deeples

March 25, 2008

Against my will, I now have to like Starbucks.

Filed under: Around Town — denise @ 4:26 pm

This morning I stopped at Fresh Grounds, a coffee shop on W. 7th in St. Paul, on my way to work.  Kory had recommended the place to me as it had good coffee, decent food, wifi and a nice, clean environment.  What really grabbed me this morning and finally made me stop was the sign next to the building that read: “STOP IN FOR $2 LATTES on Tuesdays and Thursdays” and I thought, “Hot Damn! $2 lattes!” and pulled in.

This is what the place looks like:

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When I walked in, I was greated by a young dude with braids and a small woman with an unfortunate, obvious case of meth-mouth. 

Young dude:  Good morning! What can I get you?

Me:  Good morning!  A skim latte, to go, please.

Woman:  What size?

Me:  The $2 size.  *grinning foolishly*

They, in unison: EVERY SIZE IS A TWO DOLLAR LATTE TODAY!!! (joyously!)

Me:  Well, then, the biggest size $2 latte that you have!!  (also joyous!)

Dude:  Ma’am, would you like anything else today?

Me:  (In the mode)  Yes, sir.  I would also like one of your bagel/cream cheese packets.  ($1.50, by the way)

Dude:  Absolutely, ma’am. That’ll be $3.50. 

I hand him a fiver and dump the change into the tip jar and I start wandering around by the hanging photography they have for sale. I am only mildly concerned with the ma’am-ing.  “I’m not old”, I tell myself.  “Of course you aren’t!”, I respond back to myself.  I’m only mildly concerned that I agree with myself…

The photography appears to be one of two things at the moment: pictures of live moose OR psychedelically developed pictures of calla lillies to look like they have combined with neon, checkerboards and 1983.  They all say, “LIMITED EDITION!” on them and have pricetags around $60. 

I heard a little shuffle behind me and the Dude was back. 

“Ma’am,” he says, “Here’s your latte.”… and he’s holding it like one would hold a Fabrege Egg  or perhaps, the next item up for bid… 

“Aren’t you sweet?!”, I say.  (because for some reason, I insist in becoming like Aunt Bea when young people act like decent human beings) “Thanks for bringing that to me! I was just waiting for someone to yell out ‘Skim Latte!’ like most other coffee shops”

He smiled shyly.  The woman hollers, “We aren’t like other coffee shops!” and then laughs heartily, showing all of her brown little tooth nubs… and then I notice my coffee is in a Starbucks cup.  With a Starbucks sleeve. 

And then I notice the sign on the wall about how Fresh Grounds is a second chance for at-risk youth to learn on-the-job skills and Starbucks and other local vendors support them by providing the coffee and food… and then the staff and the art and everything else made a little more sense. …

 You can read about them here:  http://www.freshgroundscoffee.com/

Stop by if you are in St. Paul… it’s nice to support these types of businesses and get cheap coffee.   It’s also sort of refreshing to have your coffee presented to you without the slightest air of pretension, piercings or patchouli. 

March 24, 2008

American Idol – Top 11 (Subtitle: Beatles, AGAIN?!!!)

Filed under: American Idol,Television — denise @ 8:59 pm

Week before last:  David I only stripped for 3 years Hernandez goes out in a cloud of Drakar Noir, Dippity Doo and smarm.  Probably someone, somewhere was sad.

Last week:  Angela “Ballads don’t go over well at NASCAR eventsOvermeyer goes home to the resounding, earth-shattering shock of few.  The Fonz, maybe.

Last week, they decided to do “The Beatles”, which made everyone go, “Seriously? Again?”, to which American Idol replied, “Dude, last week it was just Lennon/McCartney and this week it’s The BeatlesHELLOOOOO..“, to which I say,

Nice try, sucker.We all know it’s the same thing and everyone was pretty good the week before so you thought you’d capitalize on that along with the fact that since you just got the go-ahead to use these songs you are apparently dead-set upon OVER-USING them, in fact, I’m pretty sure we’ll see John Lennon singing along with someone bizarro… maybe Pink or Korn …at the American Idol Gives Back spectacular, ala Celine singing with Elvis last year….   where was I?    Oh yeah, doing the Beatles again.  I don’t know about you, NBC, but most of us knew that Beatles II was a bad idea. ”

Rumor has it that this week they will sing a song from the year they were born…  So, I will offer my suggestions for that, because I know they all certainly read my blog. I’m kind of insufferable that way.

Photobucket Dark Elf

Ramiele Azriel Marmalade Mandalay Bay  “I Should Have Known Better”

Yes.  You should have.

Here’s what I think is the crux of the problem: She’s lost without Danny Noriega.  They were BFF and now he’s gone and joining Rosie O’Donnell on Pride cruiseships and appearing on Ellen and he’s left his little pixie girl behind and she’s a little lost. Her voice sounded really shakey, as if she had stage-fright.

Is it just me, or does actually resemble manga more and more each week?  It’s as if the whites in her eyes are disappearing and she’s on the brink of becoming an elf or a pixie. Wouldn’t it be awesome if she started to get pointy little ears and if little silvery, cherry-blossom-covered wings burst out of her back and she flew around the stage a little while she sang?  Even I would pick up the phone for that!

Year born: 1988

I’d love to hear her sing: “Hazy Shade of Winter” ,The Bangles  or “Piano In the Dark”, Brenda Russell

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Chikezie – “I’ve Just Seen A Face”

I just listened to this recording again and it was FANTASTIC.  The beginning was soulful and moving leading up to that great FAAALLLING… Yes, I am FAALLING part… and then the harmonica busted out and if I could have flung myself into a haypile while jigging and changing my name is Louetta, I woulda.  THAT is what it’s all about for me.  A sensical, physical, emotional reaction to music.

Year born: 1986

I’d love to hear him sing: “Stand By Me”, Ben E. King or “If You Leave”, O.M.D

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Syesha – “Yesterday”

She isn’t my favorite.  In fact, she’s in my bottom 4, at least…  but I liked the change of hair and the feminine dress (read: Hello, boobies. Welcome to Idol.) I did not love the earrings, which seemed really at odds with the dress.  Her make-up made her look sort of old instead of fresh and fun… that said… my favorite performance of the night.

I have rarely in my life seen a song performed with such pure intensity and emotion.  It pulled me apart to just watch her sing this song, as if every line was another crease in a well-worn diary of regret and loss.  When she sang of longing for yesterday, I did, too.  I did.  She took me there.

When she finally looked up, it was as if she even forgot where she was… and I, in my living room, could not stop clapping for her.  Bravo, sweetie.   Bravo!

Year born: 1987

I’d love to hear her sing: “I’m Looking For a New Love” – Jody Whatley or “Luka” Suzanne Vega

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Jason Casto – “Michelle”

Judges?  Scoring out of 10, please.

Song: 3

Too Tight Pants: 2

Delivery: 1

What the HELL HAPPENED?  Who put him in those JEANS, for Christ’s sake?!  And that horrible MEEEEE-shell skippity hoppity thing he was doing around the stage?  I mean, why not just put on a pair of tights and sing “My Little Buttercup”?   Because, that’s all the attention and thought you put into every aspect of this performance.  Come on, MAN! I really like you!   What are you doing?

My real concern is that “Who gives a F” glint in his eye.  He seems like the sweetest kid, but he’s starting to get that smirky, half-smile that says I’m so over this and I can’t wait to back to coffee shops and college parties where I belong…  don’t give up yet, Jas.  TRY HARDER.  WEAR JEANS THAT FIT.  DO NOT PICK SONGS THAT HAVE THE NAME OF ONE OF THE MOST REVOLTING HUMAN BEINGS THAT I HAVE EVER MET AS THEIR TITLE, not that it was a contributing factor for the *ahem* judges, of course.

Year born: 1988

I’d love to hear him sing: “Never Tear Us Apart”, INXS  or “One More Try”, George Michael  (ooh, both of those would be ironic just-got-kicked-off songs)

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Carly Smithson”Blackbird”

I suppose that Simon would call it, “indulgent”.  I call it, “I am the shit and can sing whatever I damn well please”.  Except, not so much.  While this song has a certain mesmerizing emotive subtlety when sung by a male tenor…  when powered through by a female it sounds like a lunchlady yelling that she needs another tray of sloppy joes.  The home-grown, every girl taking her whiskey neat and writing in the corner of a smokey coffee shop way of her has been glamo-plasticized into a renegade Betty Boop  with a publicist.  Yeeps.  Give me back the lanky hair.  Give me back the ability to look at her and NOT think “Maybe it’s Maybelline”.  Give me back the time when she didn’t need to give lame excuses about her lame song choices.  I love your voice.  Come back, Carly.  Come back…

Year born: 1984

I’d love to hear her sing:  “On The Darkside” , John Cafferty & The Beaver Brown Band or “Time After Time”, Cyndi Lauper

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David Cook “Daytripper”

Daaaaaaaaaaytripper! WAH WAH WAH WAH WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH.

Okay, the voicebox was… lerm.

Babe, no need for gimmicks.  You are lovely.  Do your thing and stop trying to be the 10 personas that you are trying to blend into one dude.  Put on some jeans and a Che Guevara t shirt.  Put on a baseball cap (I’m thinking Pitts Pirates, I don’t know why..)  or a knit cap with a bill on it, like my friend Chris wears.  Plop that guitar on your knee and just sing.  Enough with the stupid emo hair and the stupid wrist cuffs and bandannas.  Strip it down.  Be vulnerable.  Dare to be nothing but music.

Year born:  1983

I’d love to hear him sing: “Every Breath You Take”, The Police or “Allentown”, Billy Joel

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Brooke White  “Here Comes The Sun”

Well, shit, Brooke…  what was that?

The dress was horrible. You looked like you’d just rolled in some old crepe paper.  The song choice was corny. The delivery belonged on Electric Company.  I was half-expecting you to teach me some adverbs, too.

Horriby……………..  horribly………………  horrib………  L… Y!

I found your speech to the judges about how lame you are the opposite of the obvious attempt to be charming.  I just wanted you to stop.  The incessant, “It’s ok! It’s ok!” to the audience was more smug than endearing…  you just seemed wholly unprepared and falsely inpregnable.  Your voice is soothing and interesting enough that I’m mostly able to block out what you say when you talk.  Be yourself.  Now, dammit!

Year born: 1984

I’d love to hear her sing: “The Warrior”, Scandal  or “What’s Love Got To Do With It”, Tina Turner

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Michael Johns “A Day In The Life”

I’m always like, what the hell is that song when I hear the titles?!  Then, they sing the first line…

I heard the news today, oh boy….

And you are instantly going OH OH OH OH YEAH!  OK. OK.  YEAH!

I love Michael Johns. I don’t know what else to say. He’s Heath Ledger and Jim Morrison and Ian Michael Black all rolled into one sexy, mysterious, funny, smart, unusual, talented, directionless mess.    Keep on keeping on, babe.

Year born: 1979

I’d love to hear him sing: “Devil Went Down To Georgia”, Charlie Daniels Band or  “Lady” , Little Rivers Band  (Seriously, if you want me to die a thousand deaths, sing this…  because I nearly go batshit every time I hear it on the radio.  Probably, I’ll set something on fire and throw my ample bra at the TV in a frenzy of helpless fandom. Hopefully, the kids will already be in bed and my husband will be transfixed by a Woot!-off…. hopefully….)

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David Archuleta  “Long And Winding Road”

So… better.  He remembered the words and all…  and certainly, I don’t have the same murder-death-kill reaction that I used to have at the mere mention of his name… and yet, something is just still not right about this kid.  He has a manic veneer of a smile, perfectly practiced facade of someone on the brink, you know.  Like… like… Marilyn… you know?  He has an almost manic stage presence about him that makes you wonder if someone in the band came in a note too soon he would just CRACK in that moment and whip out a flame-thrower and scorch them into ashes while mumbling under his breath, “Must be perfect… must… be…… perfect”

Can we just let this kid off this grown-up ride?  Just, you know, let him join the cast of the new “90210”. Give him his own show on Disney.  Rename him Zack!  Do something!  He needs wholesomeness and repetition in his life!!!  The tweens love him, desperately.. so, lets just make him an honorary Jonas Brother and be done with it!  Give him fame and followers and release him from the grind and brain-destabilizing mechanism that is Idol.  Please, little tweens?  Let him go.  He’ll be in a better place.

Year born:  1990

I’d love to hear him sing: “I Remember You”, Skid Row  or  “Free Fallin”, Tom Petty

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Kristy Lee Cook “You’ve Got To Hide Your Love Away”

Well, I just…….

Pphhhbt!

It was so….

Nggghg.

Those boots… and the silvery eyeshadow… and the not good song…  I thought it was your swan song, darlin’… I really did.  Obviously, some folks out there have more dialin’ fingers than the NASCAR lovers of Amanda… that’s about all I can say.  The “country” bit has run it’s course, don’t you think?  Carrie Underwood, you are not.  It’s not working.  Time to switch gears. Time to go back to the wild curly-haired girl we loved.  I’ve heard it mentioned that you resemble a certain bird-loving, long, thin beauty we all know…    and while I can see the resemblance, our Laurena would never, EVER, wear that eyeshadow, sister.  NEVER.  Also, she has fabulous shoes and you do not, Kristy Lee.  You. Do. Not!

Year born:  1984

I’d love to hear her sing: “Love Is A Battlefield”, Pat Benetar or  “Missing You”, John Waite

What I’d really love to see and hear tomorrow night would be someone… anyone… singing acapella for all or part of their song like Bo did a few seasons ago.  Wouldn’t that just blow your mind?

Go, Top 10…

Go forth and be awesome.

March 23, 2008

Easter ~ My Mom ~ Funny door

Filed under: Triple play — denise @ 2:31 am

Easter

Or as my friend Richard calls it, “DROJ Day”. As in, “What are you up to on DROJ Day?”…. and I was all, “WHA?”

He emailed me back, “Oh, sorry! Death and resurrection of Jesus Day” and I was all, “Ohhhh.  Brunch with the fam.”

Except, that of course it’s actually breakfast, church, talking, baskets and then brunch, all of which has ranged from palatable to fun in the past.  I have, however, had something of a falling out with Kory’s family’s church.  I won’t go into the gory details, but it was a disagreement of epic proportions and while we’ve all agreed that we love one another and are forgiving one another and moving on, there is still a noticeable chasm.  A tiny break, but now an area of weakness that will need to be handled gently and with great care so as to not reopen the wound.  It’s for this reason that I considered very seriously going to the Easter service tomorrow morning.

Except….  that the hypocrisy of me attending this service is just a little more than I can handle right now.  I feel like hyperventilating just thinking about going to a service at their church.  I know I will feel awkward and uncomfortable and I’m practically incapable of hiding such feelings from others – which will only serve to upset me and everyone around me. Bottom line is that while I was married in that church, I am not a member.  I don’t mind if Kory wants to go and bring The Baby or if The Teen wants to join them. I don’t mind a bit.  I, however, am going to stay home and drink coffee and read the Sunday paper and breathe deeply.

Personally, I’m ready for the 4th of July.

My Mom

My lovely mother, who raised my sister and I on her own, turned 60 last Saturday.  She’s living in Tucson, AZ with my grandmother and has created a nice life for herself. She’s working on a hundred different projects, has made a bunch of new friends, has been offered a promotion at work, has almost completed the course-work to start a whole new career, has lost something like 60 pounds… I mean, she’s doing GREAT.

And I, being the fabulous human being that I am did not call her on her birthday.  I also forgot to get a card in the mail. ON HER 60TH BIRTHDAY.

I had a small pass in that I was in Lutsen on her actual birthday and there is little to no reception up there. When we got back we found that The Baby’s rash had not only horribly intensified, but was now accompanied by a 3 day long series of high fevers that made her clingy and hot and unable to sleep at night.  Work, also, was a nuclear meltdown. My workload was piling up due to missed days with Sicky McBaby and the trip and several critical partnering relationships had imploded while I was gone… so I came back to a whirlwind of work insanity, sick baby, The Teen started a new trimester and had all new classes, new teachers, a zillion forms to sign…  all of this is my way of saying… by Friday, I STILL HAD NOT CALLED HER.

Now, of course, it was far more than just being distracted and torn in a million directions, now I was actively terrified to call her.  Consumed with guilt and fearing the tongue-lashing of the century from a justifiably shattered mother, I somehow found an amazing array of things to do instead of calling my mother.  This is not unlike my sophomore year in high school when, overwhelmed, I ditched my Chemistry class on a major test day… and then, not having a note and afraid to say so to the teacher, I ditched the next day… which became me sitting in the library at school every single day for an entire semester until the final weighty F arrived on my report card.   When asked why I didn’t just go back, I couldn’t answer.  I don’t know.  I was afraid.  I don’t know.  Facing the music isn’t my strong suit?  Failing sucks?  Disappointing people that I love and/or respect makes me want to vomit on my feet?

So, Friday afternoon I got an email from my mother.  Subject: Are you ok????

Am I ok?

My mind races. I don’t want to open this email. It’s going to be bad.  Am I ok?!

She’s so flummoxed by the horridness of someone who wouldn’t call their mother even days and days after her 60th birthday, she’s now decided something must be wrong with me.  Clearly, I’ve been abducted or become a Communist.. or been abducted by Communists…

I brace myself and open the email and it’s like this [paraphrased]: Hi! Hope you are ok and had a fun trip and blah blah.. I’m fine and work is good and I hope The Baby and The Teen are good and I really would like to hear your voice and I hope you aren’t mad at me for something because I love you, etc………………..

I think I passed out at my desk – I mean, WHO SAW THAT COMING?

Not me, that’s who.

So, seeing this amazing opportunity to swoop in and mend the fence, I promptly find a thousand other things to do. Again. Surely, this is a trap.  Surely, when I actually do call it will end with me a sobbing, snot-faced mess.  And I just can’t tell you how not up to that I am right now.

So, today, she emails me again.  Firmer.

Honey, call me. I need to hear your voice.  We all make mistakes, etc.etc.  Let’s start over. Etc. Etc.  Call me. Call me. Call me.

So, I make a few excuses.  Make myself a couple cocktails and finally… finally…. I call her.

And we laughed and told each other stories and caught up and laughed some more for an hour.

The only reference to the whole drama was simply this:

me:  Mom, I love you and I’m so so sorry

Mom:  I know you are, honey.  I know you are.

I’ve been so busy being everyone else’s mom, I forgotten how much they rule.  Moms, that is.

Mine, specifically.

Funny Door

This door in clearly not in Minnesota or it would have said, “ALRIGHTY” instead of “ALRIGHT”

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