on disgraced coffee

Non-dairy powdered creamer grosses me out.  I turn my nose up at it in disdain, yet I'm still drinking it because someone in the office seems to drink the real half-and-half by the glass so we always run out.  F'er.

I'm totally in awe of my dad because he rocks in general; a perfect blend of intellectual and badass. Do you know any other fighter pilots (call sign: "Saker," no less) who can recite epic poetry and hold a MS in Chemical Engineering from Berkley? I don't think so; I don't know any others either. Anyway, one of the more minuscule targets of my admiration is the fact that he can drink coffee akin to battery acid and genuinely enjoy it in such a way that only my dad can.  He can take pause and sit down amidst total chaos, lean back with the most contented air about him, and sip his cuppa joe as if he were on the deck of a lakefront cabin in autumn without a care in the world, then get up, energized, and fight whatever dragons may be lurking about.

Ok, cue reality.  The point is that he told me that he never liked coffee until he was a plebe at Westpoint, and the shitty black sludgy coffee available to them at 4am on bitter mornings became the highlight, nay - singular pleasant part, of each day.  Just because the ink was hot and he could appreciate the small amount of comfort it afforded him in the darkness.  Sigh. When I bitch about non-dairy creamer, I think of my dad and get put in my place because I'm simply just not hard-core when it comes to caffeinated beverages. 

Ada probably understands better than anyone else "how important the music is."  I've floundered recently, and Sufjan Stevens has really helped me through everything over the past week or so (thanks so much, teh Joh).  I haven't even really had specific problems other than feeling (mildly, thank goodness) like lupus, and generally unmotivated and distracted.  Unbalanced.  Anyway, heeeeeere's Sufjan:

Chicago:

Casimir Pulaski Day (really sad but really beautiful):

The Man of Metropolis Steals Our Hearts is lovely and makes me want to waltz myself across the room, but I couldn't find a good embeddable thingie for it.

Decatur, or Round of Applause for Your Stepmother! is fun...at first I thought it was silly, but it latched itself onto me and is really catchy:

Dare u goez.  Muzak fur ur enjoimintz.  

Tonight is dinner at Emily's house with Ulana and Luke (first time I've seen them since they got hitched!).  Em and I discussed that we'd probably get arrested by the friend police if they found out how negligent we've been of each other...luckily it's about to get resolved in T-7.5 hours.