March 23rd, 2002

default, pepper

Notes from the field

It's quarter past two and I'm sitting in a courtyard that seems kind of French Quarter: wrought-iron furniture and railings, brick patio, tree in the center of the courtyard. It's sunk a bit below street level, and the tree provides enough shade to keep the seats cool and the screen free of glare. The courtyard is adjacent to (and for) a coffee shop.

I could live here.

Or at least near here--which wouldn't be impossible, since there are apartments right above the coffee shop and on the second floor over most shops here in Celebration, the town at Walt Disney World. In the five or six years it's been open for business, Celebration's been moving from theme park extension to real town.

Now, I've always wandered about the Greener Grass Quotient in places like this, West Park Village (a smaller Tampa equivalent), or even real older neighborhoods: would familiarity breed boredom? If I could walk to a pleasant outdoor coffee shop and camp out with Peroxide there, would it lose its charm?

Part of me's suspicious--but I should really try living in a place like that to see.

I set out today with the assertion that I needed to get writing done. Absolutely true. I don't know how much I'm going to get done here other than this journal. I'm tempted to head out to a Disney park while I'm here. I have an annual pass that expires in about a month that hasn't been getting nearly enough use.

But--writing first.

Or second. Getting coffee first.

Collapse )