So, sure, it had traces of drama in it. But the best? Really? And let's all get a grip... it did not bring me to the brink of suicidal contemplation. Is this why it got Best Drama? Because of the amount of idiots who've supposedly been so severely affected? I think Avatar deserved Best Drama about as much as Obama deserved the Nobel Peace Prize. But aaaaanywho, putting that rant down and moving onto something closer to home...
"Everything in moderation. "That's what my mother used to say (probably still does), over and over again... mostly applied to food. It's a little adage that probably would do wonders in the fight against obesity. And quite good to keep in mind, as these days it seems you can't pick up a fork without someone pointing out that WHATEVER you are about to consume will increase/decrease your chance of weight gain/weight loss/heart disease/longevity/brain tumours/brain activity/brain cancer etc etc...
So this one's for you, Mum.
Mills and I went out for sushi last night. It's 'our' thing. We love sushi, as much as our budgets can afford, and there's a great restaurant around the corner that does all-you-can-eat deals. You can order basically as much as you like and you can do this for up to 8 rounds per table. Eight rounds filled largely with rice and very very salty soy sauce (we're pretty sure they proactively add salt to make sure you're filling yourself up on liquid in between rounds). However, if you do not finish everything that you have ordered, you will be charged for the remaining pieces. Fair enough... waste not, want not.
I figure two, even three, rounds is a good effort but Mills sees the "8" as a target. So even if we are both full - absolutely stuffed - he must order more. Must. Eat. More.
It always gets to the point where I won't help him. That's it. I am full. End of. Mills was ordering round 3 when this happened last night. "We can't let them win!" he cried. 'Them' being those dastardly restaurant owners... if Mills was a gambler he'd be trying to beat the system in Vegas right now. I emphasised that I would not eat any more. He lambasted me for being a quitter. I called him an assortment of names. I raised my eyebrows then and shut up, because a) he's a big boy and must suffer the consequences and b) I like a good 'told you so' situation as much as the next girlfriend.
As we waited for HIS order, the rice began to expand in his stomach and his brain latched onto the fact that a fair amount had been ingested. "Oh dear... I am feeling a bit full now..." he conceded, shortly before they placed another 25 pieces of sushi on our table. Yup, I bet you are. You warthog.
After my celebratory "I told you so" song and dance, I suggested that maybe he should just pay up. But no, paying up would mean that 'they' win. And we could never let that happen.
So the real entertainment began. I watched my boyfriend slowly binge himself on chopstick-laden mouthfuls. It wasn't about the food, or paying. Oh no, it was a game of strategy. In between labouriously chewing, he would muse about ways to hide the sushi. "Hmmm, what if I break this piece up and hide it under the lettuce? How much do you think the people at the table next door would pay for these pieces? Maybe I can stuff the last pieces into my cheeks... do you think they'll notice? You'll have to ask for and pay the bill then... I can spit it out once we're outside."
This is just one reason why we don't, and can't ever, have children. After seven years of dating, we still end up playing "hide the veggies from mom" (alternatively known as "hide the raw fish and rice bundles from the beady eyes of the Japanese matron").
ps. He ate it all... I think I helped with all of two pieces. He ate the rest. Unbelievable.