Christmas is over and as light fixtures are taken down around us, overpriced kitchen accessories are marked seventy-five percent off. I browsed through the various types of ceramic mugs as my friend ordered in her native tongue.

"I would like a venti non-fat caramel macchiato..."

After ordering tea, I joined her on strategically placed green chairs that reminded me of a love making den of a hippie.
She stretched her arms and sighed.

"People are always complaining about how Starbucks is so trendy. But they do have comfortable couches."

We talked for hours. As we always do.

But today was different.

"We're growing up."

Car payments. Graduate School. Boys. Men. Work. Literature.
But there was more in the mix then our usual brew.

All of our plans were turning into actions.
Turns out that growing up is a huge relief.



Gingerly, I spread the green goop that my mother gave me on my face.
This serum - elixer - tool is supposed to help fight off the battle field occuring on my face.
These fleshy mountains -
which occasionally reach a height that can hold white caps-
have invaded my face. Rather than hide these unwanted landscapes, my mother wants me to fight. Nightly, she calls in to check up on the status of the battle.
Forget the territory around it.
Is it working?
Is the overpriced brand name on your face working?
Is the by-appointment-only ointment of the gods fulfilling the task at hand?

Not really, Mom.