Taco Bell Should Not Exist

"Beef taco, bean and cheese burrito.  Extra hot sauce, please."

I have a great affinity for burritos.  If I had to choose one food to eat for the rest of my life, it would probably be a burrito.  The sheer variety of delectable options is reason enough - a good carne asada can knock your socks off and a machaca is one of the best breakfasts out there.

However, my personal favorite is the bean and cheese.  Some people may order a straight bean burrito, but in my opinion, this is not the way to go.  A bean burrito without cheese is like a writer without a pen.  It just doesn't make sense.  It is monotonous, regardless of how tasty the beans are.  The cheese is necessary to add another texture, to introduce a new layer of flavor, to bring balance to the Force.  A bean and cheese is true deliciousness in its simplest form.  Because of this simplicity, the quality of the main ingredient must be outstanding.  Good beans can often be hard to find.

There is a shack a few blocks from my house.  It is shabby and painted orange and yellow in the garish Tijuana style; the menu board has been corrected with permanent marker and the taped-on intercom primarily conveys static.  Out of this place comes the best beans I have ever tasted.  I have no clear idea how the cooks make them, I assume they use delightful ingredients such as magic, lard, and salt.  In general, they produce consistently fabulous Mexican food - did I mention the beef tacos? holy cow - and I have tried quite a bit of it.  But no matter what I order and eat, I am never so contented afterwards as when I finish a bean and cheese burrito.

Coffee for Hannah

Hannah just shouted at me to write her something.  So because she's my cousin and I love her...
*

I really have no idea how this happened.
Because I don't drink coffee.
I have had it, yes, when I'm with friends and we're at a coffee shop.  But I don't make a point of drinking it.

 --

The first time I ever purposefully ordered coffee was in Edinburgh.  Betsy and Hannah and Auntie M and I had just finished the tramp down from the castle and were cold and hungry, so we ducked into a pub and sat down.  We requested sticky toffee pudding (because if you go to Scotland and don't try sticky toffee pudding, you are an unintelligent being, probably more ape than human) and because I was in a new country and feeling moderately brave, I ordered a mocha.  It was delivered in a tall (blue?) mug, with a saucer catching the ambitious drops that wanted to be drips.  We ate the (phenomenal) sticky toffee pudding and I drank about half of the mocha.  All I seem to remember about it was the chocolate being extremely rich.  And it was from a pub in Scotland.

The second coffee based drink I ordered probably doesn't even count.  We were in the van on the way back from the shoot at Powell's when Rowan decided to take us to Bipartisan.  So to Bipartisan we went.  Considering our group consisted of over a dozen photographers, there was a bit of difficulty just getting through the door.  But we crowded in and the air was cool and the wood floor was rough.  Being a newcomer in the land of coffee, I asked Justin what was good and he ordered us each a mocha milkshake.  It was sweet and intense and bitter all at once.

The third coffee was from Fourbucks (a word which here means Starbucks).  I discovered Clari was studying at the one approximately 15 minutes away from where I was staying.  Since it was January and the last time I saw her was in July, I found it absolutely necessary to crash her study party.  We sat and chatted until Rachel arrived and said something along the lines of "What are you doing here?!"  At which point, I gave her a big hug and the three of us hung out and caught up.  After an hour or so, we figured we should probably actually buy something so we wouldn't get kicked out.  Clari texted me from ten feet away while Rachel and I stood in line and I paid for a caramel macchiato.

The fourth coffee I bought was at Mission ConneXion.  (The X makes it more cool and famous.)  That event deserves an entire post to itself, but the relevant part is when Amber and I were getting hungry and didn't have any food with us.  We wandered aimlessly for awhile and then discovered we were near the coffee cart.

"I kind of want coffee.  And I barely even like coffee.  Do you want coffee?"
"Sure."

It took us a month or two to decide, but eventually we quit messing around - she had a white chocolate and raspberry mocha and I had an Irish cream (flavored syrup) latte.  We discovered an unoccupied cubbyhole between the bookshelves, so we claimed it and read awkward titles of books and laughed and drank our coffee and talked about random things.

 The fifth cup of coffee was a Kicker.  Lauren and Amber and I were spending the day together, going to the bank, looking at the saddles at Coastal, eating sandwiches, and generally having randomly awesome adventures.  We dropped off the cookies, and after we went to the library, it was decided that I needed to experience Dutch Bros.  The only hard part was finding our way to the right one.  We did get there, though.  Once again, I relied on guidance of others to choose my beverage.  Once again, I had good advice.  I think I like Irish cream (flavored syrup).


--

And now here I sit, crunching salted almonds, typing away and sipping coffee sweetened with vanilla sugar.  No cream, no chocolate, no milk.  Granted, the coffee/sugar ratio is probably around 3/1.  But I voluntarily poured it for myself.  I chose to drink coffee when I had other options.  Weird.

Commas and Fluff

Living Like Weasels

I like this essay.
Like is a weak word.
It should be added to the list of evil words.
Anyway, my point was this is an essay I enjoy and appreciate, so I wanted to write a moderately intelligent and thoughtful response.
But my brain is totally fried.
Fluffed, rather.
My fluffs, who look something like this, are now fighting amongst themselves.
A group of them decided to form a band and began walking back and forth, banging on drums.
(Headache?  Uh, yeah.)
Being tired, the others weren't too happy about their comrades' decision, so they started chucking popcorn.
And now they're all running around and whacking each other with pillows.
It's actually kind of entertaining.
Maybe I can get something done while they're distracted.
The thing that strikes me most about this piece is not, as you might expect, the content.  What I see is the language.  For example, just look at her comma placement.

I have been reading about weasels because I saw one last week. I startled a weasel who startled me, and we exchanged a long glance.

Twenty minutes from my house, through the woods by the quarry and across the highway, is Hollins Pond, a remarkable piece of shallowness, where I like to go at sunset and sit on a tree trunk.

Listen to the rhythm, the pattern.  One clean, straightforward sentence.  I have been reading about weasels because I saw one last week.  Factual, isn't it?  Straight to the point.  Informative.  And then she expands on the thought, but she does it with a certain style.  I startled a weasel who startled me, and we exchanged a long glance.  There's a distinct pause when she adds the extra clause.
Hey, see the rhyme I just made?
Totally on purpose.
Not really.
Also, I just misspelled rhyme.
This means I should probably go to bed.
But I'm too lazy.
Getting ready for said location is entirely too much work.
Take note of the third sentence.  Twenty minutes from my house, through the woods by the quarry and across the highway, is Hollins Pond, a remarkable piece of shallowness, where I like to go at sunset and sit on a tree trunk.  Trim it down to the heart and you have Twenty minutes from my house is Hollins Pond.  Throw in a modifier to make it more personal: where I like to go at sunset and sit on a tree trunk.  It's already sounding more restful, isn't it?  Sunset, it's quiet, peaceful...  The next addition gives a sense of location, as well as an idea of the juxtaposition of nature and modern civilization: through the woods by the quarry and across the highway.  And what, exactly, is there?  Simply a remarkable piece of shallowness.  It's an unexpected, underrated refuge.

Now I and my fluffs are going to bed because I'm too tired to think any more.  So this is an abrupt ending.

p.s.  I just found the part where she says ensconced in the lap of lichen and it struck me as absolutely lovely.  I appreciate alliteration.  Good night.