Sleezy in Seattle

In true Seattle fashion I have lost my wonderful sunglasses during the rainy season. Where do they go during their breaks? Couldn’t they just hang out in my purse? Or on my counter? But no. They have to go and hide themselves and so even though we finally have a break in the rain, I have to winge about my missing sunglasses. Poo. Somewhere in an alternate universe there are about thirty pair of my sunglasses. Probably drinking margaritas with my sock singles. I buy cheap sunglasses because of this phenomenon. So it’s not the cost I’m miffed about. It’s just that I had a color and a shape I really liked. Perfect for me. And now they are gone and I will have to start that search all over again for the perfect replacement. Winge. Sigh. (btw “winge” is the Brit equivalent of whining, which somehow makes it less annoying, right?) whine.

I was distracted driving to work today and forgot to take the exit on the Island to pick up milk for the latte machine in our kitchen at work. So now I am reeeealy droooooping. I am going to drag my sorry ass to the little Italian cafe down the street. To get a cappuccino pick me up.

I’m back! It was nice to get out into the crisp City air. People bundled up. Clear and sunny (which means some element of cold this time of year).

I made the mistake of asking my co-workers if I could pick them up some sort of caffeine beverage when I was out. They both wanted flavors that are not served at my favorite Italian coffee bar, Caffe Senso Unico (That’s “One Way” in Italian). I had my heart set on going to my little taste of Italy, so I went there first. Sigh…. Did I mention I love Italy? I resisted the bowl of Bacci's (Sis...if you were there I'd have had to have one with you). The man behind me grabbed one and I almost said outloud "Oh, you want a kiss" (since Bacci, besides being a numscrumptios drop off bittersweet chocolatte studded with hazlenut pices, wrapped around a whole one and wrapped in a blue and silver foil...also means "kiss" in Italian."

Then, coffee slut that I am, I sleezed my way into the Starbucks across the street to pick up the drinks for the others. I was trying to hide my cup so the barristas wouldn’t think I was cheating on them. Which is ridiculous as this is a S’bucks I don’t really give a rip about any way: I never, hardly ever go to this one. Still, I yet again experienced my moment of shame.

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p.s. I just ran accross this picture which has my beloved sun glasses that my beloved sister almost got her beloved ass in jail for buying in Italy (that's a whole nuther story). They matched my car. I loved wearing them. I got so many comments on them. And then they fell apart in such a way as to be unfixable. Sigh. It's their replacement that is now missing.