Could We Make a Deal?

Whew. Sorry about yesterday's post. I needed that. Sometimes, I just need to purge all those fears and insecurities that I know I'm having because I'm convinced that I'm the only woman/mother on the planet who has them. Then, I hear from all of you, my wonderful blog friends and family, the people who keep me connected to the world outside my four walls and who let me know there's more to life than grilled cheese sandwiches and dirty diapers and that I'm not the only woman/mother thinking these thoughts and having these doubts and worries. And I thank you for that and for your love and support. You give me much strength.

OK, getting too sappy around here. How about a snicker or two?

My in-laws (parents and brother) are all building wine cellars in their homes. I think it's awesome but it's not for me or the Ty-man. We just aren't wine drinkers. I wish we were. It seems so grown-up to be a wine drinker. I envy all those people who sit in Italian restaurants and order the house red to complement their dinner and then actually savor the taste! What a concept. My wine drinking likes include... well, none. I just don't like the flavor. Now, margaritas? That's a different story altogether.

I am, at least, a coffee drinker. Coffee I like. Coffee I savor. I buy the coffee in whole bean form, keep the bag in the fridge, grind the beans just before brewing, and take a big whiff of the so-thick-you-can-stand-your-spoon-up brew just before sipping. Ah. That's the life.

To keep coffee fresh, it should be kept in a cool place. I keep mine in the fridge but I'm wondering about a coffee humidor. Ever been to a cigar store? They typically have big walk-in humidor, set to the perfect temperature and humidity, to keep the cigars fresh. So, I think I need a walk-in fridge, in my basement, with large wooden bins of coffee beans, ready to be scooped, ground, and brewed to my satisfaction. And where will I get such large quantities of coffee beans? (Not to worry NATUI, you're off the hook.)

Columbian cocaine smugglers.

Seriously.

Don't those guys use coffee beans to throw off the drug-sniffing dog's scent so they don't get caught with a butt-load of cocaine? So, here's my thought. Any of you cocaine smugglers want to get rid of your coffee beans after you've handed off the drugs, just shoot me an e-mail. I'll be glad to take the coffee beans off your hands for a decent price and that's one less thing for you to worry about. Cool?

I'll be waiting to hear from you!

Oh, What a Night!

Last night was all about the hook-up! Michelle, a.k.a. Ms. Not Afraid To Use It, has been in town visiting the 'rents and we got together at the Perimeter Mall Cheesecake Factory. Woo hoo! We hit it off immediately, talking religion, politics, love of Gene Roddenberry, kids, coffee, endometriosis, Dr. Nezhat, husbands, parents, and everything else! The two different parties seated next to us must have had a fun time de-constructing our conversations in their respective cars going home! We ate, ate, and ate some more, downing some good food, great cheesecake (mmmmmm, pumpkin pecan), and awesome coffee! Then, we shut the place down. They were turning on lights, mopping floors, and we were still gabbing. Can't wait to get together again, Michelle! I had a great time and it's too bad we don't live closer.

In honor of last night's introduction, I have for you, dear readers, pictures from my morning. See, Michelle was kind enough to bring me a bag of Starbucks' special Lake Tahoe blend. Yummy! So, my morning coffee ritual was made even more special and I just had to document it! Here, on the right, is the extra-special bag 'o Lake Tahoe Blend. On the back is a sticker, signed by Susan (the girl who bagged up the beans), stating that one dollar of the purchase of said bag goes to the League to Save Lake Tahoe. Wow! Gettin' my coffee on AND doing good at the same time. This, ladies and gentlemen, is one step away from Heaven. It would totally be Heaven if a young Sean Connery were serving me this coffee in a silver coffee service while wearing his swim trunks from Dr. No. But, I digress.

Once the beans are released from bag-bondage, they must be sniffed in the hopes that some caffeine will be absorbed through my nasal cavity. That, and it makes me feel like a true coffee-connoisseur.

Now, we grind up those babies, stick 'em in the good 'ole Hamilton Beach Brew Station, and wait for the coffee smell to permeate the house. Meanwhile, I go up to shower, and when I return, it's coffee time!






I'd say that's one satisfied coffee-drinker. Thanks again, Michelle!

I'd Like My Coffee "Leaded" Please!

This morning, like every other morning, I'm sitting in front of the news, holding J-man, and absorbing my one cup of coffee. Ahhhh... Starbucks' anniversary blend, Splenda, bit of hazelnut flavoring, and milk... heaven in a cup.

Over comes Miss-Miss who wants to taste my coffee. I give her a smidgen and she smiles and says, "Yum!" Off she goes.

A few moments later, she returns with Marlin (a little plastic figure of Marlin, Nemo's dad from Finding Nemo).

"Mama! Mama! Mart (her word for Marlin) coffee!" and PLUNK! in he goes.

You've got to be sh*tting me. Marlin is swimming in my coffee. Marlin, a Chinese-made Disney toy, covered in Miss-Miss "I've got a cold because my nose is running like a freight train" germs, is floating in what's left of my small slice of morning heaven. Friggin' wonderful.

After this thought and a moment with a stunned look on my face, I put J-man down, take the mug over to the sink, fish out the fish, rinse him off, and return him to Miss-Miss.

"Tank you, Mama."

I stare at my coffee for a moment, and down it. What the hell. I needed leaded coffee anyway.

I Am a Crack Whore

No, I don't smoke crack and no, I don't sell myself for my non-existent crack habit, but I do have addictions, some of which I would gladly make Faustian deals to have if unavailable (Yes! Take my pitiful soul for a chili dog! Where do I sign?) What, may you ask, do I need on a daily/weekly basis in order to survive? Allow me to elaborate.

First, there is Starbucks' anniversary blend coffee. We have already discussed my love of and need for coffee, each and every morning, here. But, each fall, Starbucks grants my wildest wishes with their anniversary blend. This year, it's a lovely mix of Asian coffees (read: very bold in flavor) and the nose and brain cells perk up whenever I smell it. Each morning in the fall that I have a bag of this stuff, I politely ask the Ty-man, "Do you want coffee?" and after this question I silently whisper Say no. Say no, because Ty-man does not appreciate the anniversary blend and I have to brew up something bland. Sorry hon, love you anyway.

Next, there is The Varsity chili/slaw dog. Oh. My. Sweet. Jesus. For those of you who don't know, The Varsity is an Atlanta institution for over 75 years. You walk in, cashiers holler, "What'll Ya Have?" and you let them know. No Pepsi products, here, no unsweet tea to be found on the premises, and you can forget about any kind of diet. Just breathing while inside The Varsity will cause you to gain at least five pounds and you can get a year's worth of grease fixing in just one evening. I love chili/slaw dogs and this place has the best. Go for the onion rings, too. Just clog up those arteries, baby!

Snapple Diet Peach Iced Tea. I'm chugging one of these beauties as I blog. Ahhhh. A Ph.D. student by the name of Wing Ho (so not kidding; he's Chinese) introduced me to the joy that is Snapple back in 1993. Recently, I've discovered the diet peach tea and this, besides blogging, typically gets me through my "kids are screaming, cats are yowling, and it's only 11AM" days. The other cool thing about Snapple? Each bottle lid contains a Snapple "Real Fact." This bottle's fact? "The first TV network kids show in the U.S. was 'Captain Kangaroo.'" Fascinating. I'm drinking and learning at the same time and isn't multi-tasking supposed to be a good thing?

Now, we come to the one thing I need each and every day, and that is........ chocolate. (Did you think I was going to say sex? Wrong!) You name the brand, I'll give it a go. I'm particularly fond of the dark variety and it doesn't matter if it's Hershey's, Toblerone, Godiva, Lindt, or Ritter-Sport (just to name a few), I'm an equal-opportunity chocolate addict. I have been known to lick chocolate fountains at parties and to make happy noise at the Melting Pot restaurant when partaking of one of their chocolate fondues. Hmmmmmm, bliss. "Hello, my name is Heather, and I'm a chocolate whore. I've sold my body and soul for a Kit Kat. I'm so ashamed."

Finally, yes, I freely admit to completing at least one if not more sudoku puzzles each day. After having the twins, I felt that my brain was turning to mush so I picked up a sudoku book and thus began my odyssey with 81 squares of pure logical joy. Head on over to Web Sudoku and give it a try. Once you try it, you'll be finding all instances of the number 9 throughout your day. Maddening, yes, but oddly satisfying.

Yes, these are my addictions, the little things that get me through the day. Well, these and that wonderful brick wall on which I have banged my head many times. Give me a shout with your "crack" addictions, because I'm interested to hear about all those lovely things my wonderful readers (all two of you) need. 'Cause, let's admit it, we're all crack whores in some form or fashion.

All Good Things...

...must come to an end. For example, Star Trek: TNG, Christmas (at least that comes around once a year), high school (actually, I'm glad that's over), final exams, a great scuba dive, and our coffeemaker. A Hamilton Beach Brew Station, to be exact, made its final cup of coffee this past Saturday. Devastation and chaos insued. You see, I was never a coffee drinker. All through childhood and my teens, I was a morning milk drinker (still am). Milk, moo-juice, white goodness in a glass, that was me, gettin' my calcium on. Throughout my 20s, I discovered hot tea. Let's see, there's Earl Grey, Irish Breakfast, Iron Goddess of Mercy, and a really weird PG Tips addiction around 2001. Then, I discovered the joy of coffee.

Five years ago, we had friends Michael and Kristi over for breakfast. We knew they were (and still are) hardcore coffee drinkers. So Ty-man and I dusted off the coffee machine (seven-year-old wedding present that had never been used) and brewed a pot. It wasn't bad for a first-timer. I even drank a mug of the stuff. Now, let me explain something. I'm a serious "cream and sugar with my coffee" kind of girl. Some mornings it's more, "Would you like coffee with your cream and sugar?" than anything else. Over the years I've had to replace cream and sugar with dried milk and Splenda. Hey, I need as much calcium as I can get and who wants to add cold milk to their coffee? That just makes your coffee lukewarm. No thanks! I guess you could add the milk and then nuke your coffee or nuke the milk before adding it to the coffee, but that just adds an extra step that I'm not ready to even attempt in the morning. But, I digress. I like my sweetened, creamy coffee, thank you very much. My beloved father-in-law is proud of his "one packet of Splenda in the entire pot" recipe. Yeah, Chuck, you can keep it 'cause I need the sweet as much as I need the caffeine!

OK, serious going off the track here. Anyway, I brewed that first pot of coffee about five years ago, at the age of 30. I called my mom and told her that it was official, I was an adult, because I was drinking coffee that I had brewed in my home. After that, I was a sometimes drinker, but when pregnant with the twins and suffering from evil morning progesterone-induced headaches, the coffee machine was cranked up every morning so that the caffeine would alleviate the pain. We went from a traditional glass carafe machine to the Brew Station because I'm a klutz. Show me a glass coffee carafe and I'll show you fifty ways to break or crack it in five minutes or less. I invested in a bean grinder and began keeping my beans in the fridge, that way I'm able to get the freshest mug possible. My coffee has become my morning lifeline. I'm a 2-mugger. Well, when I'm not breastfeeding, that is. I hate needles, but if I could get an insulin-pump-type coffee injection system, believe me when I say I'd be the first to sign up for it.

Well, this past Saturday, the Brew Station died a glorious death by leaking eight cups of coffee all over the counter (many applications of bleach later and the stain is almost gone). Tragedy! Agony! Oh, the horror! No time to get a new one! So, for the past two days, we've resorted to the local Starbucks and Chick-fil-A (not my favorite, but cheaper than Starbucks). Today, Ty-man came home with a new Brew Station. Woo hoo! I'll be able to get my legal addictive stimulant fix once again, fixed my way (strong enough to stand the spoon up and sweet enough to make you pucker), and fill my favorite mug to the brim. And what, you may ask is my favorite mug? Why, the one you see above, of course. Purchased at a Target three years ago, it's a Halloween mug that pretty much describes my state of being each and every morning.

Happy Java-ing!