Coffee Rhetoric: Peanut Butter and Peppermint Tea

November 09, 2006

Peanut Butter and Peppermint Tea

Honey I'm a roller concrete clover ... Arm wrestle your mother Simply over ... over you But beware my heart can be a pin A sharp silver dragonfly Trying to get my mansions green After I've Grey Gardens seen In between tonight and my tomorrows ... where have you been In between tonight I know...don't you fight Honey can you hear me In between been dragging a dragonfly Trying to get my mansions green After I've Grey Gardens seen Honey won't you hold me tight Get me through Grey Gardens tonight Trying to get my mansions green After I've Grey Gardens seen Honey won't you hold me tight Get me through Grey Gardens tonight -Rufus Wainwright, Grey Gardens (album: Poses)
It's official... I'm slowly becoming a recluse and this does not bode well with me. I would not classify myself as a social butterfly per se, but during days off from work, I usually like to busy myself with random errands, visit my family, or catch up with friends working at a nearby museum... something. Today was beautiful outside and I simply woke up this morning, bemoaning a stomach ailment I've had since yesterday, that may very well have been more psychological than physical. Either way, I didn't feel well... the unseasonably mild and breezy Fall air would've, no doubt, been good for me. Initially, I lazed around for a while composing emails and chatting with friends on Yahoo! Messenger. I glanced at a compelling novel I've been reading, didn't even touch it. Instead, I ensconced myself in a chair and usurped even more valuable free time, reading about the latest developments of the Britney Spears/Fed-ex divorce saga, unfolding on the celebrity gossip blogs and I snickered at a recent video where a disdainful looking Lindsay Lohan, exclaimed to the paparrazzi, that Paris Hilton was "a cunt." I, essentially, got wrapped up in nothing, when I could've been indulging in something, far more productive. I came to this conclusion, but not before deciding to wipe at a nonexistent smudge... repeatedly... on the very same glass table top I'm logging this entry from (and smudging, yet again, with my bare forearms). I sprayed a rather menacing looking spider with dust spray to no avail, he, she, it, simply scurried away. I stood up t0 put the kettle on for peppermint tea, and then I sat down. I peeked out the window, I paced, and I sat down again. I got up long enough to turn off the kettle, I sat down again and I sipped my tea... I went to the kitchen once more and ate half teaspoons full of Skippy's Roasted Honey Nut flavored peanut butter (my only A.M. sustenace). Enough was enough. Looking down at my well licked spoon and scowling, visions of the documenatry Grey Gardens, danced in my head. While I'm far from becoming the next Edith Bouvier Beale- (prancing around in squalor, living in a crumbling mansion, singing show tunes, clad in a fur coat and head scarf)- I was slowly becoming self-contained and somewhat mysanthropic. Sans money or avec money, I needed to get out outside, if only to get some fresh air and merge with the general populace, most of whom were outside enjoying the beautiful weather. As I pondered my self-imposed solitary confinement, I decided that I didn't want to become one of those sorts of people, who falls prey to social ineptness... trapped and in the throes of some sudden psychoses. The peanut butter and my preoccupation with the invisible smudge on the table, dictated that I needed out, it wasn't a matter of whether I wanted out or not. So I took a bath, self-administered a pedicure, got dressed, and ventured outside... breathing in the mild fall breeze... simply going for coffee, people watching, and browsing. Suddenly my nasal passages popped and cleared (I was oblivious to the fact that they were clogged) and my mysterious stomach ailment subsided. Also, perhaps it's time for me to plan a small gathering of some sort... just so I don't grow apart from the rest of society. It just requires one foot in front of the other. Not a difficult or strenuous feat, but a necessary one.