I love a good coffee mug
The current top three in my rotation
I love coffee mugs. It became a problem years ago, and I started coming home with duplicates. My roommate was one step short of holding an intervention before a move from Florida to Maine forced me to downsize.
An exercise we previously had completed with a glutton of collected (read: stolen) pint glasses, the roommate and I cleansed the mugs while packing. She’d hold a mug up and start counting. If she got to 10 before I could tell her where the mug was from and why it was important to me, bye Felicia.
Painful at first, the exercise was beneficial in the end. I still have a healthy amount of coffee mugs, and I can’t think of one that I miss.
Here are three mugs that have recently been high in the rotation.
Glory, glory to Old Georgia
In case you missed it, Georgia won the natty recently, I don’t like using that word, “natty”. But all the kids are saying it on the Twitters and chat boards, so I don’t want to seem like a total outsider. Before the confetti was done falling after the College Football Playoff Championship Game, my roommate had already ordered me a commemorative t-shirt and this beauty. I love her (the roommate too):

Storyville Seattle
A few years ago, the roommate and I were in Washington for a vacation. We did a couple days in Seattle and the majority of our time out on the Olympic peninsula. While in Seattle, we drank a ton of coffee. Aside from the stereotypical visit to the original Starbucks, we popped into a bunch of other coffee spots. One of these was Storyville Coffee. The coffee was great, I’m really a sucker for a good logo. The little kid with the plane melted my heart.

Six degrees of Aaron Sorkin
During the search process for a new Executive Director at my future-former 9 to 5, the staff got a chance to chat with each candidate. In smalltalking with the eventual winner, we got on the subject of Aaron Sorkin shows. It turns out, she too has an illogical love for The West Wing. At our first company holiday gift exchange later that year, she brought me this:

Once again, the roommate was right. I can’t tell you one mug that we chucked in our moving process. But as I look in the cupboard for a mug, I also see memories.