Yes. That much I love coffee. Just walked 4 blocks in the killing humid heat to get a coffee.Hot coffee. Real coffee.French.
Don't get me wrong, there is coffee everywhere in New York. Americana. Watery.Iced.
I drink it if I have to. Running coffee makes life sprint. Fast coffee for everyone. That's coffee in America - a drink more common than water with an over roasted caffeine diluted milk taste that's so sweet it might wake you up.For about one or two hours.By that time, you need your second gallon of diluted sweet coffee not because you miss the caffeine but because the sugar calls you back where you belong, in the "Slave for Sweet" land.
Now, where I come from, coffee takes a little bit more time to do, a whole lot of time to drink and it makes life flow easily, carelessly, creamily...
That's why I went for real coffee to the french coffee shop, where the french guy that makes my cappuccino knows almost no English but he makes a tiny cup of creamy wonder that contains about thirty minutes of my personal happiness. I do not have money for his tip - they make expensive things, this French magicians- but I have my amazingly broken French in the pocket.
I tell him how my boyfriend lately spoils me with French music in the car when we return from work on Friday nights. I tell him about Charles Aznavour and Mireille Mathieu and Notre Damme de Paris musical.He's young. He might not know any of these.
I get a feeling that I would really seem annoying to him if we were in Paris in the same circumstances but here he smiles a wide smile of gratitude. He says "Thank you" I say "Merci".
Coffee beats globalization!
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Friday, August 14, 2009
prophets will be p(r)o(ph)ets
Last winter, I was still a "happy"-go-lucky New Jersey commuter.
I remember I used to see Jose every morning in front of the train station exercising his sales skills while handing us the "Metro".
"Good morning ladies and gentlemen and welcome to the most beautiful train station in the world.
My name is Jose and I ask you to remember:
you are not where you are! you are in Hawaii, on the beach, on vacation! Enjoy your day dreaming!!!"
And he would add on Mondays:" today is not Monday because Friday is running to replace it. Friday's around the corner, madam!
And people would smile and forget they're freezing and take the paper and go be happy as advised.
This character that weirdly enjoyed his small money job deserves a best salesmen prize only because of putting effort into "selling" a product that was not for sale.
One of those street people that carry life metaphors in their pockets.
Jose disappeared on a Monday when I was probably too cold to notice. I only realized he's gone one day in spring when a sad lady came to replace him. The "sales" didn't drop for sure but I couldn't help but wonder in which part of NY was Jose exercising his pitch now.
Yesterday I saw Jose in the train giving a speech in Spanish to a young lady, most probably his 13 yo daughter: "Margarita, la vida no es como un sueno, mi vida! La vida es un carnaval triste que te hace llorar...".He said more but faster and in a low voice and it all seemed to me like an encouragement more than an advice but the girl kept her eyes set on the ground.
Few more phrases and she raised her head, put on the i-pod earplugs and let the tears come out of her beautiful eyes...
It seems to me that Jose's philosophy says that happiness can only be promoted and injected into large groups by the poetry of fantasy.
Sadness remains to be given individually, portioned in slow tears and needs to be tasted as bitter piece of advice in loneliness.
I remember I used to see Jose every morning in front of the train station exercising his sales skills while handing us the "Metro".
"Good morning ladies and gentlemen and welcome to the most beautiful train station in the world.
My name is Jose and I ask you to remember:
you are not where you are! you are in Hawaii, on the beach, on vacation! Enjoy your day dreaming!!!"
And he would add on Mondays:" today is not Monday because Friday is running to replace it. Friday's around the corner, madam!
And people would smile and forget they're freezing and take the paper and go be happy as advised.
This character that weirdly enjoyed his small money job deserves a best salesmen prize only because of putting effort into "selling" a product that was not for sale.
One of those street people that carry life metaphors in their pockets.
Jose disappeared on a Monday when I was probably too cold to notice. I only realized he's gone one day in spring when a sad lady came to replace him. The "sales" didn't drop for sure but I couldn't help but wonder in which part of NY was Jose exercising his pitch now.
Yesterday I saw Jose in the train giving a speech in Spanish to a young lady, most probably his 13 yo daughter: "Margarita, la vida no es como un sueno, mi vida! La vida es un carnaval triste que te hace llorar...".He said more but faster and in a low voice and it all seemed to me like an encouragement more than an advice but the girl kept her eyes set on the ground.
Few more phrases and she raised her head, put on the i-pod earplugs and let the tears come out of her beautiful eyes...
It seems to me that Jose's philosophy says that happiness can only be promoted and injected into large groups by the poetry of fantasy.
Sadness remains to be given individually, portioned in slow tears and needs to be tasted as bitter piece of advice in loneliness.
Monday, August 10, 2009
on getting drunk and moving furniture
Last week on Wed, my bf and I drank almost two bottles of Shiraz in between arguments on politics, history, cultural differences a.s.o. My head was spinning while my mind was fighting arguments. Mind connection makes soul passion-full.
Love is when having an argument is better than watching TV.
Try this, after all, friendship is still the highest level of longtime love.
I also recommend to give yourselves a love project: try to move together a ridiculously big piece of furniture out of the room and of the house through the stairs, in front of the building.
Screaming, crying, yelling, laughing, abusive use of words with bad fame are all allowed.
Sure side effects: serious back pain.
Possible outcome: the piece of furniture will be destroyed at parts
Probable outcome: a funny memory of something that you hope to never have to do again
Things to reflect upon: Why don't they move furniture in the movies?
Love is when having an argument is better than watching TV.
Try this, after all, friendship is still the highest level of longtime love.
I also recommend to give yourselves a love project: try to move together a ridiculously big piece of furniture out of the room and of the house through the stairs, in front of the building.
Screaming, crying, yelling, laughing, abusive use of words with bad fame are all allowed.
Sure side effects: serious back pain.
Possible outcome: the piece of furniture will be destroyed at parts
Probable outcome: a funny memory of something that you hope to never have to do again
Things to reflect upon: Why don't they move furniture in the movies?
Monday, August 3, 2009
Street pick up lines
9 am this morning, 36th st and 7 Ave, Manhattan.
Tall beautiful women walks agitated heading probably to her work place.
Hispanic construction worker tries to walk next to her at the same speed while munching on his bagel.
"Mi vida, you are bonita like a movie star!" he says in her direction.
She tries to walk faster but silent rejection doesn't really seem to work on him.
"So, you think you're better than me, ha?"and he stops right in front of her.
"Actually" she says"I am better than you because when I look in the mirror I know I could never have Brad Pitt or this guy" and she pointed to a man in his late 30s, the Wall Street business man type.
The Wall Street guy smiles. I think to myself "Here is how the fairy-tale starts in the land of opportunity. He's a successful guy, she's a beautiful women- destiny! ".
And he says, without stopping, to the construction guy:
"She has a point, man!"
His "point" was pointed to somebody else...
Tall beautiful women walks agitated heading probably to her work place.
Hispanic construction worker tries to walk next to her at the same speed while munching on his bagel.
"Mi vida, you are bonita like a movie star!" he says in her direction.
She tries to walk faster but silent rejection doesn't really seem to work on him.
"So, you think you're better than me, ha?"and he stops right in front of her.
"Actually" she says"I am better than you because when I look in the mirror I know I could never have Brad Pitt or this guy" and she pointed to a man in his late 30s, the Wall Street business man type.
The Wall Street guy smiles. I think to myself "Here is how the fairy-tale starts in the land of opportunity. He's a successful guy, she's a beautiful women- destiny! ".
And he says, without stopping, to the construction guy:
"She has a point, man!"
His "point" was pointed to somebody else...
Saturday, August 1, 2009
technology knows coincidence and fate
Once upon a time I had my Yahoo password set up as "pointless".
One sunny day I entered the Yahoo site to see my email and a question in big bold letters was asking: "Is your Yahoo password pointless?"
My heart stopped for a second or two and then I laughed for a second or two and then I said "yes" to myself and clicked the question.
I read the article and decided not to change the password.
Later on, I did changed it with a word they advised that the password should be like.
Just to see how much coincidence is there, in e-life...
Further on to check: fate!
One sunny day I entered the Yahoo site to see my email and a question in big bold letters was asking: "Is your Yahoo password pointless?"
My heart stopped for a second or two and then I laughed for a second or two and then I said "yes" to myself and clicked the question.
I read the article and decided not to change the password.
Later on, I did changed it with a word they advised that the password should be like.
Just to see how much coincidence is there, in e-life...
Further on to check: fate!
The real trouble with being 30
So I heard that it is expected of women when turning 30 to become more confident, less irresponsible , a little bit sexier when annoyed and very frank on maternal and material issues if I may...
And I heard that if you are a single woman turning 30, you should prepare yourself to come up with smart answers when mother asks that annoying " why aren't you married like Lucy" whoever Lucy might be and to come up with smart lines when you dare ( mind : "dare" not "dream"!) to ask a guy out, whoever that guy might be even if you know too well that he's gonna let you down because your expectations are higher than what's expected of you and so on...
I am not quite single although that doesn't really save me from my mother and not yet thirty although I cannot turn and say "Ooops I barely missed the age group so I don't care" and this is the way I wellcome number 30 of my years:
I am almost 30 and I still read 16 on the others' faces when I enter the meeting room at work or at any other conference work related thing.
I am almost 30 and I still hear that "Oh she is so educated and highly professional for her age!" which by their faces sets me to the under 23 ignorant bliss.
I am almost 30 and even though I show my ID to the Big Man at the Deli, I still have to beg for the Corona that's not for me, it is not a to die for drink and let's face it now: how drunk could I get from that if I were 21?
I am almost 30 and when I look in the mirror it feels as if I were a gray haired 21 yo drinking a Corona.But that's only for a second because I pretend to know myself better, fortunatelly....
And I heard that if you are a single woman turning 30, you should prepare yourself to come up with smart answers when mother asks that annoying " why aren't you married like Lucy" whoever Lucy might be and to come up with smart lines when you dare ( mind : "dare" not "dream"!) to ask a guy out, whoever that guy might be even if you know too well that he's gonna let you down because your expectations are higher than what's expected of you and so on...
I am not quite single although that doesn't really save me from my mother and not yet thirty although I cannot turn and say "Ooops I barely missed the age group so I don't care" and this is the way I wellcome number 30 of my years:
I am almost 30 and I still read 16 on the others' faces when I enter the meeting room at work or at any other conference work related thing.
I am almost 30 and I still hear that "Oh she is so educated and highly professional for her age!" which by their faces sets me to the under 23 ignorant bliss.
I am almost 30 and even though I show my ID to the Big Man at the Deli, I still have to beg for the Corona that's not for me, it is not a to die for drink and let's face it now: how drunk could I get from that if I were 21?
I am almost 30 and when I look in the mirror it feels as if I were a gray haired 21 yo drinking a Corona.But that's only for a second because I pretend to know myself better, fortunatelly....
I'll be 30 in 3 days and never had time ((to) thank God!!!) or blog to dramatize about it but if I am not going to laugh at myself who will (not).
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