The Stars and the Cookie Jar

So every Sunday, we go to Starbucks. Dude, I don't know. Sometimes we go to New York Bagel, I mean, but from a professional standpoint, their coffee sucks.

But! Anyway. We stand in line, we ravage the pastry case, I get my markout for the week (which, this time, I didn't, because my brain was still full of nightmare images from my last dream this morning). Everyone gets drinks, even me, for the sake of community.

Selk: "Yes, I'd like...

... a double tall caramel sauce white mocha,
... a tall mild coffee, 1/4 of the way hot water,
... a tall caramel creme Frappuccino,
... a short almond cappuccino [I was in a weird mood]
...and an iced grande nonfat cha-- I miss my girlfriend."

I called a drink for someone who isn't here.
Did you want to shoot me now or later?

Anyway.
*places holiday candy order with the confectioner: horehound drops for Sonya, humbugs for Sam, jellysticks for Cole, a peppermint pig for the table, and a pound of plain undyed marzipan for me*

...um, if anyone else likes weird candy, or has a request... Rainette, I laugh at the idea of giving you chocolate, when your chocolate supply is limitless and varied and multitudinously yummy, but there's weird American sweets by the score! And Tai, what do you like? And Sam, if they're out of humbugs, you get honeycomb candy unless you protest, and Em, what do I get you? I don't know any weird candy that comes from Texas...

WHEEEE SUGAR.