Sophia and socialism
I’ve spent the better part of today modelling myself on Sophia Loren, circa early 1960’s, achieved through my gorgeous discount Target dress, and makeup, including red lipstick which has been reapplied twice! Those of you who know me well may suffer some sort of heart palpitations at the news, but it’s true. In part, it’s because my phone has been cut off due to some kind of misunderstanding with my phone company. It’s a long story, stemming from their online billing department needing to get it’s act together, and make a mental note not to cut the customer off once their bill’s been paid. There’s no one there over the weekend to rectify the problem, so it’s only my trusty mobile keeping me in touch with the rest of the world. And this page of course. But when your phone’s cut off, you need to look fabulous - it’s just common sense.
Even more strangely, I’ve enjoyed it. So after the market (where I got a lot more attention than usual from stallholders of the male persuasion), Miss M and I jumped on a tram to take advantage of Target’s dress sale. A lack of knowledge of current events took us into the heart of the G20 protest, which was fairly confronting for someone of my age, so I can only imagine what Miss M made of it. I spent some time trying to explain the concept of globalisation, world finance and socialism to her, but I think what she was most focussed on was the police in riot gear, protesters yelling, and a surfeit of batons. She was worried it meant there would one day be a war in Melbourne, and as I assured her there wouldn’t, I was thinking “please let me be right”.
Of course, you must follow intense political education with shopping. Then because we were both starving, we headed to our favorite place to eat in the whole city and consumed various dumplings until we were full. And now we’re home and exhausted, but I’ve promised a trip to the pool so a new pair of bathers can be broken in. I’m hoping there may be a nap in the meantime - and Miss M might sleep as well (boom boom - to quote Basil Brush).
Please observe photographic evidence of my glamorousness below, which like the Loch Ness Monster is not often seen. I appear to be disturbingly without humour, but I blame the camera, which on this occasion lied.