A barista's work is never done...

My third official day of unemployed uselessness found me taking a trip to Super Target in the Turkey Creek shopping center. My goal was to 1) purchase and consume an iced caramel macchiato and 2) purchase a lounge robe. The proper way to say this is "louunnnge robe." While we were browsing around Target one day not too long ago, I told Scott that I wanted a robe. This prompted him to ask incredulously, "Why would you want a robe?!" And I responded, "Look. Sometimes after you take a shower you don't want to put on clothes, but you don't want to walk around naked either." To which he replied, "Oh. Point well made." So there.

And especially in my current state, in which I find myself with no real reason to put together any sort of well-thought-out ensemble at any point during the day, I think a nice, comfy lounge robe would be the perfect final step in my near-instant transformation from working woman to useless lump of flesh on couch. Unfortunately, I couldn't find a robe that was both comfortable, cute and not made for a 6-foot tall giantess. You know, something that won't make me look and feel like a 26 year old member of the Golden Girls. And one that is also within my budget (i.e. just a hair above free). So no lounge robe for Ysabel yet. But the search continues...

Also, I went to the Starbucks kiosk (Located within the Super Target, thank you very much. Now you know why it's my version of The Happiest Place on Earth!) to purchase my Grande iced caramel macchiato. I observed the barista start off by pouring some frappucino mix into my cup and, needleess to say, I spent the next ten minutes explaining to the poor woman the proper way to make an iced caramel macchiato. "Um, I'm sooorry...I'm pretty sure a caramel macchiato should be with milk and espresso..." It seems she was new and the other person working with her had just left to take a break.

Just so you know, the correct way is to put 3 pumps of Vanilla syrup, then fill with whole milk to the first green line, top with a Grande scoop of ice, then pour two shots of espresso over , and finally garnish with caramel syrup in the classic Star*ucks 7 + 7 criss-cross and swirl pattern. Except that I am a Star*ucks snob and ordered it with 2 pumps of Vanilla syrup, 2% milk and decaf espresso. Anyway, the young barista grasshopper was very thankful that I was patient with her and shared with her my Star*ucks wisdom. She should be glad that I didn't order my more usual cold beverage: A Grande iced 2-pump decaf soy no-whip white mocha. God, is it possible to love and hate yourself at the same time for the very same reason??

ps. The other night I dreamt that I was one of the Hilton sisters (I couldn't tell if it was Nicky or Paris) and that I was being interviewed on TV and the interviewer asked me why my sister and I had such a good relationship and I replied, "Well, when we were growing up, our mom would put things that the other person really liked into our mouths so that we would always stay close to each other." And then I woke up. WTF?