this lack of fabric shops is killing me. Yes, I has no self expression.
This is becoming an issue as I’m dropping some girth (owing in part to the lack of bike riding and excess of walking): most of my trousers are now held up with safety pins. Perhaps I shouldn’t have been so diligent in lightening my load before we moved. Thank goodness I didn’t get rid of those golden/beigh beighe fuck, how do you spell that? Anyhow, those cordurouy … fuck. Spelling, he no here. Anyway: good thing I kept those pants, right?!
Thankfully, it is now warmer here. The summer is so short. People are still wearing scarves (though I’ve only found it cold enough to warrant it twice in the two months we’ve been here, and that was at night), coats, etc. I mock them in my tshirt (and ill-fitting trousers).
Soon I will be wearing shorts and sundresses. Then I will have to be naked most days, once summer comes. Hopefully I will have acclimatised by then. My students (yes, I’m tutoring atm – at a BIG RICH G8 UNIVERSITY – another country after the small, povvy one in Melbourne) would be far to frightened by my over 20, comfortably insulated self. And we must protect the kiddies, mustn’t we?
Heh.
