Coffee has been coming up a lot lately. Perhaps it’s due to the colder weather? Anyway, to start, we recently acquired a coffee maker (thank you very much again), and it has made a GREAT addition to our lives. I don’t really ever have time to drink a cup in the morning, but Andy does (somehow he manages to finish getting ready before me even though he showers after me), and the point is it smells HEAVEnly. This past weekend, Andy and I sat around lazily and sipped on our yummy-smelling coffee, and it was just lovely. Sometimes I just fancy a change from tea - that’s all.

So with coffee on the brain, on Sunday evening, we went to St. Paul’s to watch the free organ concert - you know that already - but THEN we went to Starbucks, because the Christmas drinks have ARRIVED. One mug of chocolate mint bliss for me, and one mug of gingerbread latte for Andy. We sat in the window (by the way, they serve it in REAL MUGS here) and watched the people walk by in the rain. It was just wonderful. Then, the next day at work, some lovely ladies were talking about their Sunday nights, which involved playing pool at the pub with mates, so I told them about my Sunday night, and at first they looked at me with that trying-to-be-nice-but-what-kinda-weirdo-does-that expression, and then one of them asked me if Starbucks reminded me of home. I said yes*, and when I’m really homesick I go sit in McDonald’s with the fat people and smell that vat of oil, and ahhh. . . . the memories. . . mom used to slave all day over that . . uh. . . cash register. . .

I guess I can understand in a way - there really isn’t an English equivalent to the mega-corporations of American origin that everyone loves to hate, so if tea and biscuits or a pub lunch would remind and English person of home, why wouldn’t McD’s be a beacon of warm, fuzzy nostalgia for the Yanks? Then again, come ONNNnnnnnnn. . . . .

OK so then, this morning we went to breakfast, as we do regularly, and in Mr. Cappuccino, a teeny cafe with excellent croissants (and cappuccinos, as one would hope) that happens to be our most frequent breakfast spot, there were three guys filming a movie. We were there first, and then a guy came in with two other guys behind them. Then they broke out these big professional cameras and started filming the first guy as he drank his coffee and read the Guardian. Ok, WHAT?! There are 6, maybe 7 teany tables in this place, and two of them are now in a movie. A movie is happening in my left ear and Andy is talking into my right ear, and can you DO that?!

Guess so.

So look for my left elbow in some random movie in another language. I’m wearing a pink sweater and my elbow is VERY pointy. You won’t miss it.

*”Said” in this sentence refers to the blog definition of “said,” which means that my wittier, post-conversation, post-steal jokes from Andy self had thoughts of this general nature and then the real version of me claimed that I actually said it when in real life what I may have actually said may or may not have actually been lame.