So I'm at the bottle shop the other night getting some BYO for Franca's going away curry. Ciao Franka. Bon Voyage.
Anyway, I'm at the register paying for my booze when the d'ude behind the counter says 'Would you like a bag for that?'. 'Not if you're going to charge me a surcharge for the plastic bag,' I answer. 'Nah, we don't use plastic.' and he proceeds to load my drinks into an oversize paper bag.
Hang on. Didn't we say goodbye to paper bags in the 80s? So now it's unacceptable to use cheap, light, recyclable plastic bags (which I maintain will provide the oil supply for future generations) and instead continue to cut down old growth forests for woodchips for paperbags?
WHO TO BELIEVE? I just don't get it anymore.
Still wet and miserable in old Melbourne Town today, but at least I'm out of the house. I'm on a two week semester break at the moment so life has just slowed down to a crawl. Hibernation is the plan.
I'm currently re-reading Tim Winton's Cloudstreet, which is required reading for my Novel class. I feel like I've had an unfair advantage having read this only last Christmas. Let me tell you it is far easier going second time around. The imagery is no less spectacular, and I am really enjoying it again. If you haven't already, and you enjoy a gripping Australian yarn, do yourselves some favours and give it a read.
I'm not going to write anymore, because I think the computers here at school have just packed up completely. Oh well, you'll just have to wait for my next instalment.
Love youse all,