~ °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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~ dimanche, septembre 07, 2003 ~

Sometimes I feel like blogging all formally, using semi-witty statements and big words. But there are times like right now, when the vernacular of normal day-to-day speech prevails. I'm very fond of alliteration and consonance... all of you AP English students should know what those are by now. Today, I think I'll just type normally... minus the juggling elephants and singing wildebeasts. I'm just going to type like water in a used styrofoam cup... yep.
I got a postcard from San Francisco yesterday. Nice place... but all the turnpike-like roads and toll booths are annoying. I don't particularly like San Fran... nopers, not my brand of town. With my tendency to wander, I'm afraid I'll get run over by a trolley or picked up by a foofoo man. But I see how some parts of Frisco are alright... just depends where you go. LA is something else. I'm a native Los Angelican... or as the locals say, "Los Angelino". Yeah, In fact, I just came back from driving around there. Crazy drivers!!! People are always trying to cut me off at fast and furious speeds but they rarely succeed in doing so... hehehe. I don't really like LA anymore. It seems to get ghettoer and ghettoer each minute I'm there. First the grafitti, next the shady streetwalkers, then the shell casings in the gutters. It's GhEtTo in a whole new light... or dark. Not like the true ghettoness of northern California-where more laborors farm and innocent shacks abound. Here, there are few shacks... just freeway underpasses, and there are few laborors... just beggars. And it seems far more peaceful up there. It's hard to explain the two types of ghetto... in its true & nouveau classifications... but when you see it, you know it- eithre Ghetto spelled normally or GhEtTo spelled like an azn explosion. San Diego is the third popular city of the Golden state. I haven't much to say about it because I rarely go there... but to keep up with this critical no-good review, i'd say the only complaint I have is of the roads and motorists... anybody who's driven down there is familiar with the infamous 5 street intersections. But now I feel guilty about being such a poopie-mouth about these cities. They're good cities with rich histories and they are California... one of the bestest states there is. San Francisco has nice bridges and a cool, temperate climate... one of the "best in west." And for foofoo people, it's heaven. Los Angeles has really tall buildings that shine in the evening and you can see the skyline on one of those rare occasions when the sky is clear. And there's somewhat of a diversity. As for San Diego, well, I hear it's a nice place to live.
Why is Sacramento never really mentioned as a popular city of California. Fresno is more popular than Sac. Although according to Time Magazine (that is I think it was Time), Sacramento is now considered the #1 Most Diverse City in the whole of the United States. They did a study and chose a typical street. The first house had an African American couple. Their neighbor was a Vietnamese-Caucasian couple. And I think their neighbor was a family of Russian-American Baptists. A true melting pot... not just a salad bowl.
Well anyway, thank you to the person who sent me the postcard... you know who you are, drinking un cafe in the middle of a bridge... sheesh. haha, crazy girl.

~Benjamin 9/07/2003 09:08:00 PM

~ samedi, septembre 06, 2003 ~

When I tell people that I'm going to be studying international relations, they either say things like, "Oh wow, that's highly admirable! We need more people like you in this day and age," or they say, "Bah, you need a career in numbers. What kind of job will that get you?" I see it as the difference between those who speak with encouragement and those who speak with criticism. But it's also the difference between those who see dreams and those who see reality. I just know that I like international... even the word sounds nice. And I like relations. I can work in business, in politics, in social reform, or in what have you.
I could've taken medicine, but I don't like blood. I could've taken electronics but I don't like technics . I could've taken law but who's laws would I follow? When I grow up, I don't want to be in a career where I'm stuck in a single workshop, factory, cubicle, lab, church, or in a dimensional rectilinear productivity habitat. I want to be where stuff happens... I want to be a representative of some sort... like that guy in "Castaway" or like the guy on tv reporting live from the Middle East. Then maybe, when I finally decide to settle down, I would like to go into teaching, mentoring, instructing. Then I would enjoy having a classroom of my own with pupils. I could take them on field trips, tell them all i know about what they need to know, and continue on learning for myself. Or I could settle down in the countryside, to own a luxurious bed and breakfast and meet fellow travellers with interesting stories to tell. That would be interesting. That would be quite a career, quite a future, quite a life.

~Benjamin 9/06/2003 07:13:00 PM

Many of my possessions are now travelling en route to Sacramento where they'll await my arrival on my way to UCDavis. So for the next 14 days, I have only to wear half of my wardrobe, sleep without my pillows, and spend my days without the conveniences, luxuries, and entertainments of... my stuff. My plane tickets are all reserved- a roundtrip ticket (I leave on 19 Sept. and come back on 14 Dec.)
Now all I get to do is go out with friends. :)

~Benjamin 9/06/2003 12:30:00 AM

~ mercredi, septembre 03, 2003 ~

An ube boba shake for breakfast... what's wrong with that? It was delicious. Shakey's mojo potatoes are good. Today is 3 Septembre already? Oh no, this Friday, I'm getting my wisdom teeth pulled out. But thank goodness I'm still 17 and deserving of general anesthesia. I can't handle needles very well... I was telling Anna the other evening about how psychologically allergic I am to them. Even when I go to get a cavity fixed, I ask to be drilled without the anesthesia. It's just better that way. I don't like being able to bite numb lips.
I'm starting to pack for Davis. I have to purchase my airline tickets this evening. If not, I'll take the train. I've never ridden on a train before... even if it's an Amtrack, it should be an interesting nouveau experience. 16 days.

~Benjamin 9/03/2003 05:29:00 PM

En memoire de Floy Catabas (1932-2002)