Words of Wisdom.

The Asian owner of my favorite Chinese food restaurant said something so adorably fortune cookie Sunday that I just had to share. Some background information first:

Near the downtown areas of Waterville is the Concourse, which consists of a number of stores and restaurants. My favorite haunt (besides Goodwill) is The Pagoda Express, an absolutely darling Chinese food restaurant. They actually have the best crab rangoon I have ever tasted, but that's not the point of my story. I try to order take-out at the restaurant every once in a while and I do make the effort to dine in, when I can con a friend into going with me, that is.



The staff at the restaurant knows me very well. I habitually order the same types of thing. There was added excitement over the past month that I have been visiting, because my caller ID has changed to read "Awesome, I Am." Anywho, that Sunday my old roommate Tori was in the area and we ordered take-out using her cellphone. The restaurant was empty when we walked in (it was near closing). My favorite waitress greeted me with "Are you doing awesome today?"

I laughed. "I am indeed!" I said. The owner of the restaurant, the previously mentioned man, was at the counter and the waitress came up and explained to him how my caller ID has a great declarative statement. I turned to Tori and said: "See, even the phones know how great I am!"

"Well I tell myself I'm awesome all the time!" Tori said.

The owner looked at Tori and said, "You tell yourself you awesome, you awesome everyday."

Fortune cookie wisdom, that man has it.

Coffee is my life-juice.

Coffee. It's my beverage of choice, as much of a vice as it is a virtue. When I was young, it was my mother's beverage of choice as well. She'd brew a pot every morning and load each cup up with cream and sugar. It was generally unwise to attempt conversation until that first cup had been consumed. During my high school years mum was attending university. On the mornings I woke before her I would try to start a pot for her, so when she had to roll out of bed at least a few of her ducks started congregating in row-formation.

Because of those morning rituals, coffee became this taboo thing for me, something that grown-ups consumed. I was certainly not going to partake in something so adult.

When I moved to Waterville, my first place of employment was at a chain-coffee shop called Tim Hortons. It's straight out of Canada, land of the People Who Take Their Coffee SRSLY. One of the company's laws was that every twenty minutes, you brew a fresh pot of coffee. The old coffee is dumped out, regardless of how much is left in the pot.

Being from The County, I found this attitude unacceptable! It's wasteful! So I picked up this habit of drinking expired coffee to save it from being tossed. It didn't matter that I disliked the taste, I drank and drank and drank. (Sugar and flavor shots helped fix the taste.) As a result, I developed a taste for the stuff (and a caffeine habit) and am addicted. Alas, my love was not meant to be. Several months ago I had an abrupt change of careers, and this dried up my coffee supply.

Fortunately, relief was around the corner! Relief by the name of Jorgensen's, a local coffee shop in downtown Waterville. I love the wide variety of coffees, from Butter Rum to Orange to various organic free-trade roasts. Jorgensen's is the place to be. They also have Gelato, which is Italian for "Frozen Frosting Ice Cream of AWESOME." (It's actually a gourmet ice cream dessert.) The coffee is a bit pricier that the chain stores, but if you're willing to stick around, they provide free refills at the self-serve stations and the coffee is free on every seventh visit. They even have free wi-fi. I'd never leave if I didn't have obligations, like a full time job.



Did I mention the chocolatiers across the street? <3

Cleanliness is next to emotional-stabilitiness.

It has been two long months since my last confession post. Since then I have experienced several life changes, some good and some not so. In times of great changes, I like to do a little bit of emotional cleaning. Alas, I am not referring to sitting down with a trained specialist and tearily confessing my troubles whilst wringing a hankie in my hands. No, to relieve my emotional turmoil I clean my house.

Of course it usually backfires, this 'cleaning.' Case in point:



My method of cleaning has always been to consolidate the mess to a centralized area and then clean the mess from that area. I have come to realize that this method is faulty and can lead to disastrous results, such as the inability to leave one's house as the door is barricaded by piles of books, electronics and such. (And that was just from the living room!)

Of course, after the inevitable clean-up (which is expected to be concluded on such a day that I am expecting visitors) I do look forward to the viscous cycle of experiencing another bout of emotional turmoil where I trash the place again.

Ah, the life of a semi-responsible adult. ;)

This entry filled with poor sentence structures and wordiness has been brought to you by sleep, or lack of it.

I'm what you'd call 'approachable.'

I live in the city of Waterville in the great state of Maine. I usually get a lot of laughs when I refer to Waterville as a city. If you came from a place where the animal population vastly outnumbered the human population, you'd consider Waterville a city. (Although in my old neighborhood, the feral cat population reigned supreme before the foxes moved in...)

Ahem. I live in the micropolitanistic city of Waterville. I am two minutes from the city lights of downtown. The opera house is a mere stone's throw away. There are five bars within walking distance. The local grocery stores are a half-an-hour journey. All of my needs can be fulfilled by taking a short walk. (And I didn't even mention the cafes and craft stores and chinese food restaurants.)

I walk everywhere. During these constitutionals, I stumble across many familiar faces. Most of the time these people don't recognize me or merely nod and look away. Today, while on a coffee run, a familiar face stopped me and we conversed.

Scene: Old Rite-Aid parking lot.
Woman - (goes out of her way to walk up to me) "Where do I know you from?"
Misty - (winces at end of sentence preposition) "I used to work at Tim Hortons?"
Woman - "Oh... well, no, that's not right. Do you live around here? In town, I mean."
Misty - "Yes, I'm over on Silver. I walk everywhere."
Woman - "That must be it then! I know I've seen you around! What's your name?"
Misty - "I'm Misty. And you are..."
Woman - "Dee."
Misty - "It's nice meeting you, Dee. I'm sure you'll see me around again. Have a nice weekend!"
Dee - "You too!"

And that was that. I wish I could say this was an isolated incident, but people come up to me all the time. My only pet peeve is when drivers ask me for directions when I'm crossing six lanes of traffic on a crosswalk. It's happened twice. I guess I suffer from supreme approachability. I can't say I mind it all that much, except when people are trying to approach me with their cars. I'm an entertainer and I love meeting new people and interacting with individuals from all walks of life.

Regardless of my approachability, people should stop asking me for directions. I get lost in the shower and frequently confuse the words 'left' and 'right.' Does that sound like a person you should trust directing you to the hosipital? :P

Charmed, I'm sure!

If you are reading this blog then you got here one of two ways - the internet faeries plopped you down on my tiny little piece of blogging real estate or I told you to come here. Not that I mind either accessing scenario. I'd like to think that I'm a pretty easy-going gal!

I've broken the rules as far as first posts are concerned. My first post was a placeholder post. Terribly unexciting if you ask me! So I'm going to follow up that lousy post with a better, more informative one. We are going to talk about my favoritest topic in the universe - me.

My name is Misty. My father named me after a rarely heard 1978 Def Leppard demo song titled "Misty Dreamer (Tomorrow Seems Like Yesterday)." I'm a typical Aquarius. When I get up in the morning, the first thing I look at is my horoscope. This strange relationship I have with the stars is as close to a religious experience as I can get. Don't get me started on the fortune cookies.

The purpose of this blog is to leave a public record of my doings for the world to enjoy. And by world, I mean my friends, family, and various co-workers. The content is going to focus primarily on art, writing, and the general musings of a twenty-something pirate princess. Did I mention the adventures? I love me some adventures!

Stick around, guys. I promise a good time and am capable of delivering said promise.

I have sold my imaginary-pretend soul...

...for a Blogger account.

Well, technically, I did no such thing. This account was free.