Life Unraveled

The Dalai Lama is a cute, slight, bald whisp of a man. This is my first impression upon seeing His Holiness emerge from behind the curtain, taking center stage amidst a sea of applause and eager anticipation. I have little previous knowledge of the man, and in all honesty have no reason for being here except that when his visit was announced, it made perfect sense that i would be here. Glancing skyward at the huge Jumbotron screen looming over the proceedings, from my seat up high in the nosebleeds, I see him there in all his Dalai Lama-ness, complete with long, flowing maroon robe and matching visor wrapped around his brown, nearly hairless scalp. I cannot recall ever having seen this man before, but he is pretty much exactly as I envisioned. Oh, and one other thing. He is smiling. It's a mile-wide smile to be sure, but unlike any smile I think I have ever laid eyes on. He is grinning as if he has no reservations at all, this little old man in the maroon get-up, perfectly at ...

I did something big last week. I gave my notice at Starbucks. On the surface, this appears to be nothing too huge. After all, having been employed there nearly nine years, it was bound to happen sooner or later. Working in a coffee shop normally represents a transient position for most individuals, the one where you casually buy some time until the "right" job comes along. But not me. I made a career out of it. For me, it was the right job, and for a very long time. I can remember way back in 2003 being an avid Starbucks customer, with a pricey two-a-day habit forming rather quickly. I would stop in for my white chocolate mocha on the way to work (not every morning, just the ones where I wanted to feel really, really good) and then proceed to suck down some form of frothy blended beverage (usually caramel) after lunch. Though I didn't spend much time loafing around the stores, those few magic minutes I would spend at Starbucks became my favorite part of mo...