Specs: These suspiciously handmade-looking mugs are one of my favorite things to hold. Glazed on the inside and with glazed-looking swirls and designs on the outside, the outside belly of the mug is a sturdy kind of grainy to the touch. The mugs come equipped with a bottleneck function, which prevents clumsy people like me from spilling coffee all over themselves as they shift between coffee table and couch (however, the bottleneck does prevent you from accurately seeing all that’s left in the bottom of the mug, so you’ll probably try to throw back “the last gulp” and make a mess that way). The handle is small but that is absolutely made up for in the roundness of the mug. These babies are meant to be fondled, not gingerly held by one or two fingers.
Rating: 5/5 stars. These mugs are dang adorable and I’m used to spilling drinks at least once anyway.
Summary: These mugs are the newest additions to my collection, but they aren’t completely mine.
A couple weekends ago, my boyfriend made plans to meet up with a high school friend in Salt Lake City and invited me along. After plans fell through, my boyfriend and I found ourselves stranded on his parent’s couch with nothing to do on a Saturday night in the city. Luckily, our relationship comes complete with a fallback plan that started months before we started dating: Thrift shopping.
One of the most attractive things in the opposite sex are boys that read, and let me tell you, my baby reads. And the best part of it is that he gets most of his hundreds of books the same way I do–by perusing thrift shops gently, shelf by shelf, title by title. It’s gotten to the point that we try to avoid the book sections for lack of space in his bedroom (which, of course, never works).
Perfectly aware of my blogging endeavors, my boyfriend suggested we look at the secondhand mugs as a futile distraction. Although overwhelmed by the copious amount of used muggery as opposed to my hometown thrift store, this pair immediately caught my eye and the deal was sealed the second I wrapped my hands around them.
It was the luckiest thing in the world that there were two. My boyfriend and I walked out of that store, each with a mug hollowly clunking around in our plastic bags full of books, looking forward to Monday morning.
Besides the ravenous appetite for books, my boyfriend and I have a lot in common. Probably the most important thing, and the thing that would break us if it were any other way, is that we were both raised Mormon and couldn’t come into our own until moving away to college.
In my life, I have dated other Mormons and I have dated atheists, and they were all assholes for a whole bunch of reasons. The worst part of every teenage relationship was that there was a clear lack of understanding of the personal and religious turmoil I was rolling through in those years—religious and nonreligious alike didn’t understand why I wasn’t black or white. They knew what they thought and didn’t understand why I didn’t get it, too. I couldn’t ask questions and I couldn’t start discussions without getting shut down in a sentence or less.
But the guy I’m with now has walked in my metaphorical shoes. He understands why certain things still linger in my gut as wrong from my years of indoctrination, and he shares my same passion for the things I’m brave enough to get angry about. I never get shut down.
And there isn’t anyone I would rather share coffee out of matching mugs with in the morning.