Writing in Public

This morning I decided that I needed to write, and I can never write at home. I need to be around people who aren't paying attention to me, in a chair that's mostly comfortable but certainly un-slump-able, so I went to a café. This particular café had a special today, so I could get both a coffee and a chocolate croissant, and it's also got windows which let in the perfect amount of light on an overcast day like today.

I've been going on lots of errands instead of writing. Errands, if I'm honest, are not so bad. I enjoy going on everyday quests to accomplish the things that adults need to accomplish in their day: acquiring groceries, getting gas, yard work. The real problem is that most of these errands include shopping, and shopping more than two days in a row always upsets me. Part of this is the anxiety I have around spending money, but more than that, shopping overwhelms me with a staggeringly broad range of choices for me, the consumer.

Well, I'd much rather be consuming my chocolate croissant. And, to be honest, eavesdropping on strangers out celebrating birthdays and getting published and normal Wednesdays. I'd rather be writing somethings, anything. Putting something out into the world, instead of devouring it from store shelves. This is not a unique opinion, of course. The fact that it's so shared makes it extra special, I think.

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The Patio

Where gray polyvinyl chloride meets Drying strands of grass, like wheat Which makes no grain, only waves In sunlit breezes through the day. Chairs older than my oldest tooth Wear metal grating wound with roots From ivys which do not know poison, Only sweet tea, coffees, the noise one Makes when they step into the morning After a night full of dreams like warnings. The wind chimes snake-rattle, the mint leaves Attempt infinity, bound in a pot that won't keep. And the sun loves me here. He sings To the top of my head, and makes me king.

Yard Sales

Summer means yard sale season. I love everything about it. I love the neon-green signs with sharpies and an arrow (time and address optional), I love when there's obnoxious music playing directly from someone's phone speaker, I love listening to people talk. I suspect that the most interesting conversations in the universe happen during yard-sales, something about sitting in fabric camping chairs and watching strangers rummage through your life that shakes stories loose. This picture is from a yard-sale that a family of musicians were holding before they moved to Bali to form a jazz band. I admit, I eavesdrop. At yard sales, I've seen skateboards, bunnies, entire dining room sets, a marionette puppet, and cumulatively enough graphic tee-shirts to clothe my high school's graduating class twice-over. And I don't even make a hobby of going to yard-sales, I just follow the arrows when I come across them. I think that my favorite part about yard sales is the ele...

Buying Dinner

On a day when classes were driving me and my friend crazy, we accidentally spent an entire day together. After doing a little homework, watching in inadvisable amount of TV, and going on a hike, we decided to hop on a bus and go to the fancy neighborhood. On the way, we called another friend and decided to all meet up later, to eat dinner and watch the next episode of X-Men '97. I love adventures. This adventure was cozy and non-threatening, which is even better. The fancy neighborhood is a little downtown area in the historical district. We joked that we felt European, because the roads are cobblestone and street-lights were wrought-iron. Vines were climbing up buildings in a cute way, not a dilapidated one-- we were living it up! Fancy neighborhood is also home to one of my favorite stores, a suitably fancy vinegar and oil store. I like going there and asking for lots of samples and not buying anything, so I convinced my friend to go with me. As we should have expect...

Every Day a Love Letter

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