Let’s take another trip to this place:
When I was younger [elementary age, I believe], on a few occasions I pulled out our big children’s book of poetry. It was a thick book with 12 or so themed chapters with tons of poems. It had a green dust jacket that was a little bit tattered around the top and bottom of the spine, so I guess it must not have been a new book, but I don’t really know where it came from. I’ll have to ask my mom when I go home (!!! 2 days!).
Anyways, there were poems from Ogden Nash, Edward Lear, Lewis Carroll, etc. It was from that era where children’s literature is more instructive than child-friendly, as illustrated by poems like this one:
In the family drinking well,
Willie pushed his sister Nell.
She’s there yet because it kilt her.
Now we have to buy a filter.
Talk about gruesome and macabre. The point of telling you about this book isn’t to recount gross poems though. The point is that I know the Lobster Quadrille By Lewis Carroll by heart. And I never memorized it. Never. I may have read it a few times, but all of a sudden, one day in middle school I realized that I knew the entire thing by heart.
I really didn’t ever memorize it. And I don’t think I read it that much. Just, all of a sudden, I knew it. And still do know it. It’s not even really a poem worth memorizing since it doesn’t have much meaning – particularly taken out of its context in Alice in Wonderland.
That’s one of the weird phenomenons that I’ve been thinking about today.
Also, I decided to change my Starbucks Tuesday/Thursday dates to be Beijo de Chocolat dates. (And by date, I mean date with myself and Matilda the laptop and whatever homework I have left… don’t get excited) Beijo is an award-winning, internationally known Brazilian chocolate shop down the street from my dorm. They have superb coffee, tea, CHOCOLATE, and crêpes(on Saturday mornings). I was reminded a little bit ago that I’m not really a fan of some of the things that Starbucks supports (not that I condemn Starbucks customers, but I’d rather buy coffee regularly somewhere else, I’ve decided), so I’m glad to have another option down the street.
Beijo is a little bit quieter, less populated, with (I think) better coffee and decor.
But the sizes of drinks are the best part. I don’t order small, medium, or large. I don’t order in tall, grande, or venti. Nope.
I order in hugs, kisses, and love.
Not that I ask for coffee and they hug and kiss me instead (how awkward that would be….). The sizes are abraco, beijo, and amor, Portuguese for hug, kiss, and love.
And I really just enjoy that. A lot. Another reason to love the place God has put me: good coffee.