Invasion of the Season
November 30, 2008
Yesterday I suggested to my sister that we spend an afternoon at a homey coffee shop loaded with wireless internet and great espresso. She needed to write a paper and I to edit some Mike Bickle notes for an upcoming project. I thought this was the perfect venue for such work because every visit I had made to It’s A Grind in the past had been so peaceful and quiet. The place was always empty of chit-chat and filled with the most comfy, overstuffed chairs.
So after lugging my poor sister Shanon around town running errands for three hours (in which I proceeded an embarrassing attempt to return a Walmart cookie sheet to Target…“ahem, this is not in our system Ma’am”. Woops!) we ended up in great need of caffeine and time to sit and gaze deeply into the beauty of our iBooks.
What greeted us inside the lovely coffee shop was not the library meets Ikea meets Starbucks meets a log cabin; the perfect combination for relaxation and education, but a jolly, old Santa Clause. Apparently this afternoon (and this afternoon only) Santa had diverted his sleigh and stopped in for a much needed pick me up in the form of a peppermint mocha-bark latte, while also making himself available for a photo shoot with children of all ages. Our cool hangout had been converted into a Christmas photo center complete with crying infants, stuffy nosed little girls with enormous red bows on their heads, little boys standing right in the middle of any place I was attempting to walk, and teenage boys trying to squeeze onto the lap of a poor, old man.
Every few minuets my sister would shift her gaze from her pretty, white Mac over to me and give me an evil eye and long blinks. We sat there for a good hour, fighting to focus on anything but our surroundings and then gave up. I think it was the tambourine in Santa’s hand that finally took her over the edge.
Making our way back to our nice, little home we realized the festive spirit had somehow rubbed off onto our single, unattached little hearts. That is when the decorating began, along with numerous accidents caused by yours truly. (I blame the short, soy hazelnut latte.)
We descended into our ginormous basement to unearth our Christmas décor and while gathering boxes I dropped and shattered a glass spice-scented candle. Total bummer. But we proceeded to begin setting out all our little knickknacks around the living room without it and this is when I realized one of the wise men had been decapitated. He was in need of some serious prayer and super glue if he was going to “represent” in this years nativity. So I ran to grab the super glue. I opened the lid and glue immediately dripped onto my sister desk, in which I was given the painful split decision of running for a towel, in which I risked the glue drying forever or sacrificing myself by wiping it up with my fingers. I opted for the later and now have dried super glue coating three of my fingers. But the desk holds no evidence of any glue, thank you very much. The rest of the Christmas adornment went smoothly, minus me burning my thumb in an attempt to light a three-wick holiday candle.
I will now leave you with a few photos. Today I finally broke down and bought new shoelaces for my favorite shoes. I bought these in San Francisco for nine bucks at a sidewalk sale. I love them so much. Two years ago a friend and her six-month-old German Sheppard puppy stayed with me for a few days. We left the dog alone for a few hours and came back to discover that she had gotten to my closet and snacked on several of my shoes. I was keeping my cool until I discovered my Cons!! Anything but them. Thankfully they were repairable and I have used the same chewed-up laces ever since. But today I bought some new ones. They look pretty silly all white and bright on my old, beat-up shoes. My mother thinks I should retire the green tennies, but I refuse to concede: they were my mode of transportation for two years in San Francisco and remind me of the city girl I once was and still am deep down on the inside.

