A Lament for the Mocha Cookie Crumble

There are three key things to note before reading this post that will help it make more sense:

1.     I love chocolate

2.     I’m a Taurus and thus resistant to change

3.     I have mad issues about my birthday

Back in 2012 Starbucks revealed one of their new seasonal drinks: the Mocha Cookie Crumble Frappuccino. At the end of the summer the drink was discontinued, to the dismay of many. Chocolate lovers rejoiced when it came back the next year just in time for Frappuccino happy hour!! When the same rigmarole happened for the third time in 2014 I made the silly mistake of assuming that the Mocha Cookie Crumble Frappuccino would always return in early May.

But this year, Starbucks decided to ruin my world and debut a new Frappuccino instead.

To be fair, I haven’t yet tried the new S’mores Frappuccino. Friends have sung its praises but I’ve been slow to convert. I like S’mores, so in theory it should be good, but I suspect it will never replace the Mocha Cookie Crumble in my heart.

Before you write me off as simply being stubborn, let’s talk about the role the Mocha Cookie Crumble has played in my life. This all goes back to my thing about my birthday.

I do not like my birthday. Deep inside of me is a Lily Aldrin wanting to make it a grand holiday to be recognized and respected by all my friends, but the years have convinced me that instead I’m more Penny of Happy Endings, and that my birthday is cursed. I tried celebrating with small groups of friends, I tried vacations, I tried escaping all people I know… it doesn’t really matter what I do. The birthday curse will find a way to ruin the day.

When the Mocha Cookie Crumble appeared in 2012, I had recently moved to a new city and had no one in the area that actually knew it was my birthday. On the eve of, I drank a lot at a book club happy hour, and then woke up feeling not exactly wonderful early in the morning to fly to Houston for work. Work that day involved my least favorite meeting possible. My flight back got delayed because of thunderstorms, so I ended up coming home very late, very tired, and overall done with the day.

But in general I believe in finding the bright side of life, and that day, it was the Mocha Cookie Crumble. I got one the minute I left the airport in Houston, and you know what? It was amazing. It was chocolatey and delicious, and it helped me make it through an otherwise awful meeting.

That was 2012. In 2013, I decided ahead of time to take work off on my birthday so I wasn’t facing the same situation. My birthday that year was a Friday, and it just so happened I was spending that week in the middle of nowhere New Mexico for work. That was possibly one of the worst work trips of my life. I flew in Monday night, got in late since my flight was delayed, again, then drove 2-3 hours to get to where I needed to be. I was feeling worse and worse during the drive, so as soon as I got to my (not very nice) hotel, I went to sleep. I woke up a few hours later and spent the rest of the night horribly ill.

I sucked it up the next day and went to my onsite, feeling weak and dizzy. This was the first of three days of a cranky, obnoxious group of people that complained that I was too pale (I was sick, also I don’t understand why that’s relevant) and my voice sounded bad (again, sick, but this is a large part of why I now have a complex about my voice) and that also blamed me for the fact that the room we were in had no A/C (seriously, how the f*ck was that my fault?!).

Thursday night I drove back to the airport but it was too late for a flight, so I was spending my birthday, my day off, waking up ungodly early to fly back home. All week though, I looked forward to that flight, because I had a layover in Dallas and while there, I got my first Mocha Cookie Crumble of the year and it was AMAZING, as always. The end of the day ended up much better than I expected.

Even last year, despite suffering through the worst of my knee problems at that point and putting up with idiots who think the best way to celebrate your birthday is to be the designated driver (yes guys, I’m still bitter), I had not one but several Mocha Cookie Crumbles that week, and they kept me sane and happy, and also helped me resist the Diet Pepsi temptation a bit longer.

It wasn’t just birthdays either. Every time I had to drive back and forth to Houston for work stuff that killed my spirit, I made sure to at least plan out where exactly on the drive I was getting my Mocha Cookie Crumble. It got me through the random weeks when I wasn’t sleeping. It made the times where I was working two roles with not enough hours in the day bearable.

So when I started stressing out about my birthday and other things even earlier than usual this year, I kept consoling myself that at least the Mocha Cookie Crumble was coming soon. I asked several Starbucks employees when it was officially coming. No one would answer. Well, this week I figured out why when I stopped at Starbucks for iced tea, saw a sign announcing Frappuccino happy hour to start on Friday, and saw NO MENTION of the Mocha Cookie Crumble. Quick internet research proved that the S’mores had replaced it for the year.

I suppose it’s stupid to care so much about something like a particular coffee drink. Sometimes though I need to care about something stupid, so I can downplay the real problems of the moment. I’m not going to lie – after learning there was no Mocha Cookie Crumble this year I spent all week indulging myself with as much Diet Pepsi as I wanted.

But maybe, just maybe, the S’mores Frappuccino is even better. Maybe I’ll try it and it’ll be angels in my mouth. And maybe it won’t, but it won’t matter because something else random will come along and lift my spirits. I like to believe in the possibilities.   

It’s Only Weird if it Doesn’t Work

It might just be me, but everywhere I looked the past two days had posts about the coming snow storm such as jokes about the “snowquester” and tips for making sure school was cancelled.

Actually this was fairly useful. I learned some new superstitions for ensuring snow days. I already knew the classic pajamas inside out and backwards. I’ve never heard of a “snow dance” but I’ve probably done it unintentionally. Apparently putting ice cubes in the toilet, spoons under beds (or pillows), and white crayons in the freezer also works. Who knew? Not that I really expect much snow in Texas, but it’s better to be prepared.

I take superstitions somewhat to very seriously. It depends on the particular superstition. One of my favorite commercials this year featured various football fans and their superstitions, with the ending line of “it’s only weird if it doesn’t work.” Loved it. So true too! We all know my beloved team, the Steelers, had a bleak season after I was traveling constantly and unable to wear my lucky clothes and watch the games.

Now general superstitions, like breaking mirrors, walking under ladders, and black cats don’t really concern me. In fact the only time I really think about them is when playing one of the best slot machines ever, Hexbreaker. I do, however, have my own superstitions.

You may be already familiar with the “rabbit, rabbit” belief. Basically you’re supposed to say “rabbit, rabbit” on the first day of the month. You have to say it right away, before you say ANYTHING else. Some areas have a variation where you need to say it three times, rather like Beetlejuice. It’s supposed to be good luck. If you manage to say “rabbit, rabbit” first thing on the first of the month, you’re supposed to have an awesome month.

For years as a child I tried this. The problem was I failed miserably at remembering to say it in the morning. Who thinks about things like rabbits when they’re being dragged out of bed and forced to get ready for school?! It wasn’t until high school when I actually started to remember occasionally. And guess what? Every single time I managed to rabbit properly, it was a BAD month. Not like a combination of bad things. More along the lines of some sort of major bad life event happened, such as wrecking cars, unexpected moves, or people dying.

Thus it became clear to me that in my case, “rabbit, rabbit” is actually unlucky.  I now avoid saying it when at all possible. That’s harder than you think, because I may have brainwashed myself enough that sometimes I try to say it in the morning before I fully wake up.

I’m also superstitious about birthdays. Well, just my birthday. I love birthdays for other people! But for me, I consider my birthday bad luck. It never works out well. I see myself rather like Penny in Happy Endings with a birthday curse. This particular belief is so bad that I no longer celebrate my birthday. Generally I won’t even acknowledge when it is. Friends have found many ways to “cheat” the system and I appreciate their efforts and enthusiasm.

My other big superstition, really the end-all-be-all of my crazy beliefs, is around the number three. I consider it super awful bad luck.

This isn’t exactly unique. Actually the character Novalee does the same thing, although with different numbers, in Where the Heart Is. Oddly enough in the book it’s the number seven. In the movie, it’s the number five. I guess they thought it was too weird to think the number seven unlucky.

The number three is my worst unlucky number, but I also distrust the number nine. After all, it’s the number three times three. I don’t particularly like the number six either, but I’ll accept that it’s not as devious.

How do I handle this superstition? I avoid third floors, the third pump at the gas station, and any dangerous events on the third of the month. I’m waaaaaay more cautious in September and March. I drive super carefully anytime my car mileage has an excessive amount of threes or nines.

Like Novalee, this superstition came about after several unlucky events involving the numbers three and nine. What’s worse, in college when I was talked into watching The Exorcism of Emily Rose I learned that 3:00 AM is the “devil’s hour.” Considering I wake up around 3:00 AM almost every single night I find this terrifying, and further proof of bad luck. Allegedly the most deaths also occur between 3-5 AM. PROOF I TELL YOU.

Now if someone woke me up at 3:00 AM on the first of March and made me say “rabbit, rabbit?” in all likelihood I'd probably survive (probably), so I suppose we can't take these things too seriously... unless it's related to football.