darjeeling puttabong

So I bought this tea awhile ago ('darjeeling puttabong', as you might have guessed from the title); it was more expensive than the looseleaf Irish Breakfast tea that I got at the same time, and yet I like it much, much less. I like my tea almost like I like my Guinness--really dark, but with cream on top to cut the bitterness. Darjeeling puttabong is more of a light, almost floral tea, even after I let it steep for ten minutes. Meh. Oh, well, it gave me an excuse to use my awesome teapot, so I can't complain too much.

After that effortless display of tea snobbery (which, ironically, showed that my tastes are still plebian rather than refined), it's time to report that I have nothing to report--I did nothing today but work, sleep, and go underwear shopping in anticipation of wearing a dress on Saturday that I have never tried on or seen. I decided I should arm myself with a strapless bra just in case, and this of course resulted in a thorough replenishment of my lingerie stocks. Not that anyone will ever see what I bought, unless I'm in a tragic car accident that results in massive head trauma but relatively little damage below the neck, or unless I start outsourcing my laundry duties. On that slightly depressing note (compounded by the fact that I turn 25 in less than three weeks!), I'm off to bed.