Having reached the tender age of 25 some months ago with little in the way of fanfare, I have decided to graduate myself from the angst-clad shackles of Dead Journal and enter the entirely more sophisticated and acceptable realm that is BLOGGER. Considering that I simply typed BLOGGER.COM into my URL bar and it practically set up an account by itself, I consider this switch predestined.
So what of my life now? Certainly there have been many great changes. I have moved from the borough of Manhattan, so-named for the misogynistic cap-wearers that purchased it from Indians who didn't even own the land in return for tiny glass trinkets and small-pox, to the mythical Kingdom of Brooklyn, a small land at the westernmost terminus of Long Island where persons exchange oyster shells for currency and appreciation for baseball is mandatory. Here I live in a small but comfortable apartment in a neighborhood not far from the Brooklyn Museum, a grandiose palace filled with facsimiles of great paintings and originals of modern atrocities against good taste. Such is the nature of this neighborhood that signs intended to curb loitering must be written in English, Spanish, and broken French. Currently living with me is my talented and beautiful girlfriend, Maria, who spends winters teaching autistic children in the New York Department of Education and summers praying for beach days. Among our most prized possessions are a cast iron skillet that we have meticulously seasoned with our above-average culinary skills, a scarf knitted by Maria in the style of the fourth regeneration of Doctor Who, and a rocking chair that once belonged to my great-grandfather.
I myself still slave away behind a very expensive espresso machine in coffee shop belonging to one of the largest corporations on this, our Spaceship Earth. Shamefully donning my green apron in a shop not too distant from one of the oldest skyscrapers in New York City, I strive to finish my Baccalaureate Degree of History and Social Studies Education from Stony Brook University. As I will be student teaching in New York City's public school system this upcoming fall to finally complete said degree, I trust that this web log will become ever so much more interesting in the not-too-distant future. Until such time, I shall spend as much time as possible complaining about my coffee shop, which I will heretofore refer by the randomly selected name, THE DEATH STAR, and extolling the wonders and virtues of my friends and loved ones. Occasionally I hope to write about an interesting dream I have, since I tend to have extraordinary night-visions that people occasionally find entertaining.
God-willing, readers will find my writings and musings entertaining, educational, and yes, perhaps, even a trifle outrageous, though never maliciously so. Should they have any questions or concerns, they ought to exercise their curious desires and contact me using the usual internet channels. Until then...
I am truly...
Your Humble Barista
NEXT TIME: The Etiquette of Waiting in Line