This is not a riddle. Well, I suppose it could be a riddle, but I’m asking it as an honest question. What name can be spelled only one way? I need to know because of Starbucks. Yes, Starbucks.

I circulate among several coffee shops in the Chapel Hill area to do my freelance work because I don’t want to get sick of any one place or any one background soundtrack. I sometimes visit the Starbucks and they always ask your name so they can write it on your cup in thick black permanent marker. One of the few constants in my thirty-plus years on this Earth is that no one ever knows how to spell my name. I like my name, (great job Mom and Dad!) but I spell it a bit oddly (not so great job, Mom and Dad!). Misspellings used to annoy me all through high school, but by the time I reached college I either chilled out about it or admitted defeat and let it go. My linguistics teacher always said spelling doesn’t matter anyway. Now I let people spell it however they like as long as it isn’t on something important like a driver’s license or my book cover. (Not kidding about the second one. This is why we have design proofs.)

However, when I tell the people at Starbucks to put the name “Jennette” on my cup, they ask me how to spell it as if they’re studying for the National Spelling Bee. That’s when this happens:

JENNETTE: It’s J-E-N-N-

BARISTA: Wait, J-E-A-N?

JENNETTE: No, J-E-N-N-

BARISTA: J-E-N-N-

JENNETTE: E-T-T-E

BARISTA: E-T-E?

JENNETTE: No, E-T-T-E

BARISTA: E-T-T-E. Got it!

JENNETTE: (Finally.)

Sometimes this happens instead:

BARISTA: J-O-H-N-N-E-T-A, double back slash, upside down exclamation point, ampersand?

JENNETTE: Yes, that’s right.

So, in the hopes of never, ever having a conversation about how to spell my name with a barista ever again, I have started using aliases. First I tried “Jenna” but then the barista asked me if that was with two Ns or one. Then I switch to Jen, but again they wanted to know how many Ns were in the name. Next time I’ll probably try Jenny, but they’ll probably ask me if that’s with a Y or an I.

I’ve been trying to stick to names similar to my own so I don’t forget what I used by the time my order comes up. However, if I could just find a name, any name, that can only be spelled one way, I would start using that. Part of me wants to start using something ridiculous like Hitler, but then I imagine some cute guy will start talking to me and think that’s my real name and I’ll have to pretend to be Hitler for the rest of our relationship. I might try J.S., which are my first two initials, but that sounds rather pretentious and they’ll probably ask me if that’s J or Jay. Someone suggested I use my cats’ names, but I don’t think people know how to spell Krupke, and if I said my name was Java Bean they’d probably think I was asking for some weird blend.

Anyway, I am opening this up to the peanut gallery. Does anyone know an excellent Starbucks alias for me? It should be:

1. A name that can only be spelled one possible way.
2. A short name so the barista doesn’t spend forever writing on my cup.
3. A name that doesn’t sound like another name. Janet wouldn’t work because it might be confused for Jeanette over the sound of coffee grinders.

Thanks!

Actually, I’ve become a coffee shop john if we’re going to make the prostitution analogy correctly. I’m the one paying, after all. I’ve been freelancing full-time for 21 months now. (And I’m still not broke! I know, I’m as shocked as you are.) As nice as it is to sleep late, take vacation days without need of approval, and to crash on the couch in the afternoon if my headache has my brain in a headlock, it can get lonely if you let it. Hypothetically, if I had enough groceries I could stay in my apartment for days, if not weeks, at a time. That’s great if there is a nuclear incident in my vicinity. All I’d have to do is duct tape the windows closed to protect myself from stray neutrons. But it can also get rather claustrophobic and boring no matter how many movies I can watch on Netflix streaming.

Lately I’ve been going to coffee shops to work. A lot. Like, way more than I ever did in the first 16-18 months of working for myself. I’m going so often that my backpack smells like coffee grinds. There’s something about getting out of the house and being among people that helps me focus on work and stops me from crocheting cat sweaters in my pajamas. And this town—oh, man—this town has a lot of coffee shops. They’ve got at least three custom roasters within a 10-mile radius, maybe more. It’s much easier to find a place to loiter all day in Chapel Hill than it ever was in Indianapolis.

As a result, I’ve become a wellspring of highly specialized coffee shop knowledge. I know who serves the cheapest cup of decaf and who makes the prettiest leaf designs in a latte. I know who charges for Internet access and how to tether my phone to my computer to circumvent that and make the best of my limitless data plan. I know the password for the network at one place and I know that the wine shop across the street has faster wi-fi that’s free. I know which place doesn’t have wi-fi. (So, so freakish.) I know to keep a pack of gum in my purse to get rid of that coffee aftertaste on my tongue. I know who closes at 6:30pm and who closes at 9:30pm. I know not to go to one place between 1:00pm-4:00pm on weekdays because all the seats near electric sockets will be full. I know not to go to another place, ever, because all the hippies hog the seats all day. I know which place is the quietest and which one is more of a meeting place. I know which place serves sandwiches and that they shut down the kitchen at 2:00pm. I know who serves coffee in paper cups instead of a much nicer mug when you order it “for here.” I hate that the place with the coconut flavored decaf is so far away. I know which place has tables at the best ergonomic height and which one’s tables cause me to slouch and aggravate my headache after two hours. I know which tables are wobbly and how many napkins to stick under one leg to steady them. I know that one place gets awful afternoon sunlight glare, so I should only go there on rainy days. I know to bring a jacket to the place that has the air conditioning ramped up to the icicle setting.

So, yeah. I know WAY too much about the coffee shops in this town.

Hanging out at these places has also let me overhear strange conversations and see some…interesting people. Last week I went to read at the place with the cushiest chairs, but someone else had gotten there first. To nap. And snore. LOUDLY. I couldn’t even drown it out with my MP3 player and headphones (which are part of my Essential Coffee Shop Accessories Kit®, along with a computer mouse and a small screwdriver set). The very next day at a totally different coffee shop, a totally different guy was sleeping at the table next to me, snoring, though not as loudly as the first guy.

Obviously the baristas have switched everything out with decaf.

It’s also strange how many serious conversations you can overhear at these places. A father and daughter were sitting at table next to me talking about her sports injury and had a rather tense conversation about his concerns for her health and athletic future. A woman who I think was a professor had a conversation with someone asking if they’d speak on her behalf against some sort of formal complaint. Yesterday someone used the word “anonymize” in conversation which I’m not sure is a real word or not. Different dictionaries seem to have different opinions on this.

And of course, there’s always the customer who bitches about the price of coffee.

I’ve left places because the person next to me had the worst case of body odor ever. I’ve left because someone kept sneezing and hacking, and ever since I saw that episode of Mythbusters I know that the germs go EVERYWHERE. I’ve left because two boys were dicking around on the Internet for HOURS and giggling every minute, putting any school girl to shame.

There are also the people with weird hats, cool shoes, and the occasional person with very short arms, probably due to a genetic issue, who I tried very hard not to stare at but felt guilty for glancing at twice.

Anyway, it’s interesting being part of this coffee shop culture. It’s fluid and ever changing, like a river made of people and their quirks. Perhaps some of the baristas or other regulars have noticed me as that girl who’s always working on her laptop. I hope they don’t mind that I’m seeing other coffee shops. I thought about putting a sticker on my laptop from one place, but thought that might seem rude to the other coffee shops, like coming home with lipstick on my collar.

I should probably get back to work now and maybe get a refill (only $0.87) because, of course, I’m writing this from a coffee shop.

“Oh, why?” I asked hesitantly, trying to remember if today was her wedding anniversary, divorce anniversary or some other anniversary.

“They’ve discontinued my General Foods International Orange Cappuccino!” She wailed.

I cannot remember a time in my life when my mother did not drink the General Foods International Orange Cappuccino. There was always one or two of the small rectangular tins on our kitchen counter, one full of the instant coffee mix and one containing drained grease. The tins were metal and wouldn’t melt when hot liquid grease was poured into them after cooking.

But now, just like my lamented Strawberry Shredded Wheat, the Orange Cappuccino is missing from the shelves of Target, Kroger and Meijer. When I visited the General Foods web site, they have a listing for Orange Spice Latte in the place of the the old Orange Cappuccino page. According to comments on this page, the Orange Spice Latte flavor does not taste the same.

I wish they would warn people before discontinuing a line of food. Then people could stock up and buy several cases in preparation of the loss of their favorite foods. Oh well! Farewell, Orange Cappuccino, I shall miss seeing your tins on my mother’s kitchen counter.

I remembered that Quaker Oats is owned by the same company that makes Diet Pepsi as well as other products like Tropicana and Lays Potato Chips, as illustrated in this photo of the lobby above. (This photo also makes me think “I need to lose 10 pounds” which is why I didn’t post it before. Oh, body image, how you toy with me!) I decided to suck up real good by cooking a bowl of quick oats in Diet Pepsi.

Please don’t try this at home. (No, really, don’t. You have been warned.)

After spitting out that hideous concoction into the trash, I remembered a commenter who told me mangoes and hot sauce tasted good together. Entries were going to be judged on creativity as well as convenience and taste. Intrigued, I bought some mangoes with the idea of naming my creation Tropical Spicy Delight. Then I actually ate mangoes and hot sauce together and decided that was a worse idea than Lays Potato Chip Oatmeal.

Out of inspiration, I looked in my cupboards and saw that I stored my oatmeal right next to the instant coffee. (Uh, yes, that’s Kroger brand oatmeal. Don’t tell the Quaker Oats people!)

Having recently become a coffee addict, I said, “What the hell! Let’s just mix a cup of coffee in with the oatmeal! It’ll save me time in the morning.” So I did and it didn’t taste half bad, at least after I added the sweetener and milk. It didn’t have many ingredients, though we could add up to 10, but I decided it was convenient and fairly tasty. My brother, who just graduated from business school, said coffee flavorings were hot. Thus, I named it Oatmeal Expresso and sent it in.

The deadline passed and I hadn’t heard anything, so I thought one of the food bloggers had kicked my ass by using real ingredients like fruit.

Then I got a voice mail saying Quaker had very exciting news for me and to call them back please. Unfortunately I got the message after office hours and had to wait a day to find out what they wanted. The optimistic part of me hoped I had won, but the pessimistic part made me think I was one of two finalists who would have to fly to New York for a sudden death round of oatmeal wrestling. The really pessimistic part of me imagined the other finalist would be Miz Fit, whose eyeballs are more in shape than my entire body.

I finally called them back the next day and guess what? Oh no, you already guessed? Well, you’re right! I won! And I didn’t have to force another blogger into a hammer lock to do so. It made me so happy I got off my ass and ran for 30 minutes, which is something I have not been doing enough of lately.

In many ways this has been both the best and worst year of my life. It’s been like eating an ice cream cake covered in fecal flavored frosting. There’s been a lot of creamy, vanilla, chocolate goodness, but there’s been a lot of shit too. It’s nice to know that good things can still happen.

So, I shall go to the oatmeal festival and I shall visit the world’s largest topping bar and I shall report back to you, assuming I do not go splat into a tree on the bunny slopes.

Here is my winning recipe, Oatmeal Expresso, which I also considered naming these titles, many of them inspired by Mo’s oat puns:

Capp-oat-ccino Delight

Morning Moch-oat Delight

Mocha Cup-of-oats Delight

Mocha Oats in the morning

Morning Moch-oat Surprise

Morning Mocha Express-oats

Cappuccino Express-oats

Cappuccin-oat Delight

Oatmeal Expresso

3/4 cup Quaker Quick Oats

2 teaspoons instant coffee

3 teaspoons Splenda

1/4 cup skim milk

1/2 cup water

Save time in the morning by combining your cup of coffee with a heart healthy breakfast. Quick and easy, this recipe will give you a shot of energy in the morning that also keeps you full until lunch time.

Combine the Quaker Quick Oats, instant coffee and Splenda. Mix in the skim milk and water. Microwave the mixture for one minute and 45 seconds. Enjoy!

Also, thanks to everyone who left feedback on yesterday’s entry. It was…interesting (just as I predicted). Looks like I drove off some people who probably shouldn’t have been hanging around here anyway. It’s good to shake down the blog every once in a while. It keeps the site minty fresh. And everyone who said “Oh, no, just say whatever you want to! It’s your blog!” after my defensive blogging post might now have a little insight as to why I laughed my ass off after reading that advice.

BTW, I also wanted to thank everyone who has clicked through on my Amazon links. I meant to thank you on Saturday in my “Elsewhere” entry, but I was too tired to turn the computer back on and edit it, just like I’m too lazy to link to that entry right now. Anyway, I really do appreciate the support and hope the goodwill you put out into the world comes back onto you threefold.

I also wanted to clarify one thing. I am truly grateful for all the support I’ve gotten on this blog, from people who’ve recommended my book or bought it for friends, to people who’ve bought products through my links, or just to people who’ve read all the entries and given me lots of pageviews. You’ve been awesome. However, all that means is that I owe you a thank you.

Thank you.

I was struck by the sense of ownership some people expressed over me in my previous entry. You can buy a book with my name and my picture on it, but you don’t buy me with it. I’m happy to invite you to hang out here. I love the community we’ve built. But I belong to myself and no one else. My book and your click-throughs are not a remote via which you control me. You don’t own me, but I’m happy to share a part of myself with you. Thank you to everyone who understands and respects that.

This time I’m giving away two Starbucks Gold cards, a special card that gives you 10% off most purchases, among other things. It’s also black and shiny gold and can make you feel fancy (almost like having a rare black American Express card).

One of the features of the Starbucks Gold card is that you can share your 10% discount with a friend. To enter the giveaway, leave a comment on this entry telling me who you would share your discount with by 11:59pm on Sunday, December 7th. A winner will be chosen randomly. Anyone in any country can enter, but I don’t know if the card will work everywhere in the world.

I’ve been feeling a bit sleepy during the day lately. I’m not really sure why. I’ve been getting enough sleep and I’ve been eating normally. The paranoid part of my brain suspects that this is the first sign of a horrible, painful, terminal illness and months from now I will look back and wonder why I ignored the subtle warning signs and didn’t get treatment early. In reality, I’ve probably just been working too hard. Sleepy as I may be, I don’t normally drink coffee. It took me two months to spend the $10 Starbucks card I got for Christmas. I’m a diet soda addict, and proud of it. None of that coffee addiction for me! No sirree! I may feed quarters into the vending machine in desperation for a Diet Dr. Pepper at the end of the day, but I could always look down my nose at those fools who stuffed dollar bills into the Starbucks’ barista’s hand in the mid-afternoon.

Then last week I went out with some coworkers to try the new “skinny” latte at Starbucks which is fat-free and sugar-free, but still has 90 calories. It really perked me up. A couple mornings later I was considering napping on my space bar, but I decided to grab a cup of coffee from the pot instead. After consuming the warm drink, I decided to look up how many calories of damage it had done me. I don’t really count calories, but when I try something new I like to get a sense of how many it contains. I entered the words “coffee calories” into Google, hit return, and was stunned to discover that one cup has about 9 calories. Nine calories! I was expecting at least 40 or 50. If the skinny latte had 90 and there wasn’t any sugar or fat in it, the calories were all in the coffee, right? My mom likes to drink Kraft’s International Flavored Coffees, and I know those have about 60 calories. And coffee is made from beans, which have calories. So coffee should have calories, right? It’s all brown and thick looking. It must have calories! Only it doesn’t. It’s no worse than all the Crystal Lite I drink (when we’re just talking calories).

Curious, I then looked up tea and discovered that it has even less calories. I’m not sure how I’ve gone over a quarter of a century without realizing this. I haven’t felt this stupid since the time I discovered I was tying my shows incorrectly. So, I think I’m going to start drinking coffee. I used to think it tasted like ass, but I’ve noticed that if you keep trying a food or drink over and over again you can usually start to tolerate it and sometimes even start to enjoy it. It’s called “acquired taste” because you have to acquire it. All the artificial sweetener helps too. And before anyone starts, yes, I know all the caffeine in coffee will give me webbed toes and three-headed babies and turn my teeth brown. And the artificial sweetener is actually making me fatter if the experiments with rats are true. I don’t care. I’m going to start drinking coffee in the mornings. And hopefully I won’t fall asleep in the afternoon. And hopefully I don’t have cancer and the coffee won’t start causing it.

A Dunkin’ Donuts! In Indy! Don’t they know this is Krispy Kreme country? Actually, the south is the die-hard Krispy Kreme territory and Indiana is more like a border state. I sense a turf war coming on. I hope I don’t get caught in the crossfire when donut shop employees start shooting donut holes at one another. Dunkin’ Donuts is mostly a northeastern and mid-Atlantic food chain. When I visited Boston last year there seemed to be one on every corner. It reminded me of the movie Demolition Man where in the future all restaurants are Taco Bell. In Boston all restaurants are Dunkin’ Donuts. According to Inside Indiana Business, Dunkin’ Donuts plans to open 80 new stores in the Indianapolis area in the next 6 years. The first two opened in September and they even donated money to the Special Olympics at the opening to make people like them.

There are only a couple Krispy Kremes in Indianapolis and none of them are near me. However, the local Kroger sells boxes of them, usually located near the front of the store in an evil marketing campaign to get people to break their diets (which worked rather well back in 2004 when I fell off the wagon.) I don’t think I’ve eaten any Dunkin’ Donuts recently, nor do I have any plans to, so I don’t know whose product is actually superior. I do have several childhood memories associated with Krispy Kreme though. We’d eat them before quick recall tournaments. It was fun driving by a store and seeing the light turned on to indicate donuts were fresh and hot out of the oven. Krispy Kreme glazed donuts are best eaten hot. Once when I was waiting in a long drive-through line with a friend they actually gave us free donuts to apologize for the wait. So, even though I don’t really eat donuts much anymore, my loyalty is with Krispy Kreme.

The interesting thing is that according to an article originally published by The Boston Globe, Dunkin Donuts is a “coffee company disguised as a doughnut company. Fifty percent of their sales come from coffee, whereas Krispy Kreme does 90% of its sales in donuts. I guess you do need something to dunk your donut in if your store is called Dunkin Donuts. Starbucks is one of their main competitors, which is funny since a Starbucks just opened on my way to work. It’s screwed up my traffic pattern since people now pull out of the parking lot directly at the point in the right lane where I usually merge into it. There was already one Starbucks on the way to work, but somebody got shot in their parking lot the other month. Be careful, you want the drive-through not a drive-by. Thankfully, I don’t like coffee, otherwise I might think the makers of full-fat lattes were stalking me. It’s harder to avoid tasty foods when they start plopping them down right there on your daily travel routes.

There is also a White Castle on the way home from work, which they tore down and rebuilt recently. There is a time in my life when the two-month disappearance of small, square burgers would have been devastating to me. If I had never lost weight, I’m sure I would have been stopping at that conveniently placed fast-food restaurant all the time. Thankfully, I learned how to cook and I’m not dependent on my ability to roll down a window to get a meal, so I was completely unaffected by its demolition and reappearance. I think the appearance of these 80 Dunkin’ Donuts will similarly have little affect on me. It’ll be just one more place to drive by without driving through. And hopefully no one will get shot there, with bullets or donut holes.