Grood morning, Dinkytown.

Well, here I am again in my favorite coffee shop! But this time, it's 9:20 in the morning, which is the earliest I've ever dragged myself here. Not that 9:20 is really that early, but in the scope of plopping oneself down at a tiny table to enjoy a latte and study French, it is.


I walked here this morning, which was very pleasant. I watched the sun come up from my kitchen window today as I fed the cat, which was nice, since the past few mornings have been cloudy enough that once I do get up, I don't see the sun for most of the day. So to see that orange orb peek over the rooftops was a welcome sight.


I noticed, as I walked through the neighborhoods into Dinkytown today that the reason morning is so extra magical is that I don't hear anybody talking. I didn't hear a single word until I opened the door to the coffee shop. The only voices outside were those of the birds, hopping around in the bushes and sitting in clumps on telephone wire to chat over breakfast, or whatever. 


It's interesting when you walk through the city how many smells you encounter in just a few blocks. The stairwell in the back of out apartment building is interesting like that, too. Every time I open that door it smells like something different--fried chicken, second-hand smoke, or cookies. Or just weird stairwell.


The neighborhood went from virtually scent-less park, to smelly rail yard. I walked across the footbridge over the tracks, and noticed as the oily smell of industry slid into my nose, making everything smell greasy and musty. And, to top it all off, after I left the bridge, I walked past a row of female ginkgo trees, which dropped their stinky fruit in the late fall, leaving it to rot on the sidewalks. Bleh.


then my world got virtually scentless again as I made my way into Dinkytown. I peered into shops as I strolled past, and tried to find the hours posted for the bookstore, but to no avail. Kafé 421's entry was dark and closed, but in walking past, I could see three chefs working furiously at something back in the kitchen.


The coffee shop itself is very busy. I didn't think it'd be this crowded in the morning, but it does only make sense. Especially since it's finals week, and everyone has the same idea--go somewhere and hunker down.


I actually have a little over eight hours to burn today. That's a lot. I probably won't be going back to the apartment, either, and if I do, it'd only be for a little bit. They have the water turned off until 5:30 so that repairs can be made on some plumbing stuff. I figured it'd be best if I didn't hang around, then. You never know when nature will sneak up on you.


So here I am. I strolled into the shop through the squeaky front door that opens the wrong way (Commercial doors are supposed to swing outward--standard building code. But this one is old.)and plunked my gear down at one of the little tables in the middle of the room. I don't like sitting in the middle of everyone, but I don't really have a choice today. Whatever. The barista is very cheery this morning, and handled the long line of us with ease. People are chatting and typing and doing all sorta of things around me, giving the shop its familiar hum. 


I don't feel any guilt today about sitting here and blogging for a good long stint. I'm really not that worried about the exam tonight--it's not worth a ton of my grade, and I'm taking the course pass/fail, since it was so hard, so I'm pretty darn sure I'll be fine. 


So we'll see how long I can hold out in one place today studying. I'll probably be here for an hour or two, then eventually mosey over to West Bank to retrieve my last art projects (YAY), and maybe run around to a few other places. 


Ah. A kid from my freshman drawing class came in. See, even though I'm perched at a table in the middle of things, I have a clear view of the counter and everyone who comes in. So it's nice for the spy in me.


Well, I'm not sure what else to tell you/what else you'd care to hear right now, So I'm going to just revert into studying and reading things and whatever.


This old guy also just shuffled in to claim the table next to me, and is throwing his jacket and mitten everywhere. Ooook.




Have a good one, y'all. I'll probably check in again later.




Songs of the morning:


Oh God, Where Are You Now?... by Sufjan Stevens.

L'hiver.

Winter is finally upon us, mes amis. 


And yesterday was particularly magical. And I felt like I wanted to describe it in detail because, well, I haven't done that in a while. And I enjoyed it so very much.




I shlumped up in bed a little after seven. Our room faintly glowed with that cold morning light that strains to penetrate clouds and window treatments. I shoved my fingers through the venetian blinds, bending the plastic slats to peer out into the neighborhood with bleary eyes. The sky sagged low with deep gray clouds, sprinkling the earth with dusty flurries.


When your days starts out as cozy as this...it usually means it is going to be pretty magical.


I stumbled out into the kitchen to start the kettle, and begin warming up mini Eggo pancakes with maple syrup. I'm not much of a frozen food person, but when life requires it, at least I like frozen breakfast food alright. It's nicer than waking up to a handful of cereal or cold pizza, or something.


Eventually I was dressed,had a travel mug of hot tea in my hand, and was locking up our apartment door. I stepped out into the snowy morning, feeling all snuggly and prepared in my wool coat and lovely knit cowl my sister made me last year. The sun was attempting to make an appearance at the edge of the thick clouds, but only managed to show off a sliver of pink sky off in the distance. With snowflakes dancing around me, and a favorite winter song playing on my iPod, I tromped through the snow over to the bus stop.


By eight, I was in McDonalds in Dinkytown, waiting with one of my coworkers for our carpool to arrive. And then, it was off to work. My coworkers enjoy listening to the Dave Ryan morning show on KDWB every time we drive, which isn't a bad thing, and is usually interesting. But my brain was awash with music, and I tried to concentrate on the lovely songs in my head as we drove, rather than hear about some guessing game they were playing at the radio station to win Lady Antebellum tickets.


Work was fun, as usual. Jazzy was super giggly today, and we had a grand ol' time talking about the colors we saw in our books and in the hallway were we work. Jonathan was a bit of a handful, but I had to give him a little grace. He informed me that his parents had been yelling a lot, and that he shouldn't be excited for Christmas because his dad was mad. I couldn't quite follow the string of events, but I can see why things like that could really disrupt a kindergartner's psyche.


We left after a very positive progress report from Sister Sharon, our coordinator,and after each taking a candy cane or cookie from the treat table. Man, I'm going to miss this place ;)(but not because of the food, though that is a cheery plus...)


I was eventually dropped off back at the apartment, with a couple of those little apple pies from McDonalds in tow. I've actually never bought anything from that location until now, when my carpool driver went through the drive-thru before dropping me off. 
It was a bit of a guilty pleasure moment, because this is not the time of year to really eat more than necessary. But whatever. It was one of those days. 


I moseyed about the empty apartment, munching pies and organizing myself. I made some chicken noodle soup, which was nice. But then something stupid happened. I lifted my computer off the table, and  it still had the charger cord plugged in, which caught on my nearly empty bowl, and pushed it onto the floor, demolishing it. Ted, who had been snoozing under the Christmas tree behind me, leapt out of his skin,and bumped the tree as he bolted from underneath it, sending the tree topper toppling down. All in all, it was a great cacophony of noise and clumsiness. I cleaned up the mess and reassured a terrified cat that, no, the Glassware Apocalypse was not upon us.


Then it was off to film class, which needs only to be described in one word: dull. I won't tell you more about that, since it's not even worth mentioning.


After that class, I had a bunch of hours to burn before French at 6:20. So I strolled across the Washington Ave. Bridge to Coffman, where I indulged in some Starbucks coffee and one of those seductive chairs they have in the fireplace lounge areas. And there I perched, reading my book for African lit class, feeling as classy as ever. Eventually, I moseyed over through the persistent flurries to a meeting with my work coordinator, which was very pleasant. 


It's a novel experience being a college student in a place like this, you know? I found myself drinking in my surroundings as I walked past the Weisman in the snow, carrying a cup of coffee, listening to cozy music, and wearing my snuggly outer gear. Bikers rolled past me through the throngs of people. The distant skyline was nearly invisible behind snow clouds. All these little observations of my current location felt so important. It's like my brain is starting to remind me that this isn't forever, and that I should really enjoy my life here. And I do. I really do.


Anyways, there's that sidetrack.


I stepped back out into the cold after my meeting, and went over to Walter Library to read some more. I sat myself down in one of the few empty chairs in the large main hall on the second floor.

My perch was over by that far right pillar.

As I sat there, reading my book, people-watching, trying not to fall asleep, and texting, a thought came into my head. A thought about thoughts. What if all the academic and worthwhile thoughts that had ever been thought in that library were visible, and we could see the little sentences swirling through the air? I'd bet it'd be pitch dark in there, since the library had been around forever. It was interesting to ponder.

But if you did see thoughts, you wouldn't be able to see this nice ceiling, now would you?

After eventually finding myself just gazing at the soaring pillars with their fancy gold hats, and not reading much anymore, I decided it was best that I bundle up and head on home to get situated for my evening class. So out into the snow I went.


Upon arriving back at the apartment, Ted and I played the always fun game of Brushie Brushie, which basically constitutes me holding out his furbrush and him walking himself past it, and rubbing himself all over it. I then Skyped Whooshie in London, ate port wine cheese with crackers and chili with Leslie. Then the niceness was interrupted by the arrival of departure time for my French class. Boo.


Here, again, is another part of my day that I won't put in great detail. 


BUT.


I will tell you that IT WAS MY LAST REAL FRENCH CLASS....EVER.


Sure, we have three different tests within the next week or two, but I will NEVER have to sit in a classroom for two hours discussing the subjunctive, or prepositional phrases, or...or..ANYTHING FRENCHY. GAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!




So that was pretty magical. 


[I was about to write that it was pretty damn magical, but you might have been offended by that, so I stuck to 
magical. But it actually was pretty damn magical. I think I can say that after 2 years of this stupid stuff.)




Harnar and Leslie met me after class outside Burton Hall (which is very pretty inside, but as silent as the grave, let me tell you). We took a nice lil' roomie road trip over to Target to buy groceries and Christmas lights and what have you. 


A good end to a good day, I say.


And it was still snowing.


Even when I woke up this morning, it was snowing.


Yeah.






And I slept like a rock that night.




The end.




Sorry that was so long-winded....












Songs of the Day:


My Understandings by Of Mice and Men


Canvas by Imogen Heap (!!!)


Eve by Emancipator


Cosmic Love (Short Club Remix) by Florence + The Machine


Painless by Mae

In my happy place.

Well, I'm back. Back in Espresso Royale, which I am slowly returning to. I shied away for a few months after I got ridiculously hit on here. Long story. Funny, but long. Ask me sometime if you want to hear it.


I don't have any more classes today, hallelujah.  My ceramics experience is improving, though, after 5.5 hours of trial and error on Saturday, and 5 hours today (including 3 hours of class) I went from Sad Pots status to Mediocre Pots status. That's a decent jump, I'd say. 


Oh, bless me ol' soul. They've been playing Andrew Bird's Armchair Apocrypha album here in the the coffee shop, and my favorite song Yawny at the Apocalypse just began wafting through the air and mingling with the scent of espresso. I am literally typing with my eyes closed as I take it in. Very few songs put me in such a place of rest as this one does. Oh happy day.


The sun is discovering its delightfully golden self, as dinnertime approaches the Midwest. I watch from my window seat as Dinkytown foot traffic moseys on by. The amount of people passing through Dinkytown is extraordinary this year, due to the construction around the school. Bikers fly by in massive fleets, vehicles carve a narrow path through the melee, and buses command the scene with their rumbly caterpillar bodies. And then there are the pedestrians, who stumble and rush about with their backpacks and messenger bags, tapping away on those accursed iPhones and whatnot. I have genuinely begin to loathe smart phones. Well, not really, but I really dislike how people are so focused on those things that the world around them can't get a word in edgewise. I'm not saying this of all smartphoners, but I've bumped into a few on the bus and places, and I just want to snatch it out of their hands and shove it in their bag and tell them to PAY ATTENTION, THE WORLD IS FLYING BY IN FRONT OF YOUR EYES AND YOU'RE MISSING IT.




And, God save me. I'm pretty sure the old guy who hit on me last time is here.


Please oh please oh please DO NOT SPEAK TO ME. The end.


Rachel is supposed to meet me here soon. Hurry, Rach. Save me.




I'm putting the ol' headphones in, just to help the cause.


Well, I'm just going to ignore the fact that I'm now very tense again. The Andrew Bird Effect is wearing off. Boo.




On a lighter and less-intense note--I saw a guy with a very tall head today. Not a big head, just a tall head. I wasn't sure if it was his hair at first, but no. His head was really that tall. 


Ugh, I'm so distracted now. Meh. Stupid. I think I'll listen to some Sufjan or something to get myself back on normal-people level.




Right. I think I'll start my homework now.


Audios.

Wake up after the end.

I woke up today to the most beautiful noise--a giant roar on thunder tearing across the sky. And it didn't stop there. Soon, every few minutes it sounded like someone shot a cannonball through one of Heaven's cookie sheets. And then the rain. Although it is a very dark morning, the rain was so dense it was virtually white outside. 


As I sit here now, I believe it is tapering off a bit, but it is still dark, the rain is coming down, and the thunder still mutters between the clouds.


And you know what else makes this moment perfect?




1. Not having to be anywhere today


2. Hot coffee


3. No lights on but my candle


4.  And that I saw the final Harry Potter showing at midnight last night, and so that is still rolling through my head.

Day After End by Apofiss

Good stuff, that. I did not grow up reading the books, and never saw the movies until number 6 came out. So I can't say it felt like my childhood died last night, like so many probably felt. But a good story did end. And the beauty of movies these days is that you can always relive the adventure. The same can always and forever be said about books, too.


Perhaps to the movie was/wasn't all the diehard readers were hoping for, I don't know. But for me, it was magical, because, having never read the books, I didn't really know how it ended. Sure, I'd heard bits and pieces of things, but never knew quite what happened to some major characters or whatever. And being a visual person, well, it really was a treat.




So, yes. I won't say much more about that, because there really isn't much more to discuss. All it is is that that I got to go into the midnight premiere of the last movie of the biggest franchise in history, enjoyed it, ate Turkish Delight in the movie theatre (bought it myself beforehand), and god to curl up in my own bed that night, feeling like I witnessed something good, and then got to sleep in. And wake up to storms.




Yeah. Be envious.




I will leave you with a list of some of the more during- storm-worthy songs I know.


*Take note that they're all by Scandinavian artists...haha






Peace.
And good bye, Harry Potter. But then again, we were never much more than acquaintances ;) 




And as far as any heartbreak goes, I've got it lucky, in that respect.










Storm Songs:

Bíum Bíum Bambaló & Dánarfregnir og Jarðarfarir by Sigur Rós

Kolniður by Jónsi

The Mash and the Fury by Trentemøller

Moan by Trentemøller

Fjöll í austri fagurblá by Sigur Rós

Into The Trees (Serenetti Part 3) by Trentemøller

Eye don't like it.

I look pathetic today.

Why?

Because my eyes look pathetic today.

I've been dealing with an eye infection deal for a week or so now, where my allergies gave me a nice stye, which is now in both eyes, and to top it off, my dermatitis is making it all heal slower.

So, all in all, I am sleep deprived and pathetic. I called into work this morning and had to tell them that I was just not up to snuff (which was very true, as seeing is difficult when you have two styes). So I got the day off.

But it's not much of a day off, as I am stuck at home, dinging around with very little motivation and a sore face. Meh. 

There's my lovely rant for you today. 

Feel bad for me. -.-

Whatever.

There is a plus side to this day, though. There's a good chance of thunderstorms tonight, and that makes any dreary day worthwhile.

I'm also feeling mopey about the fact that I am dying to create something, but have no inspiration. I can't think of anything in particular I'd like to create, but the desire is there. So I've been researching other peoples' creative endeavors, hoping to get a flicker of my own.

So, all in all, I am feeling miserable, selfish, and bored.

And I needed to type it all out in one big complaint, just to prove to myself that i just need to get over myself. 

So don't really feel too bad for me.

I decided there are a few things that can make any mopey day better:

1. Hot coffee

2. A dog

3. Stuffed animals

4. Good cooking

5. Nice people

6. A good book. Or something to entertain oneself.

I have everything but the last one, so I'm almost set.

oh--

7. Thunderstorms on the way.

I'm still only missing one. 

So, I think I will go have some quiet time to myself and try and focus on nicer things :)

Audios.

Songs of the Week:

Corner of the Sky by Cut Copy

Hægt, Kemur Ljósið by Ólafur Arnalds