Champion colleague

This morning I was walking through my office building alongside my gentlemanly coworker, Carlos, who was carrying my heavy bag for me.

As we were walking down the hallway, me continuosly yawning as if I were entered in some yawning competition (the prize in this imaginary contest would be a nap, a glorious nap), the smell of coffee wafted toward us from some magical office hidden from our view.

I didn't actually notice right away, because more air was going through my wide-open, yawning mouth than my nose.

Carlos, however, quickly picking up on the Kona air freshener, said, "Ahh, follow the rainbow."

I must tell you, I found this to be hysterical.

Yawning was briefly interrupted by laughter. Followed by more general sleepiness until Carlos gifted me with some java to drink.

He carried my bag, made me laugh, and then gave me coffee. On Monday, no less, when really, everyone kind of gets a temporary free pass from the extra niceties. If you don't have a Carlos at your office, you should probably find one.

Car troubles

I'd like to welcome you all to my first LIVE blog post! Well, sort of live.

What I mean by LIVE is that I just toted this here laptop out to my car to

yep, you guessed it,

inventory the items of my car! Yay!

Per a reader's (hi Dave!) request, I spent a good ten-twelve minutes clearing the mountain of snow off my car, then pulled it into the garage to clean it out. So, back by popular demand, here's the list of items that have accumulated in my car over the past several months:

In the main cavity of the car:

• a lamp
• wallet
• 6 CD cases
• 1 pair of shoes
• 3 receipts (one dated as late as Sep. 26)
• applesauce container and lid
• 11 used napkins/tissues/paper towels
• 6 unused napkins/tissues/PT's--which did remain in the car for future nose blowing
• Greater Kansas City "Street Finder" atlas
• my medical insurance info (safe place, there, underneath the seat, buried under:)

• Wonder Woman notebook
• various food, water bottle, and straw wrappers
• 1 (of 2, total) water bottle(s)
• lip gloss, interestingly not entirely frozen

Also. Yeah, we're not done here yet. That was just the front passenger seat. Did I not remind you to get a snack before reading this? My bad. In the rest of the car there was:

• 2 pairs of gloves
• bracelet
• 12 earrings
• Kleenex pack
• $1.11 in change
• industrial staples (Dad put those in there, btw...But, no, I haven't removed them since summer)
• bobbi pins
• hair ties
• 3 scarves
• 2 sweatshirts
• another tube of lip gloss, seemingly a little more frozen than the other, Sprite-flavored, one
• 2 dresses
• 2 hangers
• hat
• optical mouse
• 2 newspapers
• lotion
• sinus rinse bottle
• chapstick
• food processor
• 1 pair of sweatpants
• 7 cups
• 2 pens
• pastry bag with partially eaten donut (hi, Caitlin :)
• marker
• 18 socks
• 2 pieces of gum
• what I believe to be, but cannot be entirely sure it is: a yellow m&m
• a "Warhead" candy, stuck to the little "well" on the door, aka a door handle
• quality check sticker from...something...clothing, I assume
• tag from car dealership when I had service done on the car (this summer)
• straw
• coffee sleeve

And...there are paper towels in one of the cup holders. I will not tell you why they are there because believe it or not some things do embarrass me, and besides, if you contact Caitlin she will be more than happy to exploit me and my ways, I'm sure.

Um. But we're not done here. Oh no. I haven't told you about what I found in the trunk. Hold onto your hats, here we go!:

• a backpack (full of items which I am not going to inventory)
• a bra ;)
• 2 muffin tins
• cat litter
• 4 cups
• Cherry Coke can
• bowl (been there since Nov. 2, when I brought candy to the newsroom for election night. Maybe Nov. 3, if it was after midnight when I left the newsroom. Is that a little better? Saving face at all here?)
• microwaveable plate with lid
• green apron
• piece of tulle ribbon
• Charlie Brown notebook (not to be confused with the Wonder Woman notebook found in the main vehicle cavity), with notes inside from the Supreme Court case I covered--holla!
• 2 parking tickets (shhh)
• more paper--mostly school stuff
• 12 newspapers
• 2 (unused) napkins
• desk organizer tray

And, issues of the following magazines (keep in mind I am part of a journalism program, so the majority of these were free--if you're scratching your head at some of the titles):

Endless Vacation

Columbia Woman

Ladies' Home Journal

Better Homes and Gardens

Farm Journal

News China

Information Week

Columbia Magazine

New York

Communication Theory

Global Journalist (Univ. of Missouri production! Art Director=our very own DB reader, Mary!)

Milwaukee Magazine

The Week

Real Simple

Rolling Stone

Trust

Harvard Business Review

MBQ

The New Yorker

Emerging Photographer

Ahhh. So, my reflections on this particular cleaning session. Well, I have to say,

and I'm being honest here,

it wasn't as bad as I thought.

Quit laughing, Dave.

It has been worse. Don't believe me? Read this and then this and then cast your vote.

That could be thanks to Caitlin and Riley's pre-cleaning session, mentioned in a December post.

Also, I honestly thought I needed to buy more socks. I was just telling Mom I would like some more, and I only had four pairs with me in Chicago. Looks like I'll be good to go for my upcoming restricted-spending plan (stay tuned).

And, my meal choices may well be expanded if I bother to take some of the above items into my apartment. J-school friends, anyone up for muffins? Cupcakes? Anything requiring a food processor? I'm also coming back with a kitchen table, so we don't have to eat on the floor anymore! Yay!

Here's to second semester, with new cuisine and a--MORE than likely--still messy car. Cheers.

Airport Celeb Sighting

I have a shirt that says, "Pour Que Tu M'Aimes Encore" on it in hot pink letters. For those of you non-Celine freaks, that is the name of her all time biggest French hit.

I was wearing this shirt at the airport today and the barista at the Starbucks who waited on me looked at it and began to read it aloud.

"Celine?," he said.

"Yes, I love her!"

And he says, wait for it...

"You look like her."

I said to the guy, "she's not exactly blonde," and he said, "no, but your face looks like hers."

NO I DO NOT look like celine dion, but if he wants to hit on me by saying it, I will take it! Perfect start to my day! I called my dad and woke him up at 6am to tell him. Needless to say, HIGHLIGHT of my day.

3 Hollas--aka Holla Holla Holla

Can I get a holla for Bill Bryson?

My neighbor and dear friend Carly (who will be home from Turkey in 6 days, holla!!) lent me his book, A Walk in the Woods, last year, and there were multiple occasions while reading it that I was lost in hysteria.

I was at a coffee shop with Riley and had my first outburst, and Riley, who is usually unaffected by my volume level/general-making-people-uncomfortableness, looked at me and asked, "Are you done?" I embarrassed the poor boy, and to be honest, I think he was more embarrassed for me.

Then, less than 48 hours later, Reggers and I were again reading side by side (yes, we are that naturally precious; and it doesn't hurt that we are practically twins) at home, and I reached a particular sentence--preceded by pages of hilarious paragraphage--that had me unable to do anything but laugh for two solid minutes. Riley demanded to know, "What is wrong with you??"

I'm telling you, people. Hilarious. I knew that I would become quickly addicted (and most of his books are about traveling and world/nationwide adventures, which I don't get to do a lot of, so I get jealous hearing about it), so I have avoided his collection for over a year now. But I came across The Lost Continent in the library two days ago, and caved and checked it out. Two years ago I read four Anne Lamott books in a row (with one Don Miller book in the middle--holla!) because I was, let's face it and go ahead and admit it, addicted. The obsession just swelled and I couldn't stop until I was finished reading every piece of nonfiction she had every published. Check. on that little to do item.

So here it comes. The Bill Bryson obsessive reading extravaganza madness rampage. Join me. (But read all of Anne Lamott and then Don Miller's books first. Then join me.)

Birthday Boy Brad (1 day late)

Okay, Bailey made a big mistake. So yesterday was Brad's birthday!!!!!!!!!! Happy birthday, Brad!!!!!!!! Well I totally intended to make yesterday's post in honor of Brad, and I did not forget that it was his birthday, and I told him happy birthday, I just forgot to make the post all about him. But I had full intentions of doing so. So I know all of you are rolling your eyes at all the Brad talk in every post, but here are some of my favorite Brad memories. An anthology, if you will. This is an extremely abbreviated version, mind you:

One night, after the store was closed to customers, I was in the back doing dishes, and Brad was out front, screaming “My Heart Will Go On.” When he finished his concert, he said, “I am going on tour!”

Another night after we had clocked out, we made a French press of coffee and went out on the patio to drink it together. It was surprisingly cold, so we grabbed all of the sweatshirts that other employees had left behind and layered them on us. Of course, chance would have it, that I threw on the two sweatshirts that were five sizes too big for me, and he grabbed the size three junior girls sweatshirt and vest. “I feel so hot right now,” he said, and refused to switch with me.

I have perhaps a few inappropriate customer crushes, but there is one in particular who Brad likes to make fun of me for the most. Whenever this guy comes into the store, Brad will disappear to the back, and say things like, "Ooh, Mike*, you're so sexy, lookin' good tonight, [etc.]," so that I can hear it through the headset (that we wear for drive thru customers) while I am trying to talk to this guy. I have gotten used to this, so I will take my headset off right away because I cannot keep a straight face while he is saying these things. When said crush takes his seat with his drink, Brad will come out on the floor and pretend to reprimand me, "Bailey, I'm gonna need you to keep your headset on...[eye roll]...Yeah, thanks."

*not his real name

Love you, Braden, here's to many more b-days!

Supervision

Today's post involves my friend Karl. Karl is a fellow barista of mine, and he's fantastic and precious. Now I know that perhaps I overuse the term "precious," but really if there's one word to sum up Karl and/or his family, it is "precious."

Karl reminds me a lot of my baby bro, Riley. They are both the babies of their families, very smart, interested in literature, bright eyed and bushy tailed, musically inclined, hang out with cute, smart girlfriends, etc. etc. Both of them are just downright pleasant and fun to be around. Karl graduated from high school this weekend, and today I attended his graduation party.

Now. Karl's family. Karl's dad (Eric)? Pastor. My dad? Pastor. Eric comes into Starbucks just about every other day, at least, always pleasant, kind, but certainly with a vein of sarcasm in him--today when I said I needed to use his bathroom, he said "we don't have one." Then upon entering their bathroom (because for those of you who don't pick up on sarcasm very well, they do in fact have a bathroom), I was pleased to find a vintage South Shore Line train poster featuring the Lake Michigan Dunes, holla!! But I digress. Recap: Eric. Sweet. Loving. Nonjudgmental, Jesus mentor, coffee lover, sense of humor. Loves all baristas.

BONNIE. Wow, Bonnie (Karl's mom). Sweet beyond sweet. Seasoned culinary artist. Published author. Ray of sunshine. Sweet. Pea. Bonnie.

Today I had the pleasure of meeting another member of the Karl family. G'pa. That's right. Bonnie's daddy.

Picture with me this: A van pulls up to Starbucks (I was working, behind the counter, to help you visualize your perspective here). Woman driving (presumably Bonnie), older gentleman exits the passenger door, plaid jacket, i.e. his Sunday usual (I assume, and for the sake of this story we're going to assume this is the case because it's better that way). Van drives away (this is an important detail, take notes). Older man saunters in, heads directly to the newspaper sale rack. Eyes the local publication, gives it a little sneer, says quietly, "they said you guys would have the New York Times," and returns it to the top of the stack. He shifts his attention to the excessive coffee menu above my head, and I divert the man's attention back to the paper. "Are you looking for the NY Times?" I ask. "What?" He didn't hear me. ... I explain that we usually sell out pretty quickly on Sunday mornings, and that we are probably out. He is hardly listening, he's over it. He wants to talk coffee. "What's the difference between a mocha and a latte?" I explain. He has trouble hearing me, we take our time getting to our decision. He decides on a latte. I ask if he would like any syrup, vanilla, hazelnut. "What do you like?" he asks. I set him up with a traditional latte, sans syrup.

"Do you guys know Karl?"

"Yes, we love Karl!"

"I'm his grandpa."

"HI!!!!!!!"

Precious man sits with latte and inferior local paper, girl baristas whisper about his cuteness. Approximately 15 minutes pass. Old man gets up to leave. Gives some sort of "holla" goodbye greeting. Okay, so he didn't say "holla," but I wish. More excited chattering about the cuteness. (It is at this point that I stop and wonder, "how is he going to get home? I didn't see the van come back to retrieve him. Hmm...")

...Time passes, frappuccinos are made, business as usual. In walks Eric. Uh oh. Where's grandpa? Eric asks, "Is Karl's grandpa still here?" (He actually said that. "Is Karl's grandpa here." Not, "is my father in law here?") Uh oh. We're in trouble. We didn't watch him!!! "No..." my voice trails off. Eric considers this, turns to leave. This is odd, Eric never comes in just to say hi, unless he is picking up Karl from work (go ahead and say it: "awww").

"Did you lose Grandpa?" I ask.

This is the BEST part of the story, pay attention.

Eric looks at me, his face so hard to read I have no idea what's about to come out of his mouth. It was part dad, part pastor, part customer-who-loves-all-his-son's-coworkers, part silly, and part Bailey's-a-little-bit-terrified-of-Eric-right-now-and-she-doesn't-know-what-to-do-with-that-because-she-never-thought-she'd-feel-that-way. After cocking his chin in towards his neck, at an angle, with a father-to-daughter, "Bailey, you know you shouldn't steal cookies from the cookie jar" look towards me, he says,

"Did you lose Grandpa?"

For a split second I honestly thought I was in trouble (kind of like the way I thought maybe there wasn't a bathroom in his home. Just kidding! Man, you people who can't read sarcasm are so easy!). "I just let grandpa walk out of the store, I knew I didn't see the van outside, I should have made sure he knew the way home!" When Eric laughed, I became relieved, but let's be honest. I wasn't entirely sure Grandpa was okay until I saw him later at Karl's graduation party, in his precious cardigan, holding a glass coffee mug in his aged, wise hands, not a care in the world.

Le Sigh...the mistakes I sometimes make...

Remember when I locked my keys in my car, while it was still running? Yeah, unfortunately so do I.

Thankfully, my (brand new) dear friend John, barista at the Starbucks where I parked, let me use the store phone for as long as I needed, called his brother who was a locksmith, and gave me my drink and petite vanilla bean scones (mmmmmm) for free.

I put all the cash I had in his tip jar.

Thank you, John, for all your help today. At Starbucks, we give out "MUG" Awards (for Moves of Uncommon Greatness). John, I don't have a MUG award on me, but here is a picture of a Starbucks mug that I found on a google image search--we'll call that good enough for now.*

*And Brad, you always get a MUG award from me, for being my favorite barista, and my bestie.