I Feel Like a Cliche

So, I have graduated from sitting on my couch and surfing the web to the coffee shop three blocks away, sitting on a couch and surfing the web. It just makes me giggle. My first casual outing and I do exactly what I would do at home. I am even ordered an iced latte with sugar free chocolate syrup. The same drink I make for myself at home. The sad thing is that I was so excited that they had sugar free chocolate that I ordered it without even thinking. At least it tastes a little better than I would have made it. They probably used whole milk instead of skim.

When I arrived, I had to walk pass an entire row of tables full of people working on their laptops. Then I looked around to see if there was a place to sit and noticed that all the laptop users were at tables. This caused a small panic attack because I hate the chairs they have for their tables. I seriously stopped to wonder if I would be breaking a rule or something by sitting on a couch. Is there an unwritten social norm that I have to sit at a table if I have a laptop? Then after all of two seconds pondering the idea I realized that I didn't care. Once I bust out my computer, they will realize I am above any of their petty rules. The cover is orange with fighting robots!

I always worry on my way over here that this place is just a little too cool for me. I know there are people here who are just hanging out, but I can never shake that pretentious vibe. The world may hate me but that is why I prefer Starbucks. I love to shop locally, but I just can't get into these local coffee shops. They radiate this holier than thou, judgmental attitude that I don't like. I don't go to church for the exact reason, why would I pay to drink my coffee in the same environment? I am terrified that they are going to ask me for my order and I am going to blurt out, "I don't pay extra for organic!"

Now that I've settled into my area and feel comfortable, I can see it isn't really that bad at all. They gave me a to go cup without asking, allowing me to avoid the whole embarrassment of getting it to go but drinking it here. It's not that I need the plastic cup. I just like the idea that I have the option of leaving whenever I want. I blame my dread of coming down here on growing up in the Northwest.

Holy Hell, those coffee places are frightening. If you ask for anything that remotely resembles a Starbucks drink, I am pretty sure they spit in your glass. Even if you disguise your order, they know. I can tell by the sneer. They talk to you like espresso is wine and you should know the difference between Guatemalan bold and South African spicy. I suffer derision for ordering decaf. It's true. I even had to develop an automatic response to keep myself from feeling like I am in gym class waiting to be picked for volleyball. They look down at me from over their thick, black rims and snort, "Why bother?" To which I can now calmly and unemotionally respond, "I don't drink coffee for a buzz, I drink it for the flavor." How or why that works, I don't know and I don't care. All I know is it calls off the dogs.

And God forbid you order no foam. I don't know what it is about the Northwest and their foam, but apparently asking for no foam is like asking for a fork with your sushi. Personally, I think they get pissed because they can't take an extra five minutes to create an ingenious design that you are forced to admire. (Ooh, I bet the design is also the reason they hate to go cups. Lids don't allow them to express themselves creatively!) But, I don't like foam; it keeps the heat in the coffee. I like it barely more than warm. Either I have a sensitive mouth or the general population has built up a protective layer of scarring. How do you manage to drink a scalding hot cup of coffee without burning your tongue irreparably for the rest of the day? That is one of life's great mysteries in my book. I can only imagine what would happen if I ordered a latte extra warm. I might even render a barista (what is the male version of that word?) speechless. I could tell them that at least they would get to draw in their foam.

I am so doing that the next time I visit Portland!

Your Princess is in Another Castle

This is the best break up line ever. Except if the person actually understood this line, I would be married to him instead of leaving him. Is that ironic? I can never figure out the exact definition of ironic. My understanding is that ironic is when the literal definition of something is the exact opposite of the what happens. Which would mean that "a free ride, once you've already paid" is ironic. I don't know why that word drives me so nuts. Mostly because by its own definition, I don't believe that it should actually exist. That word should self destruct upon realizing itself.

I am in this weird recovery phase where I sort of feel better so I finally want to do a bunch of stuff, but I still don't have the stamina to do it. Which leaves me feeling impotent and frustrated. I feel like I have so much to get done before I go to work on Monday, but I just can't make myself. Plus, the weather is gorgeous so I want to go enjoy it, but I have no motivation, so I just wander around the house all day. Which is the only thing I really have to be doing. I have to not sit all day long so that I can get used to not being a zombie. Blech. My poor brain is actually spinning because it thinks that it can achieve so much. Meanwhile, my body is vehemently disagreeing, and since my brain controls my mouth, my body's only communication is through my muscles. And let me tell you they are screaming, "No!" Holy Geeze, did I start talking about my aches and pains again. I am going to change my name to Shakes McGranny here pretty soon.

That's it, I am leaving the house tomorrow. I don't care if nothing gets done. I am going to find three dimensional entertainment or perish. Maybe I will stop random people on the street and ask them to tell me jokes. That ought to be entertaining for everyone involved. The local color here is entertaining in and of itself. When my mom visited, she informed me one afternoon after she walked home that she saw a guy peeing in an alley right before she spoke to a nice young man who had problems adjusting his nylons. Now, I don't have a problem with transvestites. I have a crush on Eddie Izzard. Even when he is in drag. Maybe more when he is in drag. It's just that I know my neighborhood, and I can assure you that this guy was not in Eddie's league. Like where I grew up we had a TV who used to run around in a dress with a mop for a wig. He was a nutjob. Not that the mop made him crazy, he was just a crazy in a mop. I'm pretty sure the guy my mom saw was more like mophead than Eddie.

So yeah, if I can just make it out of the house, I am sure something blog worthy will present itself.