October 26th, 2011

Rainbow || Rainbow northern lights.

(no subject)

I am missing England dreadfully. It didn't hit me until I started looking up pubs/evening places to go, couldn't find any, asked my father (who would know what I wanted upon asking after a 'pub-like-place') to no avail ("haven't found any in the area") and came back to my room. Then I just crumbled.

I miss English pubs--there were so many kinds, so many places I could just walk to in the evening! Just walk up to the bar, order myself a drink and then bugger off once I had it; they didn't care where I sat or how long I stayed, provided I left at closing without issue. There were real places to sit that weren't bar-stools and I could read/write notes without being too bothered, while still enjoying the atmosphere. And once I'd been around enough, servers got to know me by look and name (it does help, a touch, that my look is rather unique and my name is hard to forget).

The main place I went wasn't even called a pub, it was "Global Cafe and Bar", but it had the same feel. It was wonderful.

And now I'm here. When I research "pub" here it hardly means anything more than restaurant-with-a-bar, where one goes in and sits at a barstool all night with drinks or sits down, orders food and drink, consumes them and then is expected to leave. Where one socialises with those one has arrived with--and where if one comes alone, it is strange. But bars don't work either, for the ones I've seen are not 'atmospheric' in the way I'd like and don't seem set to seat comfortably. "Tavern" seemed like just another restaurant.

When I ask my friends, "Want to go check out a pub with me?" I get very non-committal answers, with a feeling of 'why do that?' I guess I shouldn't expect anything else; I haven't before now, not in America, but then I haven't been in America in October--the end of October!--in three years. I've been in a place where I'll have a housemate yelling up the stairs for me, "Kiwi, coming to the pub?!" or a text from a friend, "Headed to the pub--come meet me!" or someone entering my room only to drag me out of it--homework and all--to head straight to the pub.

But I guess this is living in Suburban America. I'm not in Reading any more--not in an offshoot of London. I'd just forgotten.

I haven't got a local pub. My friends--the few I even have around here--don't go to pubs. Don't go anywhere in the evenings save out to eat, to each other's houses or clubbing.

I guess I'll just stay in my room, turn the faerie lights on and note-take on my reading in here. I'll imagine the friendly chatter and the laughter and the pub music.

*Bites lip.* I miss England. I'm lonely, and I can't find anywhere to go be alone amongst strangers--which always helped that.
  • Current Mood
    lonely Lonely.
Ani D || Grinning.

(no subject)

I didn't manage to find a pub, but I stumbled upon a setting that I don't mind over-much. Let me set the scene and see what you think.

It has grown dark, the day, and slipped into its evening cloak of speckled stars and amorphous clouds gliding to kiss the moon. Somehow the common path is scattered with coloured leaves, yet the trees must have trod off a ways, for only the tips may be spotted over the houses and shops. Hogsmeade and its mysteries.

A sign above sways in the autumnal wind--creaaaaak, clack, squeeeeeak--and the same wind catches at the cloaks and pelts of those beneath, convincing them to settle somewhere inside or gain another layer. The wind lets up for a moment and the sign stills enough to gaze upon with ease:

Kiwi Keep - Pub of Pleasantries, it reads, though it appears there is a plurality that has been consumed by time and the seasons; the hint of an apostrophe and the tail of an 's' are just visible. The coat of arms contains a frisky unicorn cantering through the oaks of an old wood, light throwing a glory spectre of the beast into the rainbow-tinted clouds above the forest. Did the unicorn just wink...?

The wind strikes up again as a reminder that the wisest decision is to make one. The faerie lights--or dancing light-faeries, as they seem to be--are inviting enough, at least, to merit a momentary visit.

Inside, there is a warm current of air to ease the muscles of a visitor's face, encouraging expressions of mirth or madness, whichever comes first (and whichever the definition of 'mad', one might gather from the surroundings). Candles stuck in bottles float over the tables and bar; streams of smoke are reflected by mirrors dotting the walls between paintings--incense, judging by the scent. Music dances from a box in the far corner, with occasional music notes popping like bubbles throughout the room. One pops a B-flat against a pile of books; a book in a pile on an adjacent table chuckles, releasing a tiny cough of dust.

The server behind the bar is short and sturdy, with curling brown locks half-tied at ear level and a face created for laughter. She keeps a book in one hand and a quill in the other, angled over a parchment; she drops it to draw a wand from her bosom and tap a patron's glass, which floats to refill itself at one of the taps.

She glances up to her newest visitor and smiles. "Welcome to Kiwi's Keep! Would you like a drink, some company or a whinge?"

Decisions, decisions.

(Heh heh, I just did that for fun. Anyway! I don't mean to steal lash_larue's thunder; I checked her chat [always here] and didn't find anyone there.

I'm not sure how long I'll be on, but probably a fair while with cleaning, reading, note-taking, fic-reading and tv-watching to do. (: I've got the candles out, the faerie lights flashing, the incense burning and the music playing; I'm feeling a bit better with all of that. I just needed the reminder that I keep myself in good company and that I'm one of my own best friends.

That said, I'd love to hang out with myself and those from my flist who'd enjoy it, too! After all, wherever I go, there I am... (; )

(...P.S: I don't know if I really have a face created for laughter, but one must have some leniency for creative endeavours, hmm?)
  • Current Music
    I've Loved You Before - Melissa Etheridge