As a freshman student, there are two items that are essential if you wish to assimilate into the culture of the University of Sydney:
- An iPhone- Note: An iPod Touch may be sufficient, as two of my coursemates from the Central Coast have one of these each, and have whipped them out at every opportunity they can get. No one seems to spot the difference.
- A pair of Converse shoes
Now I realise that there are different requirements for certain sub-groups; things such as boat shoes (for Law students), a scarf (Arts), a year-round wearing of footy shorts (college trustifarians), or perhaps a grandiose opinion of oneself which causes others to mock you mercilessly behind your back, yet still go out and get hammered with you after the lecture (again, Law students). But to be welcomed into the main class of students, you really do need at least one of the two aforementioned belongings. As I have neither the money required (nor the unsubstantiated belief that Steve Jobs is God) for an iPhone, it looked like I was going to have to get myself a pair of Chuck T’s.
I got off to a bad start, paying $90 for the low-cut black version, and finding out the next day that Paul’s Warehouse had these at half the price. In addition, my penchant for buying shoes a size too small always leads to a “wearing-in” week, one of the the only experiences I can empathise with females about. However the compliments were soon flowing, and I found myself making new friends hourly, trading tips on how best to accentuate the white toe of the shoe or perhaps deemphasise an overly long lace. Women were throwing themselves at my feet (literally), offering me drinks (or more!), and soon enough I was living the hedonistic lifestyle I had always deserved. But all good things must come to an end, as a wise man once said….
(Note: Why is it always assumed that it was said by a wise man, and not woman? Surely there have been a few profound statements by the fairer sex in the history of mankind? Women’s lib, thank me later.)
Fast forward to this week. My beloved shoes have started to fall apart. The soles have worn right through; the toes are not nearly so white anymore. It’s been six months, and they’re already worn out. $90 down the drain, essentially. Yet there is always a bright side to every situation, for it is now approaching summer, and that can only mean one thing- Havianas!
Today my mother and sister left for America, where they will attempt to play basketball against some of the local schools, and live out my lifelong dream BY MEETING THE LOS ANGELES LAKERS! But I don’t want to talk about that. That’s boring. No, what I want to know is why on earth do airlines make people empty out their liquids/gels into plastic bags?
Well obviously the airlines believe that by doing so, they are being proactive in the fight against terrorism. It prevents people from carrying on potentially explosive liquids with them, they’d say. But when you think about it, is this really going to stop terrorists? Are they going to plan for months and months in advance on an elaborate scheme involving hiding liquid explosive in their handbags, only to be thwarted by the requirement that everything be in a plastic bag? And are they then stupid enough to label said explosive “EXPLOSIVE- Use when flying” and not simply put it into a skin care tube? I mean, how are the border security guys goin to test whether something is toothpaste or perhaps ammonium nitrate? Lick it? This is a situation that seems impossible to control without placing a complete embargo on carrying anything onto planes- i.e., all passengers fly in the nude. And that’s not going to happen. We just have to trust that people aren’t suicidal maniacs, I guess, and if we find out they are, then do everything in our power to stop them.
Yeah. That’s all.
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