Coffee, I love you, so why do you hurt me so?

I love coffee. I love it hot, cold, iced, blended - just put a little cream and sugar in it and I am good to go.

I also need coffee. Yes, I have become one of those obnoxious people who can't get their day started without a cup of Joe. You know all the Someecards and Facebook photos out there with a droopy-eyed dog looking pathetic and the caption reading "Someone needs her third cup of coffee?" Well, that someone is me.

I like coffee, I need coffee ... coffee is a wonderful thing.

Except when it is scalding hot and burns your tongue after the first sip rendering your taste buds useless for the rest of the day. Then I get a little p-o ed at coffee.

I want to drink it. As I look my big Grand Valley State University mug (go Lakers!) full of coffee and watch the steam rise off the lovely black liquid - mixed with just enough Splenda and CoffeeMate to turn in a light chocolaty color - all want to do is take a big satisfying slurp. But alas, I must not sip too soon or I will surely be punished. So I wait impatiently as my eyelids struggle to stay open and I can physically feel the energy draining from my body. I probably should just pop an ice cube in there or something ....

A piece of ice is not much help to me however when I am getting my favorite Cafe Mocha at Tim Horton's or getting a quick pick-me-me at a gas station. That is where I most recently got burned (literally and figuratively).

I get it, people like hot coffee. I am one of them. But why does it have to be so bleepity, bleepin' hot the second it comes out pot? It's not like coffee instantly cools. It is not like you have to put the coffee in a cup straight out of the freezer. Coffee shops and gas stations provide STYROFOAM cups to help keep the heat IN. It's gonna stay hot for a few minutes people, trust me. Plus, the caffeine is still going to work whether the coffee is 200 degrees or 50 so why give our tongues second degree burns in the process. As it is I have to wait a good 10 to 15 minutes before I even dare take my first sip and even then it it with a very hesitate slurp.

Because it doesn't take very much hot liquid to burn your tongue. And man, I hate it when I have burnt taste buds. While they only are around about 10 days and usually the tongue heals much faster than that, I would still rather just avoid the possibility entirely. (Even right now as I am typing this, I can feel the swollen taste buds on my tongue from yesterday's white chocolate caramel fiasco from the Shell station near my son's preschool.)

So here is my plea to all coffee shops, restaurants, gas stations and any place else that sell coffee: Turn your pots down a few degrees will ya? It is tough to get repeat customers if all their tongues have burnt off. Or at the very least start offering ice cubes with each purchase.

I will probably take you up on it ...

If I see someone wearing a nightgown at Walmart, I just may lose it ...

There is a problem out there that has reached such epic proportions that I can not hold my tongue any longer. This epidemic is running wild in the streets and if something isn't done it may be the collapse of civilization as we know it.

People: stop wearing pajamas in public.

Look, I get it, pajamas are comfortable. I look forward to putting on my pjs every night and curling up on the couch. So wear pajamas - wear them all day if you want to. Just don't go out in public with them. It is just wrong.

For one, the clothes you are wearing are meant to be under your sheets and blankets, not wandering the aisles of Meijer or Walmart. (Or McDonald's, or the movie theater, or Applebees.) There is a reason why we change our clothes before we go to bed. For comfort yes, but we have been out in the world all day, coming in contact with goodness-knows what. Do we really want to bring all that in to bed with us? It gives me the willies just thinking about it. Gross!

Secondly these articles if clothing are not designed to be worn outside the home. Pants that have Homer Simpson plastered all over them or over sized chili peppers are not meant to be fashion statements. They are comical, playful, silly covers for your derriere that are supposed to be worn while you watch the Simpsons IN THE PRIVACY OF YOUR OWN HOME.

In my mind there are only a handful of reasons one should wear pajamas in public. They all are emergency related: going to the hospital, evacuating your house in the even of a fire or flood ... you know times when you have no time to change.

What happened to the days of presenting your best self when you went out? Women used to wear nice dresses and men suits and hats. We all so looked dapper and clean. I know I just romanticizing that time period, and while we may have come a long way since then in terms of equality and technology our fashion sense has taken a nose dive.

I am not quite sure how it happen either. It must have been some celebrity (Michael Jackson) worn pajamas out in public ONE time and and suddenly that made it ok for everyone to do it. Well, it is not ok.

Clothing manufacturers seem to have given up too. They don't even label them pajama pants anymore. It is like they know that they aren't going to be worn solely for sleeping so way market them as such. I was looking for fun pajama bottoms for my husband for Christmas the other day and what I ended up buying were not even pajama bottoms. They were "lounge pants." I guess if you can't beat 'em, join 'em right?

Now I realize there are many degrees of elastic pants. There are exercise pants, yoga pants, jogging pants, pants with a giant words across the backside ... And I can't in good conscience say that all pants with an elastic waist band should only be worn inside the home, because I would be a giant hypocrite. So while I realize it is a slippery slope from yoga pants to pajamas in public let's all try to have some self control and take some pride in ourselves. You are all attractive, smart, hard-working members of society. At least change out of the pants covered with Stewie Griffin's face and put on pair of yoga pants or jogging pants before you head out the door. 

I (and society as a whole) thank you in advance. I am sure your sheets thank you too ...

I'd be the black sheep in Martha Stewart's family

I am not a crafty person. Well, not in a Martha Stewart, Pintrest post-worthy kind of way. Maybe in the rubbing her hands together maniacally laughing kind of way. But glue-gun savvy I am not.

However, this is the time of year where lots of people get their craft on in a serious way. I will also be getting my "craft" on, though only maybe only in a friendly way. See, crafting and I are friends, sure. We hang out occasionally, have a few laughs, sometimes alcohol is involved, but my desire for crafting is not enough to say we are in any kind of serious relationship. A flirtatious friendship is about all we will ever have.

Maybe it's because I kind of suck at it. I think I am missing the crafting gene or something. Other members of my family have it. My older sister is awesome at it. She makes all kind of things and creates cool cakes for her kids on their birthdays. She even makes her own Christmas cards. Crafty she is (only in the the Martha Stewart way, I promise). My younger sister is a pastry wizard and can make all kinds of beautiful cakes and cookies and the like. They are beautiful, they are delicious and so is she! My brother, well to be honest, I don't know how crafty he is. I know his wife is quite the craft wizard and they make some kick-ass Halloween costumes every year, so there is a good chance he acquired the craft gene as well.

Then there is me. The missing link. The one who DIDN'T get the craft gene (along with the gene that allows you to roll your tongue like a taco shell. (And now, how many of you who CAN do that little trick, just did it?? Show off!)

Don't get me wrong, I like to craft. And I always go into a crafting project with high hopes. I can see the end result in my mind and the steps to get there and it all seems very straight forward and simple. Then, somewhere between my brain and the materials I am using, it goes sideways. Maybe it's my hands, maybe it's my lack of patience, but when it is all said and done my little project either looks like it got hit by a Mack truck or a third grader did it (no offence to third graders out there, I am sure many of you could still do a better job than me.)

My only saving grace is my husband, who is very, very handy. Which, as it turns out, makes him a bit crafty. I don't know if men are supposed to be labeled as crafty, but sorry hun, you kind of are. And I am forever grateful for it! He has saved many a failing crafty project from catastrophe and me from having a nervous break down, with his keen art eye and proper use of a glue gun.

I was first rescued by my crafting knight more than 10 years ago when I decided I wanted to make my own veil for our wedding. The price of tulle, some trim and a comb seems outrageous to me and I thought "I can do that." Yea ... that was my first mistake -I thought. Fast forward two hours later to me cursing at myself in a blubbery mess with a glue gun in my hand. Not a good combo. My soon-to-be hubby charged to me side on his great white steed and soon I was no longer able to say that I made my own veil. We'll just say in was a team effort ...

Little did my husband know that that crafting bail out would be just one of many over the next 10 years and I can say with certainty that there is no end in sight. Because I am going to keep on crafting damn it and one of these days it will turn out just as I imagined it.

Last year I had a glimmer of hope that the crafting tables had turned when I decided to make not one, but TWO Pintrest crafts for our home, plus one more for grandparents. I knew I was a bit greedy with this endeavor, and I must have been hopped up on craft paint and tacky glue because I forged ahead like a soldier into battle. I had a few wounds to show for my efforts, only a few curse words were uttered and in the end, ONE of the projects turned out semi decent. Enough for me to post on Facebook and brag about it a little. The other, well, the other succumbed to typical "Sarah-ness" crafting-wise and I had to be saved by my husband. I mean I could have gotten by without his help, but then whoever looked at it would have wondered how much wine I had while making it. With a little fixing by Jeff it looks like I only had about two glasses, not four. (You'll never know how many I really had though, I'll never tell ... Not unless you get a couple glasses of wine in me ...)

And now back to the 2013 craft-a-ganza. Not quite sure what I am going to make this year. Something for the grandparents I am sure. I will probably bring the kids in to help on it this year. They are old enough, and if there are any imperfection (and trust me there will be), I can just pin it on the kids. (There's an A+ parenting move if I ever saw it.) Cause if it a kid makes a messy craft project it's always cute.

But if a 34-year-old does, it's just sad ...