transit of venus

Hello. This is my new blog. 

This morning I drank dark coffee and sorted through old photos for my grandmother’s 100^th birthday party. I watched videos about North Korea on the internet. I got yet another urgent message about paperwork that I thought wasn’t  needed yet. I hoped it would rain more.

I stopped in at work to pick up my idea of an ideal-moving box. It’s sturdy, and squarish, and covered with the Café Vita logo. I guess, my thinking is that when I come back to Seattle, when I visit the tiny room where all my stuff will wait for me in the dark, I’ll want even the outsides of my boxes to reflect my idea of home. Home for me is a coffeeshop. I've been a barista a long time. 

I walked around my store with the box on my head.

I went to Japanese class; my last Japanese class of the year and my last class as an undergrad. After this, it’s just two tests and I’m finished.

But I don’t think I’m finished studying Japanese.

After class, I climbed into my car and spent time thinking about how I felt about the sound of Japanese when I first started studying it. Oh, I hated how it would get stuck in my head. I hated it’s sounds and I was frightened by it’s unfamiliarity.

Now, I feel comforted and at home when I’m enveloped in the sounds of a language that I’m still far from fully comprehending.

It's strange how home is this ever- evolving idea. 

This evening, I ate thai at a sidewalk table outside a coffeeshop while the rain poured off the roof just feet away. 

I read the paper. 

I thought about the unknown future.

I didn't see the transit of venus. It's been too cloudy here in Seattle.

I won’t pretend to know why some days feel more solemn than others. 

You might say it’s the rain.

But I’d say you’re wrong.