little sarah Big World

Tag: coffee shops

Quality Time is Running Out


Sister Sleepover, Round 2

@ Café on 1st

I realized recently how little time I have left–less than 5 weeks as I write this. The cold, the inversion, and the exciting/comforting/strange feeling of being newly married to my favorite person in the world had caused an intense bout of nesting.

Which is fine, except that in less than 5 weeks I’ll be able to see Chad every day, while I have to make due with letters, emails, phone calls and skype for all my other “other halves.” My dear, sweet friends and family. They are a rad bunch, and I am committed to hanging out with them in earnest, while there’s still time.

(photo credit: Miss Rose)

Last weekend I had a sister sleepover with Rosie, drinking and dancing with Griggs and the Stephanies, and a chakra workshop (it’s true, it’s all true) with Nicole.

inspiration credit: Rosie

While busy social whirlwind weekends like that used to overwhelm me, now it seems like it’s not enough. I’ve even made a To-Friendship list, just to ensure that I get to spend individual quality time with my greatest loves.

Because list-making–like running, or baking, or Dance Party of One–is a coping mechanism. And I am coping with the fact that I will miss my friends more than I could ever possible put into words, let alone a bulleted checklist.

But it’s a start.


…should always look like this.

And I am working on making that happen.

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Sunday, August 19th, 2012

(café on 1st)

Sitting here, puzzle nearly finished, everything bagel with hummus, soy hot chocolate. A new journal, an old dress. This is me, I need to remind myself. This is me, without friends, without family or lovers. I exist. I have likes and dislikes. I have quiet, pleasing moments.

I go on.


Mornings when I open at the coffee shop start early, 6:15am, though I often get there closer to 6:30. I have the opening duties distilled down to a single fluid sweep. Then I unlock the doors, serve the regulars. Wipe coffee grounds and pastry flakes from too many surfaces, weigh out the day’s beans.

And then I make myself a beverage and do the crossword puzzle. A little mid-morning break.

My dad’s a crossword savant, breezing through the Sunday Time’s puzzles (even the diagram-less!), while I’m proud to have finished a Tuesday in the Salt Lake Tribune.

Still, you’ve got to start somewhere. Keep yourself occupied.

I’m Gonna Live Forever



“I’ve been immortalized on the Wall of Fame, Brandi!”

There’s this guy that comes into my coffee shop from time to time and draws pictures of the girls at the counter. He’s been doing this a long time–portraits line the wall in the back room and date back to before I worked there. He comes in, asks you to try and hold still (which you can’t, because you’re, you know, working), draws an overly or underly flattering picture (Diana’s has weird, krinkly hair, while Ellie was depicted nude in a vat of coffee beans), then presents it to you and asks what you’re able to tip that day.

Or so I’d heard. Because he always comes in the afternoons, and I leave by 12. I’d never even seen the guy.

Not gonna lie, friends–I really wanted to be on that wall.

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Going Home

Saturday Morning, After the Sleepover

“Sarah, why is your kitchen in your bedroom?”

“Why do you drink out of jars?”

“Why don’t you have a car?”

My 20-something life is all but unfathomable to my little sister. And she’s not the only one. Even I have to question my methods from time to time. Like at the wedding last weekend, with the other bridesmaids in graduate school, or working professionally, making big career strides and living in big cities.

I realized, apart from graduating college, I have almost no claim to adulthood–I don’t own a home, or a car. I’m not married, I don’t have children. I have nothing but the vaguest notions about grad school. I don’t have a full-time job, or health insurance.

I am a bike-riding, studio-living, self-indulgent young woman. And most days I am okay with that. But sometimes I see myself through another’s eyes, and I have to wonder…

…then Rosie tells me that her favorite thing is sleeping over and walking to the coffee shop on the corner in the morning. I like to think that she’ll always remember that, the way I still remember a sleepover with Aunt Angie when I was little–like I was being allowed a peek into adult life.

I mean, somebody has to be the “single” Auntie or sister, the one with time and space for sleepovers. The one who will take you for hot chocolate and bagels. The one who is, like Sandra Cisneros, “nobody’s mother and nobody’s wife.”

*       *       *

I am okay with being that person. Most of the time.