IMG_2857.JPG

Hi, I'm Liz.

I write stuff, and I can help you write stuff. 

Learn more about the editorial services I offer.

People-watching

  Photo courtesy of  Pixabay

Photo courtesy of Pixabay

I'm sitting at a Starbucks facing the window, watching people outside pass by. I had a dentist appointment this morning and half my face is numb. I keep drooling and chewing on my lip. Drinking coffee is... challenging. But I want this coffee.

I'm watching.

They keep passing by the window with flowers; yellow flowers that look like sad, droopy trumpets. Who is handing out these flowers? 

Some people really don't know how to put an outfit together.

Strained necks with searching eyes staring at screens while they walk. Sometimes they trip. Sometimes they are smiling because someone texted them. Sometimes they seem disappointed because maybe no one texted. Someone else was delivered some really shitty news and I thought they were going to chuck their phone into traffic.

It must be cold to have a bald head.

That guy's jacket probably cost more than the most expensive thing I own. Wait, what is the most expensive thing I own?

Is it 2018? Sometimes I can't tell because some people have so much style.

The most expensive thing I own must be my house.

Why are pants always so tight these days?

I really hate the song that is playing right now. It's terrible. The singer is tone deaf and yet, they have a song playing in Starbucks. 

Last week someone told me I am a natural beauty. I've never heard that before. I definitely have never felt that before. What does it mean to be a natural beauty?

So many broken bones and crutches.

I have another dentist appointment in an hour. I wonder if there is going to be spinach stuck in my teeth from the wrap I ate that took me a million years to eat because I can't feel my tongue.

Purses with logos all over them are ugly.

I wonder why that guy is limping. I wonder where she's going in such a hurry. I wonder if they're happy. Do they have people who love them?

I'm always impressed with men who have long hair. It's such a process to grow it out. It requires patience, or utter laziness.

I wonder if other people ever feel like they don't fit inside their body. 

French braids! I need to see if my hair is long enough to french braid.

Was she looking at me through the window or was she just looking at her reflection?

Some pants are tight but they also fit very well. I wonder if my butt looks that good in jeans. I probably need to do some squats.

The inside of my bottom lip feels silky, and it's tingling. I'm starting to get some feeling back.

Red hair is beautiful.

What do you do when your butt itches and there are a bunch of people around? Are you really as discreet as you think you are when you're shimmying in your seat? Or do you just get in there and satisfy the itch with a really intense scratching?

The bus driver just got off the bus and walked away from it. He's over it.

The flowers keep coming. Someone said it's because it's the first day of spring. Is it?

The guy sitting next to me has a curly, healthy beard. And he has a bag from Lush sitting next to his coffee. I wonder if he bought something for himself or someone else. I wonder what it smells like--whatever is in the Lush bag I mean, not his beard.

I can't tell how cold it is outside. The sun is out and some people are bundled for a blizzard, while others are in shorts and t-shirts.

Janelle Monáe is a great artist. 

It's taking me so long to drink this coffee. Ooh, that guy had a great ice cream cone tattoo on the side of his neck. Shit, I dribbled coffee down my chin. Still numb.

He's typing with his two index fingers. That must take him forever to say anything.

Glasses inside of sunglasses.

What is the allure of butts? I mean, they are just added cushion for pooping, right? Why do people find them attractive?

His coffee date is also using only two fingers to type, but he's chosen his middle fingers to say things. I wonder if he is typing swear words. Seems appropriate to use your bird fingers to single type swear words. Shit. There, I typed shit with just my middle fingers. Wasn't too difficult.

She's digging in her backpack for something and watching people watch her with suspicious eyes. 

Now it's Alicia Keys. She's such a beautiful woman. This girl is on fire...

Hey! I work with that guy!

You know how some kids just look like small adults? The reverse is true. Some adults still look like kids. It would probably be weird to make out with these adults that still look like kids. I just gave myself a body shiver. Blech.

Some people seem to be enjoying a leisurely stroll. It's after 1:00. I wonder what they do for work. Maybe they are in between dentist appointments like me and instead of sitting in a coffee shop (that basically feels like being at the office for me), they are wandering the streets in the sun. I must be a vampire. When the sun is out, I want to be inside.

Did I forget to put on deodorant today? It'd probably be too weird to sniff my armpit right now to check.

It feels like there are fingers crawling my insides, outlining my organs, in my abdomen. Maybe I'm still hungry.

I like to make eye contact with people and see if they look away first. I win a lot.

Purple hair. Green hair. Blue hair. Gray hair. No hair.

Converse. Nike. What are those shoes? Dr. Martens. Fluevog!

Man buns. I just... I can't.

I want to put my fingers into those dimples. They're so deep!

He printed directions! Remember back in the day before our phones could tell us where to go and you'd have to MapQuest directions and print them?! He printed them! I want to give him a hug.

When your top matches your bottoms, it will always be pajamas to me.

Swink Style Bar. Loft 63. Young Flowers. Spex Eyecare. Lloyd Building. Something fishy... coming soon.

My right eyebrow is really itchy now that my face is losing its numb. I like slapping my face when it's numb. I like getting numb. The dentist is my favorite doctor to visit. I should probably pack up and walk there now.

Ooh, it smells like cheese right now. Mmm. Cheeeeeeeese.

When Dreams Die