A BUCKING GOOD RIDE

Posted: November 18, 2011 in Just Life
Tags: , , , , ,

Sitting in Starbucks is not my ideal place for writing, between the rockin’ Christmas music and the chirpy girls in Ugg-ly boots, I feel like smacking every ass in line and then running out the door screaming VENTI VENTI!

It sounds a little nutty I know, but I’m coming to terms with who I am and the thoughts that I think—Do you hear what I hear, shepherd boy?

Taco Bell is my normal hot spot for creativity and the library of course. These are places where people are real, real hungry for. . . tacos… knowledge or whatever.

I like watching people, but there’s a personality issue I can’t quite adjust too at The Bucks. It’s like being in a Suze Orman nightmare where people try to look like a million bucks, drink their bucks, and waste many a buck because designer labels are cool even if only on a paper cup.

At T-Bell you can get something for a buck (tax not included) and there’s a diversity of characters, but don’t stare too long. You don’t want some chic in cupid pajamas and Tweety Bird slippers giving you the front, what the buck bitch?

See life to me is about perspective even if it’s only Justin Bieber singing about Frosty being as alive as he can be. There’s a spark to inspire everyone. If you have Bieber fever, I hear he has a holiday CD coming out, but him singing Frosty is only one of my three secret Santa wishes.

At this point, you may be asking what the Hell is this post about lady? Why are you writing at Starbucks if you don’t like the place?

One, I enjoy listening to that poor customer who sings a line or two from a song as they wait in a line longer than the DMV. I get some sick joy from knowing they’ll have horrible lyrics stuck in their head all day, maybe even all week. I imagine them in a board meeting or sitting on the toilet humming, do you see what I see.

Second, it’s really about friendship. It’s the smaller moments that we endure to prove our devotion to our peeps because we need them in our lives. They’re the people who keep us from falling off that crazy ledge or who shove us off when the time is right.

I met up with my friend, who I shall call… Monkey, because I’m not sure she’s quite ready to be outed as a Starbucks patron or in association to my peculiar blogging. However, at some point, everyone everywhere will know her name or maybe that’s Harry Potter.

Anyway, Monkey and I don’t get to meet very often, but when we do, it entails each of us taking a train ride from opposite routes and leaving our destinations before sunrise. I know, sounds like the beginning of a brilliant word problem; it’s rather a collision of art.

While on the train the sun began to rise and the sky turned from the color of night to a gorgeous pollution pink blend. I took an iShot and sent it to Monkey who did the exact thing in return. Two perspectives of the same sunrise at the same time was inspiring. Life felt flowing rather than numbing.

I’m learning that what I need is to feel again, connect with reality, and not conform to AmeriCorps clones drinking peppermint mochas. Buy one get one free, but make it a skinny, and don’t forget your Christmas compilation.

NOTE: Below my inspiring video is a poetic short (whatever that means), so keep scrolling.

A TRAIN RIDE SOMEWHERE

I can hear the train grind along the tracks from outside her office as she types and I wonder if she weren’t working, would she look out the window.

If she looked out the window to watch the train, would she want to leave work to catch the next?

It’s only a boxcar, no passengers allowed, but if she didn’t have a family, kids, friends, her devotion, would she hop a car?

Would she let it take her to a place where only new memories waited to exist, leave the past, dodge the present, and ride to her nowhere, her place to become someone somewhere?

Would her destination be a burden of guilt or an unforgettable sunrise?

Would she hear the screeching of self-doubt or the silence of dawn?

I can’t help wonder what she’ll choose to see and what she’ll share if she ever returns to this place, an empty space, cold and gray with no fresh air to breathe, typing as the train pulls out.

 

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Comments
  1. Jennifer Long/Janus Photo Arts says:

    OK, you can out me as Monkey…and I’m only a Starbucks patron when I’m with you, oddly. And thanks for keeping me from jumping off the ledge and keeping me laughing so hard I was watering at both ends a bit. 🙂

  2. Jennifer Long/Janus Photo Arts says:

    Crikey! And I forgot to say I LOVE the video!!!

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