So as if yesterday’s joy-fest wasn’t enough…I finally have a Google PageRank again!
Okay, it’s a 3/10, but darn it that’s better than no page rank at all. So I’m happy.
No tag for this post.Archive for January, 2007
Some days I’m overwhelmed. And other days I’m totally overwhelmed by how lucky I am. I have the absolute greatest family…some I’m related to, and some I’ve deemed family-worthy from the former designation of “friend”. 99.99% of my customers are terrific people, my business is doing remarkably well considering it’s winter and it’s a new business. My children are healthy, smart, and responsible citizens.
Today is a terrific day. One of many to come, I hope. I thank God for all of it.
No tag for this post.Gentrification, urban revitalization, economic development.
Use these terms in a conversation with my local street dealers, and you’re more apt to receive blank stares or angry responses like “That doesn’t apply to me.”
As you know, I own a small coffeehouse and cafe on Washington Boulevard in the Pigtown neighborhood. My neighborhood has changed in many ways since we moved in. The most glaring change is the hike in property values (and the corresponding property taxes) and the influx of new people from the suburbs who are moving here to get the “urban experience” — whatever the hell that means.
My concern, however, is not with my yuppie neighbors. My concern is with the kids who stand on the corner in all kinds of nasty weather (including today’s bizarre snow shower) selling drugs. In just a few short months, I’ve watched the corner across the street from my coffeehouse go from being “kinda sketchy” to a full-on open-air drug corner. I can tell you who’s dealing what, where their customers come from, and where they most likely are stashing the drugs. I watch them all day long, every day. I’m frightened, not of them…but for them. They honestly work harder than I do, most days, since I can at least sit down when I want, and I’m not standing outside in the cold. They pace back and forth…from Scott Street to Otterbein…back and forth…
One young guy in particular has caught my eye as someone who could possibly have half a chance of getting away and doing something with himself…if given an opportunity. And it doesn’t seem like he’s very good at being a drug dealer, because I rarely see him make any sales, as the customers seem to avoid him. But his clothes aren’t as nice as they used to be — he’s starting to look a little worn out…and he can’t be any older than 16 or so. I have a daughter older than this child, and what kind of mother am I if I let someone else’s baby stand out in the cold day after day?
We stare at each other, he and I. Every day. When the other guys aren’t around — they haven’t shown up for “work” yet — he stands in front of my coffeehouse and paces back and forth on my side of the street. I want so badly to fling open the door and ply him with cocoa, and tell him he doesn’t have to do this. He doesn’t have to stand on a corner and take orders from the guy I call “Patchy”…who is apparently the head honcho of this group. I want to tell him that if he wants to go back to school, get his GED, whatever — all it takes is one call, and I can help. I can at least give a darn.
But I’ve done nothing so far. I tell myself that I can’t get involved. It’s not safe.
But then there’s that nagging voice inside me that wonders what kind of mother would let someone else’s child walk the streets, day after day, in all kinds of weather.
No tag for this post.And I waver between feeling fine, and being so angry. And then sad once in a while, but mostly angry. As in, I want to stick forks in his eyes. And hers.
He came by the house the other evening, claiming that he’s sorry…wanting to fix everything…and promising that she’s gone — we’ll see. He also said something interesting — he never loved her, it was more about hurting me. Controlling me. He didn’t even like her.
I want none of it. He claims to want us back. We’ll see. In the meantime, I’m busy with the coffeehouse and making sure our son has as normal of a life as possible. We’ll see…
No tag for this post.I don’t like being single, and it’s only been three days. How do I act now? Will I forever be known as the woman he left? The woman who was tossed aside and scorned?
This should be one of the best times of my life — I have two beautiful smart wonderful children, I live in a great community — hell, I run my own business, for God’s sake. And here I am, staring at bags of his possessions…counting down until trash day. Sitting here wondering how to be a single person, a single parent, and how to grocery shop for one.
This isn’t how it was supposed to turn out. He promised me forever, and as far as I can tell, forever hasn’t come yet.
No tag for this post.…officially single.
But NOT looking.
It’s over, kaput, finito. And come next Sunday night’s trash night…there will be a lot of clothes at the curb. If you’re in the market for some slightly used mens’ clothes, stop by my house before trash pickup. Not tonight, next Sunday night.
No tag for this post.I love this website and I’m adding it to my blogroll. Excellent writing and a new way of looking at the world. Very refreshing.
No tag for this post.Aaaaaaack.
Go here and listen to the digitized wierd voice and watch the animated “narrator”. Once the spiel is over, move your mouse around in the box where the lady’s head is. Watch the eyes closely.
Aaaaaaaaaaaack.
No tag for this post.I just had a spam email for porn show up in my inbox.
From “Jesus Smith”.
Yet another Smith in my life. I lived 35+ years without ever knowing a Smith, and now Jesus is trying to sell me links to “hot gals”.
I’m such a lucky woman.
No tag for this post.So I’m thinking about ditching this blog. I’ll keep the domain, and still post from time to time, but I’ve discovered that it’s very difficult to maintain both blogs and work in the coffeehouse full time…and try to have some kind of a life outside work and writing. I’d rather devote more time to the coffeehouse blog, since it’s not only been a great way to advertise the coffeehouse — it’s been a great way for people to participate in the development of the menu, the design — all of it. I never realised how far-reaching the blog was, until people started coming in from other parts of the city and saying things like “Yeah, we read about your cupcakes on your blog” or “We saw your blog and decided to stop by”. That’s just so cool. I love that, and it’s part of what makes my job so terrific.
So this might be a goodbye for this blog, for a while. Don’t delete me from your blogroll — add the coffeehouse blog instead. 
