Today I drank Starbucks

‘Tis true. On the way home from Pleasanton today, my dad stopped at a Starbucks and although I merely went into the shop with the fam as moral support, I couldn’t help but be drawn in by the promise of a Pumpkin Spice Latte. I’m not sure what I expected from it, but it was nothing like I thought a Pumpkin Spice Latte would be. Maybe I was hoping for liquid caffeinated pumpkin pie? Dunno. It wasn’t bad…I just don’t think I’ll ever pick one up again. Or set foot in a Starbucks again for that matter. Once again I shall reiterate…they may make tasty mixed coffees, but they have the most appalling regular coffee. And any place that can’t even care enough to make a decent cup of regular black coffee doesn’t deserve my business.

Oh don’t worry. I hold no delusions as to what my little boycott will accomplish. This is for my own personal peace of mind. What the rest of the world does is their own thang.

Remind me sometime to tell you about the Starbucks vs. TP Brewing Co story. It’s a hoot and I still have the legal documents to prove it.

Spent Saturday night in Pleasanton partying with all my Italian relatives in honor of my Auntie Dina and Uncle Eddie’s 50th wedding anniversary. Developed a quick, intense crush on our server Willy. Dined on some of the best damn food I’ve had in a while (I could sit in it, the shit was that damn good). Drank so much good wine that my urine turned purple (not really…but wouldn’t that be cool?!). Danced until I got a stitch in my side.

Oh it sounds like a wild affair, but really it wasn’t. I mean, not from my POV. The festivities began with a quick vow-renewal ceremony (and apparently the festivities kicked off for a few relatives before then, who’d spent the previous two hours in the hotel bar partaking of martinis and watching sports), and immediately moved on to the banquet room where we chose our tables and sat down at the most beautiful spread ever. I’m a sucker for the whole soft-white-lit-candles-on-an-oval-mirror centerpiece. That kind of shit just makes a room.

We ended up sitting with my Uncle Randy and my Aunt Carolyn, who people whom I absolutely enjoy and adore. By “we” I mean myself, my parents, and Cutter. Kevin had to work (ha! Welcome to adulthood, dude). Uncle Jeff and Aunt Patty arrived shortly thereafter and took the last two chairs at our table, bringing with them my little cousin Angela who is the CUTEST DAMN THING ON THE PLANET. I know I have a picture of her on my camera somewhere. Seriously. It should be against the law to be that damn cute. She’s going to be a heartbreaker when she grows up.

Anyway! The food arrived in quick succession, and every last bit of it was delightful. The salad was one of those walnut-bleu cheese-wacky array of strange greens affairs with a raspberry vinaigrette that I wanted to just dip myself into like a pungent hot tub of slick love. No sooner had we finished the salad than Willy the Handsome Server whisked away our empty plates and replaced them with full ones laden with tender slices of perfectly pinkish sliced filet mignon, herbed chicken breast, twice-baked potato I could have made love to, and the most delicious green beans and carrots EVAH. The food was so good, I ate it slowly so I could savor every bite. Honestly, it was like I hadn’t tasted quality before in my life. I’m pretty sure that if God had a flavor, it’d be akin to this meal.

Dessert kicked off at the same time as the dancing portion of the evening, so while my folks and some of the older crowd shook their groove thangs, I inhaled the little chocolate cup of mousse and sipped on a variety of wines that my mum had brought with her. Of course we were rockin’ the Acorn Sangio like the good people we are. It went SO well with the beef, as did the Nine Gables Barbera that was so fucking eucalyptus, I almost sprouted fur and a cute black nose. I love it when a wine exhibits strong eucalyptus characteristics. I think it’s such an underrated scent/taste, it’s sad.

The highlight of the night came when, while out on the dance floor already embarrassing myself to “Hot in Herre”, I managed to coax my grandmother out of her chair to shake her rump to “Baby Got Back.” I don’t think she even knew what she was dancing to, but it was a sight to behold. I felt kinda bad for corrupting my poor sweet white-haired granny. Well. Not really. The woman could use a little corruption every now and then.

Over the course of the evening, a lot more dancing took place, plus the cutting of a very beautiful and delicious cake, some smoking of Frank Sinatra cigars Randy brought, and eventually the end of the night. Cutter and I were sharing a hotel room, and we got there as quickly as we could ’cause we were both just so damn tired. Cutter was stoked to be staying at a Hilton. I don’t know why. So he wanted to spend as much time in his big lush hotel bed as possible. I guess I shoulda been kind and let him take the bed near the window, but oh well. I’m older and I suck.

Apparently quite a few folks left the hotel after the party to go clubbing. Part of me wishes I was with them, but mostly I’m glad I was in bed catching some z’s. Made it easier to wake up 8:30 this morning for room service. Pancakes, fruit and coffee…mmmmmm…

Funny enough, I actually got home today with a load of energy. Did laundry, dishes, some homework, my Geology quiz on the chemical properties of minerals…I’m feeling quite accomplished. Now if I can just squeeze in a few hours of sleep tonight, I’ll be good.

Pictures from this weekend are forthcoming…just like everything else on this site. Honestly, how I’ve retained a readership is beyond me…