GO TEAM

  In all the adventures that I have embarked on, three weeks ago I set out for one of my craziest ones yet: College.
  What is this that people pay thousands of dollars to live in tiny dorms and eat cafeteria food? Madness, total madness.
  As I was packing this summer my dad informed me that I was bringing too many coffee supplies.     "You do not need three coffee makers in college," he pleaded. I tried to explain that I use the carafe for large quantities; pour over for a quick, smoother cup; and french press for espresso. He just shook his head and walked away.
  As a compromise I left the french press.
  The reason for my intense preparation was mostly because I figured that college coffee would be Zombie Pee* coffee, so I wanted to always be able to make my own.  However, upon arriving I found that not only does the cafeteria brew their own coffee every day, there is also a school coffee shop in the building neighboring mine. Still, I tried not to get my hopes up. If they brew their own in bulk then it would most likely be the "F word" coffee.**
  I waited about two days before I ventured over to the coffee station. Apprehensively, I pulled the lever.
  The substance that came out seemed non-toxic. That's a good start.
  Snifffffff.
  It smelled like non-profane coffee. Also good.
  I took a sip.
  Well, I may be paying thousands of dollars to learn about puritans and adjectives; but the coffee is good. That's right, I said good. It's better than fine, it's worse than amazing. But good enough that I don't dread eating in the cafeteria.
  So to all you prospective college students: find a college that has good coffee.
  And to all you current college students: if your college has coffee that is better than good let me know so I can drop everything and come join.

  On an almost totally different note, I realized something very strange about myself this week. A lot of time in movies or TV shows, characters will be in their home talking with friends or family and someone will pour a mug of coffee while they are conversing. Whenever that happens, I unconsciously smile. I know, I know it's weird. But I find great pleasure in watching people drink coffee. In real life and on screen.
  Fandoms will come and go. There will always be wars between Team Edward and Team Jacob, Team Gale and Team Peeta, Team Star wars and Team Star Trek, Team Hobbit-is-better and team Are-you-freaking-kiddong-LOTR-is-so-much-better, Team Marvel and Team DC, Team Elmo and Team Barney, Team Disney and Team Nick.
  I personally will always be Team Coffee.






*Places that need a lot of coffee and don't want to worry about having to brew it often get machines that "makes" it for you. You put a bag of coffee concentrate in the machine and it mixes the concentrate with hot water when you push the button. I call this abomination Zombie Pee because zombies typically have gray crackly skin and eat brains, right? So what color do you think their pee is? That's right. And what does it taste like? My guess is coffee concentrate and hot water. 

**For new readers, the "F Word" coffee is Folgers... please excuse my potty mouth...

Superior Taste

  I really need to stop with the puns. I wish I could blame my gosh darned boyfriend or annoyingly corny father but I really only have myself to blame. I've fallen into the trap of a well-placed pun. I hate them still, but I've fallen none the less.
  A few months ago I randomly took a trip to Minnesota. I think it was a first for me actually, which is exciting because I've been to almost every state. Finding a state I've yet to experience is a big deal for me. A similarly big deal is when I drink coffee in a new state.
  The nice people I was staying with wanted to show my best friend and I Lake Superior. So off we went on an uneventful hour long ride to Minnesota. My one stipulation for the day was that if I am going to a new state, I must drink coffee.
  Upon arriving the city(I actually have no idea what city it was...minor details) my best friend I agreed that it looked like something right out of a dysutopian novel. After driving through the city we stopped at a tower of sorts. It was a historical tower, dedicated to some Count a hundred years ago or something. Very simple and pointless. Four flights of stairs, every level looking exactly the same. No rooms, barred windows, truly I don't why it was there only that it honored a titled foreigner. That I couldn't understand it made it all the more intriguing to me.
  This is a picture of the view from the top, which brings me to my next point of interest. Above is Lake Superior. In late May.
  "Why is Lake Superior white?" you might ask. Good question. We were asking the same thing on that sunny day.
  The Answer: Ice.
  We were so fascinated that we had to get a closer look.
  It was beautiful.
  There were chunks of ice as big as a car and who knows how deep. The wind blew over the them making the air chilly. Not too far out were ships that looked to me right out of the 1800's. Perhaps they were. Perhaps they sat out there as another tribute to the Mysterious Count.

    Before you reach the water there was a little park area with quirky places to get treats. My personal favorite was the mini ship that sold mini donuts. Delicious mini donuts. That was another first for me- eating donuts from a ship that is on land.

  And then there was the lighthouse. Honestly, what would a trip like this be without a lighthouse?

I hope you are wondering about now about the coffee. If you aren't then shame on you. Count Mysterious would be disappointed. Okay...Probably not. But aren't you at least a little bit curious if I got to drink coffee in a new state? I mean, it's a big deal for me. 

Fine. I'll just tell you. 

  Meet the Red Mug Coffeehouse. If ever there was a time to use the word "hipster" it would be in describing this place. From the weird and slightly disturbing artwork to the mismatchy furniture to the heavily bearded baristas. It was in a basement for crying out loud, how much more indie can you get? 

  I loved it. 

 So there you go. My first cup of coffee in Minnesota...I thought. 

 As I excitedly told the nice coffee man that I've never had coffee in Minnesota before he graciously informed me that we had just barely crossed the border back into Wisconsin.

  Dang it. 

A Person

I don't really know how self portraits work or if there are certain requirements that you have to uphold to make something a true self portrait. My general understanding is that it has to be something of you. Something that you created or thought up about yourself.
If someone were to ask me, "Are you a vain person?" I would want to give a modest and well thought out answer. Something that would make people think that I am a beautiful and confident woman who takes no notice if I am a beautiful and confident women.
But that would not be true. I care about my thin hair and squinty eyes and small stature. I look in the mirror more than I would like to admit, and I put too much effort into my appearance.
I do not say this to fish for compliments or to get people to tell me that I am wrong and beautiful. I say this because I want to be honest with myself and others.
I am vain.
Some days more than others. Somedays I really don't care; I throw my hair up and walk around in a big t-shirt and spandex shorts. But somedays, when the right people are around and giving me slightly superior looks, I am very vain.
Today I am posting a small series of self portraits. Not because I want to flaunt anything or get people to tell me nice things, not even because they have some deep, wonderful meanings.
But rather because I am just a person. And these are just photos from the past year that show a little of who I am as a person. A  flawed, vain, reluctantly poetic person.

Grind and Prejudice

It is a truth universally acknowledged that with a great love for coffee comes a wide array of spills and stains. I've often said that if I ever have children I will not be able to get mad at them for spilling because I will be knocking things over just as much- if not more. 

"Dad! Can you get a towel? Mom spilled her coffee again." 

 If you went through my closet you would have a hard time find a single article that does not have a coffee smudge, stain, blurb, squiggle, splotch or dousing. However, please do not go through my closet because that is creepy...

 I really try though, I do. I try very hard not to spill. It's just that mugs are cooler that tumblers. I know I shouldn't bring the mug in the car but holding a warm mug is like a tiny hug. And when I do have to-go mugs they often spill...on their own... without any real help from me. Also, Starbucks mugs are as tricky as their mascot (which is a Siren, by the way... who are the most diabolical, twisted sluts is mythology...), I swear the mouth hole moves. One minute it's right in front of me, I go to take a sip and BAM! it's on the other side of the cup, drizzling new stains on my innocent, impressionable, untainted, new white shorts. 

I like to the think of it as personality art. 

I am a painting. Coffee stains provide a realism to my art that really can't be replicated. That abstract touch that really captures who I am in. 

It's beautiful, okay? 

So if you see me, and if you see the coffee stain that I guarantee is somewhere on my attire, don't point it out, just appreciate the work of art.

The Pirates' Life For Me

  I recently went to Dutch country. Pella, Iowa is apparently famous for it's tulips, dutch letters and bologna. I liked the quaint feel the little town square had. There were at least five bakeries within a few blocks of each other. And large windmills, don't forget the windmills. My parents wanted to spend the day with me so we walked around the square, sampling beef jerky and smelling the fresh bread. Also, there was coffee involved. I mean, obviously.
  We started out with lunch at Smokey Row Coffeehouse: cheeseburger chowder in a bread bowl and a bottle of root beer to go with that, thank you. I liked Smokey Row because the inside matched the name. It was a little dark inside and it felt like something you would find inside a ski resort... I mean, something I would imagine you would find in a ski resort... I wouldn't actually know since I've never been skiing.
  Anyway, it was relaxed, and to me, one of the top priorities of a coffee shop should be to make the customers feel relaxed. You should be able to stay for hours studying or having a sweet conversation with friends or just sitting and staring at you coffee in peace.
  Coffee relaxes me. I want everyone to be able to experience it's
warming, soothing power.
  The rest of the day was spent sampling, wandering, discovering all the wonders of the tulip town(which actually didn't have that many tulips due to recent snow). By the end of the day I came away with chocolate-covered espresso beans, wafflestroople, a mug, a t-shirt and some lovely film photos.
  My favorite part about towns like this are the small businesses, the bakeries, boutiques, bookstores, coffee houses, antique shops ect... They all hold special and unique atmospheres. Every once in a while you find a place that you just sort of fit into, almost like it's alive and understands who you are. And that little shop or eatery or bookstore becomes a part of you or you a part of it, I'm never really sure.
  I've recently been around a little girl who has a wild imagination. Upon meeting her she told me she was a scientist, detective, and princess. I informed her that I was a pirate.
But in some silly, poetic way, I think I actually am. I scour the country in search of metaphorical gems, gems that sparkle and speak and breathe and make good coffee.
So anchors away, my friends!

                           

A Photo Journey

  Taking pictures with a film camera is an exciting endeavor. You never really know what you are going to get. Each role of film is a precious thing, something you want to cherish and use carefully. Film costs money, getting them developed cost money, buying new batteries cost money. So when I get the pictures back and they aren't what I was hoping for I am filled with a sad sense of failure. But when I get them back and they are crisp and unique, I feel accomplished. My journey was not for naught. I didn't wake up to catch the sunrise for nothing. I didn't make my roommate pull over the car for nothing. I didn't stand in the same position for five minutes just to get the right face for nothing. 

There is a lot of risk involved, but in the end, when I get pictures like the ones below, it makes it all worth it. 

  I like to post the pictures without words to interrupt them so that when you look through them it an experience. You come with me on the adventures I went on to get these shots. This collection is not in order of how they were taken or where they were taken, but rather how I feel they flow best. The pictures are not incredible and I do not claim to be any sort of photographer, but each picture is a story and it can be whatever story your see or want to see in it. So good luck and enjoy the view. (:

Mississippi to Florida then Back Again

  I've been busy with life as of late. To finally sit down and write without having people all around me feels a bit foreign. But here's what the last few weeks have looked like: I discovered some lovely places and satisfying coffee, and I took a four day trip to Florida. I'll start with Florida...

  I went down to work at a fancy smancy conference down in Bonita Springs. It was held at a Regency Hotel. The type of place where the fountains are as big as the pools and and the pools have fountains in them... so you never can 100% tell the difference. Even though I didn't get to stay at the hotel, I enjoyed wandering around the various shops and gardens. But when everything is so over priced just for the heck of it, I wonder if it's actually better or just a pretty scam. I mean, I liked the coffee. It had a nice flavor and was dark enough for me, which is saying something. In truth, though, the five star coffee wasn't any better than a five dollar bag of coffee from Target. Over priced coffee annoys me. It's like paying for a hug. Sure, its still good but there's no reason to make it so expensive when it isn't any different. Don't get me wrong, I'm okay with expensive coffee if it's worth it. But it needs to really be worth it, otherwise just go to the grocery store and get a bag or can of it. (As long as it's not Folgers, of course.)

  To be honest, I am a coffeehouse critic (this you may already know). I mean it all in love but I tend to pick apart the decor choices, drink choices, grind choices, even the table clothe choices. You can imagine how delightful it was when I stepped into The Depot Coffeehouse I didn't find anything wrong. I instantly loved it. The drink choices were diverse yet classic. The Decor was simple but artsy. The downstairs was bright and conducive to lunch dates and friendly conversation while the upstairs was darker and cozy, great for studying or brainstorming. And the coffee they use is Counter Culture, which is a brand I have come to like since my brother bought me a bag for my birthday this past year. I truly look forward to going back someday and cross my fingers in hopes that I will be able to find more as so-close-to-perfect as it again. Cheers to the owners and decorators!
 
  Either this is a good coffee town or it's been my lucky week because just down the road from The Depot is T-Bones Records and Coffee. Half the place is an indie rock looking coffeehouse and the other half is an indie record(yes, actual records) and cd shop. I tried to buy a Miles Davis cd but they were all out. Amyway, the coffee was smooth and fit the scenery. The

whole place felt...mellow, if I dare use that word. And the company I had wasn't bad either. :D

   I am very grateful that I have had productive travels these past weeks. Today I arrived near Memphis and I look forward to what aroma's and brews and shops and adventures wait here for me.

  Stay caffeinated, my friends!