~ °Café de Terrasse° ~

The thoughts of an odd duck who sits alone in a night cafe, with a stylo in his right, a journal in his left, a valise under his chaise, a tasse on the table, and plenty of time to pass.

~ Salut! Come and join me at Table #12 |Leaving so soon? Ecrivez-Moi! ~

As of right now, patrons have patronized me. I feel...

The current mood of wearytraveller at www.imood.com

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~ vendredi, mai 23, 2003 ~

For three weeks, it continued to baffle the members of my family. Every night, as we all lay uneasily in our beds, we would wonder about the mysterious stealer among us. We asked ourselves and each other, the question of the month, "Who's been stealing all the cheese?" We wondered about this mouse of mozerella, this burglar of brie, this quick defrauding bandit of queso de bolla. Whoever it was, he/she has been responsible for naked bread at breakfast and slickers of fromage on the glass dining table. Everybody wondered about this latenight partaker of midnight everynight smorgasbords. Who was this infamous STEALER OF CHEESE?
Alors, I decided to do some investigating on my own. Now dear Sonya, I know I should have been sleeping last night but I heard a noise in the kitchen as I walked down the corridor to my chambre. I stopped and listened intently to the loutish chewing of cheese breaking up between the braces of a bouche. For twelve minutes, I just sat behind the railing, watching the shadow of this mystery person as he stood up, undimmed the chandelier, and obliviously revealed his identity. It was Lolo Marcelino- my grandfather, a rat. An innocent hungry creature who has been awakened by his appetance for a tasty milk curd; coagulated with rennet; separated from whey; and pressed into a solid mass. It was... interesting. Here is a man so peaceful yet hungry, nibbling and chewing on slices of queso de bolla and pan de sal. I watched for an hour as he consumed his victuals, dimmed the lights, went to bed, said a prayer, and fell asleep. Cher papa, your secret is safe with me.

~Benjamin 5/23/2003 10:03:00 PM

~ jeudi, mai 22, 2003 ~

There's this girl. I don't know her that well but meeting her has been such a priveledge. She was just on my mind a while ago and I had the sudden urge to blog hoping that by some strange miracle, she would read these words and know that I speak of her. I tell you, the spirit may lie but the soul always tells the truth. If by some bit of chance, I were to know more than what the coffee has told me, what I would not give for a disavowal of my cognitions. If by some chance, Poe were to appear before me with heeds and grains of sand, you would be the distant shore on which I head for sanctuary. Dearest mademoiselle, you would know the deceptions are mere if you listen intently. I've lost my heart, and I'll keep my feelings bare until I see a fitted moment for the veritable...

~Benjamin 5/22/2003 09:46:00 PM

~ mercredi, mai 21, 2003 ~

Il fait chaud! It is far too hot to be doing any sort of work at the moment. I could sure go for an iced caramel macchiatto right now, "new guy style". I need chilled air. I need rain. I need cloudy skies. Where is all the dreary weathre? When in college, I'm going to keep my dorm room at like, 52°F.

~Benjamin 5/21/2003 06:25:00 PM

"In the art of light conversation, shun the argumentative approach; the challenging statement. Avoid politics and religion for your host will certainly not thank you if you do not end up far with these topics." -Speak Better: The Secrets to Good Conversation
So I was with my weekly rosary group last Monday and gee golly molly, I have never seen such a prayer group gone wrong. My goodness. We were sitting around conversing about life in the United States when the conversation took a wrong turn and ended up going down the road of politics. Sometimes, there's no greater tragedy in conversation than the subject of politics. My father led the verbal attack on the actions taken by the man he calls, the "American tyrant" (Bush), knowing fully that there were strong Republicans among our group. Goodness, there was stomping and yelling and screaming. The assault of the inquisition was vicious. I couldn't believe the tension in the room. We finally all knelt and began to pray. For some reason, the small crucifixes on some of the rosaries began to fall off. People were scared. It was assez strange- A rather interesting experience it was.

~Benjamin 5/21/2003 06:20:00 PM

I have had quite a few blogworthy experiences over the past few days but I just haven't the time to post and publish. Even now, at 12:21 AM, I don't think I can go through with the rest of this post and alors, I'll have to cut it short soon. I need more time. We could all use a little time. Time goes by too quickly, even when it's slowly passing. Or maybe, it'd be bettre if I had less work. Time isn't the problem; all this work is the problem. I need coffee but not as much as I did two days ago. I am on Step 7 of my 12-Step Plan to reduce my caffeine intake. Just a few more steps to take and I can reach the platform of my goal... or was it goal of my platform? Whtvr. Anyway, hmmm... Probably one of the greatest cases for all eternity- Time v. Work et al. (2003).

~Benjamin 5/21/2003 12:46:00 AM

~ lundi, mai 19, 2003 ~

Friendship... so who believes in platonic friendships? Can a guy and a girl be friends without it getting romantic? Or are they doomed* for love in that way? What says you? When my commenting system is back up, please share.
.
*For lack of a bettre word. Actually, I found it to be an appropriate word- forgive me.

~Benjamin 5/19/2003 06:38:00 PM

~ dimanche, mai 18, 2003 ~

They are the corridors of our inner temple. Dreams are the passageways that our curious human minds can't help but explore. I don't think I dream every night and I can't see how people do. I consciously unconsciously dream perhaps thrice every two weeks. When I do dream, they tend to be powerful images and situations that defy the laws of my philosophy. Lately, my seemingly normal recurring dreams of marriage and travel convey a sort of encrypted message that I thought I understood. What does it mean when I'm marrying the same girl over and over and I'm travelling in foreign countries for mysterious reasons over and over? Perhaps I should go and consult a dream interpretation book but I think that dreams are meant to be interpreted by the dreamer.

~Benjamin 5/18/2003 03:33:00 PM

En memoire de Floy Catabas (1932-2002)