Coffee Talk - a blog by Amber herself.

Let me say that again, just to be clear. I don't like sports. Was that clearer? When I was in school, I was always chosen last for kickball. Everyone called me "Monkey Girl." My dad always carried a civet with him, regardless of where he was. He would come to my school to have lunch with me, and I would sit on one knee and his civet would sit on the other. But civets aren't monkeys, and I don't look like a civet, so I never understood where my nickname came from.

Back to sports, not that kickball has ever been recognized as a "real" sport, but I have a bad taste about all sports because of kickball.

I would like to see a true world championship where every team of every sport had to compete to see who is the best of all. Imagine if the Angels played the Saints - who would the winning team credit for the win? I think the agnostics would win that one.

I've determined that it's easier to take my pills with coffee. They go down smooth.

Oh, yeah, and I don't like sprouts - looks too much like sports.

My doctor told me that I should follow the directions on my medications more closely. I will try to do that, starting today. Please accept my apology for anything I said yesterday. I may have had a bit too much coffee.

I walk everywhere, mostly because I want to be able to keep an eye on everyone around me. There are so many conspiracy theories floating around these days it seems likely that at least one or two of them are true. Unless the existance of conspiracy theories is fueled by a real conspiracy - keep the public watching each other so they don't see the real thing. You know the way these things work. Anyway I walk. Everywhere. Walking to the gas station was the worst because I only have a one gallon gas can. It took me all day to fill up. Fortunately, because I walk everywhere, I only needed to fill up once. Anyway. I walk. Walking is a natural energizer - I don't think it's a coincidence that that battery bunny is always shown walking. So I have a lot of energy. Of course, I also drink a lot of coffee. It's everywhere. I keep telling my staff that they should try to sell some of it, that I can't possibly drink it all myself. I have the funniest looking staff. Funny looks all around. To recap ... walk, energy, drink coffee, thick and black. And watch your back.

I just found my journal under last week's Enquirer. I have broken my promise to write every day. Well, as they say, promises were made to be broken.

I learned that from my dad. He told me that at the airport, the day after my eighth birthday. He was coming home from Madagascar, and his civet named Garfield got stuck in customs. He spent the night at the airport instead of coming home for my birthday party. My dad taught me all of life's important lessons. Thanks, dad!

Coffee me up. There's no end to my love of coffee. With enough coffee in me, I could see through walls. I know I can dream with my eyes open (if the coffee is strong enough). One time, I started drinking coffee and after a couple of days, I started think of things you could say using only seven or ten letters (seven for local calls), and then I would dial those letters on a telephone and tell the person that answered what their phone number spells. Most people didn't care if their phone number was "red gophers" or "pants afire" or "open island", but I did. I made a list. I called one number - "I love ya" - and the guy on the phone sounded kinda creeped out so I unplugged the coffee pot and took a nap for a few days. Bring on the coffee adventures.

Dear Journal:

If it's alright with you, I don't think I'll write "Dear Journal" at the start of every page. I'm really looking forward to writing something here every day. Writing in here is fun. I like my journal. It's where I write.

I guess that's all I have to say today.

Dear Journal:

I am going to write a journal. My life is so jam packed with excitement, I want to share with the world.

There was another article in the newspaper today about me. They always make a point to call out my disdain for computers. That makes me so eeeeeeahhhhhhmmmblech! Ah. I feel better now.

I was crossing the street this morning and I was nearly run down by a car. The guy was driving like he was three blocks from home and had to pee. Do you know why, journal? Of course you do, because you are me. It's all the fault of computers. It's perfectly clear when you look at the advertising for computers. It's all about faster this and faster that. By using computers, people are being trained to be impatient.

Our entire species is on a collision course with terminal velocity. We don't need to computers to make our lives fly by faster. That's why we have coffee.