Breakfast with Bae

This week my fav of favs Alex was in Melbourne for a few days (#jetsetlyf) and due to our hekkerz schedules (#indemand) we decided, obviously the night before when we were feeling very much awake, that it would be a grand idea to have a breakfast date. At 7.30.

The one in the morning.

Now I've managed to get my shit together in recent times, especially re: sleeping patterns which is quite an impressive feat, but this week has been all over the place and in true vintage Madz0rs style, in order to be awake and ready to mingle, I just didn't sleep the night before. A+ Maddi. A+ for your logic and brilliant decision making skills. However, poor life choices aside, this did mean that I was indeed dressed and in the rainy, rainy city on time. Holler.

It made me really sad that there were other people up that early as well though because I know they can't all have breakfast dates and the idea of my life one day consistently requiring me to rise'n'shine before the frickin sun makes me want to cry all over everybody. Innywho.

We decided to go to Manchester Press since 'tis quite close to where Alex was staying and more importantly the ambiance is suitably indie and in keeping with the desired instagram aesthetic, so off we trotted in the rain down a shadowy little alley towards our destiny. Classic Melbz.

Got some bagels, took some instys, had some laffz, everything's going well, until...disaster.

I dipped the honey wand in my chai latte.*

They had entrusted us with the aforementioned honey wand as a means of transporting the honey to our beverages and, as anyone who is familiar with a honey wand will know, it is intended to be used to drizzle said honey over the top but no. Just put it right in there. Right in the latte. I know that's not what you do. This is a thing of which I am aware. This was not my first encounter with a honey wand. But even though my sleep deprived brain was saying 'nah maddi that's not what we do' it couldn't get the signal out fast enough and a dunking was had. Foam all over the handle. Lactose in the ridges. A spectacle to behold.

Truly a mishap of Sophoclean proportions.

Through sheer willpower and strength of character we were eventually able to recover from this trauma, and went on to have a rather enjoyable chit chat about life - the ins and outs of bitches being cray - before parting ways to carry on with the rest of our fast-paced days,** but the Honey Wand Tragedy of 2014 will live with us always.

The extent to which that last sentence rhymes bothers me so much.

And on that uplifting note, I bid you adieu.