Thursday, September 4, 2008

"I like my caffeine cold and sweet."

The pond doctor is referring to ye olde Coca Cola, made with real honest-to-goodness high fructose corn syrup and the blood of innocent Colombiano unionizers.

I refer to a double shot of espresso on ice, with a tear drop of half and half to watch entropy in action. I think my espresso may involve some sweat and tears, but with luck (especially at SOMA) it's organic and equal exchange and maybe that makes it okay. Guilt trips for a few moments about the carbon footprint of importing coffee from another continent...

Attempts continue to accomplish everything essential before departure. I've gotten a little orderly about this; and certainly had my mother and father's great example. I'm currently wangling over this tedious PIN-# issue with the bank -- forget 3 times in a row, and they *freeze* your account! Gee,whiz,thanx.

I hope there are baristas in St. Louis who pull shots as good as those at SOMA and City Bakery. If not, there will be many tears. Or at least, many creative attempts with the counter-top model I have received as a "cleaning out my basement and oh, would you like this?" present.

I wish my cat and I could sit in an interstitial interpsacial time/space hole for the day to snuggle and write and drink tea. Regrettably, we both must gird our loins for the inevitable box schlepping and packing to begin tomorrow. :: laces on gauntlets ::

Come night! Come boxes! Phaeton's fiery chariot cannot scare me away! Although the remnants of Hurricane Gustav drooling through the Midwest will certain dampen my spirits, books, and boxes...

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