Cute Barista Guy

Sitting at a table not quite outside but next to a big open window at a cafe, eating a scrumptious just baked butter croissant (ahhhhhhhh, yum...hopefully my stomach won't hate me later), sipping a decaf, and things are good. The barista, who is really cute I have to add, gave the woman in front of me in line her drink and said, "Something something AmeriCANo," like tuna can or soda can, not like Genghis Khan. Then he turned to me and said in a singsong voice, "I am...too weird...for this job..."

Barista guy at JJ Bean on 6th and Commercial, if you're reading this, you're cute. Let's go out.

(Uh oh, I just gave away my approximate location...So much for staying anonymous.)

Actually, on the subject of anonymity, I've decided to open this blog up to my Facebook community...And I still retain the right to say whatever I want. I'll try to leave the personal comments (as in, about other people) to a minimal.

In other news, yesterday, I had a sobfest. Just broke down, fell on the floor, beat my fists on the floor, the whole shebang. Haven't had one of those in a long time. It sucked, but it also felt good. I recommend it to everyone.

(This was me)

During the sobfest, I was obviously really upset, thinking about certain happenings in my life, screaming "Why me? Why me?" like Nancy Kerrigan after being hit in the leg with a crowbar:

My cat, Jack, curled up next to me on the couch and purred and snuggled up and I wished that humans could be like animals, loving unconditionally. What is it about humans that makes us think we deserve something in return for love? I'm guilty of it, too, I know this. And I'm not saying we don't deserve something in return for love, but...instead of just letting go and letting God (I can just sense some people cringing at this, but, whatever), and accepting love and not expecting anything in return, we scream and cry and rage when we don't get what we want out of love.

That's what I was doing, that's for sure. Can I imagine myself loving unconditionally? Not a chance. I hate to admit that, but it's true. Maybe someday, when I'm no longer human. In another life, when I am a cat.

(P.S. I'm sorry for the ugly lines above, I can't figure out how to make them go away...)


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