a tired snob

I had interesting things to say related to podcasts and contrasting themes, but my contacts are like little cinderblocks in my eyeballs, and I have to get up early again tomorrow morning. So the cohesive thoughts will have to wait. In the meantime, here's today's exercise about part of my morning routine:

the pacing cat shrieks
as the brewing coffee steams*
never enough time

*V60, not a drip machine, and yes, I'm snobby enough to specify

picture: waiting for brunch outside Cafe Broder in Portland, OR, October, 2011, cross-processed film, Canon tlb

past my prime

Not much time left for this today because we went over our tv allowance watching the rest of "St. Vincent" with Bill Murray, Melissa McCarthy, and Naomi Watts. A predictable but highly amusing movie about a detestable train wreck of a man who is revealed to be a lovable (and detestable) train wreck of a man whose loan shark money problems magically go away (not a spoiler). At any rate, it's past prime writing hour, and I'm trying really hard to get the proper amount of sleep while my tailbone continues to heal. Sleep is a goal all the time, but when there's actually something wrong with my body, it becomes a bit easier to say No for the sake of self care. So here's the short version of my breakfast this morning, which charrow and I refer to as "breakfastcoffee" (said in a rushed one word fashion).

warm black coffee to
my right, a book in my lap
pew! pew! goes the bird

A bird outside our window sounded like the caricature of a laser gun. The birds were very active this morning! I remember thinking at the beginning of last spring how amazing it was to hear birds again after the misery of last winter, but I've noticed them almost every day this winter. This makes me wonder if I was in too deep of a stress fugue last year (final semester of graduate school) to hear them.

picture: AZ the coffee drinking wonder dog (sadly he has since passed away), Bluemont, VA, January 2009, digital 

a matter of taste

According to my doctor, whom I can no longer see because our insurance company went out of business and she doesn't take our new insurance (not bitter), I should only drink decaf coffee or preferably none at all. There's some reflux/swallowing situation and a persnickety stomach that she thinks would be better served without the extra acidity and irritation of caffeine. I refused to comply for awhile on the basis that I barely drink coffee compared to most people - 8 oz a day with breakfast. Then I tried half-caff with little noticeable improvement. So I finally gave up and went full decaf during the week and had "real" coffee on the weekends because I just can't bring myself to drink decaf all the time. It's not about the caffeine. I noticed no difference in functioning or energy level, and I get irritated when people whine about how they need caffeine when what they really need is sleep and water (Self-righteous, party of one). If they made decaf that tasted the way the other coffee we drink tastes, I would happily switch over. The problem is I LOVE the coffee we drink. My partner has worked in specialty coffee (think non-starbucks/smaller companies with high quality beans roasted at a medium profile and respectable sourcing ethics) for over ten years. I worked in a specialty shop for about 3.5 years. I have developed a serious weakness for fancy coffee (and a disdain for people who drink corner store motor fuel just to get their fix, sorry to any fiending readers willing to drink anything). Coffee is also a part of my morning trifecta of happiness, which involves a breakfast that I've been obsessed with for about 5 years (the exact same breakfast every day, if at all humanly possibly) and reading a book while I eat.

When I went on my summer music pilgrimage, I switched to regular coffee for the purposes of sharing the excess from my french press (just try sharing decaf and see how many scornful looks and wrinkled noses come your way). I planned on sharing for two reasons: I knew from experience that people were going to scoff at my coffee-making paraphernalia (hand grinder, scale) so sharing was a way to reduce the mockery, and it was a damn good excuse to not drink decaf. Ever since the trip, I've had difficulty making the switch back to my ascetic decaf ways, which causes guilt and reflux. I worry that I'm causing permanent damage or somehow creating the conditions for the dreaded C word by damaging tissues or whatever. This is the problem with health-related decisions. They all involve what are called "intertemporal choices," which is when the choice you make now will affect the possibilities available later. Put another way, it's the choice between the cost/benefit of something now vs. the cost/benefit of something in the future. Like going to bed. The perceived cost of turning off that movie now outweighs the future benefit of feeling rested in the morning. Or drinking less alcohol. The perceived benefit of having that last beer vs the future cost of being more hung over. Or the perceived cost of drinking decaf vs. the benefit of better digestive health. Blah blah blah. Basically I'm feeling whiny and guilty and irritated that I have a sensitive body when other people treat theirs like complete shit and don't appear to suffer any consequences. Moving on to our short form for the day:

measured and consumed
with care, I can't give up the
highlight of my day

picture: the window of a coffeeshop whose name I can't remember, NYC, August 2011, film, Canon Tlb 

collectively amazing

Ways I would not like to spend my evenings: smoking lucky strikes, eating a banana and drinking corner store coffee (or who knows what) out of a styrofoam cup.

The morning of our first full day in Copenhagen, we were met with this sight as we left the hostel to go on a coffee expedition. It was simultaneously nauseating* and captivating (hence the need to record it).

We left this lovely scene and went to the Coffee Collective, which is an incredible shop in the Norrebro neighborhood that just happened to be within walking distance of our hostel. The baristas were friendly and made great coffee (I think we had at least 3 drinks a piece every time we went there). We lurked for so long that I'm sure we overstayed our welcome (sorry Annastina! and also sorry if I spelled/got your name wrong). It was hard to force ourselves to visit other shops in the city because we knew just how good the coffee would be at the Coffee Collective.

Eventually I will blather about non-coffee related vacation activities. I promise.

*sorry, smoker friends. I can't and don't usually hide it. I hate cigarette smoke, but I have reasons.

third time's the charm

I have yet to discuss any of our trip to Europe last fall. I took copious notes in a little black book provided by the wonderful Ester, and I took tons of pictures, but I never figured out a good (and not overwhelming) way to share the experience beyond posting pictures to flickr. I still don't have a concrete idea of what I want to do, so I'm just going to periodically post a picture and a short description because something is better than nothing.

Today's picture was taken at Cafe CK in Berlin. It was a beautiful morning and we rode across the city* to the coffee shop to have breakfast and amazing coffee before heading off to do yet another Fat Tire Bike Tour. We went to Cafe CK 3 mornings in a row because the baristas and the owner were so nice and the coffee was some of the best we had during that leg of the trip.

Two other great shops to try if you ever find yourself in Berlin: The Barn (tasty food, exceptional coffee and Ralf, the owner, is beyond friendly) and Bonanza Coffee Heroes (I'm guessing they just go by Bonanza).

*note to self: do not stay in West Berlin when most of your planned activities are in East Berlin. It's a sprawling city (especially compared to New York) and while public transportation is great, we were attempting to rely on bikes with tires the width of a basset hound, which was not a pleasant experience. We finally gave up and turned our bikes in for the comfort of the train.

growing stains

I find cryptic "exciting or strange things are afoot, but I can't reveal them right now!" updates to be exasperating, so I'm just going to lay it all out there with some points of necessary obscurity.

Large Event Number One: I am now employed by a Very Successful Coffee shop that also employs Charrow*. The job is fast-paced (although I'm told it's usually even faster-paced), engaging, educational, and menial all in one brown-stained package. It feels good to be out in the world, interacting with people and getting my hands dirty (but washing them before helping another customer, of course).

Large Event Number Two: I'm painting for one of the owners of said coffee establishment. It's a huge job that involves kitchen cabinets, high ceilings, and more trim that I can fit into a week's worth of nightmares, but it will look good in the end. If I ever get to the end of it.

Large Event Number Three: is waiting in the wings for now. I've put my website development and dog training business on temporary hiatus. Events number one and two are consuming most of my physical energy, leaving me with fumes to scrape together a functional household, a regular exercise routine, and maybe, just maybe enough mental energy to revive this here blog. I know there is no perfect time to start a business (or have a baby, so I'm told) but I need to get into a working routine and finish the painting job before I jump headfirst into the world of dogs and self-promotion. There may be some behind the scenes brainstorming when the brain has enough juice to storm, but the major creative activities will happen down the road a bit.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go find a way to get this primer off of my elbows before I head to the coffee slinging.

*yes, we work in the same shop, and no it's not weird or causing any problems. It's actually pretty fun. I get to hang out with someone I really like while giving people coffee that they really like and there are jars filled with money at the end of the day!

wintry mistress

Is it possible to fall in love with chicago in the dead of winter? Maybe it was all of the legal stimulants I consumed. Maybe it was the good company. Or maybe it's just an awesome city with an unfortunate climate.