Starbucksopoly Alternative

I'm a coffee lover. My Dutch heritage and my Dad's birthplace of Java genetically predisposed me to coffee-loving. I do not love Starbucks coffee. Their specialty drinks either taste like warm milk or scalding hot sugar syrup to me. Thankfully, I've discovered a fantastic alternative to the Starbucks on every corner: Peet's Coffee and Tea.

Peet's serves robust coffee straight up or in delightful mixtures of the latte and cappuccino varieties. When I take a sip, I no longer scowl at the absence of coffee flavor in my coffee; I smile in pure bliss (after I swallow).

The earthy brown beans roasted on site at Peet's greet you at the door and the staff even make attempts to memorize your first name. Kind of a nice neighborhood feel. There aren't too many Peet's around on the west coast, I guess because Starbucks really is on every corner. But if you come across one, don't pass it by! This is coffee for grown-ups.

Dry Sausages

Occasionally, after an especially draining or tedious day at the office, I reminisce about my waitressing job of high school and college. Those days under the tray were exciting, indeed. I never knew what characters would sit at my tables and the money wasn't bad, either. I regularly pulled $300 in tips a night on the weekends at an Italian fine dining house with very over-priced wines. In fact, it was a much fairer compensation system than my current civil service pay structure. Your tips directly reflect your customers' satisfaction and motivate you to provide your very best service. In civil service, everybody gets the same salary and automatic (albeit tiny) pay increases once a year whether you're a hard charger or a slug. Unless you have designs on management positions, which are almost always inside jobs, there's really no monetary incentive to do your best. Thus all those civil service worker jokes..."how many civil servants does it take to...". Naturally, there are always exceptions. I count myself among those. There are employees who have a strong work ethic among the sloths. It's just a broken system, all the same.

Of course, waitressing has its pitfalls. Strange birds who might crack off a dollar on a $100 tab, or those curious people who must round the charge total to an even amount, even if it short-changes the waitress. Grrrr. Waitressing is hard work, folks. My restaurant was a former house, with the kitchen upstairs. The owner was a bit Cruella DeVille-esque (crazy white hair, loooong red nails, black and white outfits) and insisted us girls wear those black parade shoes with 2 inch heels with our Italian maiden dress uniforms. Every one of us took a tumble down the stairs and if you'd been holding food or dishes, she'd take the cost of what you dropped out of your check! Beyotch, eh? No matter, the tips were so good we came out ahead anyway.

I had my little share of regulars and one guy, in particular, was beyond odd. But I was always happy to see him. He dined alone and was crabby. No small talk whatsoever. Always insisted on the same table and ordered the same thing: spaghetti with Italian sausage and peppers, with a twist: the sausages MUST be dry. We marinated our sausages in sauce all day. Mr. Dry, however, wanted no sauce anywhere near his plate. So I obliged, washing off the two sausages, drying them and placing them in their naked glory on the plain white noodles. He was happy at last! He left me a $50 tip that first night and every night there after until I left the job four years later. See? He appreciated my service! And that just made me want to dry those sausages extra nicely time after time.

So I propose all civil servants complete one year of waiter/waitressing prior to permanent appointment. It will be readily apparent who wants to work and who's there for the free ride about five tables into the first night. And remember, support your food servers. Please tip accordingly!

Los Angeles ExPat

I've become an expatriate under the definition of someone residing in a culture other than that of their upbringing. Bingo. The latest act in the center ring of immorality circus, Mayor Villaraigosa cheating on his wife for the second (known) time with a Telemundo news anchor assigned to cover the Mayor's post (honestly, no pun intended). Did I mention his wife's battling cancer? Nice.

City Attorney Rocky DelGadillo and wife step up to the ring with their exciting trick, driving for more than a year without auto insurance! His wife has a little more experience under her belt, having been busted twice for driving under a suspended license, once in her husband's city car. Bravo, DelGadillos! It seems a little DelGaHypocritical to jam Paris Hilton for doing something so similar to your own M.O.

Young Hollywood leaving their vajayjay prints on leather seats all over the city and certainly a few major airline carriers. Ghastly. Alcohol wipes are a must have accessory for every Angelino now. All of Hollywood assuming the rest of us are interested in their political views. I'll pass, thanks. Please stars, just stick to making great movies and getting spray tans.

Let's see, Los Angeles is cheating, lying, being reckless behind the wheel, exposing private parts and running at the mouth. L.A. is going through puberty! This is just not my gig. Although I love the beach, eclectic culture and a little bit of edge in my day, I hope the winds of change blow through here soon and bring a little decency to town. Might take a category 4 hurricane at this rate.

Reverend Frank Floats my Boat

I saw "License to Wed" today and it was hil-frickin-larious (rolls off the tongue better with 2 l's). The critics, however, hated it! I think the critics need to have their humorology examined. I am telling you, I can rewind a few scenes in my head and still laugh out loud. Robin Williams' character, Reverend Frank, is a lovably annoying and wise man. And his mini me, an odd little boy in his 'ministers of tomorrow' program, is the perfect wing man.

I live within walking distance of theaters, so I skip right over quite a lot, with or without friends. Today I went solo, which I've convinced myself I'm totally comfortable with. Perhaps I still have kernels of lone movie-goer shame left in me. After sitting down and getting the once over from nearby couples and quartets, I busted myself for pretending to look for my 'friend' coming in either of the entry points until the blessed darkness fell. Wuss. I should embrace my by myselfness and proudly take that end seat with reckless abandon.

Back on point. This movie has lots of funny scenes and cameos from most of "The Office" cast, as a nod to the lead actor. There's a fantastic series of blunders when the couple is dealing with fake twin baby dolls going ballistic in Macy's. The dolls are part of Reverend Frank's marriage course to help them know each other better. It was a scream. When I laugh like that I begin to laugh at myself laughing, which leads to stifling, which culminates in choking and gasping and a few looks of concern from my seat neighbors.

All well worth it! If you feel like laughing and learning love tips simultaneously - go see it. And please don't stare at the LMGs.

Blogholes

There are blogholes out there. I've discovered many blog directories with fun features and virtual friends to exchange tips with. But there, in between meaningful messages on the forums, lurks the bloghole.

They lay in wait on every directory I've visited, barking stuff at novices and vets alike. The blogholes call people names for asking questions, belittle honest suggestions, blast out arrogant comments and pollute the blogosphere with useless flaps from angry little fingers on keyboards. Tap, tap, tap!

But hark, there's always a voice of reason that exposes the bloghole for all the world to see with one rational reply. I love it! I've seen threads going nuclear until the bloghole gets shut down and blurp, they slink for a bit and then post a good thread for forgiveness, only to amp back up to their undeniable blogholeness a few replies later.

WTF blogholes? Stand down. There's enough page ranks to go around. Enough badges and votes and trackbacks and...wait a minute...a bloghole remedy! Please, some spectacular smart geek (and I do love geeks) out there write some code to slap a bloghole badge on someone's avatar that just cannot be removed. Blogholes, watch your backs. The code is coming...

The Dingleberry Chronicles

The hair is the villain in this story; not the cat. The hair is the keeper of the dingleberries. I have feisty cat. Never mind she's 14 years old; this crabby tabby thinks she's an absolute lion. She's the best in my book...except for all that long hair. Gobs and gobs of it everywhere. I constantly vacuum. I have lint rollers at the ready in my bag, my car, my desk at work, on the table in the foyer for guests to roll the hair off as they leave. I groom her. I trim her. But alas, the hair just grows back seeminlgy overnight.

Sorry to be graphic, but this story must be told. I trust there are others out there who wrestle with the dreaded dinglberry. It is, of course, a stubborn little ball (sometimes albeit not so little) of crap stuck to the long fur around the exit orifice. The mighty dingleberry wreaks some havoc in this household. My cat has two reactions: either she leaves it there and sits or spins on every imaginable surface in my home, or she does a butt drag maneuver across the carpet attempting to disengage it. As you can imagine, neither option is too effective, let alone sanitary. The sit and spin does provide a little entertainment as I 'follow my nose' to find all the defaced areas. The drag leaves a lone skid mark - much more mundane.

When I came home tonight and greeted my cat I saw by that very distinctive walk that a most unwelcome guest was here, the dingleberry. I have become quite good at swift dingleberry extraction, but any goings on down there agitates my poor cat tremendously. She's just not herself for the rest of the night.

Another thing that's just not itself is my new ergonomic desk chair with a double layer of extra special vented nylon 'comfort mesh' on the seat. Now, a golf ball sized area is smeared with dingleberry firmly packed into all those little holes in the material. I just can't deal with it. I wheeled the chair to the trash bin. It's gone. The dingleberry wins again. Drat.

Deliciously Unplugged

My satellite TV was killed for 24 hours thanks to an over zealous pelican who apparently pushed my dish out of alignment while prancing around on the roof. Gasp! No TV? Actually, I'm glad he stopped by.

I went exploring 'round the neighborhood instead of watching my early evening line-up. To my delight, I found a community of jelly fish floating peacefully in the alcoves of the bay that my condo nestles against. They are so beautiful in their translucent glory, gently rolling back and forth with the changing current.

One photo is natural and the other is electrified a little with Photoshop neon effect. I sat transfixed upon these jellies for about half an hour; quite contently at that! This encounter with nature makes me wonder what else I'm missing with my face pasted to the TV or computer monitor all day...Breathe in the outdoors. There's nothing like it on TV!