I love Starbucks.
I do. I know, we've talked about it a lot on this here blog. I love the smell and taste of the coffee, the fact that the baristas know my name, and just the overall experience.
Yesterday, I went to my favorite local drive-through Starbucks. I got an iced Pumpkin Spice latte, and drove home to leisurely sip my drink as I did homework on a fine Sunday afternoon.
Later last night, I was doing the dishes and getting the kitchen cleaned up. There was a bit of latte left in the cup, so I dumped the latte down the sink before throwing the cup in the trash. As I tilted the cup and watched the latte drain out, I heard a "clink."
Hm, strange. All the ice had melted, so I thought this was a bit strange. I looked into my sink and saw...
...a dime.
Yep, someone's dirty, filthy, germ-laden dime was in my latte.
Ewwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww.
It was too late to call Starbucks, so I stopped by tonight after I left the gym. The manager was apologetic and gave me a free drink (dime-free), then had me fill out an Incident Report. She figures that a dime dropped from someone's hand into the ice machine on it's way to the tip jar; apparently the tip jar for the drive-through window is kept near the ice machine. I wondered aloud how many other people had gotten an extra surprise in their drinks.
I really hope someone from the corporate office calls me. After all the germs I drank, I think I deserve more than one free drink. After all, I probably paid for that store.
Monday, September 28, 2009
And the answer is...not ready.
What was the question, you ask? Well, since getting married, several people have wondered aloud when we're going to have kids. I know I want kids, but now that I can have them (I know, I could before, but now that it's "socially acceptable" to have them) I'm terrified to do so. How does someone decide it's the right time? How do you make that decision to try to do what you've spent so many years trying to prevent?
Anyway, I tell everyone I have a dog, and for now that's enough. And truly, he is very much like a child. When we first got him, he woke us up every hour at night to go out and potty (and let me tell you, it's easier to go into a warm bedroom in January to change a kid's diaper than it is to take a small puppy who doesn't like the rain outside to potty). We were so tired and stressed out, we were always on edge.
Yesterday, Bruiser was apparently helping to prepare me for motherhood. How, you ask?
He barfed all day long.
He barfed three times before I even got up yesterday. Then he laid around, lethargic, all morning. Every time he drank some water, it came right back up.
It was truly, thoroughly, disgusting.
Many of you probably think that isn't so bad. Clearly, you don't have my gag reflex. It's bad. So bad that I begged and pleaded with Hubby to clean up each new pile as it appeared on the floor or the carpet, and was informed each time that it'd cost me a foot rub, then an additional foot rub, and so on.
I didn't even care.
People keep telling me it's different when it's your own child. But I don't care. Bodily fluids belong inside your body, and nowhere else.
Ew.
Anyway, I tell everyone I have a dog, and for now that's enough. And truly, he is very much like a child. When we first got him, he woke us up every hour at night to go out and potty (and let me tell you, it's easier to go into a warm bedroom in January to change a kid's diaper than it is to take a small puppy who doesn't like the rain outside to potty). We were so tired and stressed out, we were always on edge.
Yesterday, Bruiser was apparently helping to prepare me for motherhood. How, you ask?
He barfed all day long.
He barfed three times before I even got up yesterday. Then he laid around, lethargic, all morning. Every time he drank some water, it came right back up.
It was truly, thoroughly, disgusting.
Many of you probably think that isn't so bad. Clearly, you don't have my gag reflex. It's bad. So bad that I begged and pleaded with Hubby to clean up each new pile as it appeared on the floor or the carpet, and was informed each time that it'd cost me a foot rub, then an additional foot rub, and so on.
I didn't even care.
People keep telling me it's different when it's your own child. But I don't care. Bodily fluids belong inside your body, and nowhere else.
Ew.
Saturday, September 26, 2009
Today I made...
farmers market, and forgot my produce delivery was coming, too.
Needless to say, my fridge was a little full.
So, today I made a batch of vegetable stock. Here's a picture before I
added the final ingredient, lettuce.
I used just things that were going to go bad if I held onto them, so
this batch contained onion, garlic, sweet potato, bell pepper, tomato,
carrots and mushrooms. Now it's in the freezer to be used later in
some sort of recipe.
Monday, September 21, 2009
Review: Super Wal-Mart in the ghetto
Yesterday was Sunday, which meant it was time for my weekly trip to the grocery store (note: I didn’t go last Sunday, I’m so proud of myself!!). I had only a few things on my list (okay, 10-20 or so), but I didn’t feel like going to Winco, and I’m definitely on a budget this month, so Safeway and Bel-Air were out. Two weeks ago I went to Foods Co., where I’ll never set foot again, so my only option left was to try the new Super Wal-Mart.
When I lived in Midtown, I went to the Super Wal-Mart over the river (and through the woods…); it was only a ten to fifteen minute drive. Now that I’m back in the ‘Burbs, that’s not a feasible option. So, I decided to brave (duh-dunh-dunh…) the Super Wal-Mart in the ghetto.
For those of you who know me, you know what I’m talking about – for those of you who don’t, good, you’re not supposed to know exactly where I live. Anyway, this location used to be a mall. When I was a young, young child, oh-so-long ago, it was the mall we went to, even though the neighborhood was already not so great at that point. As time went on, we just stopped going there, driving another twenty minutes or so to a better (albeit not fantastic) mall in a busier part of town.
A few years ago (or has it been that long? I don’t think so) the scary-ghetto mall closed, and plans were announced to open a Super Wal-Mart on the site. There was (is?) a regular Wal-Mart just down the street from the proposed new location, and it went from new to crap in a matter of a few years, if not months. So, although a Super Wal-Mart would be cool, I had my doubts about the success of the project.
Fast forward to a month or so ago. I drove down the main road in front of the old mall, and couldn’t believe my eyes. The mall was gone, the Super Wal-Mart was up, and there were a TON of little shops in the shopping center (along with a vacant anchor store that was supposed to have been Mervyns…oops). It looked new, nice, and I was semi-impressed.
Fast forward even more to yesterday. As I drove into the shopping center, I was initially impressed by how many stores had opened here. There was everything from nail salons to cell phone stores, from a custom-frame store to, dare I say it, a drive through Starbucks! I motored back to the Super Wal-Mart and immediately found parking, a mere four spots from the front. Hm, good parking karma? I wondered what awaited me inside.
I made my way inside, and the store was…clean. And not jam-packed. I expected it to be a zoo, as it was Sunday afternoon and church had let out. There were a ton of cars in the parking lot outside, yet the store felt comfortable inside; I wasn’t crowded in any aisle (well, except one, where a mean-ass looking chick and her four million kids almost rammed my cart to reach over me and grab something off a shelf…but then again I was in the ghetto, so I was expecting something like that to happen), and when I went to check-out…NO LINE! Sure, a couple of check stands had one or two people in line, but I walked right up to my friendly checker and began unpacking my cart (my only complaint about my friendly checker was that she appeared not used to packing groceries in canvas bags…she actually sucked at it, but was very nice about it!).
Oh and the best part? There was a Golden 1 branch inside – an actual BRANCH! And, it was open at 3:51 p.m. on a Sunday. What? A bank open on a Sunday? That’s right, I said open on a Sunday. Amazing.
Overall, I was surprised and impressed by the shopping center. I will still NEVER go there at night, alone or with a fleet of armed guards in tanks, and I am a little wary of going there alone during daylight hours. However, that aside, I say take a buddy and travel to the Super Wal-Mart in the ghetto! Once you get inside, it’s not a bad way to spend a Sunday afternoon (but don’t blare country music from your car on the way there…you never know what could happen).
When I lived in Midtown, I went to the Super Wal-Mart over the river (and through the woods…); it was only a ten to fifteen minute drive. Now that I’m back in the ‘Burbs, that’s not a feasible option. So, I decided to brave (duh-dunh-dunh…) the Super Wal-Mart in the ghetto.
For those of you who know me, you know what I’m talking about – for those of you who don’t, good, you’re not supposed to know exactly where I live. Anyway, this location used to be a mall. When I was a young, young child, oh-so-long ago, it was the mall we went to, even though the neighborhood was already not so great at that point. As time went on, we just stopped going there, driving another twenty minutes or so to a better (albeit not fantastic) mall in a busier part of town.
A few years ago (or has it been that long? I don’t think so) the scary-ghetto mall closed, and plans were announced to open a Super Wal-Mart on the site. There was (is?) a regular Wal-Mart just down the street from the proposed new location, and it went from new to crap in a matter of a few years, if not months. So, although a Super Wal-Mart would be cool, I had my doubts about the success of the project.
Fast forward to a month or so ago. I drove down the main road in front of the old mall, and couldn’t believe my eyes. The mall was gone, the Super Wal-Mart was up, and there were a TON of little shops in the shopping center (along with a vacant anchor store that was supposed to have been Mervyns…oops). It looked new, nice, and I was semi-impressed.
Fast forward even more to yesterday. As I drove into the shopping center, I was initially impressed by how many stores had opened here. There was everything from nail salons to cell phone stores, from a custom-frame store to, dare I say it, a drive through Starbucks! I motored back to the Super Wal-Mart and immediately found parking, a mere four spots from the front. Hm, good parking karma? I wondered what awaited me inside.
I made my way inside, and the store was…clean. And not jam-packed. I expected it to be a zoo, as it was Sunday afternoon and church had let out. There were a ton of cars in the parking lot outside, yet the store felt comfortable inside; I wasn’t crowded in any aisle (well, except one, where a mean-ass looking chick and her four million kids almost rammed my cart to reach over me and grab something off a shelf…but then again I was in the ghetto, so I was expecting something like that to happen), and when I went to check-out…NO LINE! Sure, a couple of check stands had one or two people in line, but I walked right up to my friendly checker and began unpacking my cart (my only complaint about my friendly checker was that she appeared not used to packing groceries in canvas bags…she actually sucked at it, but was very nice about it!).
Oh and the best part? There was a Golden 1 branch inside – an actual BRANCH! And, it was open at 3:51 p.m. on a Sunday. What? A bank open on a Sunday? That’s right, I said open on a Sunday. Amazing.
Overall, I was surprised and impressed by the shopping center. I will still NEVER go there at night, alone or with a fleet of armed guards in tanks, and I am a little wary of going there alone during daylight hours. However, that aside, I say take a buddy and travel to the Super Wal-Mart in the ghetto! Once you get inside, it’s not a bad way to spend a Sunday afternoon (but don’t blare country music from your car on the way there…you never know what could happen).
Oh My
7:28 a.m. on a Monday, and already three people have asked me if I'm okay and/or if something is wrong. And I'm wearing makeup today! I think it's a sign that I in fact should have stayed home.
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Just one more neurotic thing about me
So, I always knew that I was kind of a nerd. I don’t mean in general (although perhaps I am), but specifically, for today’s topic, I’m talking about my car.
You see, when I was younger, my dad had this thing about “not putting miles on the car.” I never understood that – it’s a car, it’s supposed to have miles on it, right? I mean, you drive a car, you don’t let it sit in your driveway while you take the bus.
Apparently, I have morphed into my dad over the years. I knew that I get very nervous putting more miles on my car; I do after all keep track of my miles, like many of you probably do. However, I don’t keep track of miles per tank to see how many miles per gallon I get. Nope, I did that in the beginning, but my car is old enough now I know how many miles it gets. No, I keep track of how many miles I drive each month, and then I compare those miles to the month before.
Like this month, I only drive 1080 miles. That’s a lot, yes, but last month it was 1572. A few months ago, before I moved back out to suburbia, I put MAYBE 500-600 miles per month on my car. Ah, those were the days.
Anyway, I know that I’m getting a little anal about mileage. My car is getting older (8 years at the end of this month!), and I worry about things breaking now that it’s getting up there.
I guess I didn’t realize just how anal I was getting about mileage. You see, last week my car turned over to 100,000 miles. A historic event, so I took a picture of the mileage with my phone (after all, it’ll never hit 100,000 miles again, right?). See the picture:
Well, I was scrolling through the other pictures on my phone, and I found this one. I guess maybe I was worried I’d miss 100,000?
Then of course, I scrolled back a little further and found this one. I don’t even remember taking this.
I think I’m getting a little out of control. I won’t tell you just how many pictures I took at 100,000 miles to get “just the right angle” where the sun wasn’t hitting it.
You see, when I was younger, my dad had this thing about “not putting miles on the car.” I never understood that – it’s a car, it’s supposed to have miles on it, right? I mean, you drive a car, you don’t let it sit in your driveway while you take the bus.
Apparently, I have morphed into my dad over the years. I knew that I get very nervous putting more miles on my car; I do after all keep track of my miles, like many of you probably do. However, I don’t keep track of miles per tank to see how many miles per gallon I get. Nope, I did that in the beginning, but my car is old enough now I know how many miles it gets. No, I keep track of how many miles I drive each month, and then I compare those miles to the month before.
Like this month, I only drive 1080 miles. That’s a lot, yes, but last month it was 1572. A few months ago, before I moved back out to suburbia, I put MAYBE 500-600 miles per month on my car. Ah, those were the days.
Anyway, I know that I’m getting a little anal about mileage. My car is getting older (8 years at the end of this month!), and I worry about things breaking now that it’s getting up there.
I guess I didn’t realize just how anal I was getting about mileage. You see, last week my car turned over to 100,000 miles. A historic event, so I took a picture of the mileage with my phone (after all, it’ll never hit 100,000 miles again, right?). See the picture:
Well, I was scrolling through the other pictures on my phone, and I found this one. I guess maybe I was worried I’d miss 100,000?
Then of course, I scrolled back a little further and found this one. I don’t even remember taking this.
I think I’m getting a little out of control. I won’t tell you just how many pictures I took at 100,000 miles to get “just the right angle” where the sun wasn’t hitting it.
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