Dear me, but the last few days have been a bit grim, haven't they? I should just change the title of my blog to 'Tash Tells a Sad Story' and have done with it. So, just for a change, I'm going to tell you about some things that won't make me cry as I write about them.
Yesterday I had lunch with some people from my office, which was nice, except that someone decided we were going to go to the seventh level of food court hell and eat bain marie Chinese food. Jesus Mary and Joseph, but it was awful. For one, there was the whole bain marie aspect - call me crazy, but I have a tiny problem with eating food that has been stewing in a warm bath of salmonella and grease since the dawn of time. My philosophy of eating is that I should never have to pay money for a prepared meal that I would be embarrassed to serve to someone if they came round to my house for dinner. If I'm paying money for you to give me food, it should be because it's something I can't make myself - I'm not saying everything has to be Michelin standard. I'll happily eat a McDonald's apple pie, because, as much as it only barely classifiable as food, I couldn't make it myself because I lack a deep fryer and access to industrial chemicals. But this Chinese was just crappy. They had about 16 dishes, only one of which was vegetarian. How did I know it was vegetarian? Why, because it had a sign floating in it that said 'Vegetarian Food'. It was spectacularly awful. But while we were having lunch my friend told me some VERY BIG NEWS that I am not allowed to tell anyone, so I won't. Rest assured that it was VERY BIG indeed, and I am honoured that I am among the handful of people who are privy to it.
After lunch we went and got EasyWay drinks, which are billed as 'Australia's healthiest bubble tea'. I will take their word on that. Mine was a taro milk tea, which is a worryingly vivid purple colour, and in spite of the fact that it clearly says on the side of the cup 'beware of choking', I choked on my bubbles. I know what taro is, but I wasn't expecting the flavour, and I can't quite describe it. 'What is that taste?', I asked D. 'I don't know, but I like to think that it tastes like carebears', he replied. Which, somehow, is actually not far wrong.
Then we had a good long bitch session about people from our office, or the others did at any rate. I don't really know anyone else well enough to have anything in particular against any of them, though I did venture the opinion that the Talky Designer Man is a bit of a wanker, and this was solemnly agreed to by all parties, so I feel as if I held up my end of the social contract.
There, that's a much nicer post, now, isn't it? It's hard to be sad when you're badmouthing your colleagues and pretending to drink a carebear.
Yesterday I had lunch with some people from my office, which was nice, except that someone decided we were going to go to the seventh level of food court hell and eat bain marie Chinese food. Jesus Mary and Joseph, but it was awful. For one, there was the whole bain marie aspect - call me crazy, but I have a tiny problem with eating food that has been stewing in a warm bath of salmonella and grease since the dawn of time. My philosophy of eating is that I should never have to pay money for a prepared meal that I would be embarrassed to serve to someone if they came round to my house for dinner. If I'm paying money for you to give me food, it should be because it's something I can't make myself - I'm not saying everything has to be Michelin standard. I'll happily eat a McDonald's apple pie, because, as much as it only barely classifiable as food, I couldn't make it myself because I lack a deep fryer and access to industrial chemicals. But this Chinese was just crappy. They had about 16 dishes, only one of which was vegetarian. How did I know it was vegetarian? Why, because it had a sign floating in it that said 'Vegetarian Food'. It was spectacularly awful. But while we were having lunch my friend told me some VERY BIG NEWS that I am not allowed to tell anyone, so I won't. Rest assured that it was VERY BIG indeed, and I am honoured that I am among the handful of people who are privy to it.
After lunch we went and got EasyWay drinks, which are billed as 'Australia's healthiest bubble tea'. I will take their word on that. Mine was a taro milk tea, which is a worryingly vivid purple colour, and in spite of the fact that it clearly says on the side of the cup 'beware of choking', I choked on my bubbles. I know what taro is, but I wasn't expecting the flavour, and I can't quite describe it. 'What is that taste?', I asked D. 'I don't know, but I like to think that it tastes like carebears', he replied. Which, somehow, is actually not far wrong.
Then we had a good long bitch session about people from our office, or the others did at any rate. I don't really know anyone else well enough to have anything in particular against any of them, though I did venture the opinion that the Talky Designer Man is a bit of a wanker, and this was solemnly agreed to by all parties, so I feel as if I held up my end of the social contract.
There, that's a much nicer post, now, isn't it? It's hard to be sad when you're badmouthing your colleagues and pretending to drink a carebear.
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