several varieties of their coffee (Highlander Grogg is my favorite, she is partial to Rain Forest Crunch), talked about ideas, looked at the beautiful skies; it was perfect.
We've decided to make it a weekly thing to go sit and write. We're swapping manuscripts next week as well.
Even better, it's tucked away on a small country road, so the ride there is beautiful and it's not noisy or over-crowded like a Starbucks.
As we were leaving, I saw that they had ginger beer. I brought a bottle home, as well as a bag of Highlander Grogg.
Some of the greatest artistic minds have been meeting in coffee houses for hundreds of years. Atmosphere is so important, but I think Amy and I have finally found our spot. We both agreed that we felt utterly content afterwards and it was as if our mental mechanism had been lubricated for creativity.
I will, no doubt, drag my computer there during Script Frenzy.

Wonderful and Strange: My Day Out

I had a crappy night last night, so my friend Amy suggested a small adventure today before I went to work. Simply for coffee and then to the book store (where inevitably, my caffine addict companion had another coffee). It cheered me up greatly and salvaged what could have been an utterly desolate day. I couldn't even go to the archery range this morning and work off my righteous anger... anyway...
There are many wonderful and strange things to behold on any trip out no matter how mundane and today was no different.
While waiting for my coffee I saw a woman with a hoard of small children. One little girl broke away from the other children and started noisily kissing an advertisement for the Star Wars Clone Wars cartoon, but that was not the strange part, the oddest element was that she was kissing a picture of Yoda. He is my favorite trickster, but unusual as the object of a little girl's first crush. It made me laugh and I very much enjoyed watching them- especially when their mother realized one of her children was kissing some random item in a public place.
Then at the book store, I saw a woman wearing the most spectacular eye patch I have ever seen. It was covered in a series of small rainbow metallic sparkles. She could rule the high seas if she wanted. Yes, it is unfortunate that she is in need of an eye patch, but she is embracing it and not taking herself too seriously.
Also, at work tonight I saw a man that looks like Mark Twain. That makes this a *Famous Dead Guy Spotting* a rare and monumental occasion.
Not a bad start to October. In spite of the fact that I didn't achieve any of my reading goals for September, I'm not going to beat myself up about it. I'm taking three literature classes, all of which I have alot of readings for- I had to read two Shakespeare plays I have no previous experience with this past month, All's Well That Ends Well and Troilus and Cressida. Both very fascinating by the way. I have few occassions to pleasure read coming up and I intend to finish Sons and Lovers very soon.

Book Tech: Hot Man Edition

Oh, and a little Happy November gift for all the ladies:
www.cartenoire.co.uk (sorry, but I can't get the link button to work lately, so copy and paste in your address bar)
Fantastic British actors Dominic West, Greg Wise, and Dan Stevens read excerpts of classic and more contemporary novels so you can enjoy a "more seductive coffee break". Or, as I call it: Bedtime Stories! I imagine if I ever married a charming British man with a nice speaking voice, I would have him read me excerpts of classic novels whenever I couldn't sleep. Until then, for my insomnia and yours, enjoy!