Coffee Shop Archetypes?
I am siting up at Clementine's on East Manor, which is about three blocks from Hippie Mansion. My friend Amanda's band is supposed to be playing at 8:00, and after them will be Wino Vino, a group of incredibly hot guys who play self-described Gypsy Punk. I've seen them before and I'd love them even if they weren't all so damned attractive.
This coffee shop reminds me of the one I spent most of my free time in Seward at. The coffee isn't as good, and the couch doesn't swallow me whole when I sit on it, but it's nice. It looks nothing like the Sea Bean, and I can't quite put my finger on why it makes me think of that spot. Something about the art on the walls and the music playing overhead, I think. It's also cold and rainy today like almost every single day in Seward. But I was at Dominican Joe's this afternoon to drink espresso in celebration of the job I probably have (I know I'm ridiculous, ok?), and that entire experience struck me as singularly unique. Also, better espresso.
I'm gradually hen-pecking my way through a review of The Secret Show I went to on Tuesday. I recorded most of it with my iTalk, and I don't want to finish writing it until I get a chance to listen through it again, in the name of researching new methods for stimulating that unfaithful Muse who seems to only sometimes grant me the pleasure of a proper vein of prose. But I have a few bits jotted down, an outline, and tone for the whole thing that I hope will come across as humorous. My goal this weekend is to rework a few bits of what I wrote in Alaska to submit to a couple of travel-writing contests. Even if I don't win, I'll have something posted to some very high-traffic sites. Don't be surprised if I start heckling my readership to go vote for me on such sites.
This coffee shop reminds me of the one I spent most of my free time in Seward at. The coffee isn't as good, and the couch doesn't swallow me whole when I sit on it, but it's nice. It looks nothing like the Sea Bean, and I can't quite put my finger on why it makes me think of that spot. Something about the art on the walls and the music playing overhead, I think. It's also cold and rainy today like almost every single day in Seward. But I was at Dominican Joe's this afternoon to drink espresso in celebration of the job I probably have (I know I'm ridiculous, ok?), and that entire experience struck me as singularly unique. Also, better espresso.
I'm gradually hen-pecking my way through a review of The Secret Show I went to on Tuesday. I recorded most of it with my iTalk, and I don't want to finish writing it until I get a chance to listen through it again, in the name of researching new methods for stimulating that unfaithful Muse who seems to only sometimes grant me the pleasure of a proper vein of prose. But I have a few bits jotted down, an outline, and tone for the whole thing that I hope will come across as humorous. My goal this weekend is to rework a few bits of what I wrote in Alaska to submit to a couple of travel-writing contests. Even if I don't win, I'll have something posted to some very high-traffic sites. Don't be surprised if I start heckling my readership to go vote for me on such sites.