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Coffee/1369 Coffeehouse (Inman Sq.)

So, I also realized today that my little blurb over to the left talks about food, and I haven't mentioned it once (unless you count the beerfest, because beer is a food). And in the spirit of turning over things--new leaves, unturned stones, etc--here's a rip-roaring account of my trip to the 1369 Coffeehouse this morning!

On the sunny corner of Cambridge and Springfield streets in Cambridge there is an institution of sorts. But instead of crazy people like at MIT, this institution has nerds. Coffee nerds the likes of which can be found at just about any independent (i.e. not Starbucks or Dunkin Donuts) coffee shop in the city. They sip their macchiatos with deliberate pretension, smacking their lips in an extravagant, even obscene, display of contentedness--as if to say, "Ah, now that's the delicate yet robust taste of stickin' it to the man!" But the 1369 Coffeehouse is not just about proletarian capitalistic ideals. And yet, as much as conceited coffee connoisseurs annoy the piss out of me (SEE: Coffee/Someday Cafe (Davis Sq.) - Not Yet Written), I have to admit their choice of Inman Square venues is second-to-none. The cafe is medium-sized, with plenty of tables and people-watcher window bar seating. The lighting was perfect, with plenty of sun in front and cozier accomodations in the back. The music this morning was motown which I can hardly find fault with, and except for one dancing homeless man, the other customers seemed mild-mannered and intent on their various nerdery. Not to be left out, I got caught up on my reading for class while I enjoyed a blueberry muffin--not bad, not fantastic--and a double cappuccino--over-priced and under-foamed. So, to break it down, the atmosphere tops the offerings, at least on this go-round, but it seemed like a great place to read (or write) a book.

Update on Updates

So this semester has been a bit different from last fall in terms of blogging. I still want to do it, but it doesn't seem to come up as often in my daily routine. So instead of posting three times a week, I've reduced it down to about once, and avoided presenting any actual information when I do manage to type something up. (Witness 300 words on my lamented but hardly noteworthy cell phone). Anyway, since I'm gearing up for the last few weeks leading into finals, I'm going to try to add a little structure to my life on the internets. With great ado, and no small amount of fanfare, I would like to present the new BeanSchedule (that I just thought up five minutes ago)!

Monday/Tuesday - Miscellania (people, places, things I want to meet, see, and do)

Wednesday/Thursday - Politics & Academia (what I'm studying/ranting about at the moment)

Friday - Entertainment (movies, tv, books, music, internets, dance?, arts & crafts?)

Weekend - Me time (anything else I'm doing that's worth mentioning)

So there you have it. A little reference for anyone who wants to know what to expect when they tune into my wavelengths. Needless to say, that's hardly set in stone, it's just a loose guide. Cheers.

Death of a Cellsman

So before heading out the door to go to work this afternoon, I switched my trusty Nokia 3200 to silent mode and slipped it into my pocket, just as I usually do. A few hours later, during a rare lull in macchiatos, I took it out to check for messages (because I'm popular) and what have I discovered? It's dead. No life. Nary a digital twitch or phosphorescent glimmer to be seen.

Having just charged it, I was instantly suspicious. Had it been hacked bluetoothily by some ne'er-do-well in the cafe? Hmm, probably not. Had I somehow damaged it while it was "secure" in my pocket? Possibly, but difficult to be sure. I decided that it must be just dead, for no reason, struck down by a callous (cellphone) god, indifferent to my noki's interchangeable faceplates and oh-so-handy flashlight feature.

I mourned. I panicked. And then I checked the lost and found and discovered a treasure trove of discarded phones to run some trial and error tests with. After countless tests and exhaustive research, my phone's cause of death was determined to be the little piece that I could hear rattling around when I shook it. Like a blood clot that had broken loose, that piece made its way inexorably to my phone's heart. There was nothing anybody could have done.

The circle of (cellphone) life, however, goes on. One of the lost and found phones was a clunky, chunky old Nokia 3560 that used the same charger. A quick swap of the SIM card later and I was back in business with the same phone number, only minus all of my contacts and fun pictures. So, the moral of the story is, call, text, or email me your damn phone numbers.

P.S. I was looking for an excuse to switch to TMobile anyway, thanks capricious (cellphone) god!

Ye Gods

Oh lordy, too busy. It's the run-up to spring break, and I am already behind on my project due next Thursday, so I don't have lots of time this week (except for Kingdom of Loathing, thanks Ben). But I wanted to do a couple of things real quickly:

1. It's Mardi Gras, and as much as I admire the pluck down in the Big Easy, I can't help but think things are gonna get even sadder before they get better.
2. It's Cecilia's Birthday (23), so happy birthday to her! I love you!
3. It's Amanda's Birthday on Thursday (25), so happy birthday to her!
4. The port thing is just politics, and bad politics at that. For the first time ever, I'm on the President's side.
5. And that saddens me, greatly.
6. And I'm going to bed.
7. Lastly, I'm dying to play a few rounds of 1000 Blank White Cards.