Saturday couldn’t have been a better day (despite the Grand Tour of Granby Street and the momentary panic when I thought that I had left my wallet in Kelly’s) and today has been one of those perfect lazy Sundays with little to do but watch old episodes of Buffy and a new episode of Sex and the City. Fun. Oh, and I found out there is a Lush in Bahrain, so hopefully my sweetie will send me a package when he’s not busy keeping the world safe for democracy and George W.
Actually, it hasn’t been a perfect Sunday because despite a bunch of phone calls and invites to do things, I’ve been feeling this odd sense of loneliness. I’ve been trying to stay so busy the past couple of weeks, I really haven’t let myself feel lonely. But it’s there. I have spent the better part of my life thinking I’m an introvert, when my introvertedness has more to do with circumstances and the nature of being a writer and less to do with my actual personality. I like to be around people, whether it’s one or ten, whether I’m the center of attention or not. I like to talk (probably too much), but that’s not even necessary. Sometimes, just having someone sitting next to me on the couch watching the same movie I am is enough to make me feel content. So, I’m battling the urge to get dressed and go out somewhere, anywhere, just to be around people.
The thing is, I could have gone out today but decided not to. I wanted a little down time to catch up on stuff around here and I didn’t want to leave the house. I probably could have invited friends over to keep me company, at least for a little while, but I didn’t do that either. I guess I needed to be by myself in some weird way. Sometimes it’s harder to be around people for a little while and then be alone than it is to just be alone for the whole day. And sometimes there is only one person who can make the loneliness go away and there is no substitute.
I’m not so melancholy as this sounds, truly. I just wish I wasn’t alone tonight.
It snowed all day and Henry and I played in it until we were cold.
I had coffee at Fairgrounds with wonderful friends (and the couch is definitely comfy!). Finally! My coffee fix.
I’m warm, I’m in my jammies and it’s only nine o’clock. I also have movies to watch, as well as the first season of Buffy on DVD.
I’m don’t have to be back at work until Tuesday.
I have plans for tomorrow that include hockey and Shaolin Soccer, and maybe some cooking if I’m feeling inspired.
It’s been a good day. Happy, happy Kris.
I’ve finally updated the About Me section. It’s not terribly exciting, but it’s what I could come up with at 2 a.m. More than anyone wants to know, I’m sure.
Any questions?
“That’s not swimming, it’s frolicking.” ~ Nick
Now tell me that’s not funny. I mean, c’mon, it’s funny!
Coffee. I want coffee. Why is that all I can think about (well, relatively speaking, of course)? Why is coffee more addictive than soda, despite the similar (I think) caffeine content? Why, when I never drank coffee before last year (because I had the best damn coffee in London and I’m still trying to duplicate that amazing experience), do I suddenly have the urge to leave work in search of the nearest coffee house?
Honestly, I think it’s mostly the ritual. It’s comforting and exciting all at once. Going for coffee. It just has a ring to it. Not going for a Pepsi. Or going for tea. Or even going for a drink (though that has a different ring to it altogether). Going for coffee can be a solitary experience or a social event. It can be quick and feverish, like a forbidden affair; it can be leisurely and languid, like lovemaking on a summer afternoon.
Coffee drinking is about cupping the warm, steaming mug in my hands, worrying in back and forth gently as I blow the steam and inhale the aroma. It’s about the first taste and swallow, the soothing, rich, fulfilling smoothness of it. If the coffee is the perfect temperature-- not so hot it burns my tongue, not so cool that it tastes like paste-- all the better. Coffee with the hint of chocolate or vanilla or hazlenut (but mostly chocolate). Coffee that is sweet and creamy and swirly on my tongue.
I want coffee. I need coffee. I need comfort.
What’s it all about?
Life. Love. Writing. Editing. Sex. Books. Romance. Movies. Friendship. Photography. Teaching. Coffee. (Lots of coffee.) Travel. Feminism. Academia. Insomnia. Memories. Experiences. Rants. Raves. Reviews. Chocolate. Mmm… chocolate. Musings of an insomniac writer. Want to know more?
