I have to admit that I feel a bit guilty that it has been a month since I posted last, but those feelings should end now, ummmmm ok NOW. I know Rainbow readers don't want me to feel guilty for a posting pause and probably enjoy the break from my recent lengthy blog posts, so these feelings are all on me. There is no more perfect day than today to stop caring about the should and worrying about the guilt.
I turned 30 today and of all the possible ways I could feel with today's monumental event, I feel loved and supported the most. I am grateful to have such wonderful and caring people in my life. My friends and family took care, thought, time and effort to make today a special day for me. Thank you!
To my caring family and friends: In the past I have celebrated wonderful birthdays, but today was really special, and memorable. I am excited about all that the coming 4th decade will bring. I predict that this age is will direct me toward the relationships and individuals that matter most and prioritize what is most important to me. For each of you who has shared love and this day with me, thank you. I hope that I am able to do the same for you.
Cheers to the beats of my 30 year old heart. thathump thathump thathump clink.
9.05.2008
8.01.2008
A Legend of a Ride
The true story I am about to tell is one of heart pounding excitement, sadness and pride.
Act 1:
After a delicious Newtown Thai meal and a windy walk to the bus stop, burrr, Joaquin and I boarded the bus home. The bus was pretty full, and there were no available seats so we stood near the rear exit. We passed a few stops when a man who had been sitting at the back (I'll call him Man 1 - - picture scruffy, spends time on the streets drinking too much alcohol, dirty hands, missing teeth, might talk to himself - - ) walked toward the rear door. He noticed a Indian man (Man 2 - - 20-30's who looked as if he was on his way home from a long day at the office) sitting near the door.
Act 2:
Man 1 notices Man 2 and starts mumbling. Man 2 ignores Man 1 and continues to look out the window. Man 1 doesn't like Man 2 ignoring him so he starts spitting racial slurs. "racial slur"
Man 2 continues to ignore as does the woman stranger sitting between Man 2 and the standing Man 1. Man 1 goes for it again, this time louder "RaCiAl SlUr + grating taunt + hand gesture"
Joaquin and I pick up on what is happening and look at each other in disbelief.
The bus keeps rolling along and Man 1 does not give up, he leans over toward the face of Man 2 and says "RACIAL SLUR" No one on the bus moves, not man 2, not the woman sitting next to Man 2, not 2/3 of the people riding the bus who are now aware of what is happening. No one says anything to Man 1...except for Joaquin.
He turns to the man and says "Hey, why don't you shut the f**** up?"
Act 3:
Man 1's attention is now off Man 2 and on to Joaquin. He starts yelling at Joaquin "Why don't you mind your own business?" Joaquin quickly points out that Man 1 himself wasn't minding his own business by yelling at Man 2.
A seat opens up near us and Joaquin and I scoot into it. Man 1 begins mocking Joaquin in a whiny voice, repeating to himself "why don't you shut the f*** up, why don't you shut the f*** up, I'll punch you in the mouth, you mother f." I am looking straight into Man 1's eyes, glaring at him, holding my breath because I am also on the verge of saying something. I glare and hope that he feels judged. In attempt to ignore Man 1, we try to continue our conversation (me: staring, Joaquin: looking forward), the doors of the bus open and as Man 1 is exiting he slaps the back of Joaquin's head.
Act 4:
At this moment, and it is a very quick moment, Joaquin gets out of his seat and helps Man 1 out the door with a shove. Man 1 lunges back on the bus with a swing and miss. Joaquin pushes Man 1 out of the bus again as I yell to the driver to close the doors and drive... nothing happens. Man 1 gets back on the bus taunting Joaquin to get off the bus for a full on brawl, some additional voices have joined in my plea to the driver as an older woman says loudly "I need to get off" (why she didn't turn around, take 7 steps and use the front doors makes me want to do something a bit more aggressive than take away her daily scone) and the driver again does nothing. Joaquin finally pushes Man 1 to the ground the woman asks in a crackly voice "it is safe to get off the bus now" she exits, the driver closes the doors and continues his drive.
Act 5:
As soon as the bus moves there are some cheers from the back of the bus and a young woman shouts "YOU ARE A LEGEND" (she said it again a few stops later as she exited the bus).
Man 2 got out of his seat to exit and asked Joaquin "are you ok?"
Joaquin: "Yeah, I am fine"
Man 2: "I am really sorry about that"
Joaquin: "I am sorry too."
Man 2: "Well, thank you."
And all of a sudden the bus is as normal as always, chugging along to the rhythm of the stops and starts while my heart was pounding. It was pounding with adrenalin from the incident and pounding with pride. It is hard for me to believe that no one else stood up for Man 2 on the bus, especially when Joaquin stepped in. Everyone just listened to their Ipods, read their books, looked out the window and pretended to ignore an incident that should never be ignored.
The optimistic Buckogirl hopes that, like myself, other people were inspired by Joaquin's courage to speak up and in the future will not be frozen by our own self-interest.
Cheers to Joaquin - - - this one is all yours. clink.
Act 1:
After a delicious Newtown Thai meal and a windy walk to the bus stop, burrr, Joaquin and I boarded the bus home. The bus was pretty full, and there were no available seats so we stood near the rear exit. We passed a few stops when a man who had been sitting at the back (I'll call him Man 1 - - picture scruffy, spends time on the streets drinking too much alcohol, dirty hands, missing teeth, might talk to himself - - ) walked toward the rear door. He noticed a Indian man (Man 2 - - 20-30's who looked as if he was on his way home from a long day at the office) sitting near the door.
Act 2:
Man 1 notices Man 2 and starts mumbling. Man 2 ignores Man 1 and continues to look out the window. Man 1 doesn't like Man 2 ignoring him so he starts spitting racial slurs. "racial slur"
Man 2 continues to ignore as does the woman stranger sitting between Man 2 and the standing Man 1. Man 1 goes for it again, this time louder "RaCiAl SlUr + grating taunt + hand gesture"
Joaquin and I pick up on what is happening and look at each other in disbelief.
The bus keeps rolling along and Man 1 does not give up, he leans over toward the face of Man 2 and says "RACIAL SLUR" No one on the bus moves, not man 2, not the woman sitting next to Man 2, not 2/3 of the people riding the bus who are now aware of what is happening. No one says anything to Man 1...except for Joaquin.
He turns to the man and says "Hey, why don't you shut the f**** up?"
Act 3:
Man 1's attention is now off Man 2 and on to Joaquin. He starts yelling at Joaquin "Why don't you mind your own business?" Joaquin quickly points out that Man 1 himself wasn't minding his own business by yelling at Man 2.
A seat opens up near us and Joaquin and I scoot into it. Man 1 begins mocking Joaquin in a whiny voice, repeating to himself "why don't you shut the f*** up, why don't you shut the f*** up, I'll punch you in the mouth, you mother f." I am looking straight into Man 1's eyes, glaring at him, holding my breath because I am also on the verge of saying something. I glare and hope that he feels judged. In attempt to ignore Man 1, we try to continue our conversation (me: staring, Joaquin: looking forward), the doors of the bus open and as Man 1 is exiting he slaps the back of Joaquin's head.
Act 4:
At this moment, and it is a very quick moment, Joaquin gets out of his seat and helps Man 1 out the door with a shove. Man 1 lunges back on the bus with a swing and miss. Joaquin pushes Man 1 out of the bus again as I yell to the driver to close the doors and drive... nothing happens. Man 1 gets back on the bus taunting Joaquin to get off the bus for a full on brawl, some additional voices have joined in my plea to the driver as an older woman says loudly "I need to get off" (why she didn't turn around, take 7 steps and use the front doors makes me want to do something a bit more aggressive than take away her daily scone) and the driver again does nothing. Joaquin finally pushes Man 1 to the ground the woman asks in a crackly voice "it is safe to get off the bus now" she exits, the driver closes the doors and continues his drive.
Act 5:
As soon as the bus moves there are some cheers from the back of the bus and a young woman shouts "YOU ARE A LEGEND" (she said it again a few stops later as she exited the bus).
Man 2 got out of his seat to exit and asked Joaquin "are you ok?"
Joaquin: "Yeah, I am fine"
Man 2: "I am really sorry about that"
Joaquin: "I am sorry too."
Man 2: "Well, thank you."
And all of a sudden the bus is as normal as always, chugging along to the rhythm of the stops and starts while my heart was pounding. It was pounding with adrenalin from the incident and pounding with pride. It is hard for me to believe that no one else stood up for Man 2 on the bus, especially when Joaquin stepped in. Everyone just listened to their Ipods, read their books, looked out the window and pretended to ignore an incident that should never be ignored.
The optimistic Buckogirl hopes that, like myself, other people were inspired by Joaquin's courage to speak up and in the future will not be frozen by our own self-interest.
Cheers to Joaquin - - - this one is all yours. clink.
7.18.2008
Is inner dialogue a sign of a lonely self?
Officially, I’ve been in Sydney 1 month. Last night I went to my first event to try to meet some new friends. I thought a pretty safe place to start would be with the Jewish Community, so I went to a young (25 – 40) professionals happy hour event. Joaquin was planning on meeting me there so I arrived alone to a large bar, with a DJ spinning some tracks and free house wine and beer for an hour.
Before I go any further know these stats:
# of people I knew* in Sydney before I arrived: 6 (including Joaquin)
# of contacts my friends have connected me to: 5
# of people I have found on my own via internet (not the scary kind of internet): 2
*knew = had met in person at least once
So, that is lucky 13? Ok, not bad, I gotta start somewhere. I think most of the ‘Rainbow’ readers who know me would agree that I am pretty outgoing, and generally enjoy chatting up strangers.
We now return to the networking event: As expected the room was buzzing with conversation, decently attractive people – the usual of what one would imagine at an event like this – people in small groups shouting at each other trying to have a normal conversation over the music. In a place where I know more than 13 people on the continent I would usually be working the room, saying hi to people I might have met a few times before, introducing friends to each other, meeting new people, catching up with friends I haven’t seen in a while, but this event in this bar feels nothing like what I know. There are some surrogates (faces that somewhat resemble people I know from a life before Oz) but it settles in that I am not in a familiar place. I grab a Chardonnay (clearly my wine of the moment) at the bar and search around the room for a good place to stand. I rule out any corners or tables against the wall with low chairs and find a tallboy table that some people are standing near in the center of the room. I take my wine to the table and ask if they mind for me to place my bag on the stool. “No worries” someone says. I think “Ok, made first contact.” I look around the room keenly aware that being totally anonymous in a room full of people is a situation I have rarely experienced. In a way I want to savor this moment. It doesn’t feel lonely, it feels special. Like knowing a secret that everyone in the room doesn’t know yet– I know what I have to offer as a potential friend and the lucky people I meet tonight don’t have a clue what might be coming to them – Perfectly content I sip my wine and try to imagine what conversations would be like with some of the people around me.
There are two guys in suits standing closest to me and I make eye contact with one of them. We smile courteously at each other and he continues a conversation with his better looking friend who I imagine to be a total A-hole.
SIDEBAR: Part of the fun of being anonymous in a room and in my brain is that I can make meaningless snap judgments (snappies) about people and there are no consequences. Now, hold your snappies towards me right there, readers…nothing would please me more than to have my negative snappies bite me in the bottom and teach me a lesson. After all, it would be duly deserved to someone who makes snappies in the first place. I shouldn’t be rewarded with true predictions about people if I am judging them negatively on their appearance alone. END OF SIDEBAR
I hear the smiling guy mention something to his friend about the fact that I have a ring on and they continue their conversation. I begin to wonder if tonight’s meeting people adventure will be more challenging than I expected. I remember to smile and look friendly, so I don’t scare away a Sydney version of Buckogirl. All of a sudden I have switched from feeling like I have something to offer everyone in the room to feeling self conscious.
I think:
---Am I at a singles event? Will people see my ring and wonder why I came to this event and not bother talking to me? How am I ever going to meet people?”
I give myself a pep talk :
---Ok, Bucko.g - you need a strategy. I need to figure out a way to break into some of these conversations. If only I had a wingman – where is Joaquin anyway?”
My mind is blank. Everything I think of sounds like it came from a book written by a socially awkward gym teacher or a creep monger.
“Hi. I thought it was time to stop being anonymous so I wanted to introduce myself.”
---NO.
“Um, do you know what time it is? Oh. So that is X more minutes until the tab is over?”
---NO.
“Hi, sorry to interrupt your likely interesting conversation to report that I just moved to Sydney and I don’t know anyone.”
---Nah – has potential, but needs a bit of editing.
“Wanna new friend?”
---what the hell is happening to me? I’m just going to stand here, look friendly and hope that someone talks to me.
So, I wait and look around the room for other people who are standing alone. I eye someone who looks like they were actually the writer of the lines above. Errr, I really hope HE doesn’t talk to me.
Eventually I met a woman who also came alone. We chatted for a bit and decided to walk about the room. I get caught by a group of 3 people who are talking about the amount of pheromones in the room. As I pass them I say “to get the sex you have to really want the sex” they laugh and ask me about my accent and I think…I AM BACK.
Last night I realized that meeting people is going to take a lot more time and effort than I hoped. I want to make the most of my time here and feel motivated to try this again. So, here is the deal: Last night, was the first of a series of social experiments I will be conducting as I place myself in situations where I don’t know anyone. I imagine that the places I hit will not always be structured events, some will be bars, some coffee shops, some stores, the gym…etc. If you have suggestions for opening lines or would like to share stories about being in a room of strangers, please feel free to post below. I will report back on my progress.
Cheers to feeling encouraged to go on with my social self and turn lucky number 13 into something that isn’t a prime. clink.
Before I go any further know these stats:
# of people I knew* in Sydney before I arrived: 6 (including Joaquin)
# of contacts my friends have connected me to: 5
# of people I have found on my own via internet (not the scary kind of internet): 2
*knew = had met in person at least once
So, that is lucky 13? Ok, not bad, I gotta start somewhere. I think most of the ‘Rainbow’ readers who know me would agree that I am pretty outgoing, and generally enjoy chatting up strangers.
We now return to the networking event: As expected the room was buzzing with conversation, decently attractive people – the usual of what one would imagine at an event like this – people in small groups shouting at each other trying to have a normal conversation over the music. In a place where I know more than 13 people on the continent I would usually be working the room, saying hi to people I might have met a few times before, introducing friends to each other, meeting new people, catching up with friends I haven’t seen in a while, but this event in this bar feels nothing like what I know. There are some surrogates (faces that somewhat resemble people I know from a life before Oz) but it settles in that I am not in a familiar place. I grab a Chardonnay (clearly my wine of the moment) at the bar and search around the room for a good place to stand. I rule out any corners or tables against the wall with low chairs and find a tallboy table that some people are standing near in the center of the room. I take my wine to the table and ask if they mind for me to place my bag on the stool. “No worries” someone says. I think “Ok, made first contact.” I look around the room keenly aware that being totally anonymous in a room full of people is a situation I have rarely experienced. In a way I want to savor this moment. It doesn’t feel lonely, it feels special. Like knowing a secret that everyone in the room doesn’t know yet– I know what I have to offer as a potential friend and the lucky people I meet tonight don’t have a clue what might be coming to them – Perfectly content I sip my wine and try to imagine what conversations would be like with some of the people around me.
There are two guys in suits standing closest to me and I make eye contact with one of them. We smile courteously at each other and he continues a conversation with his better looking friend who I imagine to be a total A-hole.
SIDEBAR: Part of the fun of being anonymous in a room and in my brain is that I can make meaningless snap judgments (snappies) about people and there are no consequences. Now, hold your snappies towards me right there, readers…nothing would please me more than to have my negative snappies bite me in the bottom and teach me a lesson. After all, it would be duly deserved to someone who makes snappies in the first place. I shouldn’t be rewarded with true predictions about people if I am judging them negatively on their appearance alone. END OF SIDEBAR
I hear the smiling guy mention something to his friend about the fact that I have a ring on and they continue their conversation. I begin to wonder if tonight’s meeting people adventure will be more challenging than I expected. I remember to smile and look friendly, so I don’t scare away a Sydney version of Buckogirl. All of a sudden I have switched from feeling like I have something to offer everyone in the room to feeling self conscious.
I think:
---Am I at a singles event? Will people see my ring and wonder why I came to this event and not bother talking to me? How am I ever going to meet people?”
I give myself a pep talk :
---Ok, Bucko.g - you need a strategy. I need to figure out a way to break into some of these conversations. If only I had a wingman – where is Joaquin anyway?”
My mind is blank. Everything I think of sounds like it came from a book written by a socially awkward gym teacher or a creep monger.
“Hi. I thought it was time to stop being anonymous so I wanted to introduce myself.”
---NO.
“Um, do you know what time it is? Oh. So that is X more minutes until the tab is over?”
---NO.
“Hi, sorry to interrupt your likely interesting conversation to report that I just moved to Sydney and I don’t know anyone.”
---Nah – has potential, but needs a bit of editing.
“Wanna new friend?”
---what the hell is happening to me? I’m just going to stand here, look friendly and hope that someone talks to me.
So, I wait and look around the room for other people who are standing alone. I eye someone who looks like they were actually the writer of the lines above. Errr, I really hope HE doesn’t talk to me.
Eventually I met a woman who also came alone. We chatted for a bit and decided to walk about the room. I get caught by a group of 3 people who are talking about the amount of pheromones in the room. As I pass them I say “to get the sex you have to really want the sex” they laugh and ask me about my accent and I think…I AM BACK.
Last night I realized that meeting people is going to take a lot more time and effort than I hoped. I want to make the most of my time here and feel motivated to try this again. So, here is the deal: Last night, was the first of a series of social experiments I will be conducting as I place myself in situations where I don’t know anyone. I imagine that the places I hit will not always be structured events, some will be bars, some coffee shops, some stores, the gym…etc. If you have suggestions for opening lines or would like to share stories about being in a room of strangers, please feel free to post below. I will report back on my progress.
Cheers to feeling encouraged to go on with my social self and turn lucky number 13 into something that isn’t a prime. clink.
7.16.2008
Waaaaa, I don't like the way you look.
Something I am learning about the government of Australia, or more specifically New South Wales (NSW), is that they don't like to show the rest of the world Australia's true colors. They represent a glorious 1st world country where everyone is happy and everything magical. You come here and know that this IS the place where skittles fall from the sky. But, when fast food chains and 200,000 Catholic Pilgrims converge on the world down under you better believe that behind the mask of beauty hides a repressive beast.The Pope has arrived for a week long celebration called World Youth Day. For the occasion the NSW police issued statements warning people of a $5500 fine and jail time for "annoying" Catholics. This included handing out condoms, protesting, wearing a t-shirt that someone doesn't like or just looking at someone the wrong way. Also for this occasion they have removed 130 homeless people from Sydney. Heaven forbid the Catholic visitors see the city's disadvantaged sect.
In disbelief, I have heard reports that Australians have eaten the final cherry and reached the coveted position of "fattest nation in the world". Gee thanks Australia, now what does America have to be a leader in? I'm a Texan girl and have been witness to the "everything bigger" line and it is true in TX and all over the Midwest. In defense of America's heavyweight title I argued this new finding with my Aussie friend James who said "we just hide all our fatties away."
Now I understand that's what they do with all their problems.
Follow up question: What happens to the overbearing moms who point out imperfections to be concealed when the country does it for them?
Cheers to not falling for a typical Aussie trick. clink.
ps. I thought the readers would want to know that yesterday the Federal Court struck down the "annoyance" law and people have happily been handing out condoms and protesting in the nude, just the way god intended it.
7.15.2008
Kiss this 'Sideways'
Went to the 'bun (Melbourne) this weekend. It is quite different from Sydney. It is more edgy and funky. There are unique bars and cafe's all over the place, most likely because it costs $300 for a liquor license, where in Sydney it costs $10K. It reminded me a little of NYC, a little of an unidentified European city and a pinch of Austin. Like the Hill Country of Central Texas, Melbourne has the Yarra Valley wine region, known for a climate primed to produce world loved Pinots about an hour away. We visited a few wineries, drank our share of free tastings and without a doubt I preferred the Chard. Don't worry sir Noir, I will continue my attempts at sophistication and pretend to like your acidic aftertaste.Cheers to a surprising outcome, whoda thought it was always the Chardonnay? clink.
No, I am not Canadian
is the disappointing phrase I am forced to utter when playing a game the locals like to call - - cue the yellow flashy lights and the announcer voice - -"Do you mind if I guess where you're from?" Honestly, I don't mind playing that game. It is nice that people are paying attention to me, I just wonder why they always guess Canadian. Perhaps it is the red sweatshirt with a white leaf that has about 5 points that I wear around, or maybe not.
On another note, I'm really in the mood for a night out on the town with my girls. Imagine cosmos, the deep beats of club music and some frivolous and silly dancing.
I know you're with me - but this dance party is a solo one happening in my head as I walk down the street groovin' to Timbaland on my ipod shuffle. I think "it's cool if I skip and you notice 'cuz I will never see you again, and I'm the one skipping. Jealous?"
Cheers to Canada, my home away, from home away, from home. clink.
On another note, I'm really in the mood for a night out on the town with my girls. Imagine cosmos, the deep beats of club music and some frivolous and silly dancing.
I know you're with me - but this dance party is a solo one happening in my head as I walk down the street groovin' to Timbaland on my ipod shuffle. I think "it's cool if I skip and you notice 'cuz I will never see you again, and I'm the one skipping. Jealous?"
Cheers to Canada, my home away, from home away, from home. clink.
7.07.2008
Coffee BUZZZZZZZ
Some Rainbow Readers have asked me "what does Sydney looks like?" There is no better way to show you than in pictures. Yesterday I met my friend Terico at the Aroma Festival. We did our fair share of smelling things, but also drinking TONS of coffee in all the different forms (cappuccino, macchiato, flat white, latte, affogato, mocha...etc) that one can enjoy it with the one exception of drip / brew. They just don't violate coffee that way here.
Terico is a photographer and he made a video of his walk to the festival. It shows the Central Business District of Sydney (Downtown).
This is another cool video he shot while we were there:
Good day, bad night. Good coffee, bad stomach.
Cheers to testing the limit. clink.
Terico is a photographer and he made a video of his walk to the festival. It shows the Central Business District of Sydney (Downtown).
This is another cool video he shot while we were there:
Good day, bad night. Good coffee, bad stomach.
Cheers to testing the limit. clink.
7.02.2008
Wanker! / pron. Wan • kà /
Look at this house, just look at it. When I look at this house I think “the person who lives there is undoubtedly a wanker”. They exist in this perfectly futuristic, iconic glass house, overlooking downtown Sydney and the harbour and they are selling it. So, they are a wanker for owning this house and for selling it. I believe that it hasn’t yet been decided who will own this house next, but I have concluded that unless the individual plans on having a lot parties and inviting me to them, he/she is a wanker too.A wanker is not the lowest level one can reach. Below the rank of plain wanker is wanker-modern-artist. I cant decide who is worse, the artist that creates a piece of crap with the smallest amount of effort or the curator who thinks that the public wants to see a cardboard box with a piece of Styrofoam at the bottom and a new lamp still in its plastic packaging set upright in the box. I am not at all being uncharitable, that “piece” if you can call it that, was a total piece of trash. A wanker-modern-artist is someone who clearly thinks that their excrement smells of roses and everyone alive cares about what they think. I went to the Museum of Contemporary Art this past weekend to check out part of the Biennale arts festival. Most of the work at the MCA was made by lazy, pretentious wanker-modern-artists who think that laminating 4 copied pages of handwriting and taping this uncut lamination to the wall with 2 pieces of white masking tape is art.
I am an art enthusiast, but I believe that effort and skill are important elements of creating art, the artist's attitude is not.
Cheers to a new curse word that is fun to say…and to the real deal. clink.
6.25.2008
Life's too short for generic peaches
In a city where I know about 4 people I find myself alone a lot. One benefit of buckogirl time is that I am more aware of what happens around me.
Food shopping makes for an incredibly expensive excursion so I have found a discount grocery (Aldi) nearby to help support our sustenance. Shopping around the other day at Aldi wondering if any of the generic items in my cart would actually taste any good or perhaps make me ill, I overheard a father point out the section of canned peaches to his ~6 year old daughter. She chose a can and the father said "what about this can instead, it's cheaper." The daughter replied in a cute Aussie accent "Don't more expensive peaches taste better?"
Cheers to little girls with good taste. We have to come from somewhere. clink.
Sigh, my clothes may never be clean
I hadn't thought that a task like laundry could be complicated.
It is now time to phone a friend and I need your help. Which of the following slots does the detergent go into?
A. The one on the left
B. The one in the middle
C. The one on the right
Cheers to friends who will answer a call for help. clink.
6.24.2008
"I promise I am not a stupid American"
is what I have wanted to say to the many people who have encountered "future buckogirl" in Sydney so far (future buckogirl is what my friends back in Austin call me, how I wish it were true - talk about a get rich scheme). I could blame it on the jet lag, the cold or the language barrier, but even a charitable me would roll her eyes.
I am keeping a list of the stupid things I do / say and for your amusement here is the first of probably heaps more.
Shopping in the produce area of the grocery I noticed a bin near the peppers that had a sign reading "Australian Pride." Naturally curious, I examined the item running a list in my head of all the items it could possibly be. I thought it was a potato, but it was unclear since the bin had an opportunity to be in the potato section that I had already passed over and wasn't. I became excited about the possibility that this could perhaps be some kind of vegetable I have never tried. THOUGHT BUBBLE: Australian Pride, the next soy product for vegetarians, I could cook it in all ways, with different sauces, this must be a miracle vegetable the Aussies are keeping top secret. Just to confirm I had found the holy grail of vegetables, I thought I would double check and ask someone. I walked up to a guy who seemed about my age with the magic veggie in hand, and asked "Um, excuse me, I think this will probably sound like a silly question, but...is this a potato?" The man looked at me, the item and laughed "yes. What did you think it was?" I had to think quick because I didn't want to seem crazy and stupid, so I said "maybe some kind of turnip?"
Cheers to being anonymous, the perfect situation to act a fool. clink.
6.23.2008
Manly in all the right ways
Oh Manly Beach, you are quite lovely. Taking a walk along the coast as the sun lowered itself over the water was a perfect Sunday afternoon. If only the wind wasn't blowing so strong. It is easy to forget about the cold when you have views that take your breath away.
Cheers to a swimming hole on the edge of the ocean and to brave middle aged men in red speedos swimming in 60 degree water. clink.
Why yes, that is my can of spray paint
Sydney University is the oldest and one of the two most prestigious universities in Australia. I was happily surprised to walk through a graffiti tunnel while exploring the campus with joaquin. As we strolled on through we inhaled the chemical fumes as "artists" tagged over the works of others. If only we Americans could be trusting enough to handle a can of spray paint.
Cheers to alternative ways of relieving stress. clink.
A first time for anything
Lots of firsts:
First time in the Southern Hemisphere; first time moving to a city for someone else; first time flying over the Pacific; first time on a plane for 16 hours; first time bloggin'; first time waking up at 5:45 AM in order to work so I can try to overlap a few hours with my coworkers back in Austin; first time to hear a world famous academic say "paw paw" when referring to a papaya and having to hold back giggles; First time eating a fish called Barramundi and something called a Bay Bug (both fish native to Australia). I've only been in Sydney for a week and I know that there will be many more "firsts" to add to the list.
Cheers to many firsts we all have yet to experience. clink.
First time in the Southern Hemisphere; first time moving to a city for someone else; first time flying over the Pacific; first time on a plane for 16 hours; first time bloggin'; first time waking up at 5:45 AM in order to work so I can try to overlap a few hours with my coworkers back in Austin; first time to hear a world famous academic say "paw paw" when referring to a papaya and having to hold back giggles; First time eating a fish called Barramundi and something called a Bay Bug (both fish native to Australia). I've only been in Sydney for a week and I know that there will be many more "firsts" to add to the list.
Cheers to many firsts we all have yet to experience. clink.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
