Confessions of a Former Barista

Coffee lovers, prepare to throw your tomatoes:

In 2018-2019, I worked at a bustling Starbucks in the heart of downtown Portland, Oregon, right across the street from City Hall. At that time, there was a bit of pride to being a Starbucks worker, especially so close to headquarters and the original store in Seattle–this was also, arguably, their peak social awareness era, famously shutting down their stores for a day in order to facilitate anti-discrimination training, following a very public racially-motivated incident in Philadelphia earlier that year. (Since then, unfortunately, Starbucks as a corporation has made more and more unfortunate decisions, and I gladly support the baristas currently attempting to unionize and improve circumstances.)

I spent many, many mornings parallel-parking my huge hand-me-down Chevy Silverado in downtown Portland at 4:30AM, running the peak opening shift from 5-9, and then somehow taking a nap and then doing rehearsals/performances of Mamma Mia! in the evenings until after 11PM… and I still managed to avoid caffeine addiction, despite all the free espresso. I was never the fastest at the bar, but I held my own, even when making Mike’s horrible 4-shots-espresso-4-pumps-mocha-4-pumps-white-mocha-heavy-cream-no-ice-iced-latte on repeat. This was also the era of the keto diet, so everyone was convinced a heavy cream latte was better for them than their usual soy vanilla… oy vey.

Anyway, credentials verified: confession time.

These days, I start my day with french-press black coffee, sometimes with a splash of cold oat milk.

I don’t make the coffee, my husband does. He’s never been a barista.

When I inevitably forget about my coffee long enough for it to go tepid, I top it off with whatever is left in the french press (which, awkwardly for our household, only brews three cups’ worth).

If the press is empty and we decide we need more, I just sprinkle fresh grounds on top of what’s already there, and re-brew as-is.

If the press is empty but my coffee is cold, I just turn on the electric kettle, and top up my cup with hot water, weakening the coffee.

If I forget the coffee until cold multiple times, I will continue topping it off with hot water, until it is a weak facsimile of what it used to be, basically brown hot water, and this continues in perpetuity, sometimes until the very end of the day.

We actually have an espresso machine that came with our apartment, and I haven’t learned to use it yet. It’s been 8 months.

Even though I CAN make an excellent coconut-mocha-latte-with-cinnamon-steamed-in, I don’t.

Coffee connoisseurs, I’m aware I commit several unforgivable sins daily. But in the end, the most barista-ish coffee order to have is simply coffee you don’t have to make yourself.

Social Media, the Attention Economy, Art, and Ethics

I have a fraught relationship with Social Media.

It’s wonderful to be able to keep tabs on long-distance friends and relatives, to be able to share thoughts and photos instantly… but it also feels like a moral failing, contributing my labor (however minuscule) to the Attention Economy: allowing Meta, or TikTok, or Twitter, to profit from my ability and desire to communicate and connect with others.

I certainly haven’t always felt this way. I was in 8th grade in 2008, and I vividly remember borrowing my mom’s work BlackBerry for hours after school, sorting through the mobile-incompatible pages to look at Facebook “flair.” We didn’t have regular internet in our home until after I had gone to college, but I still somehow managed to post a LOT of unfiltered, deliciously cringy Millennial-era content on Facebook, which I’m slowly deleting even now. Instagram followed thereafter, and I joyously posted grainy food pics and selfies along with some of the earliest adopters. Twitter was, controversially, my favorite, because I loved reading everyone’s quippy “live-tweeted” thoughts.

This was before those platforms changed, removing chronological feeds, and monetizing via (even more) ads, shopping, and subscription “verification.” This was before I knew what an algorithm was. This was before “meta” was Meta, before Elon Musk bought Twitter, before ChatGPT and Sora, before I had read Digital Minimalism by Cal Newport, before doomscrolling.

The fact of the matter is, Social Media has led us into a new economic model: the Attention Economy. Just like how printed newspapers sell ad space inside, based on their readership, so too can online platforms; the difference is that a newspaper ends on a daily basis, and a website can be endless. Social Media sites earn more money the more time that viewers spend perusing them, and so they are financially incentivized to make those platforms as time-absorbingly addictive as possible–and they do. These platforms have increasingly homogenized, and these days they all operate exactly like slot machines: you never know what each swipe or scroll may bring, and you’ll never get the same page curated twice. Personalized algorithms create bubbles of feedback which uncritically reinforce our views and increase social divisions. The barrier of the internet lets some people feel safe to bully and harass, protected by distance and anonymity. Bot farms produce hundreds of thousands of comments, which can be inflammatory, misleading, or both. Now AI muddles our perception of reality, throwing additional confusion into a time period where “Truth” is both a Social Media platform and a vicious debate. Perhaps worst of all, the Attention Economy steals our time, energy, motivation, dreams, while we barely notice it.

In a society where the average person already makes too little money, the Attention Economy preys upon the last possible resource we have to give: our time. We freely contribute to this maelstrom, in the hopes of getting a tiny fraction of that attention back–in the form of business traffic, outside validation, or internet fame–but there’s no guaranteed return on investment, and the cost is steep. In recent years, more and more studies on Social Media’s effects on us have come out: we know that our attention spans are shortening, our tolerance for mental discomfort is lessening, our memories are suffering, and our collective social stress is through the roof. Unsurprisingly, the same billionaires who head these platforms keep screens away from their own children, sending them to analog schools and keeping their faces offline. Through Social Media use, our self-perception warps, leading to decreased self-esteem, body image issues, and such dystopian trends as “Instagram face.” The popularity of AI has made all of these issues exponentially worse, from the spread of misinformation and scams to increasingly unattainable self-expectations.

“So, Franny, it sounds like you just hate Social Media.”

Well, no. On the bright side, Social Media is in many ways a great equalizer in terms of connection and opportunity, and has completely changed the game when it comes to operating a business and generating publicity. It has enabled thousands of ordinary voices to be heard, artworks to be shared, and vital news and information to be transferred, all faster than ever before.

Herein lies the personal conflict: I’m an artist. I write, paint, take photos, sing, perform. An artist’s job is to share their art, therefore, I must publish my work: moreover, I believe in increasing access to art as a whole. Because of the way the world has developed, these platforms continue to be the most accessible way to share a message or image with others, and to grow a community. If you are hoping to communicate an idea quickly and/or internationally, Social Media is perhaps the poor communicator’s only option.

This instant globalizing prowess has always been the charm and value of Social Media, but as it currently stands, when I myself am trying to cut down on a doomscrolling habit that I’m sure has negatively impacted my life, is it reasonable to ask others to keep scrolling for MY content? It’s the same reason I was a terrible salesperson back when I worked on commission at the makeup counter at Kohl’s: how could I possibly ethically persuade someone to buy a product, when I couldn’t afford it, myself? I may not have known a customer’s financial situation, but I know for sure they didn’t need a $50 eyeshadow palette… and it has always felt predatory to pretend otherwise.

I stopped posting as actively on Social Media back in November 2020, when that USA election cycle, combined with the COVID-19 pandemic, proved that every online disagreement was fruitless (at least at that time). I deleted Twitter the day it was sold. I wiped my TikTok profile earlier this year. And yet, despite my own choices, I am still scrolling, and still susceptible to twinges of envy when I see others freely, seemingly guiltlessly, sharing.

This blog, The Franifesto, is in part a manifestation of this frustration: I wanted a place of my own, where my opinions are less likely to be subject to censorship and algorithm, where I can post any amount of any kind of media, structure it any way I like, and control my narrative… but, of course, it completely lacks that magical element of community. It seems I must share more consistently on those flawed, established, popular, annoying platforms, but I worry about the hypocrisy of doing so. Posting there seems to puncture my points.

In the end, I know it’s not my job to make the choice for others whether and what they consume, and how much. Why not my work? Has my microscopic protest withheld anything from those in power? Or just from myself?

Paradoxically, the ability to incite change in this unsatisfactory system will almost certainly require participating within it.

Perhaps it’s enough to be aware of the conflict, acknowledge it, and make a post to talk about it. Perhaps it’s enough to ask other artists, and other doomscrollers, what they think. Perhaps it’s enough to simply use what tools we have, while they exist.

So: what are you doing, about/with/for/against/because of Social Media?

Lately, I’ve been:

Implementing a weekly no-scroll day (Wednesdays for me. If I accidentally start, I just stop as soon as I realize.)
Trying to limit my scrolling to ~2 hours or less a day. (Shamefully difficult.)
Trying to engage with Social Media intentionally (such as actively liking my friends’ content, amplifying speakers from historically underrepresented groups, sharing important information, advocating for causes).
Engaging in long-form attention habits (meditation, studying a new language, reading books, creative hobbies).
“Create more than consume.” Of course the creative cycle requires consuming new media, knowledge, connections, inspiration, but it’s easy to get out of balance if you never synthesize what you’re consuming into something new. (Digest it, if you will, or you’ll end up creatively… blocked.)

All this to say… take a scroll break. Unless you like my work. In that case, I guess, take a break after you’re done reading. 🖤

12.5/25: Halfway Through the 2025 Aims

It’s July 11th, and we’re just past the midway mark of 2025. I have updates about my progress toward the goals I wrote about back in January!

This year has been challenging so far, but also extremely rewarding. I have been overworked and underpaid, overtired and under-rested, but sometimes, that’s the slice of life we find on our plates. The first quarter of the year was largely tracked through long hours of production work in NYC, and the second quarter involved a move to our permanent apartment, finally recieving and unpacking our shipped storage, and adopting a new kitten–all in Berlin. My energy levels have ricocheted from that of an endless engine to a stagnant puddle. I’m just relieved to be entering the third quarter with a semblance of stability!

I’ve made great progress on my goals, but there have been setbacks, as well. It’s clear I have some items on which to reorient my focus. Without ado, let’s review:

Create something every day (take creative action: make something that was not there before, even if it is small, or part of a larger project).
Over the course of the year, I’ve come to understand that creativity is inherent in every day, in every choice you live, but my intentionality about it can still use improving. Some days are harder to “accomplish” because of life’s other demands; the challenge then is to figure out how to do the tasks at hand in a creative way, even if it comes down to changing up how you brush your teeth.
Do either a sun or moon salutation every day, with a few minutes of meditation.
Sun/moon salutations have so far been the hardest habit to build; this is something I really want to give energy to in the second half of the year. I do keep coming back to it, however, and I would consider that a win.
Update or work on my professional website (frannykromminga.com) once a month.
Monthly website editing hasn’t been consistent, but I have updated and published a few times. This could easily be fulfilled by going through and completing archival work for old projects I just haven’t gotten around to compiling information on.
Fully finish Venus Retrospectives!
Venus Retrospectives has had virtually NO work done. Recently, though, I have taken the time to break down the concept of the work left into smaller chunks, and made specific goalposts to hit for the rest of the year. The trouble is, a lot of what I’m doing is learning and experimentation, so it is very hard to predict what time commitment and resources will actually be necessary, moving forward. There’s nothing for it but to do it, I suppose!
Complete B1 level German training (via the Goethe Institut).
Unfortunately, I am NOT spending money on another Goethe Institut course. It’s just too expensive for my current situation. That said, I did complete my A2 level course in March, and I’ve been developing my comprehension independently with German audiobooks and daily interactions in Berlin. I need to reincorporate real memorization study–put those hundreds of blank flashcards I just got out of storage to good use–but I am slowly improving! Just… not in a way I know how to measure against the letter rating system. Anyone want to sponsor a $2,000 course?
Travel somewhere new!
I haven’t traveled somewhere new yet, but we have plans to visit Barcelona in October, and possibly somewhere else for one of our anniversary dates in August or November!
Read 25 books.
I’m on schedule at about 12 books; I slowed myself down reading Anna Karenina back in early spring, but I’ve really picked up speed this summer. Bless the Libby library app! Bless libraries of all kinds!
Visit 25 museums (different collections on separate visits to the same museum are allowed).
The museums goal needs serious dedication. I need to be doing that weekly, on average, at this point. This was a goal that really suffered during the early months of this year when I was extra busy with work, and it doesn’t help that I like to go to museums only when I can take my time. That said, it will be a pleasure to catch up.
See 25 live performances (in-person).
This goal is well on its way. If you include seeing shows I’ve worked on, instead of just shows I am attending that I have no professional connection to, it will be done in a month. Even so, this goal will practically complete itself this year. One of the merits of working in show business is that you often get to easily partake of show business.
Get 25 rejections from applications/auditions/submissions… then double it to 50 in the second half of the year!
My rejections goal requires more submissions. In fact, I think I may have rejected more offers myself than I have been rejected from, this year. The trouble with submissions is that I should only apply to things I actually want to do… this means more research. As I do more job applications in Berlin, though, this will increase automatically. I’ve actually started a tracking system specifically for applications, since I do need to get more work.
Make 25 posts on The Franifesto.
Sadly, this is only post number THREE on The Franifesto this year! This is another aim that will need near-weekly devotion in order to fulfill. As I write, I’m considering “Franifesto Fridays” as a basis for my sharing–I’m a sucker for alliteration, after all. 🙂

Looking ahead, I think there are three goals that will be the hardest for me to complete:

#2: I’ve technically already failed at the salutations, but in the end, this is more about achieving a daily habit than it is about rigid perfectionism. I know my wellbeing will benefit from them, but I have had a struggle with exhaustion that makes it easy to convince myself that lying in bed is preferable. Frankly, I’ve become aware of an energetic imbalance in my life: why is it that I find it all too easy to overextend myself for work, and find it hard to put that same effort into myself? The answer is probably capitalist conditioning, but whatever. I’ll be fixing that.

#8: Visiting 25 museums will also be a challenge, because it’s a goal that requires a lot of uninterrupted time (maybe it’s just me, but I can’t seem to visit any museum for less than 4 hours). Even though some goals may take more total time (Venus Retrospectives, I’m looking at you), those goals can be squeezed and squished into convenient bits and pieces, and accomplished at home. Luckily, Berlin is one of the best cities in the world for museum-goers, having over 150 to peruse. In some ways, this goal is asking me to invest in my own enjoyment, which is something I am not always particularly good at. I’ll definitely try to improve, though.

#10: Lastly, rejections are going to be really hard to collect! I’ve only racked up half a dozen so far, which puts me way behind my ultimate goal of 50 this year. It will be difficult because this goal is the only one that involves the participation of other people; being rejected means that other people, organizations, publications, companies, etc. have to respond to me, and that’s just not something I can control. in fact, this is an aim I’ve done before! I sought 100 rejections, back when most of my submissions were for acting jobs, around 2022. Most of those ended up being assumed rejections, because no one ever actually responded… instead, the dates of the shows I applied for simply passed me by. Still, I know I have a better chance of achieving this if I simply send out more applications, which I need to do anyway.

Reflecting on progress (and lack thereof) is reinvigorating. I may yet fail at every single one of these aims, but that isn’t the point, is it? There is immeasurable value in trying, assessing, learning, and experiencing. It’s in my nature to plan, strive, and analyze. Would you believe me if I said this was the most fun part of my entire year? (Gotta say though, getting a new kitten is right up there, too!)

Until next week,
-Franny

The Button Factory

They drill the holes at eight in the morning. Loudly, with jackhammers, crushing, pounding, boring. I worked until midnight last night, and now I wake to hear the concrete giving way under heavy machinery. My disoriented dreams are interrupted, and my husband is next to me, already resignedly awake, scrolling. The drilling changes tempo: at times it clangs with the rebound of alarm bells, at others it whirs with implied threat akin to the Dentist’s. I record some audio on my phone; I send it to the gals, “can you believe this?” Somehow, I fall back asleep.

Buttons aren’t made here anymore, not since, if the German wall plaque in our studio apartment is to be believed, the 1990s, after reunification. Cultural adjustments and economic shockwaves ripped through decades of benefic business. (Buttons are good work; even zippers can’t zap them. Velcro is, by comparison, vacuous. And snaps! Unserious.) Alas, the Fall of the Berlin Wall was a stronger connector.

Now, the only button left is a large metal statue: a four-foot, futile ferrous fastening, forever unfulfilled of its purpose. We can’t see it from our balcony, but some folks overlooking the next courtyard down can, and I’m sure it’s very quaint from above. It’s neighbored by a spry little fountain, a bike rack, and some lightly overgrown plants. They must have finished remodeling that courtyard last year.

Ours, by comparison, is a concrete pit, haphazardly layered over with uneven boardwalk. The planked pitfalls change every day, when the construction workers rearrange the path after having freshly rearranged the terrain. “Lift your feet,” I mutter to myself, as the motion-activated light flicks on, about five yards too late into the dark trudge. Stepping with intention, I make it to my door, grocery bags and ankles intact.

I get a hint of commiseration via text throughout the day. I respond, keeping up conversation, connection. Not much is said. Nobody changes the topic. Hours have passed, and I’m safe at home, staring down a blessedly sacred weekend (jackhammers, famously, always have weekends off). And then–

–“[…] it’s not that bad […]” … followed by other gems of helpfully dismissive wisdom.

Of course it’s not that bad. I’m safe, and warm, and fed. I have work that is personally meaningful. I am loved, and I get to see my loved ones regularly. I am healthy. I get to enjoy some of the finest components of our Age. I’m not making buttons, in Berlin or otherwise.

And yet.

Lately, I have been pungently aware that even my casual, conversational complaints are confounded. The positive public veneer is too thick. Instagrammed sunsets and an eye for an angle make the whole world go blind, I suppose. I feel unrelatable, even with those I’ve thought myself dear to for a decade or more.

No, it doesn’t really matter that loud construction woke me up at 8AM. And I’m sorry if I have overused your compassionate ears and eyes lately, sharing some of the inner difficulty that few get to witness. But I am not easily vulnerable, and this year has had massive challenges to match the changes. Overall, yes, I know this is a crumb of an event… but a concrete crumb, and it wormed into my shoe somehow, and yes, I need to pause to shake it out.

Pause with me, or go on ahead–but if you go on, I won’t try to catch up.
I will go at my own pace, regardless.

Reckless & Unhinged

It’s come to my attention that some of my energy may have been being misused. Or, if not misused, then frustrated. Frustrated by my own self-imposed rules and regulations.

I am a fairly methodical person who enjoys science and statistics, particularly when it comes to organizing my own life. I like to track what I’ve done, when, and how often; I regularly accessorize my journal with little grids peppered with check marks, to track things like my skincare, exercise, Italian language practice, caffeine intake, and more. This year, I set myself the challenge to submit applications/auditions/etc. to 100 opportunities, so naturally I started a tracking system to calculate what works out and what does not.

However, the last three weeks or so, I have been caught up in an unplanned gig which interrupted my meticulous tracking, and forced me to consider the question: is it better to go back and fix my lapse in recording, or to forge onward with submissions without looking back? Is the proof of the effort more important than dedication to the cause?

Simultaneously, I had recently said ”yes” to an opportunity I had a negative feeling about, and of course ended up somewhat regretting it. As someone who is so often a confident consult on friends’ life decisions, I’ve noticed a certain uncertainty about navigating my own, specifically about following my gut/heart/instinct in any given moment (as opposed to bending to outsider opinions or some misguided sense of ”strategy”). I freeze and question my inspirations, constantly needing to ascertain whether or not my idea is “worth” following before making a move… when I could instead simply use that energy to go ahead and find out in reality. Does every move have to be the “best” in order to be worth making?

There comes a time when calculation is just procrastination. Though it goes against my nature and habits, I think I will find my answers by choosing to recklessly pursue my own goals. Moving forward, this looks like not second-guessing when I feel like writing instead of practicing. This looks like saying “no” to opportunities even when, on the surface, there doesn’t seem to be a ”good enough” reason. This looks like releasing prior plans when they no longer suit me. This looks like posting more silly content on social media and here on this blog, regardless of who may or may not see it.

Part of it, too, will look unhinged. A career in the arts already reflects some inconsistency; reckless pursuit adds a new level of observable chaos. This new approach challenges me to take actions without caring what others think of them. In fact, it challenges me to take actions without prematurely judging them myself.

For the foreseeable future, my aim is to release routine, excise expectation, and plunge headlong into every actionable whim. I hope to remove self-set restraints, and retrain my self-trust. I intend to convert every bit of frustrated energy into forward momentum.

I’m so curious to see what will happen next.

”Commit to the bit,” right?

Hmm, says she: a Sonnet

Hmm, says she, I’ve been doing some thinking
About the water we have been drinking.
More common than dirt, more precious than gold,
Each and every drop a million years old.
How is it then that we are running out,
Getting scarce in every spigot and spout?
The rain still comes and the rivers still run,
But still it’s not enough… for everyone.
Some people still bathe, and steam, and shower–
Of course, they’re the ones with all the power.
Others go parched, chronic dehydration;
Ah, such “equality” in our nation.
I can’t help but feel we’ve gone all awry,
All because of an oily, greedy lie.