Tag Archives: coffee

coffee shops and sunsets and roadtrips: new blog title

I’ve been meaning to do it for a while. Since I first started this blog almost 4 years ago, actually. I was never particularly fond of the original title I chose, but lacking in creative thoughts and not wanting to confuse my writing teacher and classmates by a name-change, I keep it the same. Since then, I simply haven’t bothered because I haven’t cared enough to do anything about it, and again, I hadn’t a clue what I wanted to call my blog.

HOWEVER. Here I am, finally changing it, because I just sat down and said, “screw it. enough with 3 years of procrastinating. here’s my new blog title.”

Whew. That was easy.

Anyway, the new name is a reference to a quote from Jamie Tworkowski, the founder of To Write Love On Her Arms:

jamie

It reads, “You’ll need coffee shops and sunsets and roadtrips. Airplanes and passports and new songs and old songs, but people more than anything else. You will need other people and you will need to be that other person to someone else, a living, breathing, screaming invitation to believe better things.”

This quote helped me hold onto life during a very dark period for me, primarily the first half of 2014. At that time I don’t think I even fully absorbed the essence of Jamie’s words, but it gave me something to cling to and find hope in nonetheless.

In addition to the connection it has for me in the past, I feel it also speaks to my future. Who and what I want to be going forward. My life’s mission statement, you could say.

There are very few things I am sure of in this life: I’m not sure who I’ll marry or if I’ll marry at all; not sure what university I want to transfer to; not sure where I’m going to live; not sure what career I’ll have; and even though I’ve already started college, I’m not even sure what to major in.

These things are supposed to determine the essence of one’s life, and I don’t have a fucking clue where I’m going with any of it. But a few months ago, a friend took the usual “so what are you doing with your life” q’s, and rephrased it.

He said, “what’s something you’re good at? or at least, what’s something you hope you’re good at? not necessarily in school, but just in life.”

Since he had decided to put away the cookie-cutter questions, I decided to put away the corresponding answers, and instead allowed myself to say the first thing that came to mind.

I said, “I don’t know what the fuck I’m good at, but I hope I’m good at helping people. or that I will be, someday.”

I paused. Then continued with realization, “that’s what I want to do with my life. I don’t know how, but I want to help people. give them hope, I guess. love them… let them know that God loves them too.”

And that’s one of the few things which I’m sure of in this life. Introverted as I am, I love people. And I want to devote my life to bettering other’s lives.

God knows how it’ll happen, but I want to be that living, breathing, screaming invitation to believe better things.

In the meantime, I hope to feed my own soul with countless coffee shops and sunsets and roadtrips.

And maybe even write a few blog posts along the way.

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midnight terror

i’ve seen many thunderstorms from a distance, but before last night i hadn’t realized that i have never been IN THE MIDDLE of one. it was 3:00 a.m and i was awoken by a BLINDING flash of light in my window, FEROCIOUS rain, and thunder that felt like an EARTHQUAKE and sounded like a GUNSHOT and  it didn’t help that i slept with my sliding-glass door open. i was TERRIFIED, my heart was POUNDING, and i really didn’t want to be alone, which shows just how shaken i was b/c i’m an introvert and generally like having experiences to myself;  AND i was on the verge of tears b/c in addition to shaken nerves, i was freaking out about whether my horse was okay, but i knew it wasn’t safe to check on him. (he turned out to be just fine btw)

i ran around the house making sure all the windows were closed, and once i’d calmed down a bit i sat on floor next to our German Shepherds and watched the storm for awhile. the lightning was so close, that with every flash our many-windowed living room would light up. based on the space between the flashes and the crack of thunder, the actual lightning would’ve been striking as much as a 1/4 mile away or less. pretty freaky.

anyways, i ended up not only surviving, but falling back asleep despite the continuous roaring. the next morning, the rain was coming down in torrents, but the storm was mostly gone aside from an occasional faint rumble. i was then able to properly enjoy the inclement whether with breakfast, a cup of vanilla coffee, and a pleasant lack of heart palpitations and terror.

also, i vaguely recall that when the thunder first woke me, before i was fully aware and panicking, i turned over and mumbled pathetically into my pillow, “i just wanna sleep, can’t you let me sleep.”

in conclusion, i’ve decided that i prefer observing extreme weather, rather than being up close and personal with it.


One Year with WordPress! :D

So. Apparently I missed my one year anniversary of having WordPress by a couple of days. Whoops. ;P I feel like I should say something profound about my Creative Writing class or TPS in general; or maybe give an overwhelming account of how astonishing my life has been since I left TPS. But I just had a Venti Iced Vanilla Latte, and my brain is working too fast to be very coherent… besides, I’m not much good at being profound. Oh well.
THANKS FOR FOLLOWING ME AND HAVE A GREAT DAY.

*runs out giggling and skipping on a caffeine high*


CW9- The Cafè

coffee-caffeine-withdrawal

Victoria

Sitting down at a small table in a corner of the mall coffee shop, Victoria let out a sigh of relief. She breathed in the tantalizing aroma of her caramel macchiato and welcomed this moment of seclusion. Life had felt strangely shallow of late; her friends and family seemed more distant than ever, and no one really understood her any more. Yet, she felt that she had no right to complain; after all, Victoria’s life was not a bad one. She had never gone through anything truly traumatizing, and, even if she couldn’t afford her college of choice, she wasn’t exactly bad off in the way of money. Still, she longed for simpler days when friends had time to “hang out”; when family matters were childishly joyful; and when depression didn’t overcome her so easily.

Glad to remove her focus from her own fading life, Victoria lapsed into her favorite pastime: coffee-drinking and people-watching. So many faces, she thought as the café bustled around her, what they doing? Where are they going? Do they even know, or are they lost like me?

Toby

“Eww! Coffee is gross!” little Toby complained to his mom as they entered the aromatic shop. He wrinkled his nose with disgust.  “There’s an ice cream shop across the mall,” he said hopefully, looking up at his mother with pleading eyes.

“But it’s so cold today,” came her response, “you’d get all chilly. Besides, I could really use some caffeine.”

Disappointed, Toby tried holding his breath to block the unpleasant scents. Unable to keep it up for long, he was forced to inhale the noxious fumes. Coughing and spluttering as if his very life was being choked, he began to plead with his mom to have mercy on him. Before he could utter the words, his mom broke in.

“They have hot cocoa and cookies here,” she said hastily.

His ailment suddenly disappearing, Toby exclaimed, “Oh, they do?! Can I have some? A great big cup of cocoa—with marshmallows on top!”

“I suppose,” his mom smirked, “if you’re sure you’d rather not have coffee …”

“Blech, blech!” he gagged. Stretching his arms out, he said slowly, “Zombie Toby no want coffee. Zombie Toby want… cookies!”

His eyes lighting up, Toby ran to the covered display and flattened his face against the glass, blissfully unaware of the attention he drew from those around him. The little-boy heart filled with joy as he viewed the many choices.

“They’re all so yummy-looking!” he sighed. How could life get any better?

Jennifer

Oh gosh, why do there have to be so many people? Jennifer moaned to herself as she pushed through the crowd into the café. After a long day of stressful work, being around more people was the last thing she wanted. A little boy ran past her, unsettling her nerves. She scowled after him, watching in disgust as he dirtied up the display-case glass. Ugh, such nuisances children are. So loud and messy…and why does this old woman have to move so slow?!

An elderly lady standing in line in front of Jennifer eased her way up to the counter, causing the younger woman much aggravation by her lack of haste. Pressing her fingers against her temples, Jennifer took deep breaths in and out, telling herself that all this misery would end as soon as she ordered her coffee and walked out.

As her turn came, she tartly demanded her large mocha. Walking to the other end of the counter to wait impatiently for her drink, she squirmed under the observant gaze of another young woman who sat nearby. What is she staring at? Jennifer asked herself, feeling as if the other girl was trying to see right through her. One of those nosy types, I guess, she grunted, as she grabbed the mocha that had been placed on the counter and hurried out.

Agnes

Grandmotherly Agnes made her way through the busy mall café full of young, vibrant people. While her daughter and grandchildren busied themselves in a shop next door, Agnes had decided to buy a little treat for her dear ones. She reviewed her grandchildren’s preferences while she stood in line, Now, Abby likes those fancy doughnuts with sprinkles, but Neal would rather have something spicy, like gingerbread. Ash is too young to have much of an opinion, but I suppose he’ll be content with a simple sugar cookie.

Agnes grinned with understanding as a young mother and little boy caught her attention. She remembered her own days as a first-time mother, and felt blessed that she could relive it so many years later through her precious grandchildren.

Turning her thoughts to her daughter, she tried to recall what coffee drink she liked best. Was it mocha-something? Or peppermint? Ah, no, it’s vanilla! Agnes’ eyes twinkled; vanilla certainly embodied Charlotte: warm, sweet, and exciting, all at the same time. Sort of like what that girl in the corner should look like, she thought as she observed the young lady,  if only she didn’t seem so… scared. Their eyes met and both smiled as the two people-watchers saw in each other one of their own kind. There now, Agnes felt satisfied with the girl’s brightened face, that’s much better.