How I became a heretic (in the way of tea)

You should know that I live in the south.
I've lived in the south all of my life.
I have generations of family from the south.
No disputing this.

You may also know that being a southerner has certain connotations.
Nestled among them is the love of iced tea. Specifically, sweet tea. ("What other kind of tea is there?" is often asked)


I used to drink sweet tea.
It used to be my beverage of choice. Always. It was right up there with water.
I never really liked soda, but sweet tea? Wonderful stuff!

A few years ago something happened.
A chain of events led to my discontinuation of ingesting that sugary beverage.
My dad, who used to be the biggest sweet tea drinker I knew, decided to switch over to unsweet tea.
I couldn't understand this radical change in behavior.
When I'd accidentaly grab his unsweet tea pitcher from the fridge and pour myself a glass, I'd gag at the grossness of the flavorless tea.

I still drank sweet tea, despite what my parents were doing.

Then a year or so later, I got a job at a quick-service restaurant that had (and still has) quite the fan club: Chick-fil-a.
If you're from anywhere but the eastern US, you might not know what this restaurant is.
Basically it serves fried chicken sandwiches, waffle fries, and the like. It's good stuff (if you didn't eat it to ad nauseum like I did...but every so often the CFA mood hits.)

One of the perks of working there was the infinite drink refills. As a cashier, this was exceedingly helpful, because one has to do a lot of talking to guests... and one's throat gets PARCHED.
I had open access to sweet tea! W00t!

Ok, so part of my duties at this job was manning the sweet tea levels, and making sure that we didn't run out of tea.
Sweet!

...It was then that I realized just how much sugar was in sweet tea.
I'd start the brew cycle, and run back to get the sugar to sweeten the tea. It was a large sugar scoop that held about 6 cups of sugar. The tea machine made about 3 gallons of tea at a time.

TWO CUPS OF SUGAR PER GALLON OF TEA!
WHAT?
That's a lot of sugar.

I was working more frequently, and I had access to sweet tea at any time, like I said. The first week or so, I had a definite sugar buzz.

I decided to cut back on the tea--especially since I am a gulper, if you know what I'm saying. I can easily drink a half-gallon (okay, maybe more like a quart) of liquid in one sitting. I am no sipper of drinks. (unless the drinks are smoothies or milkshakes or something that is supposed to be savored)

...it's helpful to be a "gulper". I'm hydrated, this is for sure.

But as I realized how much sugar I was drinking daily, I started drinking tea that was a 1:1 ratio of sweet and unsweet.
Soon it was a 1:3 ratio.
Before long, I was drinking unsweet tea with a splash of sweet.
Next thing I knew, I was just drinking straight unsweet tea.
People at work started to look at me funny for my odd choice of beverage.
I'm sure they thought "Who, other than diabetics, would drink unsweet tea?
Diabetics even add that fake sugar!"
I usually didn't.
Ok, YANKEES. YANKEES drink unsweet tea. (but I know that yankees are people too. I'm trying to spread this knowledge) I'm by no means a yankee, though I sound like one.

I didn't plan on totally ruling out sweet tea, I just wanted to be healthier and less sugar-buzzed.
As I drank more unsweet, I found that I actually started to prefer it. I liked the flavor of the tea leaves, and the comparable lightness in consistency--while still it gave me a much-needed caffeine boost.

I realized I was totally anti-sweet tea when I accidentally got sweet tea at a restaurant.
The drink was placed in front of me, and being the gulper I am, I took a long draw.

I coughed
                    I sputtered
What was this syrup I was drinking?!?

I tried to go back to being a 'true southerner', I really did. I tried to drink sweet tea again, but I was ruined.

I cannot stand sweet tea anymore.
But give me a large unsweet tea?

I am so set.

clutterbug

So apparently I have issues when it comes to collecting things. 

As I have been reorganizing my stuff while I redo my room, I’m realizing that I am in fact a collector of the following: 

• rocks from interesting places (the tops of mountains, creeks, beaches...)
• Coins from around the world 
• Bells (I inherited the collection) 
• Sharpies (It’s a disorder, I’m sure) 
• old letters (can I get an aww? That letter box can be so neat to look through...) 
• Post Cards (it makes for a cool collage on my bulletin board...) 
• Pencils (a useful collection, don’t you agree?) 
• mother of pearl shells and a jar of seashells (One summer at the beach, I couldn’t stop picking them up. They were so shiny and pretty...it's a habit) 
• Posters. (Very cool band tour posters from the “old days” [a.k.a. the 1980’s.])
• [As I've said before] old records for my turntable

There’s also a conglomerate of various knick-knacks. Their only function is to look nice. 

I’m thinking about sorting through them, and culling out some old ones... but they all have happy memories attached! You don't want me to lose my memories, do you?!? 

My sisters make fun of me for being so sentimental. 
Okay, I admit I am a smidgen too sentimental about some things. 


But they aren't junky things; they're nice and well kept. I think that’s a good sign. If I cared nothing for my gifts, you’d think me terrible or at least cold and unfeeling. ...and if you thought I didn't care, you probably wouldn't give me anything for my birthday. AHEM.
(it is in 56 days, just so you're prepared. I'll be OLD! Oh the HORROR. I do NOT want to be old and adultish. I have a hard enough time now...I've decided I'm not growing up... backontopic)


I appreciate gifts and see them as an expression of love and thoughtfulness. 

I do admit, it is time for me to pass the love on with some things. 

But you know what's mildly infuriating?? 
As soon as I’ve found a new home for something and it is long gone, I’ll find a good use for it. Arrgh. 
***
I also have a massive collection of books for someone of my age. (Must I bring up age again?!?) 

I know I need to weed and cull, but some of the books are SO GOOD, and I know that someday my sisters will need to read them. Shakespeare, Doyle, Dickens, Austen, Twain, Tolkien, Lewis...

You should be proud, though. I have about 50 that are going to edward mckay (wonderful bookstore). 

There’s even *gasp* my many hardback yellow NANCY DREW books in the box destined to be gone. 
I don’t find much pleasure in re-reading those mystery stories.
I figured out the patterns Carolyn Keene used. They were good books, but the stories lacked depth and the mysteries were slightly repetitive. ..which is why they are aimed at 8-12 year olds.

My sisters never found them fascinating like I did. When I was 6, Nancy Drew was the bee’s knees.  

When I was 12, I discovered Sherlock Holmes. 
His story had the gripping power that Nancy’s lacked. 

So now the works of Doyle have replaced the works of Keene. 

Right now, I have my books stacked on the floor for organizing. I'm staring at them. 
(It's tempting to start rereading some of them. I’m a sucker for a good fairytale...) 

Instead of actually organizing them, I’m allowing my mind to drift and my fingers to type. 


Books... 

Sometimes your view of life can be changed for the better. Books can help you to understand others. You gain knowledge and stimulate the growth of gray matter in the noggin. 
Not all books are like this, but I appreciate the ones that are.

The "escapist" literature in my collection has been weeded out {for the most part. Like I said, I'm a sucker for a good fairy tale.}

okay, okay...the thought that my room will straighten itself is a fairy tale. One that I wish would come true, but sadly, will not. 


Where are you Mary Poppins?? 

Drizzle, drizzle, drizzle

This morning, everything was gray and drizzly.
I'm not big on gray and drizzly.

When the weather gets like this, I just want to curl up with a blanket, a good book (and some PG tips) and read.
Today, I had a few potentially interesting (and yet unread) classics on my shelf, so I was all set...
...but then we decided to run out and look at the shoe sales...
WIN!
I ended up with a new journal, $10 chucks, and an "eco-friendly coffee cup". All wonderful items that made my day sunny.

....
So, the other day, we (my family) were discussing my sister's t-shirt.
Pictured on it are two wedges of cheese and a cheese grater. One cheese is being grated, the other stands (?) in horror shouting, "You Monster!", to the grater, I suppose.

Well, you can kinda see for yourself:

Asking what character my sister most closely identified with, she responded that she was like the talking cheese, because the cheese was cute.
This started a silly debate.
We determined that she WAS the grater, but just didn't like to admit it. She's nobody's victim, try as she might to look "cute".
I laughed and laugh still.

My other sister is to the point, she gets the job done. Like a hammer.
Both can be cheeses though. *wink-wink*


I was told that I'm like a fan with sharp metal blades.
Sharp metal blades that can cut off appendages.


BUT, I do have a safety grille covering the blades, so you have to do a bit of work to get hurt...
That's comforting, right?

Oh, yes...inanimate object psychology.

ANYways...

Perhaps I'll go for a quick run today.

I went running yesterday. It was beautiful outside. I appreciated the bright orangey yellow, and brown-red of the leaves of the changing trees. They were absolutely aflame with color.

It was a warm humid day and the sun was very bright. The kind of bright that requires squinting.

I was about a mile and a half from the house when I heard the thunderclap.
Then the floodgates opened.
The wind picked up. It was blustery and felt fabulous.

The downpour became stronger. The rain started coming in sideways.

The falling leaves swirled around me in the strong gusts of wind.



{You know how in movies that "sudden rainstorm" happens? I thought that was a made up thing or a very rare occurrence. Who gets caught unawares like that? Apparently, it does happen. It's fun.}



When I arrived home, I was positively drenched and my shoes were squelching with the water.

Overall, it was an agreeable experience.

Moving on...

Coffee is a thing of the *not so distant* past.

Now, give me a cup of P.G. tips tea with a spoon of honey and a dollop of cream, and I am happy as a lark.

[P.G. is the best tea. Period. Try some. If the English know anything, it's that good tea is high priority.]

See, even cute sock monkeys like it.


{I didn't mean for this to sound like an advertizement, but sadly, it does. Too bad I get no sponsorship from P.G.}