Starbucks: I Guess I Don't Know All the Terms Going In

I love coffee.

Surprise!

You didn't know that, did you?

On Thanksgiving Day, we decided to stop at Starbuck's before heading to the movies. You should know, and probably already do, that I am not a frequent customer of "St. Arbucks" (coined by my friend, Melody). It's not that I don't like Starbuck's. I just prefer the independent guy. And gal.

So we pop in to get a drink.

George asks me to order him an Au Lait.

"Hi. Can I get an Au Lait, please?"

"A what?" is the answer I receive.

"An Au Lait."

"Well?! What do you want in it?"

"I'm sorry. I don't understand. Coffee, steamed milk . . ."

"No, I mean, how many shots?"

"Oh! Sorry. Do you make yours with espresso? Ok. Um, just one."

She leans over to the barista and says, "She says she wants an Au Lait."

Followed by "mumble, mumble", and then, YES, I kid you not: a visible eye roll.

Why? Did I do something wrong?

She turns back to me.

"By the way. What you ordered? It's actually called a Misto."

Hmmm, well, yes, it can be referred to as a Misto, (most notably at Starbuck's), but, actually, it's an Au Lait. Coffee and steamed milk. It was Thanksgiving. I didn't get into terminology with her. She was working on Thanksgiving - and probably not too happy about that. I gave her a pass and chose not to give her my husband's resume . . .

George returned.

"Here's your Misto."

"My what? I wanted an Au Lait."

Are there any other "fancy" newfangled terms I should know about? Either at Starbuck's or other establishments?

Addict

I know.

This post could be titled "duh". Move along. Nothing to see here.

We all know I'm a coffee addict.

My husband is aware of it.

My kids see my daily need for coffee.

My blog is my online coffee shop where I chat about everything.

I'm not hiding anything.

But, why the post about it?

Cause, all joking aside, I really am addicted to coffee. Going on 20 years now. It was post-college when I truly joined the coffee craze and shops starting springing up like weeds. Really tasty weeds.

Just as a smoker craves to hold a cigarette between their fingers, I too crave the warmth on my hands that only comes from cradling a steaming cup of comfort. Sometimes I don't even want to drink it, but rather, hold it, for my addiction is also a tactile one.

During a morning power outage yesterday I was thankful that George had already fired up the Keurig and passed me my morning glory. For a brief moment I had an internal discussion as to what I would have done if the outage had happened earlier, thus making him unable to power up the machine that brews crutch.

How much do I drink? Really, not much. (And that statement just screams denial. Does it not?)

Three. Maybe, four cups a day - one of them, sadly, decaf. I realize that this doesn't sound like much. Only, coffee is the FIRST thing I think about when I wake in the morning.

No joke.

Honestly, I can NOT quit anytime I want, for I don't want to quit.

Right now, the biggest issue with my java jubilee is that I don't drink enough water. Which comes back to bite me, as I'm currently doing this. Working out hard without proper hydration sucks the life out of me, and not even caffeine can bring it back.

So, here I sit, typing my admission to you.

My name is Joline and I am a javaholic.

Now, enough of this silliness. It's already 10:00 AM and I've not yet had my second cup yet.

Well, don't just sit there. Chop chop.

Rollin' In It

This is my joint.

I've never been a St. Arbuck's girl.  Sure, I'll go in for a cup if I'm meeting friends, or on a long road trip, but it has never been my coffee shop of choice.  See, it's hard to go from years of this, to mass marketing.

Now, when I need "my time",  I go here.

When we first visited Beaver TWO YEARS ago - wow - we walked into Kolache and I knew instantly that IF George took the job at Four Mile, living within walking distance of this place would be a non-negotiable.  For Beaver was pretty much "country" compared to what I'd know for 40 years of my life. The ability to walk to Cafe Kolache would be a necessary part of my adapting to a new community.

My mom sauntered up to the counter and ask the owner what it was like living in Beaver.  I gave her a light shove to say "SHUT-UP" for we had the kids with us at the time, and they thought we were on a spontaneous vacation in Pittsburgh Beaver.  What Hugh didn't know at the time, was that we were casing the town, while the church was casing us.  My Mom just about blew our cover.

Just the mere presence of Cafe Kolache gave me comfort on that trip, for I knew I was potentially facing a huge life change.  As silly as it sounds, a local coffee shop would offer me some sense of the familiar.

Flash forward TWO YEARS later.  After a year of having a son still in half-day pre-school for our first year in Beaver, he is now at school full-time three days a week.  Thus, I FINALLY have the time to return to the "days of my youth" (or rather, the days of my young married life) when I would spend every morning at the coffee shop that George managed while in seminary.

I have been waiting for this season of my life to arrive.

I saunter in, sometimes in a foul mood if the morning routine didn't go so well around the house, get a cuppa, exchange banter with the staff, grab my seat, and begin to write.  I sip some soup, order some rolls, and chit chat with other customers.  My favorite day to date:  busting out to "You Keep Me Hangin' On" with a few others as it came over the radio.  The "Oooh's" were particularly delightful.

I really like this place.  Can you tell?

So when Kolache called ME yesterday to see if I wanted a few dozen rolls because they'd baked too many that day, I knew.

They like me.  They really like me.

I gladly accepted and arranged to get the yummy loot after picking up Zane at school.  No, they weren't free (and I wouldn't dream of just taking them), and yet, they came with something more important.

The offer of those rolls signifies that Kolache has indeed become, as my son puts it, "mommy's special place."

Thanks Kristi and Hugh.  For you didn't know back in October of 2008 that the shop made an enormous impression on me.  It has taken me a year to finally make coming in every week a habit.  It's hilarious when I realize that you've seen "all of me": pre-workout, post-workout (sorry - I stink), dressed in actual clothes and NOT wearing a bandana, laughing with my children, frustrated with my children, talking with girlfriends, writing, stumped, angry with George, or just enjoying some time out with the entire family all together.

You've even seen me without my wallet - and you fed me anyway!

I'm rollin' in small town love.

Thanks.

Lamentations 3: 22-24

Lamentations 3: 22-24 (New Living Bible)

²² The faithful love of the Lord never ends!
His mercies never cease.
²³ Great is his faithfulness;
his mercies begin afresh each morning.
²⁴ I say to myself, “The Lord is my inheritance;
therefore, I will hope in him!”

I was pleasantly awaken this morning by, nope, not George, but Harper with a hot cup of morning joe in her hand (interestingly enough in my "No Whining" mug). It was early. Earlier than usual for her to even be up. She was dressed.

I heard Zane up as well. He was still in pj's, but had apparently discarded his nighttime pull-up, having changed into clean underwear on his own, and had already eaten breakfast.

Zane entered with a cheerful, "Good morning, Mommy. I am the Captain of Coffee and Harper is my helper. She made it."

It was true.

As George recounts it, the kids woke very early. George was already up when Harper came downstairs dressed and eagerly offering to make breakfast for everyone.

"Dad, I got breakfast. You can go walk the dog."

She heated up Zane's pancakes (we make a huge stack at the beginning of the week and freeze them), and popped some bagels in the toaster while George walked the dog down to 7-11 to pick up some coffee. He returned home to see Harper serving Zane his breakfast.

She then got the coffee going, properly doctored the morning elixir, and delivered it to me.

It wasn't even 7:30.

George said he was so overwhelmed by the actions and countenance of Harper and Zane this morning that he walked the dog in tears. We are blessed beyond measure. We know this.

We. Absolutely. Know. This.

The remainder of the morning included:

• Secretly watching Zane attempt to make his bed
• Harper telling me to step away from her dirty clothes as SHE would bring them to the hamper
• A snuggle-fest with George and Zane on the bed during which Zane used all his "love talk" to woo me
• Harper helping me make the bed
• And many other "blinks" of God's goodness that I am unable to even recount, as there seemed to be such a multitude of "mercy moments" buzzing and whizzing through the climate of our home at such a high rate of speed that I couldn't possibly get them all recorded
  

It is Friday. Better know as "Joline has the entire morning to herself" day. It is 9:30. I am relishing the mercies God poured out this morning, am looking forward to a salon visit for a new sassy, snappy do, am surrounded by an incredibly clean and easily kept home (after weeks of doing so, it becomes a habit), and am breathing a bit more freely this morning.

God can use anyone to minister.

Thanks, Lord, for using my children.

Additional thought . . . after experiencing this incredible morning, I thought it would be interesting to go back in time. Here is my post from April 3, 2008. Quite a different morning this year.

21 Days

This used to be me.

Ok, maybe I'm stretching the "used to be". It's only been 3 days.

I'm not convinced that I'll be completely giving up my literal cuppa joe after my 21 day dietary detox comes to an end, but I may have to adjust the amount I drink every day.

So, for the next 18 days just refer to me as Cuppa Tea.

How is it going?

Glad you asked.

Day One: I was plagued by a day long headache which felt as if an anvil had been dropped on my head and someone was proceeding to pound on the anvil with a jackhammer. Yeah. It was bad. Dizzy. Light headed. Foggy. The feelings you would expect to experience while on a starvation diet. Funny thing was, I was eating every 3 hours. The program allows me GREAT food. Whole foods. No processed junk. Plus, no gluten, no dairy, no sugar, and no coffee. So, just imagine this bagel buying, cheese chewing, sugar salivating, coffee craver going cold turkey (I can eat cold turkey). Not even delicious fresh fruit smoothies, steel cut oatmeal (yummy), amazing salads with tons of veggies and chicken, plus snacks, helped. This was an immediate clue to the fact that my dietary habits have been affecting me more than I have realized. Afterall, shouldn't healthy whole foods make one feel good? Well, yes. But, for me, on Day One, they didn't. Popped the Advil and thought to myself, "I can't do this."

I am also using some supplements grown on an organic farm up in Wisconsin that uses their vegetables to make supplements. I use their shake powder (who knew that brussel sprouts and collard greens could end up in a smoothie powder), extra fiber tablets, and next week, will begin taking a whole food supplement.

Day Two: Woke up feeling FULL of energy. Got up at 6:15 to make my very large breakfast which consisted of a shake, with the supplement powder as the base, and a banana, blueberries, strawberries, and flax seed oil. Also had a hard-boiled egg and steel cut oatmeal. Seriously, breakfast prior to Friday's start had always been a cup of coffee and some bacon. Got through the day just fine. No headaches. I really do enjoy making "garbage" salads for lunch: salads with every chunky veggie one can find, plus lean protein. I'm also making my own dressing. Olive oil, balsamic, spices. Can't wait to experiment with grapeseed oil, lemon, or apple cider vinegar. I have ideas. And making my own dressing is so much cheaper! Dinner? George made a chicken in our clay pot (we LOVE our clay pot) and I made sure to eat just the white meat with some broccoli and red bell pepper on the side.

As a result, guess who are also eating more vegetables? Hint, one uses Nutella.

Day Three: This was the day that would really show whether I was truly feeling better or just feeling a placebo effect. I led worship this morning and had to be at church by 8:00, ready to rehearse and sing for two services. I was up early and feeling fantastic. I had a huge breakfast and found that I wasn't even hungry until around 1:00 when we arrived home from the morning. The other interesting development is that I felt less congested when I awoke - which is rare. I almost always have some nasal/vocal issues in the morning, regardless of whether I have a cold. Not today. I just feel better. And I'm waking more easily - no hungover feeling.

Lunch was my "garbage" salad again (threw in avocado and hard-boiled egg this time) and for dinner I made turkey burgers and veggies. Which reminds me that I need some good recipes for artichokes.

I have also been enjoying a variety of green tea's (the only caffeine I can have) and decaf herbal tea's. That, combined with a little over 64 oz of water day, has me leaping to the rest room more often than normal, but hey, that's all part of detoxing the body, right? Flush it out baby.

My energy level is HIGH. I have been able to handle general household stressers (messy kitchen, the laundry monster, potty training - not myself - I make it to the bathroom just fine) with more ease. George is wondering who has invaded my body to motivate me to actually fill and empty the dishwasher.

Fuzzy brain? Not so much right now. I'm just handling things better.

It's only Day Three, so I don't see any external changes, but I do, without a doubt feel a difference inside. But I do need to incorporate exercise. George has been great about exercising every morning, so maybe I'll try and join him tomorrow - if I have time - I have alot to eat for breakfast and that may not leave time for working out . . . :)

Before I began this process, I had my weight and fat % checked. It will be interesting to see how this changes as of November 27th. Thanksgiving Day.

How appropriate that my 21st day will be Thanksgiving Day. Did I plan that well, or what?

"It is better to LOOK good, than to feel good"

And Mrs. Palin, "You look mahvelous!"

According to the little gaggle of women I overheard at an area coffee shop this morning, you are "very pretty"! And that is sooooooooo exciting!

Seriously, folks. I think I should be a private eye. I just blend right in with my latte, biscotti, and reading material, which is currently, "Understanding Girls With ADHD". No one would ever suspect that I have a bionic ear.

As I listened to the "political" discussion at the next table, I was embarrassed to be a woman. And this, from a woman who actually sells lipstick! To pit bulls! And pigs. NOOOOOO! That was NOT directed at anyone in particular. Just calm yourself down already.

Although, I must add that lipstick sales are UP! Thanks, Sarah! Thank you, Obama.

Ugh. Digression. Sorry.

Here's how the discussion went down.

Lady #1: Are you excited about Sarah Palin?

Lady #2: You mean our next Vice President! Yes!!! I mean, I really don't know anything about her, and I haven't watched any speeches, but she is fantastic!

Lady #3: And she's really pretty!

All: Yes. Oh yes. Isn't she so pretty. Tee hee, tee hee, hardy har, har, har.

WHAT?????!!!!!!!!!!!!! This is your criteria? Quit sniffing and/or swallowing the product you are purchasing from me. It's not meant to be ingested!

I have watched every speech. I am reading everything I can get my hands on. I am watching every interview. This woman has been so coached to deliver the scripted and "approved"answers she has been rehearsing since the RNC, that she has to refrain from even blinking during an interview (a good sign that you can tell her head was spinning to retrieve the correct, manufactured answer located in the information Rolodex in her head, and yet she didn't want to lead on that it was spinning). Take it from one who used to coach speeches, interviews, and monologues. Sarah Palin did not look comfortable. Her eyes were transfixed, almost vacant, overdoing the eye contact, (which is what one does when they are relying soley on memorization), her hand wagged on each point as a crutch to help her remember the answers, and not even dropping a "Charlie" every so often to create a sense of relationship really worked in her favor. She didn't look relaxed.

But, yeah, she looks really pretty.

Doesn't that make you feel good?

Ideal Mornings

Yeah, no, this isn't me.

But, the photo feels like me. At least it feels like the me of the last two days. It's the me I wish to see. Without the hunching over, as I still have knot's in my back from sitting at the computer with horrible posture, and stressing over my schedule for the Fall. Read on.

I've had two ideal mornings. The ideal I have in mind for myself. The ideal which includes waking up and getting everyone where they need to be and then returning home to sit and write for the PR gig, while enjoying a non-rushed cup of coffee, and then using the remainder of the morning to make the Mary Kay phone calls and follow ups that I need to in order to continue building my business.

Tuesday found me writing a release and then booking appointments.

Wednesday found me writing a release and then booking appointments.

Tomorrow will find me . . .

Teaching.

I'm struggling with it. I'm praying about it. I'm sensing the need to do some readjusting for my Fall schedule, which at this point only allows me one morning a week without somewhere to be. Monday morning: bible study (non-negotiable), Tuesday morning: Zane day (no school), Wednesday morning: teaching all morning and 2 afternoon's a month, Thursday morning: Zane day (no school), Friday morning: mine.

I'm nervous. Zane is at the point of beginning to fight and drop the afternoon nap. And although I insist that he stay in his bed for at least an hour and a half, even if he doesn't sleep, the distraction of him calling me over and over is not conducive for work. I need open mornings.

I don't have open mornings.

Correction. I have one open morning.

I'm struggling for the ideal work environment. The environment which marries the writing and Mary Kay. God knows I wrote enough about that dream over the last few months. I won't even link you to those posts. If you've been reading, you know what I'm talking about.

So, I pray. I pray for God's leading.

His ideal.

Comforting Thoughts

Zane's Date with Mommy: Conversation 1

Zane and I like to frequent Blind Faith Cafe on Friday mornings for hot chocolate and coffee. It's our date. He loves dating.

As he sipped his hot chocolate today, he began to rub his tummy and sigh,

"Oh, this is comfortably good."

What a sentiment to hot chocolate, right?

And then,

"Mommy, I want to go into an air balloon with you. I'd like to go in the basket with you. We'd be very safe. Not like in the Wizard of Oz." From this point on, a new conversation was launched, which you, the reader, can check out in the post below.

But for now . . .

My son is such an old soul at times. Frankly, some of his phrases and responses to questions sound as if he's decades older than he is.

"Zane, how did you nap?" is met with "Very well, thank you."

"Zane! You pooped! Yeah!" is met with "Please mommy. Lower voices please."

"Daddy, they are playing Tigerlily music." In response to a piece played by the Grant Park Orchestra Wednesday evening.

So when he exclaimed that the hot chocolate was "comfortably good" I sat back and really stared into those baby blue's of his. There is so very much going on in his beautiful head. His beautiful, can't kiss him enough, head.

I'm sorry that you've been having nightmares about polar bear monsters chasing little boys.

Think of those "air balloons", Zane. The "very safe" one's.

I'd be glad to join you in the basket.

Wicked Coincidence!

Zane's Date with Mommy: Conversation 2

Zane begins a discussion about The Wizard of Oz out of nowhere.

"Mommy, what is the witch's name in Wizard of Oz?"

"Well, we now know her name is Elphaba."

"She's not nice. And that girl, um, what's her name?"

"Dorothy."

"Right. Dorothy kills the witch."

"How does she kill the witch, Zane?"

"Um, with steam."

"Well, what does she pour on her?"

"Oh. Water. She was not very good."

"No, Zane, the witch was evil."

"That is a scary movie."

"Yes, it can be."

A customer enters the store and orders a coffee.

Just keep reading. The fact that this guy entered is important. Wait.

"What is the name of the witch's army?"

I had to think on this one.

"Well, she had flying monkey's. Is that who you mean?"

"Um."

"No? Well, they were like an army, but didn't have a name other than Flying Monkey's. I think."

It's at this point that the male customer who is fixing his coffee turns to us and says,

"I think he means the witch's guards."

"Oh! That makes sense. Do you mean the guards, Zane?"

"YES!"

The man continues, "They sing 'Oh ee oh . . .'"

I then sing the guards chant to Zane.

The customer continues, "It actually means 'We serve her and only her' backwards."

I look at him blankly.

"I'm one of the Executive Producers of 'Wicked'".

That explains that.

But can anyone explain how my son and I can be having hot chocolate and coffee while randomly discussing The Wizard of Oz only to have one of the producers of Wicked, of all shows, enter the shop in the middle of our conversation?

Seriously, does anyone find that interesting?

Come on! Have a little fun basking in the mystery of coincidence.

Used What?

Yep. I've posted yet another pic of boy's underwear.
Why?

Because apparently, my site is just ripe for shoppers who need boy's underwear. Even used boys underwear.

Not to tick of the nice folks at AdSense, as this is my first day posting ad's on my site in the hopes of getting even the tiniest of extra dough for my shameless plugs, but used voys underwear? Really? Used?

Ok, yes, my son does wear hand me down underwear from his cousins. But, you know, that's keeping it in the family. I am a huge consigner of my kids clothes, but I don't send my children's used underwear off to Hand Me Downs for resale.

I don't know, maybe I'm missing yet another money making opportunity. Pre-owned Spiderman trunks. Gently Used Buzz Lightyear Tightie Whities. Can Barely Make Out the Stain Shrek Drawers.

Ah, but truly they would need to be pristine and, well, Zane is having a difficult time with a certain type of potty training of the messy variety. So, I'm afraid his drawers wouldn't help the family budget.

Enough with the potty talk? Sorry, you're here and this is my life. If you've been reading, I warned that while Zane's potty training is "done", "done" has a very unique definition.

"Done", with respect to Zane, doesn't quite mean what it implies. We're still at it.

Oprah A-ha moment! Maybe I should get some used underwear for him to wear during this transition time. This way we won't mess up the really nice one's. I could just pitch 'em if the outcome is too much to bear.

And I'll give up caffeine!

No, on both counts.

Wait! The ad's have now changed to coffee sites.

Much better.

Coffee: God's Proof That He Loves Us

I am one of those people who can drink coffee all hours of the day. I am also one of those people who really enjoys the taste of coffee. Yes, I'll admit that in the morning, I indulge in my creamy cup because I do need the wake up jolt. In fact, we're now in the practice of setting the coffee maker to wake before us so that when we finally get out of bed we are greeted with the morning aroma of steamy joe eager to be poured. This is quite nice.

And yet, even though I do use this nectar to wake me, this is not the only reason for my love affair with coffee. For I do, indeed, love the taste.

So, around this time of year in the Christian calendar, Lent arrives, beckoning us to "give up" or "refrain" from something in our lives. As Christ sacrificed for us, we too, attempt to follow His lead by sacrificing the time and thought and energy we would actually give to this action or object, for the purpose of prayer and reflection and focus upon Him.

I guess I've never really understood the practice of giving something up for Lent, as I've never met someone, who after refraining from an action or object during Lent actually chose to make it a life change. Admittedly, I find the idea of knowingly giving something up for Lent with the intention of taking it back after Easter quite foreign. Now, perhaps experiencing a "life change" is not even the reason or true intention of Lent. Maybe I just have it wrong. I'm just wired to believe that if I am going to be devoted to the process of removing something from my life for 40 days, there should be a desire for this time of abstinence to be one which is actually transforming past the 40 day mark. For example, is it truely sacrifice if I'm merely counting down the days until I can eat sugar or chocolate again? I just don't find that authentic or really that sacrificial.

Now, if I am indeed replacing the time and energy I devote to my indulgence in sugar or chocolate with a time of prayer and reflection, then sure, this practice, this discipline, is one of value.

The issue here, could be, that I've just never experienced a true time of reflection during Lent. Nor do I know many who have actually embraced Lent as more than a time to just haphazardly say, "I'm giving up ________ for Lent." without further discussion.

I guess I just don't like to do things half-arsed.

So, IF I were to take up a Lenten practice, what would I sacrifice with the intent that I would actually make a long term change that would positively affect my relationship with the Lord, my family, and my community?

Coffee?

Nope.

I'd just take that back afterwards. My point.

How about: Watching less TV in the evenings? Yes. Getting to bed earlier? Yes. Rising earlier? Yes. These are the three areas of my life where a long term change would be of great benefit to my relationship with the Lord, my husband, my children, and my health.

These are areas where I NEED the Lord's help and strength.

These are areas where I NEED the Lord's discipline.

These are areas where I NEED the Lord's power.

These are the areas that I can not win a power struggle with myself. I NEED God's movement in my life on these.

Others may NEED God's movement for diet, nutrition, shopping, attitude while driving, whatever. My intention is not to cheapen anyone's Lenten experience.

My intention is to take a deeper look at WHY we choose what we choose to "give up" and to acknowledge that the practice of Lenten abstinence can, and should, be a time for us to experience the Lord's renewal for the long haul as He remolds and rehshapes us through our sacrificial actions and choices.

Most importantly, however, is our need to give up something for which we lack the power to give up on our own, but rather NEED the Lord's intimate intervention. It is something for which our reliance upon ourselves is shattered, and thus, turns our eyes to Jesus.

This is no short term task.

Am I a short-termer or a long-hauler?

I want to be a long-hauler.

Someone better pour me another cup of coffee.