La crêpes, La books, La coffee

  Today I had the best the best crepe I have ever had. Somewhere in sunny Florida there is a little piece of France tucked on a small-town street. This lovely eatery is called La Crêpe. I had a "Cornado" which is scrambled eggs, avacodo, salsa, and cheese I can't pronounce or spell all wrapped up in a slightly crunchy crêpe. I love little gems like this. I love how it's authentic(pretty sure the cook was actually frence) and how the atmosphere was petite and calm(I dislike loud eating places).  I also enjoy breaks from the busyness of life. It's nice to just sit down, order a pot of Jasmine tea, and listen to the french music as you wait for your crêpe. If you have never experienced this than perhaps you should schedule it in somewhere in your near future, I do not think you will be disappointed.
And if you aren't up for crêpes, I suggest planning in a few hours to just explore wherever you are at, even if it's your home town. Go on a search for little treasures that might be hidden in plain sight. Or look up  Yelp! for places you've never even heard of.
  On the same street as La Crêpe is a beachy coffee shop called The Sun Shoppe Cafe. I went there the other day and got there specialty drink, the Heroine. I try to get specialty drinks from locally run coffee shops because I feel like it really helps me take in the full experience. Sadly, the Heroine had mocha and this girl does not like mocha. I liked the drink otherwise, I just couldn't really get past the mocha. I'm a fan of peanut butter and I'm a fan of jelly, but I do not enjoy them together, in the same way I like coffee and I like chocolate but together... blech. 
It was still a good coffee shop, though. I liked the atmosphere and the service. I hope to go back before I leave town so I can get a mocha-less drink.
  If you continue further down the same street that we have been traveling on throughout this post, you will pass a very sketchy looking bookstore that I'm pretty sure is named BOOKS. It's a used book store that sells cheap books. It's fun. It's crammed. It's weird. It smells like old pages. What more could you want? I appreciate that there are no decorations or fancy signs. Just books stacked and spilling over shelves, just a guy wearing a Glenn Beck sweater, listening to the oldies station and selling used books. It's simple and I like that.

  In life, I tend to over-analyze, over-think, over-stress and over complicate. I get all these ideas and worries and pressures and responsibilities and before I know it I'm like one of those balloons that you see floating aimlessly through the sky...
                                                                 But coffee pulls me back down.
                                                                                      Writing pulls me back down.
                                                                                                  Over-sized sweaters pull me back down.         When life is getting too complicated(or I am making it too complicated) I have to go back to the             verses
                                                                     and poems
                        and crêpes
                                                                                                                                          and teas
                                                                                                       and songs
                                             and sunsets

...that keep me grounded.

Someday

I love traveling. I mean, that's probably obvious. The blog is Coffee Country, after all. I enjoy short trips and long trips, small towns and large cities. I enjoy tasting coffee and seeing how it reflects where it's from. It reflects a lot on the owners but also a little on the town. I love walking into a coffee house I've never been to. To me it is undiscovered. To me it is a new world I am the first to walk in and smell and taste and touch. My first time. I smell the air, cinnamon? Fresh grounds? Pastries? Each has it's own. I take in the art on the walls, the furniture, what the workers are wearing, what kind of coffee they use, what kind of merchandise they sell, what variety of drinks they sell, what muffins, I notice if the tables are round or square, it they have punch cards, what syrups they have. Everything
I really try not to critic it. I try to take everything in a accept it for what it is... And that works mostly but I think inside every writer is an editor. Maybe not, but thats how it is for me. What could be better? What would I do differently? What would maximize the comfort factor here? Is this it's full potential?
I really can't help it.
I'm rooting for the coffee. I want the coffee to win. I want people to love the coffee and appreciate the coffee. I am "Team Coffee". #1 Fan of the coffee. So everything I critic, I critic out of love.
Drab furniture weighs down the atmosphere. Unfriendly workers make people feel like a hassle. Roasting your own beans is cool but if you aren't good at it then don't sell that coffee, wait until you've learned to do it right. Cliché art make the place feel generic.
I take these metal note and write them down so I remember because someday I want to open my own coffee house. So if I learn this stuff now hopefully I will be prepared when I get to that point.
It's the same way with writing. I read books and enjoy them but I also pick them apart. I learn from the success and failures of other writers so that when I sit down to write I have some guidelines, some help. Like Eragon had the help of the old dragons when he fought Galbatorix. He never could've done that alone and neither could I.
I know I not anywhere near being ready to open a coffeehouse because there is so much I have to learn. So many places to go. So many aromas to smell. Brews to taste. Art to see. Chairs to sit in. People to meet. So, so much to learn.
And honestly, I'm not sure If I can learn all that in America... so who knows? Maybe someday this blog will be named Coffee World. (:

Plans for Life and Pictures of Trees, Mostly

  I took a walk the other day, out into a field so I could take pictures. It's a place I grew up. I climbed the trees as a kid and made forts deep in the woods. I pretended to be an indian, a pirate, a princess, a superhero. It was my Neverland.  Long summer days were spent out there, playing until I had to come inside, only to convince my parents to give me twenty more minutes please. I was walking around snapping pictures in the evening light, remembering the tree that has long been cut down, the swing that was removed, the forest that holds no more mystery. When I was a kid I was determined to find another Narnia, I thought if I just went far enough into the woods I would come out in some magical land.
  The difference between my Neverland and Peter Pan's is that I grew up and things changed. It isn't the place I grew up anymore, it's not the same and I'm not the same. But I wanted some pictures before it changes anymore.
The only thing I have left from my Neverland is a few faded dreams and a lot of writing ideas. I've kept these for a while because they remind me what I used to see- mermaids in the water, giants in the hills, dryads in the forest. And even though I can't really see them anymore I still remember what they looked like.
  Maybe I've been so reminiscent lately because I've really been planning my almost eminent future. I get the most nostalgic when I'm making big changes in my life. Today I sent in a letter to a collage saying I was coming next fall. I've already taking two gap years and so I've decided that I think it's time for something new. I'll be traveling around for the next few months before I say for sure, but I'm starting to get excited. And today I found out some really good news- the college I am planning to go to allows you to have a coffee pot in your dorm. *lets out a sigh of relief*
I'm about to head back to my travels and I'm excited to see what places I find, what coffee I discover.
I got some pictures developed a few days ago that showed a coffee shop I have yet to talk about. It was called Common Grounds and it was found in a little town in North Caroline called Apex. The feel was comfy and they made great Cafè Au Laits. I loved it. You wouldn't think it from the pictures but it felt sort of dark and subtle. I hope to go back someday.

       So, too conclude this random post: Here is a collection of pictures from where I grew up. Even though it's not as mysterious as it used to be for me, it still holds some treasures, I think.