a curious uni kid takes on 'merica: Sunday Funday

I was admittedly a bit of a Bogan on Sunday morning, and I can't say I'm proud. Viv and I let our apartment block around 10.30am to go get some juice, and we left in our pajamas, and me with no shoes...because we were just going to the corner store, right? But we attracted so many stares prancing down Huntington Ave in our sleeping attire and the store manager actually told me I wouldn't be allowed in the store if I wasn't wearing shoes, and THEN we entered the gym and there was a NEU college tour in place. All these concerned parents were not impressed at our attire, hungover faces and lack of caring. The campus tour guides looked most embarrassed by our presence. Man almighty. Have you seen what people wear to supermarkets in Australia? Have you seen what I wear to supermarkets in Australia?
Another thing I'm sick of, since we're talking about shitty things in America; is the monetary notes. I always look in my wallet, see it stuffed full of notes and think I'm rich. But low and behold - it's all one dollar bills and it turns out I actually have a measly $7.50. It's infuriating. And I am sick of my household kitchen situation. I have a total of one mug, one plastic plate, one fry pan and one set of cutlery. And a pocket knife. Do you know what it's like having to live like that? If I have pasta - I eat it out of my mug. Then I have to keep the leftovers in the pot. Then if I want a cup of tea, I have to transfer the leftovers from the pot to my singular plate. But the plate's not big enough. So I end up with half my leftover pasta on the plate, and half in an old soda cup that I've pulled out of the trash and washed (TRUE STORY). So then I can wash the fry pan, FRY myself some water - not boil, cause I have neither a kettle or a pot, you see. Then I wash my mug and make a cup of tea. Drink the tea. Wash the cup, transfer the leftovers from the plate and soda cup BACK into the fry pan and put it in the fridge. Then I wash everything, throw out the soda cup and then next morning REPEAT, and probably fish through the trash to get the soda cup out again. And repeat. And repeat. And repeat.

I hear you asking; 'Why dear Caty, do you not go out and buy more kitchen supplies?'

Because every time I do go out to buy more things, I get to the counter to realise I've only got seven-blooming-fifty in my wallet, don't I.

Sunday Funday, down to Quincy market. At last, some aspects of 'Merica that we can enjoy.