A Million Little Granules

"I have measured out my life with coffee spoons." - T.S. Eliot

Coffee. That brown liquid concoction that has the ability to provide one with a much needed energy boost whilst also giving an individual what can only be described as a warm oral embrace. It's been the subject of countless songs, films and countless other works of popular culture. As I write this I am seriously considering making myself yet another cup of joe in order to "help me concentrate". I fantasise about inhaling the sensuous aroma of the minuscule beans that rest at the bottle of my mug. I visualise how the shade of the magical brown fluid changes from an almost black to a more caramel hue. Mmmm, ecstasy in a cup!
             I had my first encounter with the brown at the tender age of twelve (I know, I know. I was quite the early starter) when, out of sheer curiosity, I drank a whole cup of cappuccino during a family dinner to celebrate my birthday, much to the sheer astonishment of my parents. Fast forward just over two years and I was almost incapable to function without getting my caffeine fix on an almost daily basis. I was officially addicted.
             Although I did manage to successfully abstain from caffeinated beverages for approximately five months at the age of fifteen the second my tongue touched a drop of mocha after my caffeine fast I was quickly became immersed in a caffeine-feuled rage of Godzilla preportions, so the less said about that the better.
             But alas, I have now discovered that my body has become immune to almost all forms of caffeinated beverage due to the vast consumption of said caffientated beverages my body had to endure during my formative years. Trust me, give me a double shot of espresso before swiftly downing a can of Red Bull and I can guarentee you that I will sleep like a log without any trouble as soon as my head hits a pillow. However, drinking coffee makes me feel I'm reconnecting with that old friend whom you haven't heard anything from for the past ten or fifteen years. It makes me feel as though I can do anything with great ease. It makes me feel like I'm invincible. It makes me crank out four months of college coursework within the space of six hours. With coffee's help I'm the queen of the world and not just some other mere face in the crowd.
             Coffee: you might call it a legal drug, but I call it a way of life.

Song of the Day

I have a confession to make: I am a closet fan of cheesy pop music and have been ever since I can remember. Sure, I may have a record collection that would make the late, very great John Peel descend from rock 'n' roll heaven just so his ghost could give me a pat on the back in awe of its sheer awesomeness and, yes, I cite alt-rock legends such as the Smashing Pumpkins and The Pixies amongst my favourite bands, but there is also another side of me that is a Gaga-loving popette who could recite the lyrics to Kylie Minogue's greatest hits as if they were Shakespearean monologues. So when a friend of mine from college (who shall not be named, but you know who you are...) posted a link to Girls Aloud alumna Nicola Roberts' debut solo effort Beat Of My Drum I felt a sudden and compelling urge, albeit out of sheer curiosity, to check it out for myself. Sure, there are the obvious "she'll never be like Cheryl!", etc., but isn't pop music meant to let you leave your brain at the door and, you know, dance and stuff?