At Starbucks. It’s walking distance from my aunt’s apartment and I like to go here to get away. One caramel macchiato and I can sit here for hours. Reading, people watching, messing with my Blackberry. There’s a little table with some sale merchandise on it – really cute little cups with saucers, little teacups that remind me of Japan. They have no handles and have a hand-made look to them. There are four of them, three green and one blue. I love them. Funny, when I pick them up, I think of serving liquor in them, not tea. They make me think of entertaining and friends so I want all four. Doesn’t matter that they’re not all the same color. At $2.99 a piece, they’re a good deal except for two things. 1). I can’t really spare the $12 and 2). I don’t have a place of my own to bring them.
I’m firmly against stockpiling shit when you have no place or use for them. My aunt and uncle won’t appreciate them because they only drink out of pllastic tumblers and don’t entertain at all. I briefly thought of buying them anyway. Something for myself, ya know. God, I miss shopping and the joy of even the smallest purchase. But now I have to weigh four beautiful little handmade, handle-less, mismatched teacups that I cannot place right now against little things that help keep me sane while living back at “home”.
$12 could ALMOST get me a one way train ticket to NYC. $12 can get me a Starbucks beverage and a tasty salad from Adams (a local Whole Foods type spot). $12 can go towards the newspapers my grandfather always asks me to bring him at the nursing home. $12 can get me a new book to read. $12 can go towards my cell bill or my storage unit fee, two things I struggle to cover each month. Maybe I’ll finally be able to get that AC adapter for my laptop that I’ve been needing since March if I pass on enough cute teacups.
I REALLY want those cups. Most of all because they represent where I want to be: home, in my own space, with my own things, with the ability to take advantage of a random bargain, and the proomise of boozin’ it up with friends on the horizon.
bourgie, interrupted 