Friday, March 01, 2002 car just died again....ARG!
and i JUST got home from the coffee shop...
at least i was able to get there and back before it died again
i think it's jealous of my table
my table is this is "from near the corner table"

It feels good to be back. I thought about mentioning to the girl who works here how i have not been around in a long time because of school and car problems...but i didn't want to freak her out making her think i'm stalking her or something. (i found out today her name is Meghan..but i promise, i'm not stalking her..that would just be strange.)

The people at the (my!) corner table are discussing the idea of barcodes in hands as identification..and the possible locations of Ben Laden. At the table: a boy about 18-20, his father probably around 45, and his grandmother in her later 60's i suppose. They are kind of strange...i deem them so. You can absolutely tell by their conversation that they are related.

I don't like to talk politics. "What will be will be." as Kelley Anne says.

Cold chai tastes exactly like hot chai, only it's cold with ice cubes instead of hot with froth.

The grandma says she's going to call CNN and tell them that ben Laden is in Miami. She's sure of it.
I've never heard any group of people become this excited about media crap and Ben Laden...sheesh.
Personaly, i enjoy my bubble of oblivion.

No choir now i must figure out what to do for spring break. It would have been nice to have been able to plan in advance....again i say...sheesh

I wonder where that guy was from...?
He was talking about needing a work visa. He barely had a foriegn accent..and wasn't here long enough for me to get an idea of where it was from. Maybe he'll come in again next time I'm here.Maybe he'll talk more...

She (the grandmother) is a funny little woman. I like grandmothers.

Dreads! I don't see much of those around here. He's a regular. Known by his drink. He knows Meghan's name (that's how I know her name) He knows the other regulars, too. (a few come in shortly after he gets his drink) Slow rainy day...but the door is constantly swinging. Where did all of these "regulars" whom I've never seen come from? I'm so out...
I wish I had more time for this. I think I'll continue the Friday afternoon tradition. I like these regulars I've seen.
Dreads guy composed a quick poem to a few of his "regular" friends as he walked out the door.
He's got joy. I wonder how deep it goes...