Dinner Theater and Parenthetical Phrases

It's been a while since I've been back in the coffee shop. Two days too long. Unfortunately I did not get to blog the last time I was here. I was busy writing post-cards instead. Those times were pretty interesting...
In the time elapsed since our last meeting I have fallen in love. There is an actor who comes to the coffee shop to practice his lines. He is just too preposterous for him to exist in real life (I think they spike my coffee with hallucinogens). I can't stop staring at him when he comes in. Our eyes first met when he was practicing what appeared to be a monologue. (I couldn't exactly tell because he was mouthing the lines to himself.) He looked at me with his come-hither stare and I was gone. Something about sculpted facial hair and that beady eyed sneaky look just screams theater major, and captures my heart. I discover more and more about him every time we chance to be here together. I am becoming extremely talented at eavesdropping. He is in a dinner theater troupe that performs at fancy restaurants. They serve four course meals that correspond with the four acts in the play. He loves white and black... teas. Doesn't he sound perfect. The other day I almost offered him a tissue. He gets very emotional whilst practicing his lines. Oh, and that coffee mug... I've never seen a coffee mug used so effectively as a prop. The way he sneers his whispered lines, then takes a swig with a grimace, only then to lift his mug again to wipe his tears on his sleeve and then slam it down. He had me close to tears. I should applaud him the next time he's in here.
I went to see Men in Black III today (I accidentally wrote Men & Black, how embarrassing would that have been if I hadn't caught it?). I had to get the kids I nanny out of the house so the help could come and clean. So their dad gave us money and told us to go watch Men in Black. I informed the littlest that we were going to see Men in Black III and she replied, "I haven't even seen one, two, or four yet!" She is a card that little girl. I popped into her room this morning. "I'M HERE!!" I yodeled. She looked at me cool as a cucumber and said, (very much like Meryl Streep in The Devil Wears Prada) "You can go back home now." They love me.
Wal-Mart called me yesterday offering me a maintenance position, emphasis on the cleaning of the bathrooms. I wanted to go in to interview. I wanted the experience of a real job interview (and I wanted to blog about it), but none of the interview times fit my schedule. Today a different one called offering the same position. To which I replied, "Yeah I don't really want to do that." They wanted a daytime cleaner, and I just can't fit that into my schedule. Oh Wal-Mart, you had your chance. That ship has sailed. Goodbye employee of the month dream. It seems as if that is one dream I shall never achieve... sigh.
Oh, so I'm convinced Gregory Alan Isakov was at my coffee shop earlier today (I would post his picture but he probably reads (wow I typed reeds the first time... that's... well that's just mortifying (I'm starting to doubt my English)) my blog). I'm also pretty sure I saw Laura Marling pushing a buggy at the grocery store. Who knows? I choose to be a believer.

I hope my readers don't find my parenthetical phrases too difficult to follow, if they do... there isn't anything I can do about it.

New Orleans, and Infectious Diseases

     Tomorrow I roadtrip. I will arise at some ungodly hour, pile into a minivan with my two younger siblings and my parents, and we shall journey to the land of swamps, crawfish, jazz, and... Cajuns. In case you were worrying about the etymology of the word Cajun, it is French for redneck. I once dated a Cajun for a week... I don't really want to talk about it... Senior year was rough.
     Anyway, I shall be spending Pentecost at my Byzantine Catholic Church, St. Nicholas. I'm sure after that we will go get coffee and beignets, Colleen, at the Cafe Du Monde. Oh, but not in the French Quarter. HAHAHA, are you kidding me? It's labor day weekend! No, we will be going where we usually go even when its not a big weekend. We will be going to Metairie, LA to visit the Cafe Du Monde there. Thats right, the suburb of New Orleans. Where we can be sure we will not be running into any pigeons or bums. It takes all the fun out of it I assure you. I wonder if there is an Urban Outfitters in New Orleans? Just googled it, yes,  there is. You know what there isn't? A TRADER JOE'S! I feel like a part my soul is being starved. How I love thee my dear Mr. Shaw.
     Ok so this really cute guy was sitting next to me earlier. I got kinda excited. Then I realized he was reading a book about infectious diseases. I quickly decided it would never work out. I mean he could be reading it because he is in med school, but he could also be reading it because he has an infectious disease. I'm not going to take that chance.
     So, my blog has now had 3 views in France, 3 views in Russia, and 1 view in Germany. So I shall salute France and talk about bidets. Why do people avoid bidets like they are riddled with infectious diseases? (I should ask that guy if any of the people in his book got the diseases from bidets) I have only ever seen one in person once, it was in my ex-uncles house. We aren't on speaking terms with him any more so I feel like it would be more than awkward to ring his door bell and ask if I could photograph it. When we were little we would stand around it in wonder and then try to hold people down in it while we pushed the lever. I had a lovely childhood. In case you were worrying about the etymology of the word bidet, it is French for pony. I just researched bidets on wikipedia. I now know way too much about bidets. I am not sure what I think of myself. I feel like I am strange person for googling bidet and then reading the wikipedia article on it. Bidets just make me laugh thats just the plain and simple story. I hear or read the word bidet and I just can't help giggling. The other day I was watching New Girl starring Zooey Deschanel, and there was a scene featuring a bidet gone crazy. This is why bidets are featured in todays blog, that and the fact that the French now read my blog. This isn't some sick twisted obsession. They just amuse me. They make me laugh. Don't research them. They are strange things.

Question of the day. Is it Blog Spot, Blogs Pot, or Pog Blots

Bad Story Bucket

Today I am posting from two different locations The Willie Morris Library, and Starbucks. I know what you are thinking my dear vast audience of billions, What am I doing blogging somewhere besides Cups coffee shop? Well today I showed just how dedicated i am to the written word and walked two point five miles, that's right 2.5 miles, just to get to my neighborhood library (I wish there were a way to capitalize numbers that looks decidedly unimpressive(does "wish" make this parenthetical statement subjunctive?!)).  So here I am at my awesome library and the first place I visited was THE AUDIO BOOK SECTION WHOOP WHOOP. I plan on ripping Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood by Rebecca Wells onto my computer so i can have it always and fo free! I highly recommend this book and even more the audio book to any one looking for a classic book to read/ listen to. It revolves around 4 women and their relationship through the trials and tribulations of being alcoholic, pill dependent, Catholic, women in Louisiana. It really is a lovely, wholesome, and uplifting read. The movie has Sandra Bullock and James Garner in it as well as the guy who plays Robert the Bruce in Braveheart. So it must be a good book. Q.E.D.
This Library really is great. It used to be the Northside library and was situated between a dollar store and a laundry mat. I would go there when I was home schooled my 5th grade year on Tuesdays because that was when the help came and cleaned the house. It was that year I discovered the large print section. Did you know that they make books with huge print? I didn't, till 5th grade. After that at every opportunity I got all my books in large print. that is how I read The Lord of the Rings, large print, baby. However, the staff soon got tired of being mugged in the parking lot and built themselves a new location closer to my house. Which is where I am now. It is named after the guy who wrote My Dog Skip,William Morris. It is a great book and movie (starring Frankie Muniz, that's right, Agent Cody Banks!). I just got a new card so I am all ready to free my mind and broaden my horizons. I've always wondered what they would do if I stood up and just started screaming my head off. Oh well I will save that for another day. I think I am going to go browse the books. I will write some more when I get to Starbucks.
Well.... I got to Starbucks, but before I could even eat my scone I was whisked away by my brother so I didn't get to blog there. Oh, and the library portion of this text is from tuesday... today as of this moment is friday. A lot has happened since tuesday. Just kidding nothing has really happened at all. Uh-oh its that time again.... HIGH LIGHTS LOW LIGHTS!!!!!! duh duh duh duh BAH BAH BAH!! I will start with the low lights because I don't want to end on a bad note. Lowlights: I have a blister on my thumb from playing guitar, I am slightly sunburnt from laying out at the pool with the kids that I babysit, and I have to wait another year for the next Sherlock season to come out in America (CURSES ON BBC) Highlights of the week: I Learned Failure by Laura Marling, I get paid to watch children, take them to the pool, and watch New Girl. SUPER HIGHLIGHT: I saw the most amazing sunrise over the fields today. I could see the dew rising (not falling) as it was evaporating off the flora. It was amazing and it smelled like roadtrip. I looked at it and had the intense urge to say, "A red sunrise, blood was spilled this night."But, I didn't because I didn't have a dwarf with me. What I wouldn't give for a wild rumpus right now...

Trials and Tribulations

Here I am at Cups... once again. I find this is the best place for my musings. Musings seem to flow best under the influence... of caffeine, hipsters, spotify, and just the whole coffee shop vibe.
Speaking of Hipsters...

Dear man sitting across from me,
Your soul patch is perpendicular to your face

Dear Hippie Hipster,
You seem to have left your pants at home

Dear Tattooed Lady,
I know you are classy, because "I love Ramone" is written in cursive

Dear Lady screaming on the patio,
I'm sure your political beliefs are extremely important. Now shut up.

Oh hipsters, you have a heavy cross to bear, being so hip and with it. I'm not criticizing. In fact, I secretly believe that everyone wants very secretly to be a hipster. I wear feathers in my hair, and have a hat I named Clancy. I hang out in a coffee shop. What does this say about me? I do have a blog though which seems entirely un-hipster. Sigh... Maybe if I shop at Modcloth and Anthro...

I guess to be a hipster you have to be born one, or you have to be able to convince everyone you were

If your child is born a hipster here is a site that will help you
http://www.babycenter.com/0_hipster-baby-names_10305381.bc

The Brief Life and Times of Far Stish

Far Stish

Clinging to the jetty for dear life,

you know not what is coming to you, do you?

Each new wave brings life, invigorates.

In the absence, in the gap, 

there is only the longing for what has passed,

the safety of the sea.

Now it is gone and something sinister has come.

The sea recedes.

The star is pried, 

untimely ripped, for a rancid tomb.

Life is short for a star on a rock,

when scientific knowledge is to be had,

but what shall a star do in a bucket?

Where is its sky?

With its light in a bucket there's not much hope

My star is expired.

My star is dead.

My star is sentenced,

sentenced to hang by the leg til fallen.

A falling star,

Falling, striking ground

star dust, everywhere

a finer fate no star could ask.

No bottle o' Jameson,

No bottle o' Re-Juv-Nal,

Even these can not remove a falling star

My star,

My Far Stish

 RIP Farstish 

?- April 2012

Next Post:
Ode to My Chastity Mug

Thurban Tursday! and other musings...

     Well here I am again at Cups typing away while wearing my ostrich feather scarf as a turban. You know, the usual.
     The Coffee Flavor of the day is Creme Brulee. It is still too hot to drink but as soon as I take a sip I will give you a full account of its flavor.
     Well the first Turban Thursday Fondren has ever seen began today. My family is at a loss as to why I have donned a turban and gone out into public. Well, g dangit, if I am going to live here for the next three months I need to have something to look forward to. A man at mass told me he liked my headdress. My brother told me I look like Mammy from Gone With the Wind.

     I disagree...
     While I was at the grocery I asked a lady if they had any safety pins. She said they did not, and then another lady who worked there said to me as I sauntered to the exit, so as to continue my quest for safety pins at the Walgreen's, "mus be yo birfday," to which I replied, "No'mam it's just Turban Thursday."
     I recounted this anecdote to my brother. He looked at me with disdain. "She was referring to the safety pins, not your turban."
     "No, she was talking about my turban," I replied, "Isn't it a common for some ethnicities to wear turbans on their birthdays?"
     "No. But it is common to get a safety pin and pin a dollar to your shirt on your birthday."
Just in case you, my readers, aren't familiar with this tradition I shall attempt to explain it to you. My brother is referring the common practice certain ethnicities have here in Jackson. On one's birthday said person will fetch a safety pin and attach a dollar bill to it, and then attach it to their shirt. This lets everyone who encounters this person know it is their birthday, and hopefully so that, since now that the world knows, the world will proceed to give the person a dollar to attach to their shirt. By the end of the day the stack of money can be quite large. Something I learned in Catholic schools, if you put the bulk of the money in your purse it does not look as if you have accumulated very much and so people feel bad for you and give you more. People are less inclined to give money to a person with money exploding off their chest.
     If this explanation leaves you unsatisfied here is a helpful site I found http://answers.yahoo.com/question/index?qid=20081022113243AAWBMaF.
     Anyway, I refuse to accept this as what the woman in the grocery was referring to. I maintain people wear turbans on their birthdays. I mean, who doesn't like wearing turbans besides Canadians?! It seems like a very birthday thing to do to me.
     OH MY GOODNESS this coffee is amazing! Ahhhhhhh the tannins..... it has a nice brownish color, and smells very cremey with just a hint of brulee. Ahhhh it taste like.... some sort of french pastry... the name escapes me now I guess I will just have to ask the barista.... how embarrassing.
     Yesterday I saw an attractive male in the car next to me just as i had started to role down my window.... this is the worst. What if they think you are rolling it down so as to talk to them or to be flirtatious. I wanted neither of those things! I was just extremely hot. So instead of being comfortable I was just sitting in a hot car second guessing my motives and too embarrassed to continue rolling down the window. It was awful...

Hour 5

I have now been five hours in this coffee shop in Fondren Mississippi. I got here at 11. It is now 4:54. Don't judge me.
Judging is bad. That is why I have created this blog, to have a forum where people can express themselves without being judged.
GOTCHA!!! hahahahahahaha
Why would I write about that kind of hokey garbage?!
Feelings were made to be broken, get over it.
Now, I don't want people to think that I am an insensitive callous individual. I am, but I don't want people to think that.
The purpose of this blog is nonexistent. Anyone trying to find a purpose will be shot.
I have 93 days till I get back in my beautiful California so I will spend it working and blogging terrible stories to waste your and my time.
This blog already seems extremely choppy and random. It will probably be like this all summer. I'm trying to get in touch with my inner Faulkner and try stream of consciousness. So, if you notice any grammar errors don't correct, its been done on purpose I assure you. I know it will be hard for you, vast audience of millions that have a passion for grammar and view my bah blah blog religiously, but try to endure,