Tuesday, March 30, 2010

what do I dream of now, besides my journalistic/photographic career?

Well, I just told you that I aspired (not too seriously) to be a flight attendant as a six-year-old. So now I'm 15. What do I envision, what do I dream of for the future now, now that it has nearly been a decade since?

If it isn't obvious, I dream constantly about my future career, which, right now, seems to be becoming a journalist/photographer. Yeah, all of those things, and probably a lot more, too. But those are my main focuses. Day in and day out, I dream. But you know what else I dream of?

Of owning a house on top of a hill full of lupines, next to the sea.

I dream, that when I'm a journalist and photographer, I'll come home (wherever that may be, hopefully in New York City) every Friday night from traveling or a long day of 'work,' and head out to my favorite bar or lounge and order a glass of wine (which one, I wouldn't know. I think I'll have to ask an expert like my EIC on that). I would hate beers. I'd love wine. I'd sit on the same bar stool every week, same place, same times, curling my fingertips around the glass of wine that I always have. From that view, I would see the saxophonist, the bassist, the pianist. The lights would be dim, the music would be beautiful, the atmosphere absolutely heavenly. And I wouldn't go home until after the bar/lounge closed. I would request the jazz trio/group to play my favorite bar jazz song for me: After Hours by The Three Sounds. Actually, I wouldn't request. The jazz group would always know that would be what I wanted to hear before heading home to my apartment at 3 a.m., since I'd be a regular at that bar/lounge. And note that I said bar or lounge, and not "club." I don't think I'd spend my Friday nights clubbing. And my ideal bar/lounge? The type that's classy, not trashy.

And then, on the weekends, if I had time off, I'd head out to my favorite cafe for lunch, alone probably. I'd be a regular at that cafe, too. They would always play bossa nova softly in the background, and the smell of coffee would be in the air. I dislike the taste of coffee, but I like the smell. This particular cafe would be relatively empty, though it would be the best cafe in the city (a rare find), and it would be furnished like a modern room you'd see in IKEA. The lightning would be just perfect, and the walls would be sparse--perhaps a few photographs framed here and there, but nothing else. There'd be a few potted plants here and there. There would be a single, tall bookcase near the entrance. I'd be eating my usual pasta or a watercress sandwich for lunch, pouring myself a cup of rose tea (and if not--juice. Or maybe an expensive bottle of water), with a newspaper in hand--most likely The New York Times, or a magazine. What magazine, I don't know. We'll see--maybe a fashion magazine like Vogue, or maybe a worldly magazine like National Geographic. It depends on which one I'd end up at. (chuckle) I'm full of myself. Or if I weren't lunching and reading, I'd be using my Macbook Pro, which I clutch under my arm everywhere as I maneuver the streets of New York City.

Then, on evenings when I can spare time (especially on weekend nights), I'd be in a fancy or cozy restaurant, dining with someone--perhaps a close friend, a coworker I'd be on agreeable terms with, whatever. And that restaurant would, surprise, play jazz, too. It'd have dim lights, a subdued atmosphere.

I really have a thing for

1) Jazz/bossa nova
2) Wine, not beer
3) Cafes, bars and lounges

Those are situations I'd see myself in, hahaha.

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