The Story of the Starbucks Gift Card

During the holidays I won a $5 Starbucks gift card from Tippy Toes and Tantrums as part of the Yahoo! Kindness Project, or Yahoo! For Good. (Check out all the awesome things she did here.) Anyway, I received the card and tucked it away in my wallet for safekeeping. My original plan was to leave it in the mailbox for our mailman since we'd been experiencing some pretty crappy weather and I thought the prospect of a warm latte might brighten his spirits. Of course, given The Mommy Brain, I completely forgot about it and ended up buying him a Target gift card to go along with our baked goods for his holiday gift.

Then, when I went to New York to see MARTHA, I intended to leave it behind in my friend's husband's car since he was so kind as to pick me up from the subway late at night to bring me back to their place to crash since my friend was (is) very preggars and too sick to drive to get me. He is also a coffee addict. I think we were so busy talking about the baby, parking in NY and their crazy life as medical residents that I came and went without leaving the giftcard behind. Sigh.

Fast forward to yesterday when my friend and I ran across the street from our Junior League meeting to grab a hot drink amidst the latest snowstorm. I was gonna whip out my card and treat her to a cup of coffee, when she beat me to it and whipped out a gift card of her own and paid with it.

I thought to myself: "I'm never gonna treat someone with this doggone card!"

And so, on my way home from the meeting, Hubby called to tell me that my sister was stranded in the Target parking lot because her car wouldn't start. I headed up that way to see what I could do. [As an aside, I asked him: "What am I gonna do to help her?" and he said "Go into Target and buy jumper cables." To which I replied: "And then what???"] I arrived and we strategized about our next move. To our delight we saw a snow removal truck in the parking lot. My sister jumped out and asked him if he could give her a jump. The guy was so kind as to oblige. After we got her VW Bug up and running, he was about to get back into his truck. I screamed "WAIT!" and ran to my car and dug out the Starbucks gift card and ran back to give it to him in thanks. He was quite happy and honked as he plowed off.

At last! I was able to put the card to good use. I suppose the card was waiting for the right person for me to give it to.

The End.

Caught In The Act

Remember this post about my mom being my relentless coffee pusher? If you didn't read it, it's about my mom's addiction love for coffee and love in getting those around her to love it just as much, including myself. A few weeks ago, my mom went to visit my brother and his wife and my S-I-L snapped this photo of my mom getting ready to enjoy her cafecito. The picture captures the moment perfectly.

Of course, my mom swears that the only reason her eyes were closed was because she was "blinking." Sure, Mom. Remember, the first step is admitting you have a problem.

If my schedule permitted...

I overbooked my weekend so much that I now need a day off and I don't see one in sight for at least the next three weeks. Should I schedule a day off from life, call in sick at my job, or just close my office door for a quick siesta. I'm just so exhausted this morning that 2 large cups of coffee isn't doing the trick today. Somebody, please send me some energy because I don't think I can make it. If only my schedule permitted some time for rest I would be good!

My Pusher is Relentless

Remember this post, where I told you all how my mom got me hooked on coffee?? Well she's coming to visit with my dad this weekend and she already sent me an email to make sure I was stocked up on supplies.

This woman is relentless!!

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To: J. Jonesie

From: Mama
Subject: Hola Familia....

Hola familia,we're looking forward to see you guys in a couple more days. If by any chance you go to publix, please get some packs of your favorito drink(bustelo cafe). We're running out of it,capish? See you soon!!!!

==========

Now, why does she need me to buy her "some packs" of the coffee you ask? Because they don't sell Bustelo where she lives. So as I mentioned before, she travels with my dad all over the place sampling, buying, and looking for her favorite cafe.

Capiche?

Back on the Juice - Updated

I'm back on the juice again. I can't help it. For almost three years I was free of it. I didn't need it, I didn't want it, no longer even craved it. I never felt better. I had so much energy, it was great, liberating. I would wake up, and be fine. Feel awesome.

Then one day I took a little taste.

Mmmm, it tasted so good. It felt so good going into my body, running through my veins. I felt warm all over. From there, it was the occasional taste, not everyday, but just whenever there was some around me. Of course, I would never buy it for myself. We would only have some in the house because Hubby would occasionally buy it. He mostly got his fix when he was at work.

Then my mom was in town for one of her visits. It's tough when she's here. This is when I have to be my strongest. She's the pusher, pushing it in your face as soon as you wake up in the morning. "Here, have some. Nice and frrrrrrresh!" Rolling her "Rs" extra long, just for added emphasis.

That's right, she's Mexican. They basically grow that stuff in their backyards, or should I say, "courtyards" in Mexico.

Now you see my problem? It's in my blood. It's part of who I am.

Now this part is the worst part.

Brace yourselves.

My mom introduced it to me when I was five years old. FIVE. YEARS. OLD! Every day she would give me some. EVERYDAY.

What kind of mother does that??!!!

No wonder my growth was stunted. NO. WONDER. It's her fault I have to hem my pants or buy my clothes in petite.

HER FAULT.

She buys her supply by the cases. She travels with my dad to these "medical conferences" and she triesthe local stuff.

HER: "Here, want some? Your Dad and I bought a case of it when we were in Louisiana for his medical conferrrence. It's soooo gooood."

Me: "No thanks, Mom, you know I don't use that stuff anymore. I don't need it, never felt better! (Lying)

HER: "Just try it, it's good!

Me: "No. Thanks!! I'm good.

I realized today though, that I have a problem. My S-I-L called me this morning and she was asking me all kinds of questions about our plans to meet up this Saturday and a trip to visit her and my brother in May.
Who's coming? What time? Where should we meet?

I hadn't had my morning hit yet and all her questions had me nervous. Couldn't remember my dates correctly. Couldn't even recommend a place for us to eat dinner.

It was sad, pathetic. Is this what I've become? An addict?

Am I to the point where I need it to even make sense of my thoughts??

Yes. I am. I need that cup of coffee. I need a strong cup. I need it to think, I need it to function. I need it to feel good.

People, help me.

PS: Don't forget our CUTE giveaway below!!

UPDATE: If you read this post earlier and it was full of typos, my apologies. That's what happens when you try to write a post without having your morning cup! I thought I spell checked it and to my horror, I didn't. YIKES! My mom also wanted to let everyone know that she didn't let me drink a full cup of "cafe" when I was five, only a "few sips." I guess the full cups started when I was six. *rolls eyes*

The Short Cup at Starbucks

I learned about the Short cup at Starbucks about a year ago and I'm still surprised at how few people know about it. So today, I'm spreading the word. Power to the people!!!

The Short cup is the secret cup at Starbucks that's shorter, and cheaper, than the Tall cup. When I first heard it I didn't believe it. How many times have I gone to Starbucks and asked for a "small" only to be told, "Tall?". Plenty of times. Unless you ask for it, they won't give it to you. And when you do ask for it, they whip the cup out of a secret cabinet or from behind the counter where it can't be seen. But it exists, and they won't advertise it. I only need a little coffee to get my battery charged up in the mornings. So if your like me, go Short!

Spread the word.

Gimme a Tall, Caramel, Nonfat, Whipped Cream, Xtra Hot, Caramel Macchiato. With a Shot of Rudeness, Please.

So I'm not a coffee drinker. [GASP!] But I do like to have a Starbucks latte every now and then because, well, they're yummy. Although as far as I'm concerned, Starbucks is just a place with a bunch of different hot chocolate flavors. I don't go there often enough to be one of those caffeine-junkie afficionados who have the menu memorized and are fluent in Starbucks. But I do go enough to know something about ordering a dang cup of coffee. I mean I do have a professional degree and all. So why is it that each time I venture inside one of them I leave feeling like my womanhood has just be stripped away from me??

First I get the "hurry up and order you pathetic coffee ignoramus, you" look as I approach the counter. I guess because the regulars come in barking their usual order as soon as they step foot in the door. I, however, like to peruse the menu and see what's new. Maybe I want to try the special of the day. Or maybe I want to see all the different kinds of syrups they have so that I can try something new today. Or maybe I feel like having a [GASP!] tea. But, no. I always end up ordering the same thing because I feel pressure to hurry up and order lest I come across as a member of the shunned non-coffee drinker caste.

Then, come the "eye rolls" when I order my latte "skim...with whip." WHAT.IS.THE.PROBLEM? I get the skim so I can have the whip! Duh. And yet the barrista can't help but make me repeat my order and have a pained look on her face like I just broke a sacred Caffeine Code or something. Oh, and did I mention that I order it decaf? That really sends them over the edge.

But this last time, on Saturday when I was freed from my shackles had a moment to myself to leave the house and get my hair done (woo hoo!), I decided that I felt like a latte. And so I made my way to the counter -- slowly, so that I could have my order ready by the time I reached the register -- and my eye caught the special of the day: "Dulce de Leche" Perfect! And, just to make it extra sweet, I decided that I would drum up the courage to ask for caramel syrup too. Well. If it were only that easy. Silly me. I asked for a "Shot of Caramel" which elicited a look of sheer disgust from the stringy-haired college kid serving me. She said "Do you mean a shot? Or do you mean syrup?" Dammit, I don't know! Just get the caramel flavor into my cup. WHY is this so difficult?? I shamefully mumbled "Syrup. Yeah, the syrup." Once my order was up I grabbed it and high-tailed it out of the cafe with my head hanging low. I just knew the entire place was rolling on the floor in peals of laughter at the dumb-girl-whose-hair-was-a-mess-and-didn't-even-know-a-shot-from-a-syrup.

That's IT. I refuse to subject myself to this humiliation ever again.

Until they come out with a banana or coconut latte, that is. Best believe I am studying up for that day. And when it comes, I'll be back. And I'll be ready. Y'all just better watch out.

[And for laughs, you've got to read this post by a disgruntled Starbucks barrista. It's priceless. And it shows that it's not all in my mind. Warning: includes profanity]