But Call Me Betsy

Fuck the internet connection at Small World--it doesn't work for me and the user name and password printed on the flimsy receipt is smudged and difficult to read, very similar to the password that Verizon provides where every other symbol could be a small letter, a cap letter, or a number. I wonder if some genius at Verizon (or at SW) might one day say, Hey, people seem to want to be able to use the internet connection to log on. Why not make that easier? I'm also annoyed because I choose the wrong line to wait in--it was a difficult decision. Two older ladies, both with their wallets all ready, but the one I was standing behind said something like, For my first order, I'd like a small decaf Americano with whipped mocha chai on top. I gambled and moved to the next line, and was dismayed to find that this lady was on a dogged search for quarters in her seemingly bottomless handbag. Thirdly, and lastly (for now), there's a kid in here who is talking to no one I can se...

Not the Disney ride, but one of the two independent coffee shops in Princeton. It's a cash only place where the baristas are always cheerful instead of surly, like every single coffee shop employee working in Philly. I have the next two weeks off from work, and so am out in the world at 3 p.m. on a Monday. I fully expected the place to be quiet send deserted, but instead, it's hopping with white people, almost exclusively, some old, some young, some in between. Perhaps they are also off work because of the holidays, or else there are a lot more people in town with leisure time than I ever knew. It's standing room only, so I am sitting at the counter part rather than a table, next to a woman who appears to be reading a book that requires her to underline sentences. How she can focus on words with the trio of girls next to her is hard to fathom. The girls are all brunettes, either skipping seventh period high school or possibly college students, though their topics of convers...

Why so sad? Why do you never smile, even when I leave you a dollar on a tab of $1.75 so that you will like me better? Is it because you are located on 13th and Pine and seem to attract a steady cluster of homeless people who sit at the outside tables rolling their own cigarettes and then breezing in to use the bathroom in the basement? Is it because you are an artist and you know that your talents are being squandered as customers demand you to make them vanilla lattes with a shot of hazelnut? Is it because the loud, jarring music that you play enhances your anger; that the daily dose of Rage Against the Machine (meant, possibly, to keep individuals from staying at the coffee shop indefinitely) reinforces your sense of disenfranchisement and boyish angst? You're cute, with your round glasses perpetually fogged by the steamer and your dark bangs that hang over your eyes, but I don't think you care if girls find you attractive. You're probably jaded from the continual stream ...

Liz M. told me that her friend Rauol (whose name I am most definitely spelling wrong) read my blog (she has a link on hers to mine) and asked Liz to tell me that the paella I referenced as a Mexican dish, is actually a Spanish food. I should've written instead "tapas." (I'm kidding!). Sorry. A very good dinner was had by all last night--Padhraig made a salad with his secret dressing and then also a stew with big chunks of meat and potatoes and carrots and then for dessert, there was a cake with hazelnuts on top. We were also served coffee with whiskey in it. I worried that I wouldn't be able to sleep later, but luckily, I was able to consume 15 glasses of wine and so had no trouble at all. Went to Royal Tavern after dinner. Royal is the same as ever. (A woman with gigantic sunglasses and messy blong hair just came in a sat next to me and started talking to the barrista about the dog doors she's putting in. She's very friendly. I moved my seat). Went to the...