On being 30, and a caffeine addict.

(This actually happened a while ago but I was reminded of it again today.)

Right after I had my 30th birthday, I commented to my (slightly older) friend that it was strange how I'd been drinking more water than I used to drink every day, yet my face was still really dry. She simply looked at me and said, in all seriousness, "It's STARTING."

Digression: honey makes a great natural moisturizing face mask. End of digression.

In other news, I am slowly becoming Starbucks' bitch. I hate that it's so close to my office and that there is no Peets anywhere in the area and that the Jitters & Shakes stand closes shop around 10:30am. I hate it. There are days when I just need a hot jolt of caffeine. And I keep getting gift cards to Starbucks. So that's where I go.

I can't stand their plain coffee so I usually opt for an espresso drink. At this particular Starbucks, they don't even brew espresso, really brew it - they just push a button and the espresso comes out of the machine, much like the hot chocolate machine at 7-11s. To distract myself from that disappointing discovery, I have been trying to come up with new tongue-twister concoctions to stump the "barristas" ("toffee nut half-caf non-fat grande latte!" "sugar-free vanilla dry non-fat tall cappuccino!"). Or I just order the evil caramel macchiato and plod back to the office, head hung in shame.

The other day I was waiting in line and the woman in front of me ordered something that sounded like a line from Lady Marmalade, which made me start singing a Starbucks version of that song in my head ("mocha frappa ya ya dada..."), which then got me thinking about Moulin Rouge, which I disliked with a passion.

Sigh. I hate that place.