I can now be characterized by redundancy and inconsistency. Well may you think “So, what has changed? Why are you writing about something we already know?” My unoriginal, clichéd answer to this: “Because that’s who I am.” Marvelous, isn’t it?
I got knocked out of my blogging groove (Or rather, got unstuck from the rut) for a few months, but as of this moment, am back with a vengeance. If my reader-ship drops off slightly in the next five minutes, I understand and hold it against no one. Your waywardness may be forgiven on account of my randomidity. Also, the fact that I make up words when the occasion suits me. Now I am a neologist.
And now, ladies and gentlemen…..
Purpose The First: Disproving the Addiction Theory.  (The coffee one, that is… not the phone one… or the facebook one)
Yes, you read that right. I have come, ready and armed, to my longsuffering computer-blogosphere-interwebcyberspace-world to stand once and for all, proclaiming to the teeming masses (bring me your poor, your weary, etc) that I am addicted to practically nothing. If you have put up with my blog for very long, then you are thinking “Ah, but I KNOW i read a post once in which you admitted addiction.”  Well, yes, that is true. But since then, things have changed. I have changed, in fact, and only slightly for the better. I wish I was addicted to coffee. At least then I could faultily name it a disease, and be justified in spending copious amounts of money on overpriced liquid happiness, calling it “medication” and “necessary.” With many sad sighs, I admit to myself that I am not addicted, and thus remain unjustified. However, this doesn’t stop me from vigilantly marching myself and others down to Starbucks on a fairly regular basis.
Nonetheless, a defense is necessary, because my lattes have been taunting me lately. It’s as if every time I make one, there is a voice whispering, teasing, and trying to convince me that every macchiato or americano is simply a step into the way of addiction. I think it’s become a subliminal thing, because I have three or four people who believe I’m addicted, and have even tried to convince me that I am.
Fact: I’ve gone three days this week without coffee…. No headaches, no cravings.
Fact: I got decaf the last three times I went to Starbucks, with no ill effects. (well, mostly-- life without caffeine is like… sleep!)
Fact: I do not spend every last cent on coffee, as a true addict would do, nor do I scour the gutters searching for quarters to spend on caffeine.
Fact: If I was addicted, I wouldn’t be picky about flavor and lattes and such. I would just be drinking the strong black stuff that my papa manages to consume by the pot.
Fact: Yes, it’s true that  “I love coffee, I love tea, I love the java jive and it loves me.” (line courtesy of the King Sisters, circa 1941) This does not signify addiction.
Fact: Denial does not always mean addiction.
Well, that deals with that. I am clearly not addicted. :)

Purpose The Second: Explanation for you Observant people.
Four or five of my 205 facebook friends have noticed that I am, magically, gone from facebook. (I admit that I am not thrilled with the ratio) Here lies the explanation… Yes, I did de-activate my facebook. No, I didn’t get angry and delete you as a friend. Yes, I’ll be back eventually. No, I may not be able to last until my goal-date of December 4. Yes, I will post plenty of pictures once I’m back on. I think that covers that. 

Sleep is a symptom of caffeine deprivation.  

The time has come. Though I have often argued that I am not addicted to anything, least of all caffeine, I am now proven wrong. I can picture it now: I stand there, adamantly stating that "I am NOT addicted to caffeine! I simply enjoy coffee once in a while. Maybe I love it, but certainly I'm not addicted." In my mind, I can see various people with whom I have argued this.... And here, with the strong potential of witnesses, I admit it. You were right. I was wrong.

ADDICTION, Noun:

an abnormally strong craving 

(now that part, I understand)

the state of being abnormally tolerant to and dependent on something

that is psychologically or physically habit-forming

(Who, me?)

the state of being enslaved to a habit or practice or 

to something to such an extent 
that its cessation causes severe trauma. 

(does a two day headache count as severe trauma?)

The condition of being habitually or 
compulsively occupied with or or involved in something.

("habitually" is such an ugly word...) 

  need for and use of a habit-forming substance
characterized by tolerance and
by well-defined physiological symptoms upon withdrawal.

(physiological. Now there's a word I haven't heard in a while)

I know, I went a bit overboard on the definitions. But how could I resist the dozens of fantastic adjectives and adverbs provided? To pass up the chance to use such words would have been a travesty.  And there you have it. The last two days have given me what may be the worst headache of my life. It started easily enough.. I woke up one morning, and didn't make coffee. Alas, what consequences that lack of an action brought! I assumed that it would fade eventually. 15 hours later, I hoped that sleep would assuage it. 8 hours after that, I faintly wondered when it would go away. 10 more hours passed, and I knew it wouldn't. A triple shot caramel macchiato barely touched it. Two more shots of espresso, and it vanished. I, being the logical, calmly thinking person that I am... (ha!), know exactly what you other logical people are thinking... "Shouldn't she NOT have had coffee if she knows it's the cause of headaches?" Well, in fact, I was having coffee to be sure that it was indeed a caffeine headache. After all, it could have been a brain tumor. Or possibly a concussion. Perhaps a subdural hemorrhage. Maybe even cardiac arrest. (well, maybe not that, but you get the idea)

However, I am now nearly certain that caffeine is my culprit. Or rather, the lack thereof. No more will I fruitlessly argue that I have never been addicted to caffeine. Now, I have a choice to make: I can either deal with the headaches for a few days (hopefully not weeks) and then make sure I don't drink coffee every day, OR... I can go on shamelessly savoring latte after latte. Grande. Venti. Whatever size I want.

Sadly, though, I am one of those people who hates the idea of being that dependent on anything, let alone a lame little chemical addiction. Ergo, my decision:  Somehow, some way, I will have to reduce my macchiato happiness to only every other day. I am still trying to decide if Paris is caffeinated enough to also be banned.(perish the thought!)

For those of you who are not weeping for me by now, here are some quotes to bring it home...

No one can understand the truth until he drinks 

of coffee's frothy goodness.  

~Sheik Abd-al-Kadir

A morning without coffee is like sleep. 

Decaffeinated coffee is the devil's blend.

The morning cup of coffee has an exhilaration about it 

which the cheering influence of the afternoon 

or evening cup of tea cannot be expected to reproduce. 

~Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr.

Need I say more?

 

It's three in the morning... You really think that I could come up with a good title at this hour?

I have nothing else creative left in me. It is 3:10 a.m, and I should be sleeping. When I get tired, I become over-contemplative. Also, words like "emotional" and "insecure" and "moody" come to mind... Basically, when I'm lacking in sleep, mood swings are sure to follow.
I've been thinking through so many things recently, that I'm not even sure what to blog about. Of course, that's never stopped me before, so I'll give it my best shot. I have enjoyed blissful absolute silence for the last three hours, and hopefully will be able to actually sleep when I'm done here.
Anyone who talks to me moderately often already knows this, but for those of you who don't.... Recently, my uncle edited a puritan devotional, called "Voices From The Past."  As it just so happens, it's out of stock everywhere. Also, it recently made the CVBBS current bestsellers list... But those are extraneous facts that aren't pertinent to what i'm saying. (I just am tickled pink about the whole bestsellers thing, so what better place to say it than on my blog?) And now for the semi-pertinent facts... I got the book for Christmas, and have been reading out of it. A few days ago, I read something that was actually just what I needed at the time. Apparently, it's still exactly what I need... Why else would it come to mind at this time of night?

So, here are a few parts of it.

      But seek ye first the kingdom of God,

and his righteousness,

 and all these things will be added unto you.

Matthew 6:33

Until we get our hearts out of the world, how easily our hearts are carried away with the thoughts of earthly concerns. Until we can separate and purge our spirits, how we mingle our prayers with many ridiculous thoughts.....we should always labour to get our hearts above the world into the presence of God, as if we were by Him in heaven, and wholly swallowed up with His glory. Though our bodies are on earth, our spirits should be in heaven. Until we get above the mists of the world, we can see nothing of clearness and comfort; but when we can get God and our hearts together, then we can see there is much in the fountain, though nothing in the stream; and though little on earth, yet we have a God in heaven. This is our great aim, to be with God in heaven. His residence is there, and we seek that our hearts might be there. We have liberty to ask supplies for the outward life, but chiefly we should ask spiritual and heavenly things. .... it is far more pleasing to Him when we ask for grace. In every prayer we should seek to be made more heavenly minded by conversing with our heavenly Father.

---Thomas Manton, Works, I:60-62

Ed: Richard Rushing

uber-edited by me.

Well, there you have it. My thought, or rather Manton's thought, for the evening. Now, I'm hoping to go to sleep. With any luck, no one will feel the need to wake me up before noon.

Of Good Tidings

Obviously, there is one thing that simply must be blogged about today, and that is... (drum roll, please) Christmas!! Christmas, and everything that entails. Of course, there are the things that go along with the holiday, in a secular sense, but most importantly, the birth of Christ, which often gets lost in the shuffle. If I'd been in the service on Sunday, I would probably have much more to say, but as it was, all I heard was "So here are three points I would like to make about the significance of Christ's birth for the believer" before the nursery called. I ended up cuddling Abigail, and watching two other little ones instead of hearing what I'm sure was a fantastic, convicting sermon.

Sunday morning found us with the annual Christmas Coffee Hour, which means that instead of having sunday school, more people than usual come and partake of "good things" such as cranberry bliss bars, petite vanilla bean scones, cranberry orange scones, and, of course, Lattes! Rachel and I pack up our espresso machines, (which are not "latte machines", as some people call them) and bring them up to the church. Typically, Rachel would do the greater portion of the work, with me pulling shots, but this year things were a bit different. Mom took Rachel's place. At first, I will admit that the thought made me a bit panicky. However, she assured me that "I have been making lattes since before you were born!", which is indeed true. In fact, she was somewhat ahead of the "latte craze", and had an espresso machine long before they were popular. But apparently things have changed a bit since 1981. While beforehand, I was only "a bit panicky," by the time I looked over and saw her espresso machine quite literally spraying coffee everywhere, it had spiraled into an all-out terror. Luckily, we figured out a decent system, and managed to provide everyone with what I hope were palatable drinks. To my great disappointment, only one person wanted a caramel macchiato, so I was forced to bring home the remaining caramel sauce for my personal use. (and of course, this troubles me greatly)
All things considered, Sunday morning came off capitally.
Let's see, we've covered the past tense, now for the present...
Martha, one of my mom's sisters, is at our house with Uncle Frank, and they'll stay until Christmas morning. Tonight, mom is having one of her cackle club meetings. I know, I know, a statement like that requires an explanation, so let me attempt one. Mom and her sisters have some very close friends that they've known for years. They don't see each other very often, but when they do get together, the only word I can use to describe it is "loud." Also, words like "boisterous" and "cacophonous" come to mind. Basically, good healthy fun. Imagine seven or eight women, sitting around after a fantastic dinner. One of them says something that isn't really amusing, but the other six or seven think that it is the most hilarious thing they have ever heard. And thus, we have the cackle club. Laughter takes on a new meaning with them. In the past, my habit has been to flee for the whole evening, while papa does the same, but this year I've been called upon to make lattes for them. I'm sure that throwing caffeine and sugar into the mix will only calm them down... oh. Perhaps not. Anyhow, I think I'll stick around long enough to say hi to Aunt Michele and Aunt Sue, then I'll take shelter.

As for the rest of this week, we are following our typical Christmas traditions. Aunt Sandie will fly in on Christmas eve, and fly out on Christmas morning. We'll get together at Grandma's on Christmas Eve, then Christmas morning will belong to just my immediate family. The thought makes me smile. Family, Stockings, Babies, Quiche, Gifts, Tea, etc.

Naturally, I could go on for much longer, but I have some things to get done before the day is out. And so, I leave you with this...