Posts Tagged ‘coffee’

No, not Twilight.  Vampire romances never bit me.  I’m talking about an awkward teen in England that goes by Georgia Nicholson.

She shaved her eyebrows, went to a party dressed as a stuffed olive, but most importantly she taught me to laugh at my own self more while comforting me that I’m not the only person in the world that confides in my cat because that’s the only one that can understand me (sometimes, at least… sometimes even the cat can be heartless… does that make sense to anyone?).  She taught me the terms “sex god,” “have the painters in,” and “how’s your father,” and ultimately helped me to feel less awkward around guys.

I rediscovered my love (not of the lesbian kind, but one similar to a “man-crush”—I have a wonderful boyfeller) for Georgia when my English professor gave us an assignment to imitate an author of our choice, as long as the chosen author didn’t write poetry or plays.  It took me a while to decide on the perfect author for me—people threw out suggestions like Fitzgerald, Hunter S. Thompson and John Updike—but then a comment from an old friend on facebook reminded me (indirectly) of Louise Rennison, who wrote the series “Confessions of Georgia Nicholson,” and the first book is titled Angus, Thongs, and Full-Frontal Snogging.

This character, although fictional, is probably my “twin.”  Please, just find the book and read like, the opening page.  You’ll see why I say she’s my alter-ego.  We share so many similarities, except I suppose I’m a more mature version of her.

Georgia experienced seriously awkward moments in her life while she was growing up, and God knows I’ve had my fair share of “awkwardosity.”

She may have a 3-year-old sister that peed somewhere in her room, but my roommate has a Yorkie that can’t control her bowel movements… particularly in my room, for whatever God-forsaken reason.  She’s French-savvy (to some degree), and I struggle with it somewhat.  But I’m good with coffee.  I’m devilishly good with coffee.  In fact, I’m “double cool with knobs” when it comes to coffee.  Georgia’s so-called best friend, Jas, started a rumor that Georgia is a lesbian (which isn’t true, mind you), and my roommates nicknamed me “Shitney,” because of wonderfully awkward moments, a.k.a. dumb blonde moments, that I have from time to time.  I should probably also explain here that we have our own language called “shanguage,” that replaces the first two consonants in a word with “sh-.”  My name is Brittney.  Just think about that one a second.

So, here’s to you Georgia Nicholson.  May we meet someday in another world.

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So, I wouldn’t be a college kid if I didn’t procrastinate.

Tonight’s procrastination actually proved productive. This time, instead of facebooking, I made a “pot” of coffee (hazelnut from Golden Roast) in my French press, sat down in a big round chair bundled in a blanket with my favorite mug, a pad of paper and a pencil.

While jazz music played over and over in my head (and from iTunes), here’s what I came up with:

Cold, chilly weather
I am warm inside, bundled in sweaters
The lights are low, the room aglow
I sit, cuddled on the couch with you

Laughter from the room next door,
Hearts ablaze, and I pine for you
Your love, smile
Stay, for just a little while
Before lofty dreams I wander

Feels like home,
Wherever love roams.
From side to side,
Friendship abides
Letting life’s journeys take us.

Most of you that know me know that I love coffee. Well, I wrote a love poem for it… haha…

How your spell binds me
tortures me.
I am a creature of habit —
Aren’t we all?
Addict? I wouldn’t have it!
So relaxing are you, bittersweet to taste
Sipping you on a night such as this—
cold, dark and cozy.
Pair you with jazz and I could stay all night
I’m a fool for you, you know.
Lead me to a good coffee shop, and I may find love
Food may be the way to a man’s heart,
but love, coffee and music are the ways to mine.
Lead me to intellectuals, musicians and philosophers,
Peace-makers and artists.
I thirst for culture, diversity,
Open minds and free spirits…
…a home-y warm feeling…
Lead me home.

Yay poetry. It’s a nice change.

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