Bargain Shopping

I tried to make it to Anthropology today but walked inside Macy's instead. I landed in the shoe department. I thought it would be a quick trip. Then I found four pairs of shoes for forty percent off each, which I told myself was a bargain. Somewhere in there I got an extra ten percent off too, but it almost felt like buying a plane ticket, a cheap plane ticket mind you, but still a plane ticket. When I consider whether I would rather buy shoes or plane tickets, as much as the smell and look of a fresh pair of boots is enticing, I still choose travel any day.

I tried to make it to Anthropology because I remember the great experience there earlier this year meeting Mae, and finding the perfect jumpsuit, which actually looks entirely like a dress, so really it doubles as both. The perfect jumpsuit dress was also a perfect bargain. Long and flowy and turquoise.


The perfect turquoise jumpsuit dress was a dream buy, especially for someone who doesn't like to shop. It was January and I needed an outfit fast. Maybe I'll get lucky if I go to a store I don't shop at often, I thought to myself, and started scurrying around, eager for a magical clothing item to jump out at me. That's when I met Mae. She wasn't a magical clothing item, but she was her own kind of magic. She was friendly and we were both chatty. She talked with me about where I was going.

'I'm speaking at a storytelling event...in front of a couple hundred people," I told her. 

Only a couple minutes later, I found the dress and started getting excited. She agreed that it was the right pick. 'I know it's winter but..' 

I started telling her a little about what the writing piece was about and what my style of storytelling was like. I told her I wanted it to be fun, but also portray a sense of change and rebirth. Well, the dress was just that: colorful, light and airy. 

I was now officially getting more excited about the dress than speaking. Time to snap back into reality.

Mae asked me when the event was. Tomorrow! She then said she was off the next evening. She decided right then and there to purchase a ticket.

The next night, when the time came for the AZ Storytellers Project evening on New Beginnings, Mae showed up and I told her she could come sit with me and the other people who came to support me that night. I ended up sitting by someone who was a stranger 24 hours before.

It is only now that I am realizing that Mae is a coffee, and that the 87 Coffees project still could have some life in it yet. Her adventurous spirit and sense of style is inspiring. 

When we parted ways in the store that first day, I told her everything had gone full circle, as this meeting was completely giving life and breath to what I was saying about New Beginnings. She said now she had to come to see what I was talking about. 

Mae is a genuine, gutsy person, I could tell just by meeting her. She Facebook friended me because that's what happens after you take pictures together even though you don't really know each other. She told me she had a great time at the storytelling event.

I think it's important to get out there and live a little and I'm glad I have the turquoise dress to remind me of that. The dress reminds me of getting up there in front of all those people and of meeting Mae and if I wanted to interview her for a book, or really sit down for a coffee with her, I bet she'd say yes. She was a good reminder of when saying yes is a good thing.

In the new land of 87 Coffees - 1 year in Phoenix

Almost exactly a year ago, I remember looking down at the ground and the soil beneath my feet in North Carolina and realizing that I was getting ready for a big change. I asked my friend who I was walking with if she thought everything would be really different in Arizona. The desert. The ground there. Me.

Not sure why the ground was so fascinating to me but there was something about the physical act of being in one place and then moving and being in a different land, on different ground, soil, dirt. Being planted somewhere different. Putting roots down again.

It's been a year here already!! Woohoo! 

I am enjoying life and I don't think too much lately about the ground, or if I'm really different here or not. Every change changes a person and I think that's a good thing. I believe I am who I am supposed to be at this point in my life here, doing what I supposed to be doing. That brings my heart joy to be able to relax in that.

87 Coffees is all a part of the journey. I am excited that the stories have continued as I have lived here. I have found people to be so open and there are many experiences to be had with people in this new city.

Vanessa and Cornell, I have not forgotten about you guys. Thank you for helping me get to the top of the mountain when I was tired and entertaining my breaks every ten minutes. It was quite an adventure meeting you and you should know from now on I properly hydrate when I hike in the summer. More on your story to come.

I am so grateful for all the coffees and new friends I have met this year. In year two in Phoenix, my goal is to evolve this story so everyone can actually read about their encounters! I know, amazing, right?!

You are faithful friends.

Rough draft

Tonight my phone went dead at Harris Teeter, which isn't too unusual.

One of my cashier friends told me she was excited to be part of my book, you know because that's what I talk about when I see people.

I almost ran her over tonight. We were talking as I was driving away and she kind of walked right in front of my moving car. She said "if you run me over, how are you going to have anything to write about?"

The good news is that there is a book in the making. Teresa was drawing pictures of dresses on receipts when I saw her tonight because she designs clothes. I asked her if she could design something for me and she said 'anything but those jeans! You're always wearing jeans.'


:::

What a short synopsis of many, many encounters with Teresa. This one from my drafts, never published. I was going back through to check out what I had still in there.

More on Teresa later. I'm going back to North Carolina this week so that might encourage some tales to be further documented.

It's amazing how much of our stories -- and us -- are still in rough draft form.

That's okay! Write it down, girl! (Me speaking to me, and you too, if this applies to you).

In defense of coffee and purple hair streaks

There are 75 things I could be doing right now, but on purpose I decided not to do any of them because what I needed to do was write for a few minutes.

I have interesting experiences with new friends (some people call them strangers) everyday and in this, I try and record the humanity and the connection behind the encounter. Sometimes this happens over actual coffee, sometimes we plan to have coffee to learn more, sometimes, what I call a 'coffee' is just the experience of meeting and knowing a new, unique person.

When I moved to Phoenix in September, I had a completely blank slate calendar. This was a whole bunch of things: freeing, terrifying, exhilarating, confusing, exciting, and so utterly new and strange. Where do you go with a blank slate life? As a free spirited dreamer who seems to live with a realist deep inside her, I knew eventually and little by little all the things that actually make up a well rounded life would start to creep in again, and that's what started to happen, how dare those well rounded things! But that's what is needed for a person to feel grounded and connected. We need to start building routines and stability.

87 Coffees often feels like what I do when I'm living the soulful, free-spirited, non-routine life, as I'm going in-between one season or as I'm traveling from one place to the next. A lot of my 'adventures' for this book took place during last year when I was doing a lot of traveling. Now, I'm more planted, and starting to feel like it would be easy to get back to the day-to-day (which is needed), where I forget to see the adventure and beauty in simple moments all around me.

I know God has wired me to be a little bit of an adventurous spirit. And to see the possibilities of getting to know people. There's so much wisdom if you let people and their lives teach you.

Today I saw Tamera who cuts my hair. It is worth noting that today she not only cut my hair she helped me live out my new inspiration to put color in my hair by putting purple chalk streaks in my hair. So. Much. Fun.

Tamera is a creative, too. She told me that she her interests change all the time so she can have something new to tell her customers.

It seemed curious. Like she has a dual job, to tell stories to the customers. At least that's what she likes to do, I think. We think we'll try to get actual coffee sometime and she can tell me more.

I'm glad I'm back to my focus with this book. I'm glad I'm back to meeting all the people with all the stories.

Everyone can be a storyteller, if they want to be. Perhaps the world's best storytellers are disguised as cool hair dressers.

Being Invisible is the Worst

"I am late to court," man next to me said.

I got up to leave because I didn't have enough cash to pay for my fingerprints.

"What are you here for?" the man asked me as I walked toward the elevator. "You shouldn't need cash to get fingerprints."

"Substitute teaching."

"Oh....yeah. You do need cash if you're here for THAT."

Meanwhile, I heard another guy exclaim "Why do all these ----- (insert numerous swear words) get to go ahead of us?"

"See you later," I said to the man who was asking me about the fingerprints.

"Good luck."

I walked back outside and was about to cross the street to the CVS when I saw Ed the Hotdogger's stand again. He had given me a hot dog and two waters earlier, and a free bag of chips. So I went back to talk to him for a minute.

I passed a homeless man on the corner, sitting with his dog, who knew me by now, too, because this was the second or third time I'd walked by him as well. He smiled at me, but we didn't exchange words this time. He probably could sense I was in a hurry. I was. My meter was running out and I still had to get fingerprints.

I had given the man one of the bottles of water the first time I passed by. It was so hot out and he had asked me if I could spare anything. I pass by so many people everyday, and I KNOW, I KNOW, you can't help everyone, but something about this man was different.

Maybe it was the fact that I was about to walk by him THREE MORE TIMES.

What would it have been like if I walked right by him the first time?

I walked by Ed again, and he asked me if I needed anything.

Eight dollars?

I was kidding, but Ed said it would be no problem to exchange money and I could get some cash from him. He even gave me a free lemonade.  With his help, I got back up to the station quickly and would (hopefully) not get a ticket on my parked car.

I don't understand grace sometimes. I don't know why God would show me His love through other people.

This story, these coffees, they teach me about grace.

I walked by the homeless man again (third time? I lost track) on my way back, eight dollars in hand.

"What's your dog's name?"

"Mary Jane."

I smiled. All I could think to ask was, "how is Mary Jane doing??"

"She's doing good," he said, and smiled.

"Good.." I walked on, ready to go through security AGAIN.

Most of the time, I admit that I don't know what to do with people living on the street. In all my coffees and all my endeavors to love people, I am still a cautious person. I've had people take advantage of my 'niceness,' and I know sometimes friendliness gets misinterpreted.

On the other extreme, it's easy to become callous. It's easy to forget that there are times you bump into people again and again (literally) and if you don't see people, what a loss. What a terrible loss.

I say this to myself because it doesn't come as naturally as it seems. This is a girl who is still afraid in big cities sometimes, who doesn't like abrupt interactions with strangers, who has no words most of the time when greeted by people on the street.

There are a million stories and we all have them. I'm not a martyr for giving a man water. I don't know if Mary Jane's owner would want to be in my book or not (I know Ed the Hotdogger would, he was excited). But I think he has a story, too. I may not learn it. I may not publish it. I don't even know his name. His dog is now more famous than him. Tongue tied, that's all I could think to ask. But that's okay. At least he is not invisible. That's all any of us can ask for. Being invisible is the worst.

*stay tuned for more on Ed the Hotdogger

Let's Make a Commerical

Today I met Janet and Mike in one of the million Starbucks around Phoenix. I was at the wrong Starbucks for my meeting, but when you're in a coffee shop, how can you not stop and have a 'coffee' with someone?

I named this blog/book correctly because I am now a pro at coffee shops.  Except I may not be at the RIGHT coffee shop. Minor detail.

Janet looked like the lady I was supposed to meet. I asked her if she was Judy. She said no and asked me if I was Kaitlyn. No again. I said if our people didn't show up we should just take their place. She thought it an excellent idea.

"What are you here for?" I asked her. She had a real estate meeting.

"You?"

I told her I had a counseling meeting. With someone I didn't know in a city I didn't know. Typical.

She introduced me to Mike next to her. We realized it was VERY easy to get to know people when you think you are supposed to meet them and that calling people by the wrong name is a great trick to making friends in a new city.

I didn't think the coffees would come in a new city, but apparently this is the way to go.

They liked the idea of meeting people this way so much, Janet said it could make a great commercial for their industry. She gave me her card and took my name (my REAL name) and said she would call me.

CELEBRATE

Today at the Arizona Science Center, I saw a giant map of Phoenix. This was helpful because everyone keeps telling me I am in the easiest city to navigate but I could still do well to have a map like that.

Curiously, a woman pointed out her house. As in, her exact house on the biggest map I've ever seen which as far as I could see didn't locate things like particular houses.

It made me realize that we all see differently, even if we are staring at the same thing.

I'm learning but right now am happy if I choose the correct location somewhere in a 5 mile radius on the map.

Side note: when I give directions, I typically use landmarks. Phoenix doesn't work quite like that.

Just turn left at the sea creature mural?

 

I am not sure what constitutes a coffee experience anymore. I probably need to have more interaction with some of these people I meet. But I am learning a lot from them.

Good news: I think I have been to every coffee shop within my five mile radius. So, there's that.

The city is growing on me and I am sure I am growing being in the middle of newness. I probably overuse that word so I will choose another word.

It is sweet being here, and it's been easy to celebrate. Life still feels a little limbo-y, but I'm realizing that's okay.

None of us have it all figured out along the way.

Change is so weird, but I think it is necessary. Since I didn't have a lot of words about this season and change, I am grateful Emily did.

Here's to change and even if it sounds backwards, finding little ways to celebrate it along the way.. aka I will accept any wall map you want to send my way as long as you can find your house on it. 

linking with kate

Imaginary coffee -- and a break for the magic hula hoop

I would love to tell you all that there have been lots of scribbles that just didn't make print in the blank space of time between the last post and this one, but sadly that is not the case. I've been writing more lately with notes on my phone (Is that even writing? There are words so I hope so.)

I take my notebook with me everywhere. I took it with me on a walk/ sit tonight when I went to one of our lakes but my pen didn't work. I thought about asking the fisherman for a pen because he was the only other person in sight but he looked so content so I didn't think he needed to be bothered.

There have been so many coffees, so many adventures lately, and for the moment, it's okay if there's not. It's okay for quiet and trees and water and ducks and no pens for writing and spending time seeing what's there. Because when I think nothing is happening or when I'm afraid I'll miss something, I'm yet again reminded moments are important in and of themselves. I don't always have to document all the things.

Why is this the thing I keep coming back to in my journey, even though I have dozens and dozens of stories to tell you?

I work in counseling, where the rule we live by is if you don't document it, it didn't happen. It's so true and yet so untrue.  These things we document, they did happen, of course, but no one else knows about them yet, I guess, and you can't prove them if you don't make notes. Document, document, document. That's what we learn along the way. Write it down.

Mix that with an already writer who likes to write things down anyway and this project should be easy-peasy. Just document all the fun, adventurous, out-of-the-ordinary, DAILY encounters, and your book will be written.

Why is it not that simple?

Because it's not about pounding out words just because.

I mean it is but it isn't.

Things don't have to be that complex, but when you're writing about people, I find they are sometimes. Interactions are organic, which is a beautiful thing, and life is sweet that way.

Maybe though, I am left wondering how to do all of them justice in this way.

I will try.

When I was starting this project, I skyped with Amy and she asked me about the process and the purpose of the story as a whole, and maybe this is part of it.

All we can do is try to put into words what we experience in life, knowing it's never quite the same the second or third or fourth time around.

Stories are important though. They can be a bridge from who we are to others and perhaps we all can remember the truth of our lives a little better that way.

Just like the pictures above that capture the moment from tonight, these words are the best I have to record what I've seen, who I've met.

~~~~~

My new neighbor has been a recent and surprising coffee! I surprised myself because normally I am open but I am more open with either strangers or people I know really well, not the in-between for some reason. The in-between, the daily-ness of knowing people can be hard, because you have to let them in.

I kind of realized right away my new neighbor would be one of those people. The moment I met her we had more than just a surface level conversation and I told her we ought to sit down and chat sometime. So she sat down right then and there on the stairs and said "why not now?"

Now is as good a time as any for coffee.

She named it, too.

We told her son that's what we were having when he came by, a teenager who was looking at two grown women on a stoop pretending to have coffee (I rarely ACTUALLY have coffee in these adventures).

It's an easy way to get to know someone, a shared love for fake, imaginary coffee.

That was last week. We've talked several times since then and we hope to walk sometime soon. She told me tonight it's so great having a neighbor who is a 'social worker' because apparently it is nice for talking and also entertaining, as I came home tonight with my magic hula hoop*. She liked that. Everyone needs a little fun in their lives. She said she's sure I'll be hula hooping it up on the grass before too long. Truth.

Neighbors are fun. They make wonderful coffee adventures.


*magic hula hoops are hula hoops that shake inside and where you can actually hula hoop for long periods of time. It's totally magic, but more on this later...

So many coffees: grocery store camp out

No, I didn't really camp out at the grocery store to meet people and have some new stories/coffees for you all.

What do you think, that I plan these things?

I can't help it that the grocery store is a magnet for humorous adventures. I just go there and seem to end up meeting strangers almost every time. I'm behind in documenting this so I may just lump a couple together from tonight.

There's Mike, the produce man who is always in a good mood. He performed a rap song for me about bacon (because I was buying bacon, of course), and told me tonight the secret to success is 'just give it time.' Not sure what that refers to exactly but that's not important. Most things he says are profound, even if they are short and to the point. He's not a stranger anymore, because every time he sees me he throws out a wise word or two.

Then there's Renee, who told me she has having a long day. We got into a conversation about when the store is busier and why, finding deals and seniors who shop on Thursdays because there is a discount. Since I shop at her store a lot, she encouraged me to find someone over 60 and ask them to shop with me on discount days. I told her I didn't know too many people over 60. "It doesn't matter," she said. "You can just find one off the street."

An experiment in its own right...

A few weeks ago was Shonita (98 percent sure on her name), a cashier from Target.  She had so much energy and enthusiasm. She actually pulled us --me and the most interesting coffee I've met yet -- over to look at some jewelry she got for her friends in Bible study. Lots more conversation happened, I think about Hamburger Helper, and we left realizing we had met someone very southern and very friendly, in the best possible way. I don't know why southern makes a difference anymore, since I've lived here eight years, but I think it's the southerners who have made this northern girl branch out the way she has. Carrying on conversations in line is totally normal, entertaining and can also be a learning experience here. Thank you, Shonita, for reminding me of that.

Group of Four People...and Occassionally Other People

I haven't written on here in awhile because I keep thinking I need something big to say, a monumental moment.

I've had a lot of "coffees" lately, lots of interesting meetings. I'll be sure to get back to the business of telling grocery store and museum stories soon, but I can't forget about the people that I see on the day-to-day who make life more eventful because of the regular 'coffees' I have with them.

For example, my neighbors who don't live beside me anymore. I still call them my neighbors but instead of the luxury of living a building next to them, I frequent their new place. They are friends. A kind of family here as mine is far away.

Tomorrow, Group Two of A Group of Four People (a silly nickname that stuck) is moving back to Ohio and she'll be farther away, but her next adventures are sure to be exciting.

In fact, Group Two (far left of the first picture) was one of a handful of people I first interviewed when I was getting this book rolling last year. I wasn't sure which way I wanted to go with it, but was a bit more direct and planned back then.

I sat in the kitchen with her and had her choose a drink of her choice (she choose tea). We sat down, I asked her questions and tried to be professional. She then reminded me we already knew each other.

We never know where the journey will take us. Thankfully, it usually involves laughter.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 group of 4..had to post one with group 4's awesome facial expressions.

 

 

real group of 4 picture

 

The power of a phone calendar (two guys on a train)

If you want to know the truth, I blame Paul and Matt for this blog.  And several other people who have helped along the way (I guess I should include you all who have known me for longer than a train ride...)

:::

I had just left the conference that was so profound that my cousin, who I would meet up with in just a few short minutes in the city, said caused me to be 'all kinds of sentimental.' I was riding a real live train for the first time since my European excursion in 2005 so I was taking a video (of course) for my roommates-turned-lifelong-frieds from that adventure when I was interrupted by the two guys behind me.

They asked where I was going because of my seat buddy. The fifty pounds of luggage taking up space in the aisle. I didn't mind conversation even though my brain was like silly putty after the weekend's learnings. They were approachable, insurance salesmen (for mega churches,  they said) and seemed to enjoy showing me the sights as we went into the city. Of course, that included the ins and outs of the train. Fun fact: you can drink on the metra train. This was told to me by Paul. Or was it Matt? Either way, they were having fun, so as the train rolled on, so did our conversation.


We got to talking about their work and the conference at Willow Creek. Somehow, the subject of writing came up. Of course, I was hyped up on inspiration and bravery, so words about my aspiring book called 87 Coffees (which I'd been trying to write for almost a year now with little progress) came flooding out.

"87 Coffees? What's that?" they asked.

I told them it was about unplanned meetings with new faces in the crowd, 87 to be exact. Or at least that was the point on the horizon. I told them I meet people all the time through interesting encounters or connections so why not write about it? It's usually funny. This comment not to be directed at the situation in front of me where it seemed like the only people drinking on the train and making a racket were the ones talking to me. The guy across the way from us would be snoring soon, he was so fast asleep.


"You guys have got to be characters in this book," I said. " Is that okay?"

"When's it coming out?" they asked (I'm pretty sure they also agreed somewhere in there).

I squirmed a bit. Oh look, time to go...

Paul pulled out his phone calendar and said he couldn't wait to check on this project. Everyone (except the man sleeping) started getting excited.

A year. From that day.  That's when he'd check on it. "A year's enough time to do this, right?

Was that a real question? I barely had anything written.

He put it in his phone. You know, like when you write down appointments and important matters?  You rarely look back until that day, so it felt permanent.

Matt did the same thing.

I'm not sure I answered their question.

I asked another question. What about the possibility it wasn't done, what if they didn't see anything after a year's time?

"We can just push the date back a year in our phones."

What?! That's it?

Space to breathe.

They quizzed me on their names again so I wouldn't forget (with all that time that might elapse, I didn't blame them).

Me forget them, though? They just told me they were going to make sure a stranger got her book written. Who knew all she needed was a little push, knowing there were people out there waiting for the story?

I believe them, too.

I need to practice believing in people everyday, and reminding myself of the light there.  Maybe that's what'll come out of this. A whole lot of light in what is often a dark world. We'll see.

Matt and Paul (and friends!)...I don't want to wait one or more years to write your stories. Here goes nothing.