love, read, write

Once again I am sitting in a dark and dusty corner, reflecting my terrible deeds of these past weekends. Despite the notification set on my phone to vibrate and scream "BLOG POST BLOG POST BLOG POST" every Saturday at 4:00 PM, I have neglected my blogful duties and descended into the low levels of nothingness.

However, here I am, a new human, a new being, reborn from the filths of procrastination and ready to face the new life that is ahead of me. What gave me this life changing awakening, you ask?

Well for one, a friend who has asked me why I was not posting (which surprised me to think that someone actually checks my blog ^^), and also that pang of guilt when you see your blog in your bookmarks bar while you're searching up articles for your research paper due Tuesday.

Speaking of my friend, she made a blog! You guys should go to her blog, here. It's about reading and she posts every Friday about the books she read that week and opens the comments for discussion. Definitely check her blog out.


AND.
I am back to my blogginess.

Recently, I have come up with a fanstastical story idea that I will not reveal and only keep to myself. Because I need to develop it more. Plus it's not something that I'm ready to share yet. Heh.

Also recently, I came up with another fantastical story idea that I promptly forgot afterwards, putting me in this chronic state of stress that will most definitely linger through the week. I need to find another story idea !!

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Now, to move to the real bulk of this post. It

Barnes and Noble is my synonym to awesome. It is the place that pops up in mind when somebody says Heaven. It is the very essence of my being. It is the core of my heart. It is where I belong.

Yes, I may be over-exaggerating, but it has been and probably will always be the place that I love to go to, that I will probably go to most when I am old and have lots of free time and have a nice job with not too many work hours and a substantial pay and I have some time to spend happily. I have always dreamed of my future life (I'm sure everyone has), and every time I think of it again, I add new elements, new items to my list of "What-I'll-Do-When-I-Get-Old".
Here is my dream day:

It's been a long work day today, and I decide to go to a little cafe to buy a blueberry muffin and a coffee (or maybe tea, green tea). I sit down next to the window, looking out to the busy city and people briskly walking by, so immersed in their own lives and oblivious to the beating hearts all around them, pushing their way past to rush to their destination. I sip my coffee (or green tea) and finish my muffin. I sit, looking at the clock now, emptily looking at the little second-hand hesitantly ticking continuously and endlessly, remembering to pause a little at each second. 
I blink, and looking at the time, brush the crumbs off my lap and pick up my bag, swing it over my shoulder, and lift the warm coffee (or green tea) cup off the table. I throw the napkin away on the way out, letting the tiny bells jingle behind me as I push myself into the busy streets of bustling busy lives. 
At the next corner, I turn right and open the door to walk into a cool, air-conditioned building. I am met with a pang of silence, contrasting from the noise and hassle and beeping and honking echoing outside. I look back at the streets through the glass doors and windows of the building with the words "BARNES & NOBLE" inscribed backwards on the surface, so that the busy street-walkers outside can read the words appropriately. The noise from outside is muffled, and for a moment the bookstore is filled with the loud beeps and honks of the outside as another person walks inside. 
I turn back around as the door closes again, and I walk to a small circular table amongst other wooden tables set aside for the Starbucks' customers, set my coffee (or green tea) down, and place my bag on the table next to it. 
Pulling the chair back, I slowly seat myself and pick up the coffee (or green tea), now cooling from the time and temperature. I take a sip and close my eyes, listening to the soft music rippling from the speakers at the corner of the store. 
I pull out my laptop from my bag, place the bag on the floor leaning against my chair, and set the laptop on the table. My stories are still open from yesterday, and I continue it, typing away for another hour or so. 
Afterwards, I close my laptop, put it back in my back, sling it over my shoulder, and throw out my finished coffee (or green tea). Looking around, I walk towards the escalator situated in the middle of the store, sloping upwards to the second level where nonfiction and historical fiction are harbored.
Another hour passes while I skim through World War II, the Korean War, the Renaissance, and other events with capital letters and important people.
I leave the bookstore with a second bag now in my left hand in place for the coffee (or green tea) that had warmed my hand earlier, and I catch a subway to the nearest train station to the outskirts of town, where my tiny house is.
In the train, I sit at a window seat, with my two bags on my lap, and untangle my earphones to listen to some Chopin nocturnes or perhaps some Beethoven sonatas while I watch the scenery pass by my window. 
I walk home the last mile and unlock my way inside, putting my bags on the chair pulled back in a hurry from the morning, and put my keys on the hook hanging from the wall.
I walk to my office and emerge with a huge canvas and a paint kit, step out the back door and set my canvas down on the easel that has made indents in the ground from the months it has been blocking the grass from growing. 
I sit down in the chair and pull out the paints and begin painting happily until the sun sets, when I close my kit and walk back inside, letting the canvas dry on the table next to my window and putting away the canvas that was there from the day before.

This is sad. I am beginning to feel very cheesy and very 'eugh', if you know what I mean. Everything's so mushy and happy and it's actually making me feel appalled because of the extreme happy-rainbow feeling of it.

Anyhow, that was a small story that I wrote to accompany my idea of Barnes and Noble and the calm feeling it has (plus a few other cheesy accessories (paintingahemahem) that reek of the stink of blue cheese).

I quite often spend my time at Barnes and Noble, especially when my mother has lengthy meetings after Korean School. I'd ask her to drop me off at Barnes and Noble so that I could spend a good two hours wallowing knee-deep in the rich information and mind blowing stories that they nurture in their humongous sanctuary of novels and memoirs and pages and covers. First, I'd wander to the escalator because the first floor doesn't have too much books (New Releases, Top Selling Books, informational How-To books, New Nooks/eBooks, and Starbucks). From there I would basically wander without much purpose. I usually go to the nonfiction section first to look for some interesting books that I can read. Last time I went I found a particularly interesting book on Asperger's Syndrome, which I read about for an hour and a half, for example. There's not one specific section that I usually go to (though I do tend to always visit the Arts section at least once every visit), and I search through the shelves for interesting titles or topics or authors until I get about two or three that I can read for a few hours. I'd always sit right next to the window that stretches from ceiling to floor, facing the parking lot outside (I know, it's not such a great view, not like I'm looking at the Eiffel Tower standing majestically with my peripheral vision) and read the books with the sun as my reading light. My back would be to the Romance or Science fiction bookshelves (those are the bookshelves next to the windows). And there I'd sit for hours on end, jumping from nonfiction to fiction to How-To's to Biographies until I get the annoying Rrrrrrrrrrring! Rrrrring! ringtone that can only mean that it's time to recall where the books belong, put them back, and get ready to go home.

So yeah. Moral of the story is.
Barnes & Noble is awesome.


(You know, I should be getting money for this. I'm practically advertising the awesomeness of this store.)

(...)

(Naw, I'm just joking around. I don't need money for the awesomeness of Barnes&Noble. As long as it exists I'm fine.)







I hope you wallow in the cheesiness of these stories and also have somewhat of a good day.
(Somewhat. I emphasize the somewhat.)

Bye!