Classy Coffee Chicka

Even though we are in the end of April, the weather has not been cooperating very nicely. We have had more chilly, cloudy days than warm, sunny days. That, mixed in with the stress of school, has been leaving me a little caffeine-deprived. Around 3 o'clock, I am really jonesin' for a cup of joe, and not the slop that is in the teacher's lounge, I am talking about some good, quality coffee . . . like Dunkin Donuts! (Come on, you know that was coming.)

Yesterday, one of the teachers I work with bought coffee for us. Scrumptious Dunn Brother's coffee! It was awesome. I swear, when he brought in that glorious coffee carrier, I was looking at that delicious mocha like it was the holy grail. I downed it so fast that I got a little light headed. I realized that this new desire of afternoon coffee, has possibly given me the golden ticket to adulthood.

Growing up, when I saw grown ups drinking coffee in the morning, it was very normal. My mom has had a cup of coffee every morning for as long as I can remember. (My dad was more of a tea guy, just in case you were curious.) But, there was something classy about the grown ups drinking coffee in the afternoon. Whenever we went to my grandma's house, she always offered to make coffee for herself and my mom. They would sit in the kitchen or front room, sip their coffee and talk about grown up stuff. I thought it looked glorious. Even now, I feel awesome when I get my little Starbucks to tootle around Target.

Unfortunately, our school does not have a fantastic barista in the teacher's lounge, so for now, I have to settle with hand outs or waiting until I get home to brew up a batch myself. That is unless . . . you'd like to have a coffee date with me . . .

Dear Dunkin Donuts

Dear Dunkin Donuts,

As I sit on my couch this morning, I am savoring a cup of freshly brewed Dunkin Donuts coffee that my handsome husband so kindly purchased for me at CostCo. I am also being bombarded by the seemingly ubiquitous commercials that claim your franchises are close to my habitat. Alas, when I did a store search, I could not find a beloved DD within 50 miles. After I wept bitterly, I pulled myself together and did a little more soul searching. I found that there are plans of expanding your vast empire into the land of snow and cold that was perhaps overlooked due to its close proximity to Canada. 'Tis true, Minnesota is in fact part of the Midwest and we demand to be added to your 2,600 stores especially since you have infiltrated 30 countries. (Sigh . . . those lucky lands . . . )

Is it a crime that there are so many patrons who want to give you their money for a cup of your delicious, French Vanilla coffee with extra cream and two Splenda (that is a completely hypothetical coffee order)? Is it wrong that there are folks who have tasted the nectar of the gods and only desire to drink deeply from their coffee pots? I say nay!

So tease us no more with you coffee commericals! Give us a Dunkin Donuts store . . . . preferably on my way to work. America runs on Dunkin and I am an American!

Sincerely,
Pambo Jones

5-Hour Energy

Today was my first day back to work after the Christmas break. This morning, I was surprised at how alert I was considering the cats kept me up all night. I think that one of them was on duty at all times to make sure that Troy and I wouldn't dash off on another vacation. I also think that they needed to make sure that it was actually Troy and I sleeping in our bed and not a couple of posers. I think these things to be true because they both walked over me all night or took up all the valuable foot room. Anywho, I was feeling pretty good for most of the day, until about noon when I hit a wall. I think I could have slept standing up. (I may or may not have mastered the art of sleeping sitting up straight during our many car rides over the holiday. The only hint I give you when I am sleeping is the fact that my mouth is gaping open, catching flies. Since many people comfortable sit/stand with their mouth completely wide open, I am sure it would be hard for you to tell that I am in fact sleeping.)

This lack of energy really had me jonesing for a Dunkin Donuts coffee, unfortunately, there are not any in Minnesota, nor would I have been able to leave my students long enough to get one. (Sigh) Lately I have seen commercials for the 5-Hour Energy Drink. I am very curious to know how it works. To be honest, it kind of freaks me out. It is a small bottle, like one of those small bottles of adult spirits you can purchase for an exorbitant amount of money in a mini bar. How can the the contents in that small bottle give you enough energy for five hours . . . legally? Troy and I were commenting on how we are too nervous to try it. I am fairly certain that if I were to consume that teeny beverage, my heart would explode. This fear hinders me from a taste test.

I googled (don't you just love how that is a verb now?) the ingredients of this drink and found a website that informed me that 5-Hour Energy is mostly charged with vitamins and of course caffeine, it did however, come with a list of side effects. One being a rash from too much vitamin B3, possible paralysis from an overdose of B6, not to mention the possibilities of vomiting, disorientation, nausea, panic attacks, involuntarily shaking and an irregular heart beat from the amount of caffeine in the product. And if that isn't enough to worry you, they also have 5-Hour Energy Extra for extra yaking purpose.

While those side effects sound like a smashing, good time, I think I will pass. Alas, I am not a risk takers when it comes to 5-Hour Energy. I would rather sip on a large, Dunkin Donuts, French Vanilla coffee with extra cream and two Splenda to get my energy. The way God intended it.

Blubber

The winter holidays are officially over. My parents started putting some of the Christmas decorations away, the New Years Eve party plates were cleaned up and the Carlson Duo (Troy and me) are getting ready to return to the Twin Cities after a nice long vacation with family. That basically translates into me being a hot mess while driving away from my parents' house. I knew it was coming, I mean the holidays can't last forever, but every time I leave their house, I am a blubbering fool.

This entire trip has been a fly-by-the-seat-of-our-pants kind of trip as far as planning goes, which is actually kind of unusual for us. So, when my mom asked me this morning what our plans were for today, it was a valid question. It was also the kind of question that makes me aggressively clear my throat multiple times as I try to contain the tears that are threatening to spill over because the answer to her question is that we are leaving soon. My family knows how I operate. All at once I started hearing words of encouragement - with the exception of Laura's boyfriend whom I probably made very uncomfortable but probably was not surprised due to the similarities that Laura and I share in the emotional department.

"Eric and I will come up and visit sometime in February!! That is right around the corner!" Laura said.
"Dad, Beck and I are going to plan a trip up next time Rebecca has a long weekend off from school! Won't that be fun?!" My mom offered.
"If we have snow, you can come back for Presidents' Day and go snowmobiling!" My dad suggested.

Though these are great offers, they didn't stop the tears and I quickly hugged my family and left before my blubbering got out of control. Then I cried all the way to the Carlson's house where we were spending the day before trekking back up north. Thankfully, I have an understanding husband who lets me cry and pats my leg as I try to inconspicuously try to dab at my eyes, collecting the rogue tears who escaped.

I have heard the phrase that families are like fish, after a few days they start to stink. Sometimes that is true. Sometimes going home can be hard for me because after all, I am a grown up now and I do things my own way at home and have to have my whole motherboard reprogrammed when I go back home. But then things start to fall into place and new patterns start - thus cue me crying about not being able to drink my Dunkin Donuts coffee with my mom and Laura in the mornings.

I guess the moral of the story is that no matter how old you get, sometimes all you want is your mom and dad. In the spirit of trying not to dwell on what is over, I am going to take this opportunity to comment on some personal highlights of our Christmas vacation:

1. Troy's parents gave us the whole Willow Tree nativity set which I am thinking about setting up for the month of January just because I love it so much.

2. Laura and I started saying, "Yak!" every time we thought something was disgusting. The correct way to perform this is to lean over and pretend to yak while you say "yak." It's funny.

3. Mama K and Fussy Pops gave me a sewing machine for Christmas. I am already envisioning my new fall line.

4. I laughed so hard at Troy while we were at the cabin that I keeled over in the hallway. Complete loss of motor functions.

5. Wings Etc.

6. Hitting up Kalamazoo. Yes, there really is a Kalamazoo. Every time I am there, I think of Tim Allen, one of many reasons why I love that town.

7. Playing Speed Scrabble with Mom and Dad and adding new words to my lexicon that my dad made up.

8. Golf cart rides around the lake.

9. Melissa Mladinic.

10. Enjoying the use of a shower that is no farther than four feet from our room. This one is huge, we are already spoiled to this luxury.

Birds, Births and Christmas

Here we are. Christmas Day. All of the presents have been opened, and now we are just waiting to devour that stuffed bird, baking in the oven. Its smell is wafting through the house, tempting us. I wish I could say I was one of those people who could "smile because it happened" instead of "cry bcause it's over" but I'm not. In my opinion, the best part of Christmas is the anticipation of the day. I love celebrating the weeks of advent at church, playing only Christmas music in my car since the day after Thanksgiving, buying and wrapping gifts, and making our cats Molly and Olivia wear the Mrs. Claus cap and skirt that my sister Laura bought for them. I am slowing embracing the fact that now it is only a matter of days (maybe weeks if I can milk it long enough) before all the decorations get put away and we have to endure the long weeks of winter, sans Christmas cheer. That being said, I have spent the morning trying to distract myself from feeling blue with the realization that Christmas has only a few precious hours left by thinking random thoughts.

1st Random Thought: I wonder how long our Christmas tree stood erect after we left for Chicago. I am betting the cats took it down within at least a day. Thankfully, I took off the breakable ornaments before we left, predicting the inevitable outcome of our little tree.

2nd Random Thought: Why is Dradle, Dradle, Dradle stuck in my head? I'm not even Jewish. Although every time I hear that song I think of Adam Sandler and his Hanukkah song. And since it is the Festival of Lights, and I love those, maybe I should get myself a menorah.

3rd Random Thought: I wonder if Dunkin Donuts has ornaments. I would definately put that on my tree. Laura and I will have to check that out later when we go get a cup of joe.

4th Random Thought: My parents have a scale in the upstairs bathroom that us girls shared growing up. I almost got on it this morning out of curiosity, and then my common sense stepped in and told me not to. Though the numbers that would have appeared would have probably ruined my day, I keep thinking about what they would be. And then I think, what does it matter, muscle weighs more than fat and I am totally ripped, so the number would be skewed anyway.

5th Random Thought: So, Christ was born today. Well, about two thousand years ago. Thus our reason for celebrating. Every year I think about how brutal that must have been. I mean, Mary all huge and prego, is being drug down to Bethelhem on a Donkey and then gave birth surrounded by stinky animals who use the same space to sleep and relieve themselves. Gross. No epidurals there either. Ouch. I am kinda grateful that I wasn't the one picked for that job. Between my threshold for pain and my need to be clean, I would be freaking out. Although my outbursts might have made the gospels for entertaining.

Well, that's all I have so far, but the day is still young.

I hope you have a very Merry Christmas.

For Here or To Go?

Two things you need to know about me before I begin this blog. Number one, I need coffee to function in the morning. Number two, I hate waking up early. Naturally, because of these two issues I have been happily bringing my coffee to work with me in one of the stainless steel travel mugs that looks really stealth and quite possibly like I swiped it from Batman. However, I also have a fabulous collection of Starbucks mugs. (Not that I am prejudiced to any other coffee establishment, but I like how Starbucks mugs are super giant and can really hold like three cups of coffee in one mug.) Every morning I would eat my breakfast of champs--a bowl of Honey-nut Cheerios--and then fix my coffee to my liking--sugar free french vanilla creamer with two Splendas--and head off to work, but I felt like I could hear my mugs calling me from their organized place in the cabinet. These mugs were generally reserved for Saturday mornings when I had the time to lounge around and sip my Dunkin Donuts coffee that came from the extra-large bag my husband stocks up on for me at CostCo. Still, it felt like a shame to use these fun mugs only once a week.

One weekend my sister, Laura came to visit. She decided to leave Monday morning instead of Sunday night and so we had coffee in the morning before I had to leave for work. It was so fun! I loved just chillaxing (Chilling + Relaxing = Chillaxing) before hitting the grind. So, I started getting up just a little bit earlier and forced myself to sit down and enjoy my delicious coffee in my super fun and giant Starbucks mugs. I have to say, it is the best part of my day. This morning I was so enjoying my coffee moment, that I thought I would take a picture of the cup of coffee that was so delicious and helped me get my buns perpendicular for the day. I should add that is one of the few mugs that is not from Starbucks. This was a birthday present to me from Anthropologie, which by the way, has super cute mugs too.

While we are on the topic of coffee, I would like to give a shout-out to all my straight up coffee drinkers who prefer it black. You are my heroes and although I may not have told you this, there is a part of me that thinks it's super cool that you go raw-hide like that. Now, I add cream and sugar (or sugar-substitute, I should say) to my coffee. I was actually told once that I was not a true coffee lover because of this apparently blasphemous act. But I say, "nay!" If you cut me, do I not bleed? If there is moisture in the air, will my hair not frizz? If I add cream and sugar to my coffee, do I not enjoy my cup of joe? Anywho, maybe I will take this time to warn the coffee snobs out there. The next time someone tells me I am not a true coffee lover, be warned, I will kick you in the shins. Then I will run away to a safe location where you can't find me to retaliate and there I will laugh at my act of revenge. Consider you all warned.