With whipped cream.

Starbucks has decent hot chocolate. Emphasis on the word "hot." Furthermore, the the more time I spend in there, the better I can ignore the overpowering scent of ground coffee.

I still think the only good use for coffee beans is to clear your sinuses at a perfume counter.

The pungent aroma of coffee aside, I spent a pleasant hour at a Starbucks today getting to know one of the girls I visit teach. I don't feel like meeting new people is a talent of mine, so I'm always pleased as punch when a first meeting passes enjoyably. It's not that I have a tendency to dislike new people. Quite the opposite. I just always worry that they won't like me. Yes, I know. I have confidence issues. I'm a work in progress.

In my first linguistics class, many semesters ago, we looked at a case study about the differences between how boys and girls communicate. Boys communicate vertically. They bond by one-upping each other. Girls, on the other hand, communicate horizontally. They bond by highlighting the things they have in common. Personally, I love being a girl. There are few joys to match swapping stories about super creepers and understanding exactly what someone else means when they talk about how tight-knit and familial small student bodies are. (Confession: Sometimes when I'm feeling lonely, I'll put my senior class shirt on, the one with everybody's signatures, and pretend that those people are with me. Well, some of them. The important ones.)

As R. and I stood to part ways, I handed her the reindeer Pez dispenser I'd brought as a Christmas offering. I was actually a little worried when I bought it that she might not like it, but it turns out I fretted for naught. I've never seen someone so excited to receive a Pez dispenser. Christmas cheer done been brought up in hurr.

I blame the internet for my occasionally uncontrollable urge to speak like a gangsta. For shizzle.

Listening to: "The Cowboy's Christmas Ball" by The Killers
Reading: The Golden Compass by Philip Pullman