Starbuck's Store Closings

I heard Starbuck’s will be closing 600 stores, and that is sad.

A lot of people hear “Starbuck’s” and say things like:
--“My Folger’s is just fine, thank you.” or
--“Who would be dumb enough to pay $4 for a cup of coffee?” or
--“How nice for you that you are rich and can buy Starbuck’s weekly.”

Look, I do feel guilty that there are starving people in my own city. But, aside from throwing wads of money at charity, what do you want me to do? I am sometimes sleep-deprived and Starbuck’s is the strongest thing I can find to get me going again in the afternoon slump. Do you want me to be a mediocre mom or a ZOWIE MOM?!

My friend Leigh says in her Southern drawl, “Kerrie, you deserve a nice coffee every now and then. You work just as hard as anybody and you don’t spend money on haircuts or highlights or boob jobs like other women do.” Come to think of it, I think she is nicely telling me that a little physical maintenance wouldn’t kill me.

So aside from the fact that Starbuck’s has the best-tasting coffee around, they have a few other things most places these days don’t.

-- Consistency – they’ve never messed up my order. And my mocha is the same in Phoenix as it is in Kansas City, Albuquerque or San Diego. The same.
-- Friendliness – no one has ever been snotty or acted like they didn’t want to be working.
-- Chit chat – how do they get those 20-somethings to chat on any topic in the drive-thru with a 37-year-old mother of 4 and act like they enjoy it?
-- Familiarity – they call you by your first name.
-- Employee health insurance – if you work there over 20 hours per week you get full medical insurance benefits for you and your family. I don’t mind contributing a little to that.
-- Altruism – they donate a lot of coffee and leftover food to local charities.

Locks of Love

Weight Watchers is soon launching a campaign called Lose For Good, which basically contends that lots of people are overweight but lots of people are also starving, so let’s balance it out.

Along those lines, I think some of us have too much hair and some have none (due to alopecia, chemo, parenting, etc.).

I say we long-haired hippie freaks need to donate our hair to Locks of Love.

And please don’t whine to me about how attached you are to your hair. That’s like being attached to your spleen. You can’t even SEE it most of the time.

I’ve done it 3 times and have never cried when the first cut was made. My hair does not define who I am inside (and you can print that in a philosophy book of quotes, friends).

You thought I was just a BABY factory! But you were wrong! I am SO much more than that. I am also a HAIR factory! At this very moment I am making hair for someone who cannot.

Some salons will even cut your hair for free AND send it to Locks of Love

I’d love to hear your story. I'd also love for Blogger to work so I could post my before and after photos!!!!

Space Bags Received!!!

Michael said we need dirt and water (the commercial shows them throwing dirt and water on the sealed Space Bag). Joel said they have 4 layers of protection so nothing can get in them.

If only commercials incorporated some real learning into them, my homeschooling job would be done.

Took the Cube Space Bag downstairs to pack clothes into one and vacuum out the air. I made sure everything I put in the cube was totally outgrown by all 4 kids. I fit THREE large plastic tubs into one Cube Space Bag. It was wicked heavy, but I have Popeye arms from schlepping babies.

Armed with a Large and 2 Medium Space Bags (and the vacuum), I then tackled the cedar chest, which houses rarely-used items, like tablecloths and maternity/skinny clothes. They didn’t smoosh down as much as I’d hoped, but it’ll work.

The Hanging Space Bag will be the Christmas gift of choice to all my enemies. I want to know that they are wrestling with the damn thing like I had to do. It’s a joke, but if you can get it to work right, it’s nice. I smashed 6 fluffy winter kid coats down to only a few inches. About 10 minutes later, the clothes detached from the hanger part and re-inflated with air. I may be testing that money-back guarantee!

I suggest you buy Space Bags in a store because by phone is a ripoff AND they overcharged me AND almost didn’t let me buy them without expedited shipping (which would have been an unnecessary 10 bucks since they came in a week anyway!!).

Now I have more room in my house for … you guessed it, Reader: CHOCOLATE!

My Space versus Facebook

So I decided to give My Space a try to find some old friends, post my blog, etc.

I don’t get it.

I mean, on Facebook most people use their entire name. On My Space they have cool (which is questionable) aliases. So I look up people from my high school graduating class and don’t recognize ONE of them.

HELLO! We are TWENTY years older. PLEASE use your real name so I know who you are! Or at least post your picture from the yearbook, for God’s sake! How do you find people if you aren't psychic enough to know their aliases?

I get why adorable teens would need to use a nickname. Stalkers, predators, molestors, etc. But a 40-year-old man? Buddy, who do you think is coming after you? I mean, get an alarm system or something. Carry a gun. Jeez.

Sibling Arguments at the Pool

Since I feel entitled to spend my husband’s overtime money in advance, I took us to Burger King for dinner (they have awesome Crayola toys right now in the kid’s meals). I was a good girl and got a cheeseburger kid’s meal with apple fries and Diet Coke.

Dear Lord, can I put more brand names in one paragraph??? Xerox, Kleenex, Starbuck’s, Dell, Sprint. Yes, it looks like I CAN!

Anyway, then we went to the pool, which was DEAD since it’s only 82 degrees and the pool was chilly. But we have braved the cold ocean, so the pool was fine. Until a lifeguard got worried about Callie’s blue lips. So I put a towel around her shoulders and made her sit out a bit.

From the sidelines we watched the Cain and Abel of the aquatic world (Joel and Michael) going at it. Joel likes to spit water at people and try to dunk them. Michael likes to scream at the top of his lungs at Joel, but keeps going back for more. Callie likes to call Joel an a**hole (only once, thankfully) for the whole pool to hear.

And I’m thinking, “Kids, where’s your dad when I need him? Right, he’s in Phoenix. He’d know what to do. He had siblings, after all. He knows what’s normal and what needs discipline.” I, however, alternate between pushover and yeller. There is no in between.

Came home, dragged the trash and recycling to the curb, and cried to Aron over the phone about how much I miss him. He’s hoping only 2 more weeks in Phoenix (for a grand total of 15 instead of 10, which has shot our entire summer with him, dammit), THEN ……. THEN!!!!!!!

… Then he is going to try to take an ENTIRE WEEK OFF! Which is the week I was going to start homeschooling, but WHO CARES? Either he can help me or it can wait.