Spy Cam 1.0 - Good Mornin' Little School Girl

I rarely talk on my phone.  I type on it a lot, and since discovering it had musical capabilities, I often pretend it is an iPod.  In fact, I even call it an iPod (I can hear people in England wincing.)  I frequently use my phone to convert temperatures and distances into recognizable digits.  Sometimes, I use it as a paper weight.

I recently discovered that my phone is also a camera - albeit, not a very good one.  But a camera phone does have the distinct advantage of being somewhat incognito, such that it is possible to snap pictures of complete strangers on the train whilst only appearing to be a modestly incompetent text-o-phobe.  With this in mind, I launch a new series of entries featuring random commuters, pedestrians, and other crazy street-people who, for whatever reason, catch my attention.  Besides, I have lost my expatriate edge to some degree and am running out of witty cultural observations - as evidenced by the increasing number of deleted posts featuring amusing anecdotes of my cat.  (I can hear people in England cheering.)

Despite the protests laid in the previous paragraph, I am still daily enamored by the school children of Australia.  Evidently, they travel vast distances each day to attend the best schools.  Each school has a distinct uniform - presumably so that if a group of them are misbehaving, you can dob them in to the appropriate headmaster.  All uniforms include a hat.  I am a big fan of hats and have amassed quite a collection of lost headgear from various institutions.  However, I cannot help but ponder the disastrous rebellion that would have ensued had uniforms been standard policy when I was a child in America. 

Can anyone who knew me as a child imagine me in that drab cotton dress??

I am pretty sure they were sending text messages to each other.