The first time that I heard the phrase 'feng shui', it struck me as something that had no relevence at all to my life. Really, I don't gather energy from the 'stuff' in my life,
no matter how it's arranged.
Then I had the following discussion with Cara. This is the same kid who can't stand the new Walmart, because the floors 'are wrong'.
But I digress. Okay, this kid has a major coffee fixation. I don't know where the girl gets this from. It is obviously some sort of genetic anomaly.
(Excuse me a moment: *sllllluuuuuurp* !aaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh! 'nothing finer
than the first cup in the morning' ~sighs...~ waggles toes...)
Okay, I'm back. Now we have a coffee shop in town. It has couches and a fireplace, and
it is quiet and comfortable, and sometimes, when Cara and I are looking for some
special bonding time, we go there.
(I'm willing to suck down a very good cup of coffee in the interest of bonding time
with my lovely daughter...I'm just that kind of mom.)
Cara also goes to this place to meet and hang with her friends, a group of five or six fellow band nerds. So this place is kind of a comfortable hangout for all of us.
It was with great interest, Cara and all her caffeine addicted friends watched the building of a second franchise, right next to the Walmart with the awful floors.
And the whole herd was there for the grand opening.
She came home outraged. The sun came directly through the west facing windows, bouncing off the modernistic ultra-shiny table tops, which made it 'hurt to talk'. Additionally, the accoustics were all wrong, causing conversation to echo, making it feel like everything that you said could be heard by every person there. The chairs were not comfortable, and the bathroom and the original coffee house was so quaint, and this one had (gasp of horror!)
a metal, industrial type trash can.
"Um," I said, "But how was the coffee?"
"Oh, the coffee's fine, just as good as the original place."
I looked at her, really trying to 'get it'.
She was starting to get a little agitated because I wasn't.
(It's always my fault, of course, when I don't 'get it'. )
She snapped, "Remember, mom, how the old place whispered 'commmmmme, staaaaaaaaay, savor your coffeeeeeeeeee'? "
(No. Actually, the place never whispered to me at all.)
Cara continued: "Well, this one shrieks, 'drink your coffee and get the hell out'."
I guess that there's what you call your 'feng shui', right there.
Wanna hear the scary part? I'm the one with the impractical mind that everyone refers to as 'artistic'. Music can make me cry. I sometimes 'climb into' paintings. I daydream over old stuff. I'm the one with the cluttered thought processes, the one who can slip off into some mental tangent, stopping dead to ponder some thought I've never thunk before, regardless of where I am. I once was pondering some great point in a public restroom, and was washing my hands when I noticed the urinals on the wall. (And the man staring at me holding his umbrella in a confused, defensive sort of way....) I exasperate the practical folk in our family.
So, yeah. Really. I don't know what's wrong with Cara. I don't 'get' her at all.