IF I COULD FOOL MYSELF, THEN BABY, I'D FOOL YOU
Some of the old magic is starting to come back. I would hate to think that my magic is directly tied to my consumption of black coffee, but that seems to be it, more or less. I love getting coffee. I mean, I love the act of getting it. I love sitting down with somebody in a coffee place with that whole overhanging feeling of everybody watching everybody else all the time. I could stand to hang out with somebody I don't like if we could be getting coffee whilst doing so. That's how much I love it. I could write a huge research paper as long as I could pull together three tables at the 61c to spread my shit out. I could write a book. I'm sure I will. Which one of you will come to get coffee with me?
(An annotation: this is post-cup two of coffee this morning. No fucking wonder. Give me NPR! Tofu! Large books! My academic ovaries are twitching!)
I think I'm going to welcome winter back again. I always remember the previous year when it gets colder like this, and I can remember buying my winter coat, visiting Ram's family over break, growing into my sweaters, getting down my scarf-tying technique, having a clear conscience and chapped lips. Nobody should forget their first winter away from home, the first time you make your own tea in your own house, and the ways that you decide to get by without your huge space heater. Static and people smoking in the snow.
Some of the old magic is starting to come back. I would hate to think that my magic is directly tied to my consumption of black coffee, but that seems to be it, more or less. I love getting coffee. I mean, I love the act of getting it. I love sitting down with somebody in a coffee place with that whole overhanging feeling of everybody watching everybody else all the time. I could stand to hang out with somebody I don't like if we could be getting coffee whilst doing so. That's how much I love it. I could write a huge research paper as long as I could pull together three tables at the 61c to spread my shit out. I could write a book. I'm sure I will. Which one of you will come to get coffee with me?
(An annotation: this is post-cup two of coffee this morning. No fucking wonder. Give me NPR! Tofu! Large books! My academic ovaries are twitching!)
I think I'm going to welcome winter back again. I always remember the previous year when it gets colder like this, and I can remember buying my winter coat, visiting Ram's family over break, growing into my sweaters, getting down my scarf-tying technique, having a clear conscience and chapped lips. Nobody should forget their first winter away from home, the first time you make your own tea in your own house, and the ways that you decide to get by without your huge space heater. Static and people smoking in the snow.
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