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Posts Tagged ‘Starbucks’

Disclaimer: This is not my way of telling the blogworld that I have a seven-year-old son, à la a certain Drew Barrymore movie. Though if I did, he’d likely be the first seven-year-old in the world to have been weaned on 90% chocolate. And his name would not have anything to do with fruit, Inspektors, or Rudyard Kipling characters (I’m looking at you, celebrity parents).

Disclaimer the Second: Actually, I might call him Cornbread. Because cornbread is awesome, and he absolutely would not get teased on the playground. At all.

Corn Vitatop

Everybody's gone in the cotton and the corn / Didn't leave nobody but the baby.

Disclaimer the Third: Someone remind me to post my family’s super-easy-and-delicious Indian Corn Pudding recipe sometime. And could someone else remind me of the meaning of the word disclaimer? I seem to have forgotten.

Car Adventure # 1, Or Brushes with the Law, or Don’t Giggle at Mister Policeman Hannah Really Just Don’t Okay?

I believe I mentioned to you a certain long car trip that involved exhilaration, friendship, and peanut butter. Well, after almost eight hours of driving, at around 1am, with merely twenty minutes to go to our destination… it also involved flashing blue lights and a me caught between sympathy for my friend and the novelty of watching said friend try to weasel out of a speeding ticket.

See, in Australia, when you speed, you get a fine in the mail. The police wait in tinted vans on the side of the road, and many a time you never knew what hit you (so to speak). So for me being pulled over to the side of the road, approached by a cop, and having the chance to avoid a fine through the power of words alone counts as a “cultural experience”.

The Criminal Masterminds. Fear Us.

Luckily for us, our cop was a really nice guy, and L.MiteMaster was able to explain that we’d been driving for a really long time, were close to our destination, and were genuinely unaware of and sorry for going slightly over the speed limit.

And I restrained myself from giggling and asking the policeman if he could maybe put the siren on for a wee second, and maybe glower and swagger just a little bit, because this was such a novelty and wowee it’s like I’m in a movie.

I’m glad I talked myself out of requesting such behaviour, for in the end the policeman reduced the fine. Thank you Mr. Virginia Cop.

Car Adventure # 2, Or Oh My So This is What A Snowstorm is Like, Or A Pictorial Depiction of A Morning of Pure Terror.

Charlottesville

Saturday: the snowstorm begins, and my little Australian head is confused.

Sunday: Pre-attempting to extricate M.HeartsofPalm's car.

Getting this car out from its snow enclosure constituted one of the scariest experiences of my life. You can’t really tell in the photo, but we were parked on a slope, and after half an hour of clearing the snow from atop and beneath the car, the car still slipped backwards every time we tried to drive forwards. It seemed like we would never surmount the snow, no matter how hard we revved. Instead, we looked likely to slip backwards into the car parked behind us. What fun!

In actual fact I was not inside the car at this point, but was standing outside so as to give extricating advice. M.HeartsofPalm asserts, however, that while I apparently started off with a calm face and legitimate advice, by the end I was panic-stricken and shrieking “I don’t know! I don’t know! Don’t crash! Don’t crash!”

I cannot convey how emotional M.HeartsofPalm’s and my shouts were when she made one final, desperate push at the accelerator and the car spurted forwards onto the cleared road.

But I can tell you that the sugary coffees I treated us to afterwards were well-deserved – and were absolutely and utterly decaf.

The calming of the nerves. Hey look! Snow!

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Cinnamon Dolce Soy Lattes may just be the best thing I’ve ever put in my mouth (no off-colour jokes, please. I’m writing from  Starbucks on the corner of 6th and 31st, and for all you know there are children present). I spent a good five minutes trying to decide between this, a Pumpkin Spice Latte, and a Creme Brulee Cappuccino, but this won out. And how it won! I know E.Fashionista will disapprove, but my friend, if you’re reading this, you are missing out.

I’m mildly cranky at myself, for after getting about 8 hours sleep in the 48 hours preceding my arrival in New York, I overslept my alarm and ended up waking at 1:30pm. Thankfully this is (cliché warning) the city that never sleeps, so unlike Australia, I didn’t have to worry about everything closing in four hours. As soon as I saw the time I jumped out of bed – or, to be honest, gingerly climbed down from the top bunk – and ran for the subway station, watching the clock obsessively as it crept closer and closer to 2pm, the cut-off time for cheap Broadway matinee tickets at the TKTS booth in Times Square. Sadly for me, I got there at five past, and only had options for a Christmas Show which the fellow at the desk told my “my grandmother would love” (do you think he’d include my 95-year-old grandma in that?) and a few others. I declined, then felt better after discovering that Mary Poppins does not even have a matinee session on Wednesdays, so even if I had got here on time it wouldn’t have mattered. As much as I’d love to see every show, budgetary restrictions are in force, so on the advice of A.Tapdancer I’m aiming for Mary Poppins. But why, oh why, won’t anyone put on a production of Assassins?

Some men have everything / And some have none, / So rise and shine- / In the U.S.A. / You can work your way / to the head of the line!

(Especially in Starbucks.)

Okay, the man next to me just left, so I can mention that it’s fun travelling alone because you can get involved in conversations with people you meet. Not that he knew I was travelling before we started talking, but obviously if I’d been chatting with someone else he wouldn’t have talked to me. Lovely man from Puerto Rico, wife is Peruvian, showed me a e-card he’d received that lit up with more and more icons and pictures as you clicked it and, most importantly, didn’t tell me about almost dying whilst giving birth.

Though, if he had, I might have been able to get on Oprah as someone who discovered a pregnant man. Oh wait, she’s already done that story.

Oh, yummy Latte, why are you gone already? I think I’m beginning to understand why people order the mega-huge sizes. Wonder when the caffeine will kick in? And what to do now? Walk 20 blocks south to the Union Square Markets, or save that for another day? Oh golly, I do get discombobulated when I don’t have everything planned out. How shall I fit it all in?

Someone next to me just started talking about “a disease that killed them all”, then mentioned that “they all had fuzzy skin”. What on earth? Oh, wait, he just mentioned chestnut trees. And durian. So maybe we’re not looking at the next swine flu with bizarre physical symptoms.

Might stop writing now, as this is probably getting a bit long for those of you of the supposedly-concentration-lacking-facebook-generation.

One last thing – Cream soda tastes like sugar multiplied by about a thousand. Never again. And consider yourselves warned.

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