Night Haiku
“Today’s Mistakes Fade
Tomorrow’s Hope Engulfs Us
Laughter Rises Forth”
Cup of Joe
I’ve never been much of a coffee drinker.
Basically, I’ve never had coffee until I accidentally ordered a cappuccino in Cinque Terre, Italy three years ago. Basically when you order a pastry at a nice little cafe in the morning, don’t panic if they ask you a follow up question in Italian speak, or you’ll spend more Euros then planned. The drink was all right; I just never took to drinking coffee again after.
Cue three years later. As a burgeoning copywriter, I have found that doing work in the confines of my home is pointless. There is always something else to do. Facebook, make a sandwich, look at this pinterest everyone is freaking out about, surf adult cinema, and the Netflix all vie for my attention. The problem is I’m always one to oblige them, I mean they have always been quite nice to me.
I’m assuming I will get weird looks if I fire up an episode of Battlestar Galactica at Common Roots. Or If I’m Huluing 30 Rock while sitting inside the Urban Bean. Dunn Bros is no place for Sasha Grey. So I have embarked on doing my work at coffee shops.
I very much enjoy a good tea. Iced or hot, I’m not picky. But a month or so ago, I thought, “Ehh, just try some coffee.”
“Well if you insist self, sure.”
I’ve been partial to the cappuccinos and americanos, though not as big a fan of straight up espresso. Regular drip roasted is nice, maybe with a little skim milk, you know, for my figure’s sake. But this is all moot, because the real issue at hand is finding the right confines for me to be productive.
My favorite spot used to be Spyhouse on Hennipen, but a lack of Internet consistency has driven me away. I like the location of Common Roots, but sometimes it’s too packed to finds a decent seat. What about Uncommon Grounds you say? Nothing about that place impressed me. Could they have more awkward chairs and booths? How about somewhere to plug in my power cord? I boo that place. Beat Coffeehouse is nice in the summer; you can sit at a table outside. But in the winter, their seating inside isn’t remarkably comfy. Checked out Plan B, seating is ok. The food was quite good though, so they will receive a second visit. Bob’s Java seems too hardcore for me, like I could be abducted via motorcycle. I’ve been partial to Jackson’s lately. They have gelato. Bonus points.
So my look for a proper place to grab a drink, a bite, and/or do some schoolwork forges on. I just want to be comfortable, but not too comfortable that I want to nap to the music of Boards of Canada. I just want a short walk, a nice chair, a good Wi-Fi connection, and a cute hipster making my macchiato. Too much to ask?
Reblog
AGE TWO
“Sleepless nights lead to days of dizzy wonderment. No, I will not lie still. No I won’t sit in my crib. The world holds too many answers and I am the asker of knowledge. Eve was content with but one apple, I would want to make a full pie.”
AGE TWELVE
“The first time I knew what competition was. The first time I battled not just opponents, but myself. The first time I aspired to grow beyond my city. The first time I battled better people until I was better than them. It was the first time I truly understood triumph, only because it was the first time I had truly felt defeat.”
AGE FIVE
“Shy. Observant. Imaginative. Obedient. Its playtime teacher. Its reading time classmates. Put everything away. Why am I the only one listening. Defensive. Stubborn. Angry. We need order, I’ll demand it with furrowed brow and quivered lip. Much to the frustration of mommy. Maybe that’s why Grandma picked me up. I could do no wrong in her eyes. At least mama knows I mean well.”