My love affair.

Drinking: Starbucks Americano with a splash of milk.

Growing up, coffee was always around. My mom is a coffee drinker, as are my Grammy and all of my mom's sisters. At every family function there was always a coffee pot being passed around the table. When we were at Grammy's it was coffee from a percolator. Sleep overs at her house meant my sister and I would be woken up at 5am by the sound of a coffee grinder followed by the sound of coffee perking (perching?..percing?) That sound still comforts me, (NOT the coffee grinder, but the percolator) and makes me think of being in Grammy's house.

{Grammy will be a frequent topic of conversation. She is amazing. The end.}

As a kiddo, I did not understand how anyone could drink the awful black liquid; it was bitter, icky, and never, ever tasted like it smelled. Oh, how things changed when I got to college. The obsession started with instant coffee. (Ew). I would boil water in the microwave and choke it down before studying on nights before exams. Then the cravings began. Slowly it became a regular part of my studying routine. Then, when I would visit home and the coffee was passed around, I would get a mug and partake in the bitter, icky black liquid. (Which was beginning to taste like it smelled).

I knew something was different when I went to Starbucks and ordered just a plain coffee. I felt as though I was cheating on my white chocolate mocha, but... I just wanted coffee. Then, I got a real coffee maker. And my life ended. Addiction is a funny thing*, it creeps up on you. And that is exactly what happened. Before I knew it, I was drinking coffee every morning, and then... I needed coffee every morning.

{*I do not think addiction is a funny thing, being addicted to anything other than coffee, and maybe peanut butter, is a scary thing.}

Now, coffee is a huge part of my life. It is not just a beverage to me, it is part of my personality. The best part of being at home, with my parents, is being able to have coffee with my mom. We could probably clear out the coffee section of a grocery store in a weekend. We have a bond through coffee, it is a constant, a routine that just makes me feel comfortable, content and at home.

Camping. We had Starbucks' Via on hand. Lots of it.

 And any trip home isn't complete unless I visit Grammy and have "percolator coffee" with her. In my head, and in my taste-buds, percolator coffee is a million times better than regular brewed coffee. It just tastes... richer and fuller. It tastes like Grammy's house. 

{I had a percolator once. Then I lost the cord. And you can't buy just a cord. And I don't want to buy a new percolator just for the cord. It's a tough subject...I'd rather not talk about it.} 

There are mornings when the only thing that will get me out of the bed, is the thought of what the apartment will smell like after I start the coffee. There is nothing like walking into a house and smelling freshly brewed coffee. This may be the reason why I spend a lot of time at Starbucks. It just smells like... home/heaven. There is a Starbucks in Fort Collins, Colorado that I like to think I kept in business while in college. You're welcome, Campus West Starbucks. 

My love affair with coffee is not a light subject. It is a very serious issue. That Boy I Love doesn't understand. But he does know that coffee keeps me happy, and I think that's pretty easy.

 Maybe I need help? An intervention? 

I'll look into it after I get another cup of coffee. 

Images: brettsuperstar.blogspot.com, blog.galaxark.com