On Coffee Cups and Growing Up

Through my brief, fleeting college years (which have yet to be completed), I have acquired two coffee cups. Officially, I have doubled my coffee cup count and am proud to say that this very minor accomplishment makes me smile. For anyone who has come into my life, one of the first things they probably find out is that I love cats (albeit somewhat irrelevant) and coffee. I make it every morning and, as many addictions go, I get headaches if I haven't had the black caffeine with half and half within an hour of waking. So to have more coffee cups is really something spectacular.

The first one I obtained toward the end of Fall semester my sophomore year. The Honors Program had a small get together with faculty and students and as a TA of these classes, I was invited. There were sandwiches and crackers and fruit spread across the table of a classroom and after we'd all had our fill, there were small gifts for everyone to choose from. Two different colors of coffee cups, stuffed with candies and tissue paper; I naturally chose the dark blue one over the other (it was so unappealing to me I can't even recall the color), ate the candy inside, washed the cup and set it on my shelf for future use. It's a lovely shade of navy blue, one of my school's colors, and it's the type of paint that, when wet, shines and dries in splotches, so slowly that you can see evaporation taking place beneath your nose. It's got a white inside and writing on the outside with my university name and an Honors program logo. It holds a decent amount of coffee, about 3 cups according to my carafe, and I admit I do feel quite sophisticated when drinking from it. I really was excited for this because it would mean I would be able to go an extra day without having to wash my coffee cups.

My second cup I got as a Christmas gift from two friends in my hall a few weeks before winter break in 2011. It also came with candy inside, hot chocolate mix, a homemade Christmas card sending their love from down the hall, and a small stuffed cat wearing a Santa hat. The cup itself has red, green, and yellow squares (with winter designs) in a patchwork style, alternating between red poinsettias, holly berries, and green winter leaves. It's porcelain and white with a yellow and green stamp on the bottom that says "Holiday Seasons" still partially obscured by a stubborn price sticker that won't come off. I remember getting it and feeling bad that I didn't have a gift for them in return, but they assured me that it was okay and that I hoped I liked the cat; I said I did and it is still displayed though Christmas is over. In retrospect, I believe it was the cup that I was most happy for. It's a smaller cup and I use it on days where I don't feel as though I'll be busy, that the extra jolt of caffeine that comes from my bigger cups isn't needed. I also enjoy making tea of the green variety in this cup when nightly homework is at a standstill and I need something to help me focus; after that and putting on some classical music, I am set to go for as long as necessary.

I like to think that I am growing up as I get more coffee cups. Not just because coffee is such an "adult drink" but because it means I'm getting things of my own. Things that I'll use everyday with significant meaning behind them. Not to say that clothes and school supplies are not important to me, especially when I buy them on my own. I didn't even buy the cups; they were gifted to me. But there's just something about these coffee cups that really signifies aging. All my other dishes are from my family, things that are mismatched and will be shown proper usage with me rather than at home. By getting these cups, I feel I'm just one step closer to my own job, my own place, my own family, my own things, becoming more and more separate from my current family. It's a scary thought though, that someday I will have to be taking care of myself, living a life further and further from what I used to know. But maybe my thoughts will shift, that I'll look on the things from my parents with greater appreciation and nostalgia. Plus, eating and drinking are important things in my life and I have mused that maybe this important life force is influencing my admiration of things as simple as kitchenware.

I would like to say that I will be this reflective when I get my own dishes and silverware, but my mother and I have bought and been prepared for that part for quite some time now. So, I will stick to coffee cups for now. I will continue to add to my collection as often as possible and remember fondly each situation in which I have felt a little older through these physical, fragile manifestations of my memory.

I will definitely drink to that.