Sorry I’ve been MIA, just enjoying my time off, not doing schoolwork or obsessing over a race. I did get an iPhone so maybe I’ll start blogging more, who knows (ha, yeah right). I’m heading off to Florida for the super long weekend the office is forcing down my throat, where I plan to make myself tropical cocktails and buy a travel grill so that I can make grilled meats and drink my tropical frozen cocktails while grandma enjoys my ever-so-sloshy company. The Golden Girls may be involved, as will running at the old peoples’ state-of-the-art gym that is ALWAYS empty, as well as lounging by the pool so that the old dudes have some eye candy to stare at for the first time in years. Okay, yes, I have had a few drinks with dinner tonight. What are you trying to say?! I’m not an alcoholic. Stop judging me. Hey check out this picture of a cat!

Immediately after I returned from my vacation I had to attend a conference and present a paper I helped write. I also attended other sessions since I was paying an arm and a leg for this conference and figured I might as well get my money’s worth. I signed up for three at 7am over the course of three days, which worked out because I was fresh back from Europe and fully within the jetlag phase that had me asleep by 9am and up by 5am.

I hadn’t had a single chance to visit a grocery store in this period so I ran on little-to-zero breakfast and coffee every morning but the final morning, when the jetlag had finally started wearing off and damn 5am sure was early. I stopped at Starbucks to get a coffee.

It had just opened but its proximity to the conference and other office buildings meant there was a long line. Thankfully these were professionals and it moved quickly, maybe too quickly for someone like me who couldn’t decide what to get. I only ever really get one or two things when I do go to Starbucks but today I wanted something really strong and figured I’d finally settle for one of those “double shot” drinks that I hear all the kids talking about these days. But I still wanted a lot of drink. So when my turn came up I asked for a “double shot grande latte.”

And, of course, I received a confused stare and an explanation that the grandes already come with two shots. The woman behind me helpfully perks up “You gotta know the lingo!” I settle for the regular-number-of-shots-grande and move off to the side.

But that, for me, was the absolute last fucking straw. Lingo. LINGO!? VENTI IS A MADE UP WORD BITCH. Don’t insinuate that I need to memorize the Starbucks menu in order to have some sort of rich coffee experience. I go there for conveniently overpriced swill, something that, in recent years, is only slightly better than what I can get from 7-11 at a 300% mark-up. Starbucks is not a special club with a secret “language”, it’s a cleverly marketed conglomerate that happens to sell coffee with exotic sounding names that are mixed with steamed milk. And don’t get me wrong, I have a secret love for conglomerates (Apple cough H&M cough cough Target) and maybe have ordered off the “secret” menu at In-N-Out once or twice. The difference here is that Starbucks doesn’t give me anything that I can’t already get just as good if not better elsewhere without the attitude and the homeless people doing drugs in the bathroom.

That’s it, Starbucks. You and I are officially through.

[cue sound of Boy dropping whatever is in his hands and screaming "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO"]

Postscript: I actually despise Caribou Coffee just as much. I hate both of them for the same reason: syrups. Syrups are the scourge of humanity and tastebuds. Syrups are the american cheese singles of coffee condiments: plastic-tasting additives with little nutritional content. I firmly believe that syrups were added to the Starbucks/Caribou Coffee line-up to coincide with the lowering of their coffee quality. I mean if the coffee tasted any good, why would you need it? Disgusting liquid substances. Bah.

Okay, I’ll admit it: I’m not really prepared to be fired for my blog. Wussy, I know. Switching to this domain was, of course, a step in the WRONG DIRECTION in terms of anonymity. The problem is that anonymous doesn’t ever really work. It was time to embrace *me* and not some ridiculous alter ego doinky handle. Plus, come on, that’s a great domain name. I’m okay with people knowing I write this, including coworkers. What I do in my free time is what I do, right? Am I right?

So it comes down to this: I have nothing to do with this blog during work. I don’t write out draft posts, don’t check for comments, don’t even enter in the domain name. I know it’s a silly silly way to approach this, but basically so long as I’m not blogging at work, I figure there isn’t much the company can do. And if their problem is with the very existence of this online journal, then I’m not sure I’d want to work there anyway. For this generation, being fired for one’s blog is akin to being fired for growing tomatoes. Unless you’re spending office hours growing the tomatoes, possibly in your filing cabinets. Or you’re growing tomatoes with inflammatory messages about your boss. That’d also be a no-no.

This is basically a roundabout way of saying that this is why I hardly ever post anymore. But I want to!! I miss writing. It keeps my head fresh and my spelling relatively below the level of ‘atrocious’.

The good news is that 160 spam comments later, I finally took some steps to ensure that schmucks out there aren’t leaving comments unrelated to my stunning beauty and magical aura. Woohoo, doing useful things!!