Archive for December, 2007

Here’s the thing; I’ve come to realize that my brother and I have an extraordinary sibling relationship.  While it seems normal and usual to the both of us, apparently not many people share our degree of enthusiasm for siblings.  I think most of you know how much I love and respect my brother because it has been the subject of a few posts over the years.  I’ve been asked by a handful of people why Alex and I are so close, what is the “recipe”, if you will, to a good sibling bond.  I honestly don’t know.  This is what I do know; we were pretty much enemies until I got to high school.  There was always crying and hitting and yelling for mom.  When I got to high school, I suppose both of us had grown up, as is to be expected of children.  We started looking for a church with a really good youth group, as a family.  We came across WOLC, Impact Youth Group and Pastor Tom, and that was the end of our search.  I cannot tell you how great it was to, first of all, have someone to be “new” with (Alex) and for people to welcome us.  It felt like home.  So we started the two-hour round-trip to St. Joe every Wednesday, which will force you to get close to someone.  When I turned 16 and could drive both of us by ourselves, well I think that was the turning point.  When Alex wasn’t falling asleep or listening to certain songs OVER and OVER again, we’d talk.  I’d vent about all those 16-year-old drama-fests and he would just listen.  We’d each ask the other for advice and started to take each other seriously.  We started to enjoy each other, the rivalry and fighting turned to laughing and hugging.  We had to stick together and support each other when mom got sick, an experience that not a lot of other people could relate to.  We could share our fear and frustration about the situation because mom was/is the same person to us.  The odds that the same thing is happening to both of us are greater than the likelihood it is happening to us and someone else. 

I’ve always marveled at siblings.  The fact is that there is no one in the whole world more like you than your sibling, through genetics and environment.  I was thinking just the other day how Alex and I have shared the most vacations together than with any other person (besides the parentals).  It’s eerie sometimes, we think the same thing simultaneously, finish each other’s sentences, etc.  I’m not saying that Alex is the only person I have, or my solitary friend.  I’m just saying we love each other, a lot!

The point of this story is; I’m taking Alex to Australia to celebrate his graduation from college.  I’ve been planning and saving and bought our plane tickets about a week before I came to Sanibel.  This is why I am working at Starbucks.  Because I love him and want to give him something we can remember for all time.

LOVE!

Tweet this!

Because sometimes words aren’t enough

LOVE!

Tweet this!

Numbers

10 - days of vacation I have in Sanibel
9 - hours of sleep I hope to start on VERY soon
8 - times 3 = Cecilia’s age today! Happy Birthday Pookie!
7 - millions of Starbucks giftcards I’ve sold in the past week (may be an exaggeration)
6 - days til Christmas!
5 - songs I sang at karaoke tonight
4 - batches of oreo truffles I’ve made in the past week
3 - books I’m bringing on vacation, one contemporary (Searching for God Knows What), one classic (The Brothers Karamazov) and one informative (Blink)
2 - nails I’ve broken because working at Starbucks is NOT fingernail-friendly
1 - more package to send, eek!

Now to that special birthday girl in my life. First of all I LOVE YOU, so much! You are the reason for so many of my greatest memories and best stories. You can make me laugh like no one else. You bring humor, joy, fun and love to each and every day! Your unabashed enthusiasm for life is contagious! You are so brave and strong and independent! I am EVERYDAY thankful that you were born, for your life and your presence in my life!

24 things I love about you

1. I can hit you with my best shot and you’ll still love me
2. You can get up in front of people and sing a song all by yourself at karaoke!
3. You love the 80s more and better than anyone else EVER
4. You drag me out to various activities, despite my protest, and I ALWAYS, ALWAYS have a good time
5. You introduced me to Starbucks, nuff said
6. You love to read, making us MFEO
7. Baby, baby
8. Your affinity for movie-quoting
9. You know more about classic rock than any other 24-year-old, teach me your ways oh wise one
10. I can tell you anything
11. You do your best at your grown-up job (hello RAISE!)
12. The mix cds you make are, well I’m speechless
13. Your dedication to cheese
14. The fact that we can laugh for 20 minutes at 3:30 AM while watching Run’s House
15. We’ve remained friends despite several stressful European adventures
16. I can count on you when there is a board game involved
17. When you laugh and there is no sound
18. When you get all geared up to play golf, well, you’re just so cute!
19. You’re SO DANG WITTY, I’m happy to say I think it has rubbed off on me
20. You lived through the Tacky-Christmas-Sweater-Party Fiasco 2007 with me
21. Your love for D.C.
22. Your calves. I couldn’t resist, it would be a crying shame to not bring out how great your legs are, I’m sorry but it’s true
23. You’ve tried knitting like 568 times, I love that you keep trying! someday my friend, someday!
24. You rock my face off, plain and simple

LOVE!

Tweet this!

On nannying

Since it has been a while since I amused you all with stories of my other job, the one where I recover from the job where I give people their fix, I figured I’d share some tasty bits.  First of all, I found out that one of Loren’s friends has a crush on me.  Date for New Year’s?  check.  I found this interesting because, hello, how flattering! but also because when this certain boy came over to play the one time, he was rather adamant that the boys should be allowed to play in the basement because it is, after all, LOREN’S house, not MINE.  Yeah, he lost that battle.
This week has been a little tough.  Both boys are acting out in full surly mode.  Loren yelled at his father for 10 minutes last night, which has become regular programming on Thursday nights because that is when spelling studying goes down.  Alex is just being 14.  Neither has acted out while I’m in charge, but that maybe might be due to the fact that I supply them with the oreo truffles I made.  Today I threatened Alex about 973 times that if he did not do so-and-so, he would NOT get ANY MORE truffles.  I am not ashamed of bribing them or withholding candy to get what I want, as it has become abundantly clear that I am pretty much on the same level as they.  For example, Alex’s girlfriend came over.  It was eerie.  She loves ELF, Hannah Montana and chiding Alex.  So she’s basically a 14-year-old version of ME.  I like her.  Another example; Loren and I are “hanging” tonight as everyone is at Alex’s hockey game, and somehow, in a certain someone’s mind, that worked out so that Loren would only be alone for 1.5 hours (which is the maximum amount of time a 9-year-old is allowed to stay home alone, by law, apparently).  However, it has been 3 hours since anyone else has been in this house besides the two of us and I’m guessing it’ll be another couple of hours before anyone else comes home.  Before you go naming a basilica after me due to my martyr-ly actions, I decided to “hang” with Loren, because I really had nothing else going on and we’re doing things I like to do.  We’ve watched ELF, went to Whole Foods to get that tomato bisque I am addicted to, and are currently watched How the Grinch Stole Christmas, after not finding anything satisfactory on The Disney Channel (i.e. no Hannah Montana, That’s So Raven or The Suite Life).  I had planned on seeing The Kite Runner, but I can always go tomorrow.  It is days like these where I realize how perfect being a nanny is.  Watching silly Christmas movies, The Disney Channel and making people shopping at Whole Foods think I have a 9-year-old son makes a great day indeed!

On the other hand, I have five fingers.  Sorry.  But seriously, I think I saw Rob Huebel at Whole Foods.  I’m 75% sure it was him or someone who looks a lot like him and maybe famous.  or not.  He didn’t look happy and was with a teenage boy, which accounts for the 25% of uncertainty.  Who knows. 

LOVE!

Tweet this!

I think I’m due for another entry, mostly to move those silly pictures down so you can stop looking at them, HEY! stop scrolling down at them, focus!  new entry, it’s like a shiny object you can’t look away from.  come on now.

I feel like I’m moving around in a sort of fog, not a bad fog, but not a perky fog either, but, let’s face it, how many perky fogs have you encountered?  me?  not so many.  Let me talk about Starbucks, as always, because working there is my life.  Now I don’t exactly wake up each morning yearning to get to work, but I don’t wake up cursing my “day” job either, well, as long as you aren’t asking the minute my alarm goes off, because that minute totally doesn’t count.  Today, I got off work a bit early, and had to make a trip to the grocery store which is in the same shopping center as my Starbucks.  I usually forget to go to the store after I get off of work because my feet are screaming at me to do anything but put any weight or pressure on them.  I get home and then can’t go to the grocery store because I’ve passed the point of no return, the putting-on-of-pajamas.  Everyone knows once the pjs have been put on for the night, they STAY on.  And, no, I would NOT go to the grocery store in my pajamas, else my father find out and disown me.  Riester children never, ever even think of wearing pajamas anywhere besides home sweet home.  I’m pretty sure that’s the 11th commandment.  Okay, so TODAY, yes TODAY, I remembered to go to the store to buy a few things for dinner.  I first needed to stop by my car for some good reason that now escapes me, then made the trek from my parking spot WAY OUT THERE (because I am employed at said shopping center and feel this obligates me to park far away) back to the grocery store.  As I walked I encountered one of my beloved regular customers walking to her car.  She is a dear English lady who always comes in and gets her coffee in a mug, a toffee almond bar and a glass of water.  I like her for various reasons, she is always kind, she doesn’t use paper products when not necessary (I’m not a tree-hugger, dad) and she is from England!  Ever since I was the steady babysitter for an English family in our neighborhood, during high school, I’ve loved English people, those quirky sayings! that lovely accent! they call the toilet “the loo”!  need I go on?  because I saved the best for last, PRINCE WILLIAM!  I haven’t encountered this certain customer for a while, but I saw her in the parking lot, in passing.  She yelled, “hello friend” with that endearing accent and I’m pretty sure my whole body smiled!  I said hello back.  There were a few more niceties exchanged and off we went.  I started thinking about how much feeling plugged into your community does for you.  I always take community for granted.  At JBU, I would’ve missed out on the truly wonderful and priceless people of Siloam Springs had I not worked at the salon and church.  When I think back to my junior and senior years, I fondly recall my coworkers and precious customers and count myself blessed that I actually got to know the people of Siloam.  It is the same here.  Nothing makes a day brighter than our wonderful regulars.  Kurt is one of my favorites, always ready to chat and willing to listen to your responses.  No mere “I’m fine” will do for him.  He’s STILL talking about how ridiculous that tacky-sweater party was, enraged by the unfairness of it all.
I’m sure I would have gotten along great in Siloam and Clifton without getting to know each community.  I could have glided through without being noticed or without noticing, but I’d be a lesser person for it.

So maybe it’s not so foggy at the Clifton Starbucks after all.

LOVE!

Tweet this!

as promised

this was before we realized we’d be the tackiest sweaters there, see the excitement in my eyes, the brightness?

this was AT the party, see the dulling of the brightness, that’s because my heart was CRYING!

Anyhoo, on top of working a lot this week, Wednesday the furnace that heats the basement and main level of the house decided to poop out. And didn’t get fixed until today. You may think 50 degrees isn’t cold, but IT. IS! Last night I slept wearing thermal underwonders (top AND bottom), two pairs of pj pants, a hoodie and my smartwool socks wrapped in my dad’s VERY good below-some-impressive cold temperature sleeping bag, under both a flannel quilt (thanks mom!) and a down duvet. I was toasty. You know something you don’t think about when you’re heat works? How NOT FUN getting out of the shower is. BRRRR! And no present-wrapping got done, my poor frozen fingers! Thank the Lord for HEAT!

LOVE!

Tweet this!

Not the District of Columbia, Washington STATE!

Life is crazy, nothing new about that.  I’m about to end a 3 day stint working days and nights nannying on top of Starbucks, oh the insanity.  Thankfully I’ve been getting enough sleep, and let’s face it, that makes ALL the difference in the WORLD.  I would be currently pulling out tufts of hair, eating all the chocolate in the tri-state area and maybe crying a lot, yes I could see how there would be a lot of crying, I am quite prone to burst into tears in the best of circumstances, we all know that.
Let’s start with Saturday night and the Tacky-Christmas-Sweater-Theme-Party-Gone-Awry, oh-so-VERY-awry (remember that bike ride I took the boys on in Anchorage, the degree of awry beyond the most awry-ness ever?  yeah, this was almost as bad).  Cecilia and I take fun things to heart, and, silly us, we thought this would be fun.  Who doesn’t like a tacky Christmas sweater party?  Neither of us could find a suitably horrendous sweater, though admittedly we didn’t put forth the most devoted effort, so we resolved to make our OWN tacky sweater, mwahahaha.  I inherited a pretty heinous sweater vest from my dear great-aunt, and it become the victim of my choosing, or just because it was the only option.  Cecilia and I worked ever-so diligently and craftily on these sweaters, and the end product was divinely absurd, comical and completely tasteless.  We’re talking bells, pom-pom snowmen and felt stockings (pictures to be submitted at some later date, gotta find my cord thingie).  We show up at said party, after being approached by a homeless man on the street, to find about 10 people at the party, about 3 of which were wearing somewhat-tacky sweater, NONE of which matched our degree of disgustingness.  It was horrifying.  As the evening progressed, about 10 more people, and I’m being generous there, showed up with tacky sweaters.  The worst part was that the people who either didn’t get the memo or chose to purposefully be party-poopers were dressed impeccably.  superb.
Moving on to yesterday, when our district manager showed up at Starbucks.  It became VERY clear to me that I DO NOT know how to steam milk correctly, dear GOODNESS why is it so loud?  How could I possibly be SO irritating?  Who in the WORLD trained me?  That’ll make you nervous.  Then I’m thrown onto the bar with 5 drinks that are already half-made and must complete them WITH said district manager, who doesn’t really let you know if she’s added the shots or syrup, but, what does it matter, because all you can think is, “don’t screw up, don’t screw up, please don’t see how much I’m sweating, don’t screw up, don’t screw up.”  After all the customers have been helped, it’s time for quality check for Mandy, hip-hip-hooray!  To preface, I’ve been working ALL week on my caramel macchiato.  I’ve been making it wrong for forever (the horror!) apparently, but as I’d like to be actually good at what I do, have been doing my best to undo this terrible barista-training I received.  I’ve yet to make a caramel macchiato within the weight limits, eek.  Thankfully she doesn’t assign me to make a “cm” as we write it, only a cappuccino (so hard!) and white chocolate mocha.  After all is said and done, I’m no longer sweating bullets and the d.m. has said her goodbyes, I mention to my coworker that this day was more stressful than when the health inspector AND corporate showed up.  I hear laughter, look over the bar and see, why YES, the district manager IS still here and MOST DEFINITELY heard me.  Let’s just say I still have a job, but SHEESH.
And not 5 minutes ago, Loren and I had what may have been the most exasperating conversation in my life.  Apparently the difference between Washington, D.C. and Washington state is quite confusing.

Loren: I’m going to talk about the landmarks of D.C.
Mandy: Loren, your homework has nothing to do with D.C., you’re supposed to talk about Washington, the state.
Loren: The District in Washington?
Mandy: No, remember that there is a different state named Washington.
Loren: *blank stare* It’s right by us, right?
Mandy: *blank stare* No

I still don’t know if he gets it, at least he’s good at pretending he gets it.

I’m SOOO going to bed in an hour.

LOVE!

Tweet this!