Starbucks

#PSL ²

I don’t know about y’all, but I love me some Labor Day weekend.

Particularly this Labor Day weekend as Scott and I were able to spend it at a friend’s wedding in Texas.

As it turns out, not only do I love me some Labor Day weekend, I also love me some Texas.

Mostly because it’s Jesus’ homestate and everyone has big hair. Also? The rumors about cinnamon rolls the size of your head are totally true.

#FatKidStatus

An added bonus was that I was able to wear red lipstick, a sequined dress and pageant hair out in public and it was totally normal.

Scott’s pink skinny tie? Not quite as normal…

It was a great wedding filled with great people, great fun, and great laughs. I’ve gotta say, I wasn’t quite ready for the holiday weekend to be over.

The good news?

It isn’t!

While Labor Day is certainly a historically significant holiday, I’d argue that Tuesday, September 4th, 2012 may be even more important.

I think you know where this is going.

It’s kind of amazing we all actually had to go to work on such an important occasion.

Image via Starbucks.com

That’s right. Today is the day when Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram are taken over by crazed Starbucks zombies demanding Autumn in a whip cream topped cup.

Need proof? Check out PSL’s omnipotent presence on the Twitterverse.

I only took screen shots of the snarky ones. You’re welcome.

Seriously, though…for every deliciously sarcastic tweet about the hyped-up beverage, there were hundreds of “OMG!!! I need a PSL NOW!!!!!!!” messages that kind of made me shed a tear for America.

And don’t even get me started on the 3,000+ #PSL photos on Instagram.

But here’s the bad part.

I kind of really want one.

While I realize this contradicts my recent decision to cut back on Starbucks, I feel an exception should be made when it comes to drinking pie out of a cup.

Because truly, everyone should be able to drink pie out of a cup once in a while.

Except maybe this guy.

Although I think that perhaps, all of us relate to this sentiment a little bit more than we’d like to admit.

Still, I’ve remained strong. This has less to do with my iron-clad self-control or distaste for American consumerism and more with the giant pile of processed cheese I ate for dinner. All I’m going to say is that it came from Taco John’s and probably could have fed a family of six. Even if a delicious pumpkin spice latte were sitting in front of me right now, I don’t think I’d be physically capable of ingesting it. The food coma is that severe.

Still, I’m going to roll with the whole “pretentious young woman exercising an incredible amount of willpower” angle.

We’ll just let the burrito of shame be our little secret. Cool?

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Long Story Short

Their milkshakes bring all the girls to the yard ⁴

When I left Seattle for the wide open spaces of the Midwest, I had what one may describe as a serious Starbucks addiction.

A very serious Starbucks addiction.

So serious, I came this close to driving three hours to risk being shanked by a mom gang so I might be the very first customer at the new Stargetbucks in Smalltown.

A junkie, getting her fix.

Yes, it was that bad.

Six months later, I’m proud to say I’ve only visited the Stargetbucks in Smalltown twice.

Twice.

In six months.

And I didn’t even have to go to Promises for rehab!

Minnesota has really changed me, you guys.

So what happened? How did I go from compulsive latte drinker to once in a blue moon customer without even really trying? Let me break it down for you.

1. I started working at home.

We all know that Starbucks is less about the coffee and more about the actual experience. My daily Starbucks routine used to be the highlight of my morning, and sipping my skinny caramel macchiato while sitting at my desk truly provided me with a feeling of joy. Also? There were at least a dozen convenient Starbucks locations on my drive into work.

But now? Now that I telecommute, stopping by Starbucks is no longer convenient as it requires actually putting on clothes and leaving the house.

You know what is on my way to work? The trusty coffee maker in my kitchen.

2. I started saving more money.

Scott and I really like it here in ‘Sota. As a matter of fact, we’re hoping to buy a permanent residence as soon as all of our student loans are paid off next year. In preparation for this we’ve been trying to save money where we can, in order to set aside a few extra Benjamins for a down-payment on a home.

Here’s where the crazy coffee math comes in.

My signature drink, a grande skinny caramel macchiato, costs approximately $4.25. Let’s say I had five of these a week, one for every morning of the work week. (In all reality, it was probably more than this as some days I went twice, some days I ordered a pastry, and some weeks I wound up stopping in on the weekends once or twice.)

That’s at least $21.25 a week on coffee. Like I said, on average, it probably ended up being a even little more.

Which means I was spending $1,105.00 on coffee a year.

Eleven hundred dollars.

That’s a trip to Mexico! Four pairs of designer shoes! Enough to buy two different fancy espresso machines so I could make my own lattes at home!

My beloved Gevalia coffee that I’ve been brewing myself costs about $17 a month, or $204 a year. It’s still a significant chunk of change, but is much more reasonable by comparison. Agree?

3. Nobody in Smalltown cares about Starbucks.

I’ve already mentioned that Starbucks is more than just coffee — it’s about a luxurious and idealized experience. In my opinion, part of that experience is the “image” that the little green mermaid represents. In Seattle, my white and green coffee cup was more than just a beverage holder — it was a fashion accessory, and even a status symbol. In the city, smugly toting that adorable little cup in my right hand meant something.

But in Smalltown? In Smalltown, nobody walks around with a Starbucks cup. It loses its prestige and it’s status. The cup doesn’t mean anything.

Suddenly, the less other people started caring whether I drank Starbucks, the less I started caring whether I drank Starbucks.

4. I was paying over $1,000 a year to drink milkshakes.

Warm, sugar-free, non-fat milkshakes with just a tiny splash of coffee in them.

And don’t even get me started on the Frappuccino.

I’m not saying the custom beverages at Starbucks aren’t delicious — they totally are.

But to call them coffee? I think we all know that’s a little bit of a stretch.

******

While I’m no longer a daily Starbucks customer, I still love the company and look forward to stopping in for a caffeine boost every once in a while as a treat. But that’s the difference. Starbucks runs have become less of a morning ritual and more something I do once in a while — when I’m travelling for work, on vacation, or meeting a friend. While I will always love my skinny caramel macchiato I no longer feel as if I need it to survive.

And now that Starbucks is a once in a while indulgence as opposed to a non-negotiable component of my daily grind? I actually enjoy it more. Go figure.

Also? While I still treat myself to a sugar-free milkshake about half of the time, I’ve taken to ordering a grande drip coffee with just a splash of cream. And guess what? It actually tastes really good.

See? I told you Minnesota has changed me.

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My Favorite Things ⁹

Apologies for going AWOL yesterday. I was busy doing some really important research.

Alright, alright, I was watching Season 1 of AMC’s The Killing. I realize Betty Draper might shank me for saying this, but this new show just might be better than Mad Men.

(Sorry, Betty.)

To make up for yesterday’s lack of a post, I’ve decided to pretend I’m Oprah and share “My Favorite Things” with you all!

Before you get too excited, I should probably clarify something: when I say “share” I mean “show”. Unlike Oprah, my pocketbook doesn’t permit me to give away hundreds of luxury bath towels to all of my fans.

Also unlike Oprah, I don’t really have fans…unless you count Jolie, who wouldn’t even appreciate luxury bath towels in the first place, so really, it’s a moot point.

However, I do have a shopping problem and opinion…giving you a rundown of my favorite products as of late just seemed like a good idea.

So, without further ado, my five go-to items for Summer 2012.

1. Mood Moss

Obviously, Mood Moss is moss that sets the mood.

Unless you ask my sister Hayley. Then mood moss is “A biologically correct replica of the Jolly Green Giant’s testicles.”

Pfft. Shows how much she knows. (Although her comment did make me question my..err…groping in the photo above.)

Anyone who watches Khloe and Lamar knows that Khloe Kardashian keeps an oversized bowl full off mood moss on the island in her kitchen. Would an A-list celebrity like Khloe keep the Jolly Green Giant’s testicles in her home?

I think not.

All ball jokes aside, I’m kind of obsessed with the stuff and think it looks pretty darn swanky on my coffee table.

Or, as Hayley calls it, my “testicle table”.

2. Monogrammed Coffee Mugs

Don’t you just hate when you walk into Anthropologie and find the most perfect sundress in the whole wide world only to realize it costs $400?

But then don’t you love when you realize you can drown your sorrows by purchasing a pair of $6 coffee mugs instead? Already, I’ve used these mugs way more than I would have worn that silly old dress in the first place. Talk about smart shopping.

FYI, the “K” stands for Katrina, and the “S” stands for Sexy. (It used to stand for “Scott”, but he never drinks out of his cup. You snooze, you lose.)

3. Tassimo Single Cup Coffee Brewer

I originally tried to take a photo of me kissing the coffee maker. Unfortunately, it came off as less “cute” and more “inappropriate”.

This magical appliance was a Christmas gift from my younger brother Janss. It’s also the reason I needed to purchase the coffee mugs featured above. I realize this might come as a shock, but I haven’t visited Starbucks or Caribou Coffee once since we busted this thing open in March.

The Tassimo has literally saved me hundreds of dollars and thousands of calories. (Hasta la vista, caramel macchiato!)

More importantly, it has rescued me from my Caribou-Starbucks love triangle, which quite frankly, was starting to get a little awkward.

Unfortunately, my husband Scott (aka the King of Composting) is not on board with the Tassimo as the coffee filled t-discs it requires are (gasp!) not recyclable or compostable.

(This is the other reason the “S” coffee mug is no longer named “Scott”.)

4. Polenta!

Normally, I am opposed to food that comes from a tube.

I’m also typically opposed to photographing myself holding such food in my master bathroom.

Melissa’s organic sun-dried tomato polenta is the exception to both of these rules. Scott and I decided to try it last week, and holy wow!

The stuff is delicious, healthy, and can be prepared in a variety of ways that are sure to suit almost any palette. It’s actually quite hard for me to believe that all this time, my precious polenta has been sitting there in the grocery store, right next to the organic herbs, just waiting for me to try it.

It’s almost like after ten years of living in an apartment, you realize Jessica Simpson just so happens to be your next-door neighbor, and has been patiently waiting for you to ask her out on a coffee date.

Except instead of Jessica Simpson, it’s coarsely ground cornmeal, and let’s be honest…J-Simps definitely doesn’t live in an apartment.

But other than those minor details, it’s pretty much the same thing.

5. Macy’s Hotel Collection MicroCotton Luxe bath towels

Yes, I went there.

I’ve been lusting over these towels since I nearly added them to our wedding gift registry in way back 2007. Yet $30 for a single towel always seemed slightly ludicrous.

But you know what’s really ludicrous?

Moving half-way across the country during the middle of winter and not rewarding yourself with a set of $30-a-pop bath towels. (And a new Louis Vuitton handbag, but that’s an entirely different story.)

I’ve gotta say…these luxurious linens were worth every single penny. In fact, I’ve considered hiring a professional tailor to make all of my clothes out of these sinfully plush towels. They are that comfy. Sure, wearing towel clothes could get a little, well, sweaty…but that’s the beauty of it! They’re towels! Absorbent and stylish!

Okay…maybe not stylish.

So much for my theory that anything looks cute if you “belt it”.

And certainly not flattering.

And yes–crafting towel dresses a la Project Runway is what I do in my free time. When I’m not on eBay trying to find good deals on the Jolly Green Giant body parts, that is.

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Giveaway: Chanel Nail Polish! ⁵³

I’ve decided I’m now going to wear Chanel everyday.

Without going broke.

Remember this Facebook post from last week?

Actually, it was $52. I’m good at fashion, bad at math.

I haven’t painted my own nails in over a year…yet after reading Rachel Wilkerson’s rave review of Chanel Nail Vernis, I thought I might give it the old college try.

Yes, spending $26 on a single bottle of nail polish could be considered a bit excessive.

But then I considered this: I’ve been getting a manicure every 2-3 weeks and a pedicure once a month. That’s roughly $75 a month for nail care, which adds up to $900 annually.

So yes, in 2011 I spent nearly $1,000.

On nails.

Oh snap.

Looking at it that way kind of lessened the blow of $23 nail polish.

Also? The nail salon isn’t always relaxing for me. I spend the entire time terrified of being cut by the tools that, in my whacked out mind, will infect me with HIV. I realize that sounds incredibly insensitive (not to mention illogical), but in 2007 I truly convinced myself I had contracted AIDS from a nail salon for a good three months. Only when the woman at the free clinic told me to go see a psychiatrist and never to come back for the rapid HIV test did I finally snap out of it.

I believe her exact words were, “Oh you’re sick. Just not with AIDS.”

Needless to say, the nail salon tends to bring out some of my “cray cray”. Plus, I’m getting sick of the ladies who work there trying to force pregnancy upon me. I do not want a baby, I just want my nails done without contracting a blood-borne illness, thank you.

What I’m trying to say is, the Chanel polish will saving my bank account and my sanity.

When these puppies arrived in the mail earlier a few days ago, I might have done a few celebratory somersaults. Jolie claims they looked more like someone having a seizure, but I was wearing super tight skinny jeans and did the best I could.

The fact that my jeans didn’t rip is truly a miracle. I swear, the ghost of Coco Chanel must have been watching over me, or something.

The two colors I selected were “Distraction” (I wanted something bright for Spring) and “Particuliere” (I have a total addiction to neutral grey shades).

The colors are, in a word, dreamy. Much better in person and just the right shade. Even the peachy pink “Distraction” is neutral enough to coordinate with just about any color.

Suddenly, this super expensive nail polish thing is starting to make sense.

I was itching to paint my nails with the pink color.

But there was a slight problem. I still had a month-old Gelac manicure on my digits.

31 days after my manicure

I’ve got to hand it to Da at Foxy Nails. While she may be the only person in the world who wants me to get pregnant more than my mother, she gives a pretty durable manicure.

My nails had been painted with Gelac–a lightweight gel polish that combines the long-lasting effects of a gel nail with the easy application of a regular varnish. It doesn’t chip, and stays shiny for up to one month.The process requires a UV lamp for “curing”, and takes around 10 minutes to remove.

Unless you try to remove it yourself.

Then it will take upwards of one hour and twenty minutes.

And your nails will look like this:

Better stick to my day job.

It was the best I could do. And quite frankly, after 80 minutes of battling the nail polish that’s almost as stubborn as I am, I was pretty much over it.

Although I have to say…the removal process wasn’t totally monotonous.

Gang signs. That’s right…I’m starting a manicure gang.

The initiation is spending $900 a year on getting your nails done.

After another half hour of chasing Jolie around the condo with my foil fingers, it was finally time to dress my hands in Chanel Les Vernis.

Let me preface this by explaining that I am terrible at painting my nails. The last time I tried to DIY my manicure (in bright red) it looked as if I had attempted to butcher a rabid squirrel with my bare hands.

I am not exaggerating.

Which is why I was shocked when my Chanel manicure turned out like this:

I dont’ know if it’s the high-end polish, the fancy brush, or the fact that I tried unusually hard not to screw things up…but they actually look kind of…nice. And, if the reviews are accurate, they won’t chip.

(Insert seizure-looking sommersaults here.)

I realize the texture is a little rough and bumpy. This is due to the fact that I didn’t have a nail file to buff my nails after removing the insanely cantankerous Gelac polish. I essentially painted directly over nail beds that had the texture of steel wool.

My toes (which did NOT have petrified gel polish that needed to be removed with a sledgehammer) provide a more accurate representation of the glorious polish that has pretty much changed my life.

Chanel + Target + Feet = Katrina in a nutshell

Oh…you like the shoes?

As promised, I stopped at Target to make sure I completed “part B” of my Epic Pinterest fail turned glorious shoe shopping success.

Yeah. Rockin’ these mama’s is way better than sewing a giant bean bag or painting an octopus on canvas. (No offense, Sherry and Katie.)

As if the new shoes, designer nails and 70 degree weather wasn’t enough, I finally made my debut at the brand new Stargetbucks of Small Town.

No matter how warm the weather, I prefer my lattes hot.

You can take the girl out of Seattle, but you can’t take the Seattle out of the girl.

Basically, that’s the “clever” way of saying that after guzzling this bad boy, I ate a pound of smoked salmon before slipping into a pair of Birkenstocks.

With socks.

Just kidding. Do you really think I’d slip on hippie shoes instead of prancing around the house in my new Pinterest heels? I’m not that Seattle.

Jolie thinks my attempt at walking in the heels made me look like an uncoordinated giraffe going through puberty.

I think she’s just jealous that I can actually wear shoes. And go through puberty.

“Who needs shoes when you look this sexy?”

Despite her cheap shots at my gracefulness, today was pretty much the best day ever.

And it can be just as fabulous for you — because I’m giving away a bottle of Chanel Polish to one lucky reader! You’ll be able to pick from these 37 adorable colors that Nordstrom has to offer:

And you have five, yes, five chances to enter! Leave a comment on this post for each one of the following:

1. Follow this blog in your reader or via email subscription. (1 comment…you can still comment if you’ve already followed!)

2. Like ‘Sota is Sexy on Facebook (1 comment…you can still comment if you’ve already “liked”!)

3. Share your favorite post (can’t be this one) on Facebook (1 comment)

4. Share your favorite post (can’t be this one) on Twitter (1 comment)

5. Pin your favorite post (can’t be this one) or the blog homepage on Pinterest (1 comment)

Each comment you leave on this post will counts as one entry. You must leave a comment on this page for your entry (or entries) to count. The giveaway closes at 8PM EST on Thursday, March 22.

*******

Here’s to Stargetbucks, buying things you found on Pinterest, and spending way too much money on nail polish!