When I was a young teenager, every school holiday my father and I used to travel an hour into Sydney to visit the library. We lived out near the suburbs of Blacktown and while it would have been easier to go to the local library, my father and I were convinced that Sydney’s books were magical, brand spanking new and packed with ten times more knowledge than the battered versions we had at the local. Maybe it was the journey that made the books that much worthwhile, or maybe I’m showing too much of my nerd streak right now.

The Sydney library had the most extensive Anne Rice collection I’ve ever seen. The goth that I was drooled at the collection. These books took commitment to carry around, they were bigger than the bible and weighed twice as much, yet I found myself borrowing and re-borrowing them, I even lugged a couple to Sri Lanka and back! My parents were so proud of my vivacious reading, if only they knew what I was reading; delicious illusions of immortality, love between men whispered in French, bisexuality and explicit slivers of porn. One of the books even had a lusty hermaphrodite in it. I’m laughing as I think about my informal education.

Eventually it got to this stage where I was re-borrowing these books but getting frustrated because other (presumably) teenagers were putting holds on my books. Filled with the romance that these novels imparted, I wrote on a Post-It note something similar to this:

Hi there,

I don’t know you, but I love Anne Rice. My favourtie book is Merrick. What’s yours? I also like Dimmu Borgir and Cradle of Filth. Do you like death metal?

Enjoy this book

Lots of love, a fellow fan

Yes, I’m serious. I stuck that to the inside cover of a library book in the hope of finding a kindred spirit. Needless to say, I didn’t, although when I checked last, nobody removed the note.

Ten years and a one-way trip to Washington D.C later, I was borrowing this library book to find someone has left a shopping list in there. I couldn’t be more stoked.

A shopping list is completely voyueristic. One can only guess at the type of person who felt the need to write cheese and crackers twice. And on the back of a church’s form. I’m imaging a fit woman in her 50s with blue-tinted hair and wrinkles around her eyes. She has to be F-I-T, look at her diet.

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This brings me to our first ever adventure on Little Flutters.

I want your shopping list! I want us to reach out to complete strangers like a love-sick teen, to show a window into our stomachs. To look for similarities and hope for a connection.

I will only link if you want to, otherwise it’s totally anonymous. It can be scanned or photographed, let your creativity reign.

Send to tash@littleflutters.com and have some fun with this.

Lots of joy and hugs,

Tash