title: How Coffee Saved My Life: And Other Stories of Stumbling to Grace
author:  Ellie Roscher 
description: At age 25, author Roscher, a self-described rich, white North American overachiever, decided to spend a year in Lascano, Uruguay. What Roscher discovered during that year was that the American culture, especially its Christian subculture, has many layers of insulation. She was abruptly thrust into the physical antithesis of the comfortable, cushy existence she was used to and immediately realized how her personal desire for control would be tested on every level. Experiencing chronic constipation (thus the newfound need for daily coffee), bouts of lice, language barriers and feelings of loneliness, depression and isolation, Roscher in her diary reveals how she struggled for survival physically and emotionally. Her spirit, too, was tried and tested and, eventually, flourished beautifully. The author's yearlong mission is riveting and wildly adventurous in both the content and style of this poignant memoir. Readers will be rightly amazed and pleased at how much aged wisdom emanates from such a young soul. <I>(Aug.)</I> <BR>Copyright &copy; Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.
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  Two Faced
  
  
  by Rose Pressey
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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  #  Chapter 1
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  My life was a charade. If my so-called friends knew the truth, they would die.
  The bitches would choke on their venti iced lattes. Speaking of coffee, I was
  currently waiting in line for my order at Starbucks. The one on Beverly Drive.
  Where else? Brittney refused to set foot in any other location.
  
  
  “Could you take away some of the ice?” I waved the cup in front of the
  barista’s face.
  
  
  Her smirk said it all. She wanted to shove the cup down my throat. Especially
  when I told her my name was Alexsis with an extra S. I tapped the side of the
  cup for emphasis to make sure she understood. What was I doing? More and more
  I had started to act like them.
  
  
  With a forced smile, the young brunette thrust the cup back at me. The same
  amount of ice remained in the cup. I checked the side. My name was still
  spelled with one S. She’d done nothing to change my drink.
  
  
  Slowly over the last couple years I’