So I am a coffee snob. Anyone who knows me would know that my ability to find a superior coffee within the vicinity in which I frequent directly impacts my immediate and foreseeable future.
My snobbery towards coffee would suggest my belief that Starbucks or any coffee chain serve mediocre and sub par coffee and should not receive my custom.
However, I am willing to release all of my caffeinated hang-ups for a 20-minute immersion in an experience that surpasses my desire for a quality coffee bean.
You walk in to any Starbucks and you could feel like you are anywhere in the world, you order from one counter, wait for your order to be called out from another, and around the world your coffee is served in the same over-sized white and green cup.
So what is it? What is it that sees this coffee lover lower such standards?
Well, it is pretty simple really:
I spot a Starbucks across the street in Surfers Paradise, and I am transported to 2009 when I was in New York City where everyday started with finding our closest Starbucks to plan our day, re-gather for more adventures or debrief our day over a skim flat white, and extra strong Grande hot chocolate.
I walk in to a Starbucks in the QVB in Sydney and I am transported to 2005 to Bondi Junction, my first year of university where I would sit and pour over books and feel completely overwhelmed, and questioning more than life choices. Then Mum would join me and the books were put away and the more important task of analyzing this season’s fashion walking back and forward was critiqued.
When I order my now Skim Flat white in George St Sydney, I am taken back to my first coffee experience, drinking a coffee put in front of me by a new boss. Staring at the liquid thinking I had to drink it for the sake of the job. It was a mocha, a drink my two friends let me consume for 8 months before they told me I need to mature as a coffee drinker and wouldn’t let me order anything other than a flat white.
I wait for my coffee order at a Starbucks in Mooloolaba, and wait for an alternative name to be called with my order (because the pain of listening to them stumble through “Siobhan” is too painful) it reminds me of all the bizarre nicknames I have received over the years. My year 2 class gave me Shanaby, my year 10 class gave me Seany, my university friends gave me Trashbag, surf club friends Shiv and variations including Shev, triathlon friends have avoided name association and landed at height associations resorting to Midget.
And I sit sipping what is probably more milk with water than coffee with milk and I am taken to the future. Some days when the world feels dark it takes me to the life I am planning to live, a life living as a journalist in New York, or as a professional triathlete travelling the globe.
Wow, all of this for the very low price of a $4 coffee? I am sure this is in Starbucks marketing plan somewhere, “to sell a culture” or some other version of marketing rhetoric. But in a sick sense it works.
This coffee snob (only every now and then) takes a trip down memory lane or checks out the freeway of the future with the help of a mediocre coffee – anywhere in the world.
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
Saturday, June 18, 2011
Songs That Say Something...
Running one afternoon, I was tired and the 30 minutes I was out to run for felt about 90 and my mind began to wander. My iPod wasn’t filled with psyche up, fast moving music, in fact in many cases the opposite. There are a number of songs on my iPod that if anyone found it and played it with think I had lost the plot. But there are a number of songs on there that bring me to a place I can’t explain, and gives me an indescribable feeling – the only way to begin to describe them is as my own personal nirvana. In any case I will attempt to explain the music that makes my blood run a little warmer, give my soul life and is the eclectic soundtrack to my life.
Frank Sinatra - New York New York
This is a song that at 19 years of age, after a few glasses of wine had me waking up the entire house belting out this tune. It brought me to an imagined time in a wonderful city full of magic and bright lights. When I would hear this song, I would imagine myself in the streets of New York, in wine bars, at Broadway shows, being romantically wooed by a stylish 1950s gentleman. At age 22 when I stepped out of a taxi at 2am with Mum in the middle of Time Square – there were no romantic gestures but an excitement I had never felt before. My time in New York was amazing and sharing it with Mum in the midst of a gorgeous New York summer was something I cannot begin to describe.
Now when I hear this song running, it hardly provides a beat to step up the pace, but puts a smile on my face. It reminds me that the best things in life are free, and the moment that years of dreaming to visit New York became a reality is enough to keep this song on my iPod.
The killers - Mr Brightside
Perhaps this song is the song that means more to me than any other in the world. It was the sound track to my life at university. It was played on road trips with the girls, sung loudly in bars at 5am, and danced to at festivals as the sun set slowly behind the stage. But more importantly it is the song that reminds me of the first real friends that I met that love me with all my faults.
These people are wonderfully talented people who live life with such enthusiasm it is infectious. Some of the best moments that I have had in the past 8 years have been because of these people and this song. One particular moment was at a music festival and there were about 16 of us. We had all been separated but we made sure that we were all in the vicinity to see The Killers play. They are friends that I can count on through thick and thin, they are people who I do not see as much as I should and when I’m listening to my iPod this song comes on and I think about these wonderful people who make my life a little brighter knowing they are in it.
Edit Piaf – Milord
This song reminds that perhaps I was probably born a number of centuries too late and perhaps also on the wrong continent. My love affair with all things French is very cliché given I have never been there, and my pathetic attempts to learn the language see me still only being able to say, Je suis heureuse de vous connaitre (a very polite way of saying, ‘please to meet you’ and would more than likely only use it if you were meeting a French queen)
The wonderfully somber lyrics of a lonely woman set to the back drop of a wonderfully upbeat tune sums up my swirling mass of contradictions that exist within myself. To hear it takes me to a wonderfully romantic period that really is completely unrealistic and there was still misery, and ¾ of the way through a long run this makes me a little bit happier. I also like thinking what the people I pass would think if they knew I was ‘psyching up’ to a 1930s French alcoholic’s words.
Florence and the Machine – Dog Days are Over
The only thing harder than get up before 5.30am in the morning to train, is getting up at 5.30am to train in the dead of a Sydney miserable winter. The Monday, Wednesday, Friday swimming rut went something a like this: Alarm goes off at 5.30, stumble to bathroom, brush my teeth, kitchen to make toast and tea to take to swimming. Gather my belongings, question what F I am doing, and Callum would pull up right on 5.40 (don’t be naughty).
I would always get in the car in a terrible mood, Callum would sigh* and I know we both feel the same way. Flo would be cranked up and we would dance stupidly from Bronte to Ultimo on a completely natural high, before we emerged from the car having completed a vicious circle and we were both back to the point of questioning life choices.
This song reminds me of my wonderfully dear friend Callum, who is the voice in my head who says what I am thinking, but also the voice of reason when I need it. We may joke about our ‘ruts’ or how sad our lives are when it consists of Campos Coffee and Harris Farm Markets, but truly the day I met him, I met a friend for life!
Marina and the Diamonds – I Am Not a Robot
A very very new addition to my days, but a song that I fell in love with upon first hearing it. A song that resonated quite well with what was going on in my life when I first heard it. At the backend of the 2010/11 triathlon season, I was well and truly done with racing, I was exhausted, and very quickly losing focus and a head filled with a million and one things about where I wanted to go. However, I was too proud to admit this to anyone. Anyway, enough of the sob story, having this on repeat for about 3 weeks was enough to put a smile on my face and remind me that , “don’t be so pathetic, open and up and see that I am vulnerable… and guess what? I am not a robot.”
Lady GaGa - Telephone
An interesting song in it self, let alone as to why I like it. One freezing Sydney winter morning, as Dad and I drove over the harbor bridge to the dark side to ride through the Ku-Ring-Gai park, I played this song and as soon as it came on Dad started bouncing around like a mad man. My initial shock soon surpassed and I joined in. This was an amazing time for Dad and myself. As Dad embarked on his quest to complete an Ironman triathlon, he joined my training squad. To see the terrible conditions he endured, and the mental and physical hurdles he overcame to compete was nothing short of inspiring. To see Dad cross the line at Busselton made me so proud to see what my Dad can achieve.
So, really I am not inspired by a beat or rhythm, I am inspired by the wonderful people I have in my life. This I know is true. Everyday I will receive a call or a text or some other 20th century communication from a wonderful person. This reminds me that whatever we achieve is nothing without people to share it with.
Frank Sinatra - New York New York
This is a song that at 19 years of age, after a few glasses of wine had me waking up the entire house belting out this tune. It brought me to an imagined time in a wonderful city full of magic and bright lights. When I would hear this song, I would imagine myself in the streets of New York, in wine bars, at Broadway shows, being romantically wooed by a stylish 1950s gentleman. At age 22 when I stepped out of a taxi at 2am with Mum in the middle of Time Square – there were no romantic gestures but an excitement I had never felt before. My time in New York was amazing and sharing it with Mum in the midst of a gorgeous New York summer was something I cannot begin to describe.
Now when I hear this song running, it hardly provides a beat to step up the pace, but puts a smile on my face. It reminds me that the best things in life are free, and the moment that years of dreaming to visit New York became a reality is enough to keep this song on my iPod.
The killers - Mr Brightside
Perhaps this song is the song that means more to me than any other in the world. It was the sound track to my life at university. It was played on road trips with the girls, sung loudly in bars at 5am, and danced to at festivals as the sun set slowly behind the stage. But more importantly it is the song that reminds me of the first real friends that I met that love me with all my faults.
These people are wonderfully talented people who live life with such enthusiasm it is infectious. Some of the best moments that I have had in the past 8 years have been because of these people and this song. One particular moment was at a music festival and there were about 16 of us. We had all been separated but we made sure that we were all in the vicinity to see The Killers play. They are friends that I can count on through thick and thin, they are people who I do not see as much as I should and when I’m listening to my iPod this song comes on and I think about these wonderful people who make my life a little brighter knowing they are in it.
Edit Piaf – Milord
This song reminds that perhaps I was probably born a number of centuries too late and perhaps also on the wrong continent. My love affair with all things French is very cliché given I have never been there, and my pathetic attempts to learn the language see me still only being able to say, Je suis heureuse de vous connaitre (a very polite way of saying, ‘please to meet you’ and would more than likely only use it if you were meeting a French queen)
The wonderfully somber lyrics of a lonely woman set to the back drop of a wonderfully upbeat tune sums up my swirling mass of contradictions that exist within myself. To hear it takes me to a wonderfully romantic period that really is completely unrealistic and there was still misery, and ¾ of the way through a long run this makes me a little bit happier. I also like thinking what the people I pass would think if they knew I was ‘psyching up’ to a 1930s French alcoholic’s words.
Florence and the Machine – Dog Days are Over
The only thing harder than get up before 5.30am in the morning to train, is getting up at 5.30am to train in the dead of a Sydney miserable winter. The Monday, Wednesday, Friday swimming rut went something a like this: Alarm goes off at 5.30, stumble to bathroom, brush my teeth, kitchen to make toast and tea to take to swimming. Gather my belongings, question what F I am doing, and Callum would pull up right on 5.40 (don’t be naughty).
I would always get in the car in a terrible mood, Callum would sigh* and I know we both feel the same way. Flo would be cranked up and we would dance stupidly from Bronte to Ultimo on a completely natural high, before we emerged from the car having completed a vicious circle and we were both back to the point of questioning life choices.
This song reminds me of my wonderfully dear friend Callum, who is the voice in my head who says what I am thinking, but also the voice of reason when I need it. We may joke about our ‘ruts’ or how sad our lives are when it consists of Campos Coffee and Harris Farm Markets, but truly the day I met him, I met a friend for life!
Marina and the Diamonds – I Am Not a Robot
A very very new addition to my days, but a song that I fell in love with upon first hearing it. A song that resonated quite well with what was going on in my life when I first heard it. At the backend of the 2010/11 triathlon season, I was well and truly done with racing, I was exhausted, and very quickly losing focus and a head filled with a million and one things about where I wanted to go. However, I was too proud to admit this to anyone. Anyway, enough of the sob story, having this on repeat for about 3 weeks was enough to put a smile on my face and remind me that , “don’t be so pathetic, open and up and see that I am vulnerable… and guess what? I am not a robot.”
Lady GaGa - Telephone
An interesting song in it self, let alone as to why I like it. One freezing Sydney winter morning, as Dad and I drove over the harbor bridge to the dark side to ride through the Ku-Ring-Gai park, I played this song and as soon as it came on Dad started bouncing around like a mad man. My initial shock soon surpassed and I joined in. This was an amazing time for Dad and myself. As Dad embarked on his quest to complete an Ironman triathlon, he joined my training squad. To see the terrible conditions he endured, and the mental and physical hurdles he overcame to compete was nothing short of inspiring. To see Dad cross the line at Busselton made me so proud to see what my Dad can achieve.
So, really I am not inspired by a beat or rhythm, I am inspired by the wonderful people I have in my life. This I know is true. Everyday I will receive a call or a text or some other 20th century communication from a wonderful person. This reminds me that whatever we achieve is nothing without people to share it with.
Sunday, January 16, 2011
A 4 Month Haitus.... Siobhan Who?
So I could write some awesome post about how much racing I have done and how hard I have been training...but I am 100% sure anybody anywhere with any sort of goal would be doing the same as me, and no one wants to hear long race reports, and excuses why one didn't win the race they probably should have or how awesome they are with all the races they are winning
In between 2 separate camps in the 1st week of January, Matilda's Mum, Sam met us in Canberra whilst we waited our flight to head to a Triathlon NSW. Whilst I dragged them both to Parliament House (Matilda was LESS THAN IMPRESSED) We sat in the House of Reps discussing all of life's tales. Sam told us that everyday we had to think of 5 things we are thankful for. So I thought I would leave out the triathlon talk, and the other stuff and outline 5 things I am thankful for.
1. Mum & Dad - they are by far my biggest fans. In fact Canberra Half Ironman saw them both sporting numerous blisters on their fingers from ringing cowbells. They are the ones who offer me the "nice cup of tea" when I need cheering up, tell me to stop whinging when I am tired, and listen to me rant about every odd observation I make about anything.
2. A piece of paper and pen - I can talk ALOT, and could probably talk under water with enough practice. The amount of rubbish that I talk is probably 30% of what actually runs around in my head. Being able to write my thoughts, my dreams, my hopes, my fears gives me perspective on everything. One day I hope my internal monologue will amount to something resembling somewhat a piece of readable prose, as opposed to utter nonsense.
3. A good pair of sunglasses - The way we see the world can be brightened by a fun pair of sunglasses. If it makes someone laugh, or you become the butt of a joke, you know life 'aint so bad. Quite often I wear purple glasses, heart shaped glasses, clear glasses to training or even out. Why? Well, why not? If the look of a footpath looks brighter through a pair of multicolour aviators - that 2hr run just got a whole let less monotonous.
4. Music - my iTunes is stacked with every genre to suit my every mood. I have Beethoven to inspire me -The greatness of a large orchestra with every instrument playing to create one tune reminds me that greatness doesn't happen alone, but a collaboration of many. A bit of Eminem to fire me up, Celine Dion for the romantic Siobhan, Willow Smith for when I just need to 'whip my hair back and forth' And most importantly the band of all bands The Killers, the sound track of my life - without my eclectic collection of music, my life would be too quiet and I would be lacking in any form of inspiration.
5. Coffee - My daily ritual of a coffee reminds me that the most simple things in life don't cost a lot. I love my morning coffee with friends, or by myself, at the same cafe, with the same talk. The 30 second flick through The Telegraph whilst the coffee is brewed and the first sip of coffee is my favourite part of any morning.
So, as I continue training, racing, working & running around like a headless chook, it is nice at the end of every day to remind myself of what I am grateful for. I am thankful for lots, and reminding myself of this make the dark days not so dark and the bright days even brighter.
So when you see me sitting in a coffee shop, sipping coffee, iPod on, wearing ridiculous looking sunglasses, having just spoke to my Mum or Dad on the phone, you know that so long as I have these simple things - life is pretty damn good!
In between 2 separate camps in the 1st week of January, Matilda's Mum, Sam met us in Canberra whilst we waited our flight to head to a Triathlon NSW. Whilst I dragged them both to Parliament House (Matilda was LESS THAN IMPRESSED) We sat in the House of Reps discussing all of life's tales. Sam told us that everyday we had to think of 5 things we are thankful for. So I thought I would leave out the triathlon talk, and the other stuff and outline 5 things I am thankful for.
1. Mum & Dad - they are by far my biggest fans. In fact Canberra Half Ironman saw them both sporting numerous blisters on their fingers from ringing cowbells. They are the ones who offer me the "nice cup of tea" when I need cheering up, tell me to stop whinging when I am tired, and listen to me rant about every odd observation I make about anything.
2. A piece of paper and pen - I can talk ALOT, and could probably talk under water with enough practice. The amount of rubbish that I talk is probably 30% of what actually runs around in my head. Being able to write my thoughts, my dreams, my hopes, my fears gives me perspective on everything. One day I hope my internal monologue will amount to something resembling somewhat a piece of readable prose, as opposed to utter nonsense.
3. A good pair of sunglasses - The way we see the world can be brightened by a fun pair of sunglasses. If it makes someone laugh, or you become the butt of a joke, you know life 'aint so bad. Quite often I wear purple glasses, heart shaped glasses, clear glasses to training or even out. Why? Well, why not? If the look of a footpath looks brighter through a pair of multicolour aviators - that 2hr run just got a whole let less monotonous.
4. Music - my iTunes is stacked with every genre to suit my every mood. I have Beethoven to inspire me -The greatness of a large orchestra with every instrument playing to create one tune reminds me that greatness doesn't happen alone, but a collaboration of many. A bit of Eminem to fire me up, Celine Dion for the romantic Siobhan, Willow Smith for when I just need to 'whip my hair back and forth' And most importantly the band of all bands The Killers, the sound track of my life - without my eclectic collection of music, my life would be too quiet and I would be lacking in any form of inspiration.
5. Coffee - My daily ritual of a coffee reminds me that the most simple things in life don't cost a lot. I love my morning coffee with friends, or by myself, at the same cafe, with the same talk. The 30 second flick through The Telegraph whilst the coffee is brewed and the first sip of coffee is my favourite part of any morning.
So, as I continue training, racing, working & running around like a headless chook, it is nice at the end of every day to remind myself of what I am grateful for. I am thankful for lots, and reminding myself of this make the dark days not so dark and the bright days even brighter.
So when you see me sitting in a coffee shop, sipping coffee, iPod on, wearing ridiculous looking sunglasses, having just spoke to my Mum or Dad on the phone, you know that so long as I have these simple things - life is pretty damn good!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
