DorisWatch 2006: Day 15

The title is all I will say about that, but trust me when I tell you that I have currently undertaken a very large, Senior Thesis-style research project in which I am learning all sorts of things about modern automobile transmissions. I will then consult a friend with close ties to a kick-ass Service Department as to whether it should take 15 frikkin' days to replace a very common part on a very common car. I'm pretty sure her answer will be "F*CK NO!" Following that conversation and upon receipt of Doris, I will take my findings and apply to them my freakish ability to write very wordy yet SCATHING letters expressing my deep disappointment and extreme displeasure, the incorporation of which will result in a Letter of Complaint to the mysterious Ford "dealership" "servicing" my car expressing my deep disappointment and EXTREME DISPLEASURE.

Sigh. But at least it gives me something to do. Twerps, unemployment sucks. I highly do NOT recommend it. Ok, maybe if I had actually saved up as much money as I'd originally intended when I sat down with the founding fathers and built the C.R.A.P. It might then be a more pleasant experience. However, in that mission I failed. I have a tiny bit of money left before I'm forced to sell off an ovary.

More than the money issue is the whole "self-worth" issue, which is born out of the fact that I am currently not doing anything which brings any value to anything. I cannot speak authoritatively on anything because I feel like I'm just not in a position to do so. And if you know me, or have read even one entry on this website, then you know how much I luuuuuuuurv speaking authoritatively on a variety of subjects (read: talking out of my ass).

In order to bring even the smallest sense of value to my daily life, such as it is in these early, zygote stages of re-establishment, I have taken to baking breads. A recipe is a task. The resulting tasty, warm banana bread is the successful completion of that task. The general consensus that, yes, the bread is quite good! -that is the validation that I did a good job. It's my way of patting myself of the head and reassuring myself that I am still capable, competent, and bring value to my current environment.

Since baking breads pretty much flies in the face of my dietary dogma, I'm not doing as much of it as I would like to. Which means I do other things to satisfy my jones for that sense of accomplishment: laundry, cooking, cleaning the bathroom, offering assistance to anyone in my path with annoying frequency. Just give me something to DO so I can do it and kick ass while I'm at it. Kicking ass is my crack. I hate that I'm not currently kicking ass at anything.

Speaking of crack, there exists but one good cup of coffee in the entirety of the 91505. I'm sure you're thinking, "Well, one is all you need, right?" Yes, but that one cup of coffee can only be obtained in a restaurant, which is inconvenient to my needs.

There is a place called Priscilla's. The hot coffee is OK, but the iced coffee is a weird marriage of weak and strong. It tastes strong, but it behaves like a weak brew, over-reacting to milk and surrendering to ice almost immediately.

Then there's Starbucks, which is, you know, Starbucks. Good for blended drinks, but their straight-up brews do not make good iced coffees. The Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf is the same. Their iced coffee is WAY too strong and bitter. But their hot coffee is ok. All of this frustrates the hell out of me because I NEED ICED COFFEE. It's 100 degrees. Who the hell drinks HOT coffee when it's that hot?

One day, I went to McDonald's for coffee. Their iced coffee is pretty decent (the plain, non-syruped versions), and their new hot coffee is respectable but only when it's turning over. I got a taste of stuff that had been sitting around for a while the other day and it quite depressed me. I tried to get their iced coffee on the way to the gym once, but it turns out they're not yet doing that here. So, they gave me hot coffee with ice. It instantly melted and left me with warm, watered-down coffee and a heavy feeling in my heart. Will I never find decent ice coffee?

There's a great place near Meghan's house called Casbah and their iced coffee is the best I've tasted so far, but it's not convenient to me. So, this morning, when the Keurig single-cup coffee maker Kevin brought out of retirement to much excitement last night produced a weak offering this morning, I decided it was time to bust out the french press. We tried two coffees and the winner was a Trader Joe's whole bean Island Blend coffee. And now I am about to jump out of my skin with the amount of coffee I had to taste test in order to find the right combination of processes. Which, you know, makes me feel more myself than I have in a little while.

So, for those of you wondering at the mystery of my new life in Los Angeles, there you have it. Still rocking it like Don Quijote on a never-ending quest for the Right Job and the Perfect Cup of Coffee. Same old, same old!