July 04, 2007

For The Plebs

And then I thought to myself, it is unfair of me not to share the amazing aesthetic pleasures of my bento box with everybody else. It's downright selfish. What these people need, I said to myself, is a little excitement in their miserable lives; those miserable lives filled with drudgery and the foggy thinking that accompanies a mid-range IQ and a third-rate career.

Ladies, I present to you, from the luxuriant setting of my kitchen table next to her matching carrier bag and a strategically placed vase of flowers: Bento-Praxis the first.

I'n't she pretty? It's rare that I go so girly but well you all know. I have a bit of an obsessive problem with this lunchbox. It has become more important to me than my marriage.

These beautiful little bitties are saucepots. That's right - saucepots. That sounds a bit rude too, but it's really not. They're just miniature pots for what one ought to be putting their sauces in. No hanky-panky there, no sir. These are some straight-edge punk saucepots.

This is the box all spread out. (This is beginning to sound like a thirteen year old boy describing down the phone a feature he found in a skin-mag to his best mate.) See all the compartments? Each one of them is filled with joy. Or love, whichever you're craving the most.

And last but not least: a tribute to the vegan lunchbox, although utterly sacriligious as my lunch contains pig. Sorry, vegans.

In this lunch you will see the much revered ham sandwich on wholemeal bread with the crusts cut off. INDEED. To the right of this the wily eye will spot a tiny pot filled with home-made salad dressing (wholegrain mustard, olive oil, honey and balsamic vinegar). In the second layer there is a crispy cos salad with tommatters and peppers. Lounging around the box in the typically nonchalant fashion of uneaten fruit you'll find a plum and a pear, and of course a pot of chocolate Alpro Soya; a treat too delicious for you to imagine, so don't buy any.

Now. That's my good deed done for the day.

I am feeling particularly cheerful this evening, as a I enjoyed a rather encouraing meeting with the supervisor of my research master's degree. He was so enthusiastic about my ideas that he kept shaking my hand and saying, "Welcome aboard!" and "Bless you!" It was great! I got access to the library and had my first real day of academic work in years. Boy, am I ready for this. Getting a bento box and entry to a dream master's all in one week is beginning to frighten me though. Is my husband about to die? I mean, how can things be this good? I am of course joking. My husband will never die; the details are fuzzy now but I think it was part of the marital agreement. Most of that wedding stuff is a blur: everyone was weeping and gnashing their teeth. You know what these events are like! It's all black dresses and tea and sandwiches back at the house. Pure depressing.

neuro-praxis -- neuro gives; praxis takes away

Posted by neuro-praxis on July 4, 2007 10:42 PM, in the category Mouldy Curtains