Thursday, November 13, 2008

Live, from West Coast Coffee, It's Thursday Afternoon!



Greetings from West Coast Coffee, and from the very few minutes of my weekend! I don’t mind telling you that I think I’ve earned this weekend --- our first fifty pages of our screenplay were due this week, and my mind’s a little melted after all that writing. Not that I don’t enjoy it! I know how rare it is to have a semester (or even a major) that allows you to earn credit and take time to do exactly what it is you love to do, no questions asked. But, you guys, for ten nights now I’ve dreamed about typing. I’ve just spent too much time in front of the laptop! Not even interesting dreams, just six hours of pushing space bar and backspace and a couple letters every so often. You wake up more tired than you went to bed.

So of course, what am I doing now? Updating the blog. What can I tell you….it’s another grey day, of course, but it’s getting really tolerable. In fact, I’ll tell you this --- ready for this admission? I really like the weather here. Isn’t that gross? It’s never sunny, but when it is you make the most of it. And otherwise, you just bustle around, dodging rain, always thinking of the next warm place you can go to get out of the chill. I like that kind of single-mindedness.

This past Sunday they threw the switch on Dublin’s huge Christmas tree on O’Connell Street, officially starting the holiday season here. We were disgusted with the premature enthusiasm everyone had until we realized that with no Thanksgiving to celebrate here, there really isn’t anything to stop Christmas from beginning as soon as Halloween’s over. So I’m a Yuletide fool already, and it’s Dublin’s fault. I’m always over the moon when it gets close to Christmas, but with everything in full thrall here, I’m a disaster. The streets are all decorated with “Nollaig Shona Duit” signs and “Happy Christmas,” and I drink gingerbread lattes and look at the advent wreath that’s already set up in my coffeeshop.

So no, I don’t think there is a problem with having my X-mas Xtreme playlist all made. I’m exercising some self-restraint, at least. Be proud of that! And anyways, I wouldn’t be so excited about Christmas if I didn’t know that it meant coming home.

Here, to prove it, transcribed directly from my class notebook:

“Things to Look Forward to: the Homecoming Edition!
- seeing my family!!!
- being in the same time zone as everybody!
- driving!
- Target!
- Christmas parties!
- Having at least two pillows to sleep on!
- Trader Joe’s!
- Hugs!
- the possibility of snow!
- More sunshine than rain!
- Clementines! Tortilla chips! Root beer!
- my ukulele!
- Christmas lights! Gingerbread!
- Diversity!”

Obviously, I’m excited, and my capitalization is inconsistent.

One of the nice girls who works here, who knows to get down a mug and start making a mocha when she sees me cross the Liffey, is going home to Argentina in two weeks. And I’ll be leaving in four weeks. It’s still a while, but I know it’s going to fly by. I am a little scared.

In any case, West Coast Coffee’s still here, and I’ve still got my little routines, and even though I wish you were here, I hope you’re as excited by whatever’s creeping around the corner in your lives as I am.

2 comments:

Cathie Schorn said...

Yep, Monica, we're getting excited too. It makes Christmas much more "twinkly" because you've been away, and now you'll be coming home. It's true: Absence makes(the)Christmas (grow)happier!

love, Mama

Anonymous said...

In Henry Adams's novel Democracy, a party visits Mount Vernon:

"Here is an old sun-dial. Do you have sun-dials in Ireland, Lord Dunbeg?"

"Yes; oh, certainly! What! sun-dials? Oh, yes! I assure you there are a great many sun-dials in Ireland, Miss Dare."

"I am so glad. But I suppose they are only for ornament. Here it is just the other way. Look at this one! they all behave like that. The wear and tear of our sun is too much for them; they don't last. My uncle, who has a place at Long Branch, had five sun-dials in ten years."

"How very odd! But really now, Miss Dare, I don't see how a sun-dial could wear out."

"Don't you? How strange! Don't you see, they get soaked with sunshine so that they can't hold shadow...."