My doom

Starbucks, this morning, was all tricked out in sparkly wreaths and snowflakes and red paper cups: it's peppermint mocha season again. Oh, my nutritional nemesis that I also secretly want to make out with! Curses upon you...my darling.

I'm short on words and time today, but here's an article from the Seattle P-I detailing the anticipatory frenzy that greets the release of their Christmas Blend coffee each year (or, if you prefer, "Holiday Blend." Shalom/Happy Diwali/etc.). I do enjoy the legends of people hoarding pounds of it or cutting deals with the baristas to get a bag before Thanksgiving, back in the dark ages.

I can't really blame them; when the local Frederick & Nelson department-store chain shut down in the early 90s, my grandmother stood in line for something like two hours to buy a stockpile of Frango mints. I don't care what those Whos down in Whoville are singing, Christmas can't come without those little chocolate crack nuggets! Thankfully, after a variety of contractual hijinks, Macy's still sells the candy throughout the region. Grammy used to put a box under the tree for each of us. Ohh...the year she died, Mom, Sis and I--worrying separately about tradition--each completed the ritual; that year, each of us came away from Christmas morning with our own pound and a half of mints.

Aw. I'm feeling all tender-hearted now. (And borderline diabetic, I suppose.)