Guilt from feminism

Although it is winter in Melbourne, I have been eating quite a lot of ice-cream these days. I have tasted almost all the favours in the two famous ice-cream shops on Lygon and the refined Italian ice-cream in the place I work. Guilt arises, despite I am currently reading Naomi Wolf’s Beauty Myth. Feminism is still not my type; I am a social animal under the influence of people around.

I have spent an hour scurried around city to find a shoe brush for my dance shoes. I started from a super market, then was referred to a shoe repair shop, and then a hardware store, followed this direction, I was end up in another shoe repair shop. My shoe brush searching journey was like the Amazing Race, picked clues from one place to another. That !s Melbourne.