Yesterday I had some time to kill before my train so I went to Flinders Street Books, the second hand shop opposite the Station. I love that place! It’s such a treasure trove of second hand books, its so awesome. I picked up five writing books, including all the ones on the left (which are lying on, if your interested, my new HANNAH MONTANA DOONA COVER!!! its so awesome 
). I love second hand books. They look, smell and feel lovely and awesome. Someone commented to me a few months ago that how can i love second hand books in the condition they come in? If you don’t personally know me, i am VERY anal [and thats an understatement!!!] about the condition my books are in. I once sent back this one book 4 times to the suppliers because it kept coming damanged, finally the manager told me to shut up and accept it. I was like “no! *pouts*” haha. But I’ll tell you why: its part of their charm. Second hand books are supposed to be worn: LOVED. Read and loved by someone, and in a second hand bookstore so someone else can fall in love with it.
And also yesterday, on my way to the city i stopped via the mailbox to find a parcle in there with my name on it. Usually I know when I’m expecting a package, whether it be from the Book Dep or eBay etc, but yesterday I wasn’t. I frowned when I saw the Castlemaine postmark, automatically thinking of my parents who have a holiday house near Castlemaine, but thinking, why would they post me a package from there? they wouldn’t. Not to mention the acutal down they live in has its own post office. My second thought was fleeting and I didn’t really think it would be right. Apart from that fact that I thought this person (ie the only other person I know in Castlemaine) would never send me anything (and the pressing issue – how did they know my address?! wonders will never cease!). Although the handwriting did look very familiar……
