You see right through me
Deep breathing I undertake
I need more coffee
Poignant, Opinionated, Feral and Female. Be scared. She Squared.
Showing posts with label coffee. Show all posts
Showing posts with label coffee. Show all posts
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Sex On The Brain
Sunday morning, my beloved Father-in-Law stops in for coffee on his way back from church. He does this most Sundays, occasionally accompanied by his lady wife. He wanders about, shoots the shit, and finds something to pick on in our house.
"The dust bunnies under your TV are multiplying."
"Do you plan on ever using your dining room table for eating again?"
"How many SHOES do you need?!"
And of course, this Sunday morning's classic was:
"What on earth is that hanging on your bed? A camera? What are you guys DOING in here?!"
(It should be noted for the record that the camera he thought he espied was in fact the booklight my father bought me for Christmas, so that I may read into the night without disturbing my sweetie. Only my Father-in-Law could make that about sex)
"The dust bunnies under your TV are multiplying."
"Do you plan on ever using your dining room table for eating again?"
"How many SHOES do you need?!"
And of course, this Sunday morning's classic was:
"What on earth is that hanging on your bed? A camera? What are you guys DOING in here?!"
(It should be noted for the record that the camera he thought he espied was in fact the booklight my father bought me for Christmas, so that I may read into the night without disturbing my sweetie. Only my Father-in-Law could make that about sex)
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
On Bizarre Conversations
Dunkin Donuts, after ordering a medium iced Mocha Latte...
DD Employee:(handing me my drink) Mocha Latte?
Me: Thank you.
DD Employee: Did you say "pancake"?
Me: Noooo, I said "Thank you".
DD Employee: Did you order a Mocha Latte?
Me: Yes.
DD Employee:(taking the drink back) Well this is Caramel.
DD Employee:(handing me my drink) Mocha Latte?
Me: Thank you.
DD Employee: Did you say "pancake"?
Me: Noooo, I said "Thank you".
DD Employee: Did you order a Mocha Latte?
Me: Yes.
DD Employee:(taking the drink back) Well this is Caramel.
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Don't Drug-Text me
Today, my beloved Ligie had to go have an MRI. My sweetie has a little anxiety over closed spaces (such as airplanes...), so about three Xanax made their way into her system before she had to go into the cage. Her appointment was at 3:30, so by the time I got out of class at 5pm, they had firmly begun to knock her unconscious.
As is my usual plan of action, I was going to stop by Starbucks on the way home, so I called her to see if she wanted anything. The first phone call went unanswered, the second was answered by silence, and the third went to voicemail. At this point I just wanted to cover my butt in case she was awake when I got home with one coffee in hand, so I sent her a text. No answer, so one coffee it was.
When I finally arrived, my sweetie was laying on top of the bed, completely out cold. I'll leave out the part about the drool-covered pillow, so that we can all pretend that never happened.
Oops.
Alice was laying on top of her, cleaning her hair, so I grabbed Barb's cell phone to take a video of it, to show her later. It was open, and on it was the following message, mid-composition:
"Ohhkthcmds ilwj"
That was her response to me. My beloved passed out as she was writing it. In hindsight, I should be grateful, because while I speak drugged-Ligie, drugged-texting-Ligie is a little bit of a stretch. I have a feeling that had I given that to a barista, Barb would have got a half-caf-double-shot-three-pump-sugar-free-mocha-chip-latte. Hold the whip.
As is my usual plan of action, I was going to stop by Starbucks on the way home, so I called her to see if she wanted anything. The first phone call went unanswered, the second was answered by silence, and the third went to voicemail. At this point I just wanted to cover my butt in case she was awake when I got home with one coffee in hand, so I sent her a text. No answer, so one coffee it was.
When I finally arrived, my sweetie was laying on top of the bed, completely out cold. I'll leave out the part about the drool-covered pillow, so that we can all pretend that never happened.
Oops.
Alice was laying on top of her, cleaning her hair, so I grabbed Barb's cell phone to take a video of it, to show her later. It was open, and on it was the following message, mid-composition:
"Ohhkthcmds ilwj"
That was her response to me. My beloved passed out as she was writing it. In hindsight, I should be grateful, because while I speak drugged-Ligie, drugged-texting-Ligie is a little bit of a stretch. I have a feeling that had I given that to a barista, Barb would have got a half-caf-double-shot-three-pump-sugar-free-mocha-chip-latte. Hold the whip.
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
On Coffee, Money, and Coffee Money
So, it's official. Let the mockery commence. I have been hired as an employee of a multi-million dollar beverage corporation. I shall be creating and dispensing fancy hot, cold, and very, very cold beverages to the masses. To again circumvent getting dooced, I will be calling said employment CoffeeLand. On first meet, I am loving my boss there. Very cool. He has a lot of the type A personality traits it takes to be a really good manager in this kind of business, but also a sense of humor like none I've seen in a boss. It'll be good, I think. We need the money, and I'm willing to do what it takes. maybe when Lisa graduates and is allowed full time work we won't be strapped to this extent and I can relax a little bit. For now, this is the way it is. No sense getting worked up. I'll just have a decaf.
Monday, August 4, 2008
Because That Makes Sense...
On the drive home from a well-deserved Starbucks Decaf Nonfat Caramel Macchiato with an extra pump of sugar-free vanilla syrup for me and a Mint Mocha Chip Lite Frappuchino with no whipped cream (minus the chips due to an apparent counter-wide shortage) Lisa explained her day to me. Rather, she waited patiently for me to finish my rantings about mine before she could get a word in. Today was just one of those Mondays when you wake up, get through your day and realize that it would have been a better day all around if you had only been apprehended by a savage band of spider monkeys who tied you to a cactus and forced you to listen to Amy Winehouse podcast interviews and bite your toenails to an uneven length. It was just that bad.
So, Lisa works at Completely Fake University, henceforth to be known as CFU or FU for short - so as not to "Dooce" ourselves. It is there where she slaves the labour of love to educate select members of the masses. She also attends some classes from time to time as well. She is often requested by professors to tutor other students in the highest levels of certain types of classes, even when she has never taken that subject. As this happens often, she has had to "crash and learn" many things via a book and Google search, and as a result is kind of disgustingly smart.
Today she had to tutor one such case and got through the session helping the person and learning the subject as well. I queried why no one else could tutor, and she said that no one other than the professors knows the material. Well, the same went for her, except she put in the hour of study and mastered it. I guess that's the kind of gal she is. Well, by the time she was summing up the day, she said there was a person she couldn't help. The rest was this.
Me: Why couldn't you help them?
Lisa: Because I'm taking that particular class, and they have a rule at CFU that says you cannot tutor someone if you are currently studying that subject.
Me: Oh, but it's fine to tutor someone in something you've never even heard of?
Lisa: Apparently.
So, Lisa works at Completely Fake University, henceforth to be known as CFU or FU for short - so as not to "Dooce" ourselves. It is there where she slaves the labour of love to educate select members of the masses. She also attends some classes from time to time as well. She is often requested by professors to tutor other students in the highest levels of certain types of classes, even when she has never taken that subject. As this happens often, she has had to "crash and learn" many things via a book and Google search, and as a result is kind of disgustingly smart.
Today she had to tutor one such case and got through the session helping the person and learning the subject as well. I queried why no one else could tutor, and she said that no one other than the professors knows the material. Well, the same went for her, except she put in the hour of study and mastered it. I guess that's the kind of gal she is. Well, by the time she was summing up the day, she said there was a person she couldn't help. The rest was this.
Me: Why couldn't you help them?
Lisa: Because I'm taking that particular class, and they have a rule at CFU that says you cannot tutor someone if you are currently studying that subject.
Me: Oh, but it's fine to tutor someone in something you've never even heard of?
Lisa: Apparently.
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Drinking at the Fountain of Satan
I enjoy coffee. Reeeeeaaaaaalllly. Love it. Every form of it. I am enjoying the Lite Lattes at Dunkin's. I like a cup brewed at home. I enjoy small and fun cafes with wacky decor and interesting reading materials. If only the Diesel Café was here, or I was there, I would have made it my home.
But my greatest sin is my love of the mighty Starbucks. Oh, if it were a golden idol, the bruised knees I would suffer! There are a few select beverages that I adore there, and I can walk in and order them with the tone in my voice that implies both that I know what I want and that I am so cool that it bores me. I don't mean for it to come out that way, but the ordering system makes it so. I have been assimilated.
This week, I ordered custom rechargeable Starbucks cards for both Lisa and myself. thus is my addiction. I need a support group, but don't they serve shitty coffee at those things?
My Card!
Want one?
But my greatest sin is my love of the mighty Starbucks. Oh, if it were a golden idol, the bruised knees I would suffer! There are a few select beverages that I adore there, and I can walk in and order them with the tone in my voice that implies both that I know what I want and that I am so cool that it bores me. I don't mean for it to come out that way, but the ordering system makes it so. I have been assimilated.
This week, I ordered custom rechargeable Starbucks cards for both Lisa and myself. thus is my addiction. I need a support group, but don't they serve shitty coffee at those things?
My Card!
Want one?
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