Well, here I am, back in my apartment, 12 stories off the ground and happy. I still consider that land-loving. I’m still coming off vacation mode, but I promise to be back in the full blog of things shortly.
Today’s post is a quick one on a VERY important subject: my favorite coffee mug. I almost wrote: “everyone should have a favorite mug,” but realized that I’m better off never telling anyone what they should or should not do! I need to figure out what I should do before ever even attempting to dictate your actions. I will say this, however – after a long, magical week away, I think I missed you, Coffee Mug, most of all.
Mugs are like an acceptable security blanket for adults. I first found that I “needed” my mug while still working in finance. Back then, I had both a home mug and an office mug. My office mug was one of those blue ceramic versions of the Greek-inspired paper cups that detectives are always drinking on Law & Order from some food truck early in the morning. In reality, I haven’t seen one of those paper cups since I was a kid, but I like the nostalgia of them nonetheless. While plugging away at my computer (and usually channeling 85% of my brain activity into trying to figure out what to order for lunch), I would reach for my mug of Flavia-expunged coffee with a shot of Flavia espresso and take a millisecond sip/vacation away from my world.
My home mug is pure comfort. It has that old, classic diner/stoneware shape that’s reminiscent of a New England country kitchen… which is actually pretty foreign to this little Vietnamese girl, but it reminds me of old Maxwell House commercials that I used to watch on TV as a child. You know the commercials – where some guy in a chunky-knit turtleneck travels home all the way from across the state in the snow to spend Christmas day with his family, and they welcome him home with the cheapest, weakest-tasting coffee that they can brew for him. Whatever, it was beautiful. On top of that, my mug is a Car Talk mug. If you’ve never listened to Car Talk on NPR, then you’re missing out on something corny and beautiful. It’s two, increasingly aging, brilliant, and hilarious brothers who spend an hour helping you understand why your busted car is making that terrible noise, while making jokes about how all blonds behind the wheels of white BMWs are named “Donna.”
And if you’ve never heard my dad laugh his ridiculous, high-pitched, hyena-on-crack laugh while listening to them instead of paying attention to the road… well, I can only pray that you get to enjoy that harrowing experience at some point in your life. It’s a combination of laughing so hard that you can’t speak while trying to gasp out the words, “Look out for the mail truck!” Whenever I look at my coffee mug filled with fresh-ground, fresh-brewed, cheap-but-delicious coffee, and stare at the Car Talk motto on my mug, “Unencumbered by the thought process,” I feel like I’m home.