Not Meeting Mr Right by Anita Heiss

Author:Anita Heiss [Anita Heiss]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9781864713633
Publisher: Random House Australia
Published: 2011-12-11T15:50:48+00:00

seventeen

Peta's brainwave: Perfect Paul

Saturday morning arrived soon enough and I was greeted with the news that another rich, skinny famous woman was getting married for the third greedy time. I was so uninterested I didn't even read the name. Who really cared? Wasn't there any real news that could go on the front page of the paper?

I turned the page of the trashy Daily Terror in disgust, only to learn that Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie were arguing again. Who cares! looked to become the mantra for the day.

I wasn't at all surprised to find an article about a march and hunger strike protesting the government's treatment of refugees rated only two paragraphs on page eight. I was immediately ashamed of myself for even buying a paper and giving money to the fascist media empire that produced it. It was hard to believe that for some this paper was their only form of social education. Real news and issues of importance never even ranked in these tabloids. God knows Blackfellas only made the pages if they were throwing rocks at cops or fulfilling negative stereotypes that soothed the consciences of ignorant racist whites. I declared out loud that I would never buy another paper.

As I took the paper and other recyclables downstairs, I began to psyche myself for Bianca's hens' night, due to start in ten hours. It would take me that long to convince myself that I should participate in such an appalling event, the second-last step in the process of becoming Mrs Wife.

I dropped the paper and empty bottles in the appropriate sides of the bin.

'Morning, Gabrielle!' I hadn't seen her for a while, not since the last time I'd put the garbage out, actually.

'Hi Alice, what've you got planned for tonight? A hot date?' Gabrielle had hope in her eyes.

'No, a bloody hens' night. I can't think of anything worse, except for a kitchen tea. I don't even think I like the guy my friend's marrying.'

'Now Alice, didn't your mum ever tell you that if you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all?' Gabrielle smiled at me like a wise mother as she walked off. I felt like a bitch. She was right. In an attempt to seek the Buddha within everyone and the positive in every situation, I would adopt a new mantra: I will only say things that assist, contribute to, or are pleasant about any individual, place or event. Before I reached my door, though, I was laying bets with myself on how long this mantra would last.

The phone was ringing as I entered the flat, but I didn't answer it in case it was Simple Simon. I let the machine get it and heard Peta's voice: 'Alice, it's me. I know you're there. You want to go to the Ladies' Baths?'

I picked up. 'Great idea.'

It was terrific having Peta living so close, both of us only walking distance from the secluded, womenonly rock pool. It was always more peaceful there than the main beach, even if at times it was hard to find somewhere to sit.

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