Tuesday, April 12, 2011

Are you my Boba?

 It was stunning outside today. Love love love the sunshine.

The bad part of loving foreign foods and drinks is the possibility that you don't always know exactly what's in those foods or drinks. I dislike being ignorant normally but it really frustrates me when it comes to what I'm consuming, I know there are a lot of things that I consider bad for my body that the rest of the world doesn't usually acknowledge as unhealthy. I enjoy having an extended awareness but it comes with extended fear of the unknown.

Of course I'm referring to something specific at the moment. Craig and I very recently developed a love, and now a craving, for "bubble tea." It's hard to figure out or describe exactly what "bubble tea" usually consists of. But we've done our research and we've started to get a pretty good grip on what it means and what the ingredients are and what types we can have...or so we thought. What we want is supposed to be a smoothy type thing or something milk based, like a steamer, but cold. And that's what we thought we were buying today. But this. This tasted like black tea. Which I've never had. But I can't think of any other reason why it would taste so much like dead, rotten leaves. Something was definitely wrong. The boba bubbles were good, but the "tea" left us feeling sick. Oh, and my straw wasn't pointy enough to break the plastic lid. I blame that on black tea too.

Well, there was a possibility of good bubble tea close to our apartment, and it looked like a bright and beautiful friendship, but we won't be doing that again. Now we're looking at a bubble tea supplier where we can buy 6 pounds of our own boba bubbles for seven dollars, along with some fat straws, and put them in whatever drinks we want. The future looks bright again.

[It looks like Spring!] 

[Craig singing to Taking Back Sunday] 

[I look happier than I feel about that bubble tea] 

[The devil plastic lid my not pointy straw couldn't break] 

[Cute boy]


  1. Thank you! It was fun, I LOVE my mondays, they're the end of my weekend.


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