Transcribed from a small spiral notebook

24.2.08

First visit to the funky cafe' on the south side of College Av.

What do I smell?
Coffee. Not much else, nose is still a bit congested from wintertime.

What do I hear?
A blender. Later, the milk frother on the coffee machine. Rattling cutlery. It makes me miss the coffee shop at the [NSW] Art Gallery.

What do I see?
Black round table. Rustic wood floor. Remains of a sesame bagel on a glass plate, and half a generous portion of cream cheese in a plastic container that I'm tempted to put in my pocket and take home (but for the mess and lack of refrigeration). An old radiator beside me, non-functional, purely decorative, cool to the touch. Truck book - almost done. It makes me laugh out loud every few pages and I have to stifle my giggles (they turn into coughs) because I'm in public.

What else do I hear?
Patti Smith.

What do I feel?
Cold air from the door, and the table top is so cold to the touch that when I first rested my forearms on it I thought it was wet.
And I feel like I'm travelling.
And I also feel sad, like I have a big hollow inside me that I miss and will never fill.
You can see a pile of snow out the window, past the footpath and beside the road, where the plow has plowed it up, but otherwise it's all concrete and buildings.
I sometimes look up from the book and out and I recognize the look from the inside as one my friends in 7th grade (8th grade?) made merciless fun of.
I've always been a melancholy and overdramatic girl.
I am probably sad now about the same thing I was sad about in 8th grade.
I also feel a soft coat on my tongue and mouth-roof from the cream cheese, and a rough bitter tang on my teeth from the coffee.
I'm in jeans and a black sweater. I only did powder foundation this morning, not liquid, because it's the weekend. My hair is growing back into shape from the last trim and falling in my face. Yay. The salon called this week to remind me of a scheduled fringe trim on Saturday (yesterday) but my bangs are not yet long enough to trim, definitively proving that she cut them way too short last time. I might postpone my proper cut as well, later. The best way to grow your hair is not not cut it.

What do I feel?
Happy like I'm travelling, sad like I've left my past behind and have a broken heart.