I Got 99 Problems (And They're All Pretty Manageable)

Wide Open

2012-02-15T09:03:00.001-08:00

“Fuck concepts. Don't be afraid to be confused. Try to remain permanently confused. Anything is possible. Stay open, forever, so open it hurts, and then open up some more, until the day you die, world without end, amen.”

-George Saunders

Lactose, But Not Intolerably So

2012-02-12T21:17:00.000-08:00

The Invitation

By Oriah

It doesn’tinterest me

what you do for aliving.

I want to know

what you ache for

and if you dare todream

of meeting yourheart’s longing.

It doesn’tinterest me

how old you are.

I want to know

if you will risk

looking like afool

for love

for your dream

for the adventureof being alive.

It doesn’tinterest me

what planets are

squaring yourmoon…

I want to know

if you havetouched

the center of yourown sorrow

if you have beenopened

by life’sbetrayals

or have becomeshriveled and closed

from fear offurther pain.

I want to know

if you can sitwith pain

mine or your own

without moving tohide it

or fade it

or fix it.

I want to know

if you can be withjoy

mine or your own

if you can dancewith wildness

and let theecstasy fill you

to the tips ofyour fingers and toes

without cautioningus

to be careful

to be realistic

to remember thelimitations

of being human.

It doesn’tinterest me

if the story youare telling me

is true.

I want to know ifyou can

disappoint another

to be true toyourself.

If you can bear

the accusation ofbetrayal

and not betrayyour own soul.

If you can befaithless

and thereforetrustworthy.

I want to know ifyou can see Beauty

even when it isnot pretty

every day.

And if you cansource your own life

from its presence.

I want to know

if you can livewith failure

yours and mine

and still stand atthe edge of the lake

and shout to thesilver of the full moon,

“Yes.”

It doesn’tinterest me

to know where youlive

or how much moneyyou have.

I want to know ifyou can get up

after the night ofgrief and despair

weary and bruisedto the bone

and do what needsto be done

to feed thechildren.

It doesn’tinterest me

who you know

or how you came tobe here.

I want to know ifyou will stand

in the center ofthe fire

with me

and not shrinkback.

It doesn’tinterest me

where or what orwith whom

you have studied.

I want to know

what sustains you

from the inside

when all elsefalls away.

I want to know

if you can bealone

with yourself

and if you trulylike

the company youkeep

in the emptymoments.

Step right up, step right up and listen close:

2012-02-08T21:49:00.000-08:00

Fuck the beef and just let the pot roast.

Not Wrong

2012-01-17T20:49:00.000-08:00

“According to Gur's theory of boredom, everything that happens in the world today is because of boredom: love, war, inventions, fake fireplaces - ninety-five percent of all that is pure boredom.”

-Etgar Keret, "The Nimrod Flipout: Stories"

You Squeeze, and Squeeze, Until---Pop

2011-12-14T20:29:00.000-08:00

Highly recommended.

Mi Barrio Del Baila

2011-12-09T21:47:00.001-08:00

Watch the Film | Girl Walk // All Day

http://girlwalkallday.com/watch-the-film

Credit Where It's Due

2011-11-30T10:56:00.001-08:00

Serena: it was all just a failed attempt to time travel

Serena: i mean, i've been on this ride before

Serena: if you keep doing what you've always done, you'll keep getting what you'vealways gotten

Bieber, Bieber, Bieber, Oh.

2011-11-16T10:53:00.001-08:00

Checking Yourself Before Wrecking Yourself

2011-11-09T19:45:00.001-08:00

Bioluminescence

2011-10-10T20:44:00.000-07:00

Sentimentality and Other Traits Darwin Forgot to Account For

2011-09-19T20:18:00.000-07:00

It should be noted that of all the human traits, Sentimentality is the most jealous. No matter how many times you cheat on it with impulse or beer, it always comes back. And usually with a vengeance. Somehow, Sentimentality continues to believe in you and is certain that the love you two share on lonely nights is enough, and because of that, it can't leave you. It won't leave you. Actually, Sentimentality will be goddamned if you think it's going to leave you, because it knows that secretly, or maybe not so secretly, you feel the same way. You may not say it enough--or at all--but Sentimentality knows. Sentimentality sees that dreamy face you make when those songs come on at the bar or on the radio in the car or on that obscure Pandora station you created partly to evade Sentimentality in the first place. And that's why Sentimentality sticks around. Because of the history you two have. Because of the future you two created long ago. Because that history and that future you both can't let go of has turned into the present, and you're stuck in it. And just when Sentimentality starts to wear you down enough that you finally let it in and accept it as your fate, something gets in the way and that predictably sad carousel of sentimental history just stops. And you're able to let go of the painted pony you've been holding onto for dear life, forget about Sentimentality for a while, and see forests for trees again.

Cursed be he who can't remember, but blessed be he who can forget.

Money Can't Buy Happiness But it Can Buy Everything Else

2011-09-12T08:41:00.000-07:00

Time and Thoughts About It

2011-08-23T21:13:00.000-07:00

I've been thinking a lot lately. I've also been thinking a lot lately about time. Not in an existential way, really. More in an experiential way. I guess.

Something about this summer (and year as a whole) felt quicker than summers past, and it's the first time I've ever been sad to get older. If you know anything about me, you know how much I love the aging process. I don't presume to kid when I say that I'd rather spend my time with octogenarians than nearly anyone else, and I'm honestly looking forward to getting older myself--if for no other reason than: it's definitely going to happen, so it's better to embrace it than run from it.

And yet. And yet, this summer, I'm sad. I'm sad to grow older and subsequently grow away from my youth. I've never thought about it like that, and I'm sorry I just did, but it's the truth. The older you get, the further you grow. And, the further you grow, the less young you become. Science is a hell of a Thing.

What's more is that we seem to have surrounded ourselves by time. Literally, everywhere you look (at least in NYC), there's the time. On subway platforms, in the trains themselves, on your wrist, on your iPod, on your phone, on your computer screen, and even on the wall. You can't escape it. How many times do I turn on some device only to have to turn it back on again three seconds later because I forgot to check the time. I forgot to check the time, and it was right there!

And yet. And yet, I never seem to know what time it is. Is it possible that it's become so ubiquitous, so entirely everywhere, that Time as a Thing--a Thing Which Can Be Known--has almost completely faded into the background of my day-to-day? Has Time become a nuisance like the homeless people I pass throughout my day and give little more than a one-sided smile to, which I do to make me feel better since I know it doesn't help them in the least, but I somehow can't stop doing it, because it's my way of acknowledging that they're still People even if they don't feel like they're part of the rest of People?

No. Time isn't a nuisance. Time is a really, really big tidal wave that crashes on the shore in the middle of the night and washes every footprint and sand castle away, leaving fresh, like-new sand in its wake. The next day, you forget that there used to be sand castles where you plant your umbrella. And the day after that. And the day after that. Until suddenly, you forget that the waves come at all.

On the Significance of Accessories

2011-08-11T20:21:00.000-07:00

"As Harold took a bite of a Bavarian sugar cookie, he finally felt as if everything was going to be OK. Sometimes, when we lose ourselves in fear and despair, in routine and constancy, in hopelessness and tragedy, we can thank God for Bavarian sugar cookies. And, fortunately, when there aren't any cookies, we can still find reassurance in a familiar hand on our skin, or a kind and loving gesture, or subtle encouragement, or a loving embrace, or an offer of comfort, not to mention hospital gurneys and nose plugs, an uneaten Danish, soft-spoken secrets, and Fender Stratocasters, and maybe the occasional piece of fiction. And we must remember that all these things, the nuances, the anomalies, the subtleties, which we assume only accessorize our days, are effective for a much larger and nobler cause. They are here to save our lives. I know the idea seems strange, but I also know that it just so happens to be true. And, so it was, a wristwatch saved Harold Crick."

Taken out of context, you would have no idea that Will Ferrell was Harold Crick.

John Waters + David Simon = Pink Flamingos on The Wire

2011-08-06T09:17:00.000-07:00

I'm currently en route to Baltimore, MD, wherein I will see my long lost older sister and less long lost parents. Nobody is from Baltimore, but Baltimore is where we're going.

Becky's been living in Portland, OR, for a while now and it's been a while since we were in the same physical location. You forget how far away you are from people sometimes. You forget because of Skype and texts and very well-written emails. But you remember how far away you are when you finally get together, after all kinds of public and private transportation mediums and an unfortunate lack of travel music due to an unfortunate lack of head phones.

Public (and very affordable private) transportation is probably my favorite part of Things. It's so weird and beautiful and human to travel with strangers. It's like humanity on tour. I guess it actually is humanity on tour. Everyone gets the same kind of treatment and nobody is in charge. Even the driver becomes part of the humanity at some point in the journey. Usually, for me, that point happens when s/he pulls over to use the bathroom. That's even more human than travel.

I do my best thinking in motion. Also, my best Wikipedia research. Did you know 2Pac went to high school in Baltimore?

Senses of Humors

2011-06-29T20:03:00.000-07:00

Full Circles and Growth Spurts

2011-06-27T08:16:00.000-07:00

Saw Dispatch last night at The Garden in Boston. Their new stuff was not immediately good, but maybe that's because it's new. Their old stuff was good, and the more old stuff they played, the better the show got.

The last time I saw them in Boston, I was freshly graduated from high school and ready for Life, by which I mean, college in Pittsburgh. And I had no idea what was coming.

This time, I'm back home from having lived some Life, by which I mean, traveling in other parts of The World. I'm employed, and I'm itching to retire.

Weird how much happens in 7 years. And, how little some things change.

Ah, life.

My Lactose > Your Lactose

2011-06-22T20:15:00.000-07:00

White Boy Soul

2011-06-20T19:59:00.000-07:00

Learning Experiences and Other Euphemisms for Mistakes

2011-06-20T19:11:00.000-07:00

1. Growth Opportunities

2. Teachable Moments

3. Happy Accidents

4. "My little brother, Matt."

Things That Make You Go Hmmm

2011-06-07T13:34:00.000-07:00

http://awesomepeoplehangingouttogether.tumblr.com/

Shaq and Dr. Ruth are my desktop background at work.

Exposing the Funk

2011-06-02T20:41:00.000-07:00

Shorty, Don't Wait.

2011-05-29T22:43:00.001-07:00

I wonder, I wonder.

2011-05-25T10:16:00.000-07:00

I wanna shed my skin, my hair, my face
I've got money saved up
I can buy a new name...

But I wonder,
How many Mennonites might feel just like this?
I'll learn German, I'll teach sermons and lose my lisp...

Listen, You're Great. I Really Like You.

2011-05-15T20:30:00.000-07:00

I just wish you were an entirely different person.

This is for all the Haters

2011-04-18T08:32:00.000-07:00

http://dadsaretheoriginalhipster.tumblr.com/

Indifferent Cities

2011-04-03T20:04:00.000-07:00

(Note: Emoticons can do real emotions no justice, but boys with guitars and vocal harmonies sure can)

Currently and perpetually listening to: Southern California, by Speechwriters, LLC

Sunlight hits a sign and I'm in Union Station
My arms are heavy in their sleeves
Everyone here thinks that I've been on vacation
But I don't ever seem to leave

And all that I can tell you is my love's unfocused
And drifting overseas
Head's all full of context better left unspoken
As scenes from old Pomona dreams come washing over me

No one wants to tell you just how long they've been here
The stars are crawling out their frames
The canvas on the ankle straps is wearing thin, dear
And I can't help but feel the same

When everything in town's been taken down for renovations
The hardest part is finding your way home
Freeway cuts the sky and I'm inside it's suppurations
But Southern California's got this way of creeping up on you

And all that I can tell you is my love's unfocused
And drifting overseas
Head's all full of context better left unspoken
As scenes from old Pomona dreams come washing over me

One last look around and then I'm always leaving
The stars are falling out of tune
Fingers bear the stains of shipping and receiving
These songs that carry me to you

But this is not some list of all the ways I should have loved you
Hold you in my arms and let you down
Turn my crooked smile up to the sky and I'm thinking of you
But Southern California's got me driving home in rental cars
And Southern California's got this way of tearing me and you apart

And you know it's true, California's tearing us apart
And I want it to

But all that I can tell you is my love's unfocused
And drifting overseas
Head's all full of context better left unspoken
As scenes from old Pomona dreams come washing over me...

Perspective and Other Things That Are Easy to Ignore

2011-03-11T14:38:00.000-08:00

Hi, March. Where the hell did you come from?

February sucked, basically. Anytime it's still winter outside sucks, basically.

One positive thing about it being too cold and snowy and inhumane to be outside is all the indoor people-watching you can do.
People-watching outdoors is truly a sport in itself, but indoor people-watching is an art. You can't be obvious and you can't pretend you're really watching something else outside, because you're not outside. So, it's an art. And the best people-watching people are in New York.

Another positive thing is all the subway time you have. Public transportation, like the army, is a great equalizer.
If you're on the subway, you're at the mercy of the subway and its schedule and its smells and its weird breezes.
You're also a prime candidate for people-watching.

An idea I had the other day that came to me while staring inconspicuously at a really skinny woman who just couldn't grasp how important the subway handrails were, was to film a shit load of marbles in an empty subway car on its usual route. It might be really boring to watch, or not that lame. And that's the point.

Another idea that came to me while fighting for grip-space on that aforementioned crucial handrail was to write a spoof of "Clarissa Explains It All" about a really JAPPY girl from Long Island or Bergen County who bitches a lot called, "Marissa Complains A Lot." I was generalizing by assuming that girl's name was Marissa. Aren't they all.

Promise I'll be in a better mood just as soon as the weather stops being such a bitch.

If I'm Grandiloquent, Then You're Fustian.

2011-01-27T21:01:00.000-08:00

I'm studying for the GRE, what's your excuse?

At the behest of my adoring public (read: Serena and Serena alone), I've decided to update myself.

1. I've had the same job for 6 consecutive months. Subsequently, I can't remember another 6 month period that made me want to cut a bitch more.

2. As a result, I've decided to go to grad school. With that, I've started studying for the GRE--hence the turgid word choice--and have realized a few things about my so-called blue ribbon public school education.

First of all, I don't even know what a "math" is. I've taken algebra for a collective 5 years (give or take). That's 1/5 of my entire life. Two of those years were in middle school where we focused on some real abstract shit that I'm only now realizing was actually math. The other years were in high school and again in college, because my SAT math scores were so laughably low that they had to make sure I could at least recognize a number if I saw one in the real world. I still have no idea what the quadratic equation is or why we suddenly switched from calling equations numeric sentences. This is as if, in the middle of dinner, someone just swoops in and takes your utensils and replaces them with scissors and glue. What the fuck is glue doing at the dinner table?

Contrarily, the verbal portion of the test is something I'm actually really looking forward to. Thanks to that same blue ribbon education, I really like words, and I really like reading and writing them. I distinctly remember D.E.A.R. time--Drop Everything And Read--when I was in elementary school. At some point every day, we'd all just read. It was amazing. We were mandated to escape into a story. So what if sometimes I re-read the same book for a month and a half. Point is, I was taught to love reading. And I do.

I wonder why I was never taught to love math/science in the same way. It's not because I don't care to love it - I do. I watched Star Trek growing up and wanted nothing more than to one day, be able to wear the same visor as Jordy (until my dad explained that Jordy wore that visor because he was blind and I saw his creepy all-white eyes - heartbreaking disappointment followed immediately thereafter). And now, as a 25 year-old, I watch The Big Bang Theory religiously and feel a real sense of embarrassing camaraderie with those geeky, math and science-inclined, weird little men.

I want to understand the world in logical, mathematical terms, but I don't. Instead, I'm pretty sure that anything with a square root is made up and if it takes more than a few tries to understand a word problem, I generally choose multiple choice answer B.

I read an article in the Wall Street Journal called, "Why Chinese Mothers are Superior" http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424052748704111504576059713528698754.html and while I kind of think that's a dick thing to assert, I have to say the author made some decent points.

Her whole thesis was that Western parents are so concerned with their kids' self esteem that they essentially enable them to squander their potential. I don't mean to say my parents did that - they didn't - but I think the reason I have the strengths I do is because I was encouraged to hone my abilities in those areas, whereas if I was struggling in an area - let's call that area "math" - I was sort of lumped into a class with other kids who were also not that strong and we were taught as though we weren't going to use it anyway. Sort of like a math-for-non-majors approach, but for the basics, when we all need to develop the same baseline skills, which is the issue. If we were taught the basics in a way that was applicable as "the basics" - and not just basics for more math, which always seemed very abstruse, but for LIFE - I really think I would have more confidence in my abilities.

I don't mean to blame "the system" here. I'm not even sure who I blame. But I dare say that if after 5 years of being taught the same shit over and over and over and over and over (count them, that's 5 over's) again, I still don't get it, that's some bullshit right there.

...

3. It's been a really snowy winter.

4. I think a long distance relationship should be the punishment for some crimes.

5. Obama wants us to win the future, which I understood to mean, wear as many pairs of sweatpants during the weekdays as possible. Thanks to all that snow and my long distance relationship, 2011 is off to a strong start.

More updates and [maybe but you know what, probably not] less bitching to follow.

Typing This Out Or Else I'll Fly Away

2010-12-06T21:02:00.000-08:00

Literally.

I don't know if it's this weather (27 degrees F, and snowy) or this month (December) or this age (25), or what, but I feel more like running away and joining the rest of the world right now than ever.

I had a great time last year, and I'm glad I went when I did.
I just also wish I could go now.

I'd probably do some things a little differently, like read up about some stuff and budget my time and money a little better.
Most of that is because I know myself better now.
Hindsight has perfect vision, as they say.
But some of that is also because I'm feeling more like I really need a trip now than I did then.

Again, it could just be this weather/time of year/life, but every time I'm in any sort of transportation vehicle, be it plane, train, or automobile, I feel a mix of trapped and rushed.

I miss aiports. I'd kill to get on line for security. I'd get there 5 hours early, even for a domestic flight. I'd walk around barefoot and empty my pockets a hundred times.

I keep having these dreams where I'm buckled into the middle seat on an 747, and I really need to pee, but I'm third in from the end and I can't seem to wake up the person in the aisle. So I try to make the flight go faster, because I need to pee so badly, and then, I wake up.

If I have that dream again tonight, I'm going to hold it and see where I end up.

First Of All

2010-12-06T20:52:00.000-08:00

On The Mirth of Subway Journeys and Going Into Debt

2010-11-19T16:24:00.000-08:00

Guess who's en route to somewhere on a bus along the east coast of a Westernized country in the middle of November?

It struck me two days ago--on the anniversary of my most free and most unaccountable and most experiential seven months (or so)--that perspective is actually what turns a routine journey into a "trip." I've been living in New York City for almost three months now and while I am in no way "used to it" yet, my time spent on subways has started to become negligible already.
To some people, that may not seem like a big deal.
But to me, that's depressing.
So, I've resigned myself to enjoying those "trips," short and expected though they may be.

Along the same lines, there's just too much to do in this city not to take advantage of it.
So, I've also resigned myself to spending (no more than) $50 a month to really live here.
Even if it's just going to a new place and ordering a new dish, there's just no sense in living here and staying in.

I'll save money later.

The Newest Colossus

2010-08-17T19:22:00.001-07:00

That's right, I live in The City.
And by The City I mean the same City from Sex and The City. Also You've Got Mail. And Coming to America.

I officially live in the Financial District of New York City, the same Financial District that houses Wall Street and the New York Stock Exchange. Maybe you've heard of them?
For all intents and purposes, I live in New Amsterdam--what used to be the center of the world. Before people took planes and trains and automobiles, they sailed into the seaports of Southern NYC with the hopes of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.

After seeing Lady Liberty in all her oxidized and rather zaftig glory (no disrespect), people from all over the place went through Ellis Island to become Americans.
Americans who could live freely and pursue happiness, as well as create things like The Clapper, the ChiaPet, and the Snuggie.

My apartment is too nice for me, but that's ok, so are most of my friends.
My commute is literally 40 minutes shorter now, which means I have no excuse to keep gaining weight and not exercise.

And best of all: I now have my very own FREEDOM.

For those who remember my NYC stint from last summer, you may recall my excitement over the prospect of eating ice cream for dinner in my underwear and being able to watch pornos with the door open.
Almost none of that ever happened, but still, options are beautiful, and I have them again!

More Importantly, Now Hear This

2010-08-09T18:55:00.000-07:00

Boys with Mutli-Stringed Instruments

2010-07-31T08:33:00.000-07:00

This is Water

2010-07-25T19:36:00.000-07:00

(Covering bases: I borrowed this from Clapton, who borrowed it from The Internet, which borrowed it from David Foster Wallace, himself)

'There are these two young fish swimming along, and they happen to meet an older fish swimming the other way, who nods at them and says, "Morning, boys, how's the water?" And the two young fish swim on for a bit, and then eventually one of them looks over at the other and goes, "What the hell is water?"

If you're worried that I plan to present myself here as the wise old fish explaining what water is, please don't be. I am not the wise old fish. The immediate point of the fish story is that the most obvious, ubiquitous, important realities are often the ones that are the hardest to see and talk about. Stated as an English sentence, of course, this is just a banal platitude - but the fact is that, in the day-to-day trenches of adult existence, banal platitudes can have life-or-death importance. That may sound like hyperbole, or abstract nonsense. So let's get concrete ...

In the day-to-day trenches of adult life, there is no such thing as atheism. There is no such thing as not worshipping. Everybody worships. The only choice we get is what to worship. And an outstanding reason for choosing some sort of god or spiritual-type thing to worship - be it JC or Allah, be it Yahweh or the Wiccan mother-goddess or the Four Noble Truths or some infrangible set of ethical principles - is that pretty much anything else you worship will eat you alive. If you worship money and things - if they are where you tap real meaning in life - then you will never have enough. Never feel you have enough. It's the truth. Worship your own body and beauty and sexual allure and you will always feel ugly, and when time and age start showing, you will die a million deaths before they finally plant you. On one level, we all know this stuff already - it's been codified as myths, proverbs, clichés, bromides, epigrams, parables: the skeleton of every great story. The trick is keeping the truth up front in daily consciousness. Worship power - you will feel weak and afraid, and you will need ever more power over others to keep the fear at bay. Worship your intellect, being seen as smart - you will end up feeling stupid, a fraud, always on the verge of being found out.

The insidious thing about these forms of worship is not that they're evil or sinful; it is that they are unconscious. They are default settings. They're the kind of worship you just gradually slip into, day after day, getting more and more selective about what you see and how you measure value without ever being fully aware that that's what you're doing. And the world will not discourage you from operating on your default settings, because the world of men and money and power hums along quite nicely on the fuel of fear and contempt and frustration and craving and the worship of self. Our own present culture has harnessed these forces in ways that have yielded extraordinary wealth and comfort and personal freedom. The freedom to be lords of our own tiny skull-sized kingdoms, alone at the centre of all creation. This kind of freedom has much to recommend it. But there are all different kinds of freedom, and the kind that is most precious you will not hear much talked about in the great outside world of winning and achieving and displaying. The really important kind of freedom involves attention, and awareness, and discipline, and effort, and being able truly to care about other people and to sacrifice for them, over and over, in myriad petty little unsexy ways, every day. That is real freedom. The alternative is unconsciousness, the default setting, the "rat race" - the constant gnawing sense of having had and lost some infinite thing.

The capital-T Truth is about life before death. It is about making it to 30, or maybe 50, without wanting to shoot yourself in the head. It is about simple awareness - awareness of what is so real and essential, so hidden in plain sight all around us, that we have to keep reminding ourselves, over and over: "This is water, this is water."'

-David Foster Wallace

Hi Ho, Hi Ho, It's Off to Work I Go

2010-07-18T20:00:00.000-07:00

It's true, I'm employed.

Pros of jobs:
-paychecks
-free tea
-free air conditioning for 7-9 hours a day
-free pens
-generally just a lot of free office supplies
-ability to challenge myself/grow professionally

Cons of jobs:
-taxes
-commuting
-air conditioning so cold it hurts
-commuting
-my tan is fading
-can't spend a week watching Scrubs marathons in pajamas

Living After Living the Dream

2010-07-09T16:11:00.000-07:00

Hello, faithful readers, ie: Serena and Aunt Marian and Uncle Barnett, and possibly up to five other people!

I've been back in the U S of A since June 4th.
It's nice to be back; it's weird to be back; things are so much bigger here.

Since my return, life has been uneventful to say the least.
I've seen some good old friends and met some good new ones, and that's always nice.
But I haven't gone on a beautiful hike through the wilds of New Zealand, or escaped the curiosity of an Australian Brown Snake in over 3 months, and that's terrible.

So the blog will continue as a means to continue highlighting the good stuff, and if nothing else, it's a good way to remember the other stuff.

So without further delay:

Upon my return, I slept for a week.
Then Serena and I had bagels at the Maven.
Then I went to Boston and surprised the pants off of my best friend in her favorite bookstore and we compared how tan I was and how incredibly cold this winter must have been in Boston.
We also watched the USA v. England game at a nice bar in Newton and were so boisterous that the other diners complained about us passive aggressively on a comment card.

Then it was mid-June and I decided it was really time to look for a job.
I spent a good amount of time looking on various websites and asking friends for leads and applying to everything that I was remotely qualified for, including one job requiring a master's degree in conversational Tagalog (oops).

Then I got a call from one of the jobs I applied to through the help and general hook up of a one Caite Burke, and scheduled an interview for that Friday.
That night I went to Serena's goodbye party. It was devastating, but so fun!
Then I went to Wendy's birthday party on Saturday night, which was both really fun and really culture shocking because I forgot how fancy some of New York seems to be/wants to be/actually really is.
That Sunday, I saw Grampa and my cousin Larry and we celebrated Grampa's 90th (!!!)

Then I saw Phish in Camden and realized that while I'm still a fan, some of those songs are just too damn long.
Maybe I've grown up, or maybe I've just outgrown it.
Maybe that's just two ways of saying the same thing?

Then I got a call from the job I interviewed for and I start work on July 19th.

[What recession?]

Aside from the job hunt and reunions with friends and family, I've been spending a lot of time in my room, going through a lot of my old stuff and getting rid of doubles of pictures of people and things I just don't need two of.

Being home feels weird; feels right; feels like summer without camp, which also feels weird and somehow right.

In short: wherever you go, there you are.

The Truth.

2010-07-05T10:31:00.000-07:00

I'm Not Jesus Christ But I Can Turn Water into Kool-Aid

2010-06-28T14:23:00.000-07:00

YESSS

2010-06-19T15:47:00.000-07:00

http://vanillaslice.wordpress.com/

"Perfection Incarnate:

Gazing upon your empty plate with satisfaction, a perfect vanilla slice should leave you basking in the glory of its wonder. Resting between two buttery pieces of puff pastry the custard should taste of fresh eggs and have a consistency that is not overly viscous nor jelly-like. And if included, the icing should be a firm vanilla that is not too hard. The resulting confection should neither be excessively sweet nor impossible to eat with either the hands or a cake fork. Sampling from Australian Bakeries, this is The Custard Crusaders' quest for perfection and the battle of the bulge."

An Open Letter to Women Whose Thighs Don't Touch

2010-06-19T15:41:00.001-07:00

Dear Women Whose Thighs Don't Touch,

I don't trust you for a goddman second.

Sincerely,

Baby's Got Back

You Were Not Supposed to be Back Until Sunday

2010-06-17T13:47:00.001-07:00

WEEKEND AT RUMI'S.
BY Seth Weitberg
- - - -

In the early morning hour,
just before dawn, the two lovers wake
and sip from the leftover Franzia box wine.

She asks, "Do you love me or yourself more?
Please, tell the absolute truth."

He says, "Me.
But only because I have no clue who you are."

- - -

I see you through the night in the gathering,
but cannot take you openly in my arms,

so I put my lips next to your cheek,
and hope your boyfriend doesn't notice.

- - -

My love wanders the rooms, stumbling,
bass beating, strewn clothes
high on some good weed she smoked
on the way back from under the porch.

We are three. The moon comes
speaking to us in our ecstasy,
watching us take ecstasy as we
lay around the bonfire.

One of us kneels, pressing the hard dirt.

One drinks, cool to the lips.

One watches the gathering,
and says to any stern onlookers,
Please hold my hair back,
I'm about to vomit everything.

- - -

Stay together, friends.
Don't scatter and sleep.

Our friendship is made of being awake.
The waterwheel accepts water
turns and gives it away,
like the pills it gave us, that will
make sleep impossible anyway.
Seriously, we need to stay together.

- - -

A man was crying into the night,
Allah! Allah!
His lips grew sweet with praising,
until a cynic said,
"He left like an hour ago."
The man had no answer to that.
He drifted down and fell into a confused sleep.

- - -

A story is like water that you heat for your bath.

It takes messages between the fire
and your skin. You drink it in quickly,
like everything else you have touched.

Very few can sit down in the middle of the fire itself
like a salamander or Abraham,
except for your friend Tricky Pete
who will do anything for $20.

A feeling of fullness comes,
in the back of a county ambulance.

- - -

You that love lovers,
This is your home. Welcome!
You were not supposed to be back until Sunday.

In the midst of making merriment,
love made merriment that soon melts merriment,
with Jäger for the door,
tequila the vestibule.

Watch the headlights pour
in through the windows,
as everyone scatters.

Their dance is our dance.

We do not hear the inward music,
because the outward music sings from an iPod,

directed by the one who teaches us,
someone's brother, who no one really knows,
our music master.

- - -

I am morning dew
and evening wind.

I am the bits of dust in the light.
I am the tree and its deep roots.

Do you seriously still not
remember who I am?

Who's Gonna Buy Your Whistles?

2010-06-15T20:09:00.000-07:00

Ben Gurion Airport, you're so delightful

2010-06-03T12:47:00.000-07:00

Mostly I'm just really excited about all this free and totally legit wifi at my fingertips, so this blogpost is essentially without a purpose.

And in case anyone's reading the news or watching TV and is concerned for my safety, don't be ridiculous.
Israel is safer than anywhere else in the world---excluding Disney World.

See you all SO SOON!

This Has All Been Wonderful

2010-05-23T07:40:00.000-07:00

But now I'm on my way.

In short: It's been a very interesting month and a half and while I intended to spend another month here, the kibbutz and I are breaking it off.
We both benefitted from the relationship, but it's reached its end.
No hard feelings.
No awkward glances.
I know what's mine and I'm happily packing it up and heading out.
The Seinfeld exit, if you will: leaving on a high note, somewhat unexpectedly and before the craziest of all the characters shows their true colors (by which I mean, Cosmo Kramer is a racist)

So, come June 1st, I will board an Egged bus (most probably stuffed with adorable and mature-looking Israeli 18 to 21 year-olds named Itai and/or Liron) due north for Tel Aviv.
I'm dealing with a salad of mixed emotions because I've made some really amazing friends and have had some really great times here.
But, when you know, you know.
And I know.
It's time.
I'll be heading home sometime before June 10th (13 days early, give or take) and I can genuinely say: I'm ready.
Just like ripe fruit only spoils if you don't eat it on time, I'm ready to go and delaying it any further would only cause fruit flies and mold.

In theory, this trip had a very specific purpose:
To Figure Shit Out.

At the same time, I had no fucking idea what I was doing, a lot of the time.
Literally, there were days when I'd just doodle for 2 hours or walk to a beach and stack sea shells until I got hungry.
Not that those days weren't terrific.
Of course they were terrific.
But they helped me realize that I prefer a little structure.
As uncool as it may sound, I like having a job.
I like knowing what's expected of me (it makes not doing what's expected of me that much more satisfying) and I like feeling productive, constructive, and useful.
I also really, really like Home.
I like You.
And sometimes, you need to go really far away to learn how much you like being really close.

(Cue the John Williams musical montage)

5 Weeks To Go, I'm Absolutely Counting

2010-05-16T07:38:00.001-07:00

First things first, congratulations to a one miss Bridey Aliza Maidhof who will soon be Mrs. McKay Stangler on her recent engagement...to McKay Stangler...which has become profusely clear in the course of this sentence.
Wooooohoooo!

Second things second, I come home in just over a month!!!
I am thrilled.
I'm ready to go and trying to remind myself to linger on the here and now at the same time...
Because it'll be gone so soon.
But 5 weeks seems like a very long time.
Especially when you've been gone since November and it's May 16th.

As for updates: I went to Eilat with my friend Sara from Canada and we had a good time not being on the kibbutz.
We met a lot of interesting men who offered us things ranging from drugs to the ability to Google at their house.
All in all, it was a lot of fun.

So now I'm generally doing what you do on a kibbutz in the desert...relaxing in air conditioning/missing the conveniences of home, such as: doorknobs.

Ponder This

2010-05-11T08:03:00.000-07:00

"I love you sons of bitches. You’re all I read any more. You're the only ones who’ll talk all about the really terrific changes going on, the only ones crazy enough to know that life is a space voyage, and not a short one, either, but one that’ll last for billions of years. You’re the only ones with guts enough to really care about the future, who really notice what machines do to us, what wars do to us, what cities do to us, what big, simple ideas do to us, what tremendous misunderstanding, mistakes, accidents, catastrophes do to us. You're the only ones zany enough to agonize over time and distance without limit, over mysteries that will never die, over the fact that we are right now determining whether the space voyage for the next billion years or so is going to be Heaven or Hell."

-Kurt Vonnegut

Yesh Kipod B'cheder

2010-05-08T00:15:00.000-07:00

(There is a hedgehog in the room)

It's been nearly a month since I've been at the kibbutz and oh, what an interesting nearly a month it's been.
For one, I've made some really good friends as well as more than a few really strange acquaintances.
For two, I no longer work in the hotel because although I was apparently perfect for the job, I also hated the living daylights out of the job.
So after a pretty succinct and terse conversation about my options with one of the most useless human beings I've ever met (not an exaggeration; I have references and am happy to expand upon that assertion if anyone wants to hear me whine), I was moved.

First it was to the kitchen with all of Latin America, which was an absolute ball.
I got to use my Spanish and listen to Israeli radio and watch all the Chileans and Argentinians dance whenever this one commercial for some alarm company came on.
Also I know where they keep the Nutella supplies now.

But alas, they needed another person in the noy instead ("noy" is Hebrew for beautiful or something; essentially it's landscaping work) and so to the noy I went.

Most of what I do is rake and prune and lift heavy things and eat like a 16 year old boy.
We've laid down sod for a new lawn; I'm excellent at pruning, weeding and sweeping dirt back into its designated pit; and I am also the new sprinkler and irrigation specialist.
Impressive, no?

In addition to being in charge* of all of the water, I'm also the only girl I work with.
My bosses and coworkers all comment daily on my incredible ability to amass large amounts of burekas and hummus on my plate and consume them like a lady, as well as how strong I am:

I can now lift almost 2 kilos of ice cream in one hand, while telling other people what else they can bring me.

And even though we wake up around 5:00am for work at 5:15am because it's already too hot to work after lunch, and even though it's only going to get hotter, and sometimes the rest of my coworkers just call me PMS when I whine about how heavy the tree trunks are that we have to pick up...I like the work.

I joke.
(I have always been able to lift that much ice cream in one hand, and they call me PMS no matter what I whine about)
I'm really enjoying the physical work and the guys I work with are awesome.
And attractive.
Also I'm tanner than I've ever been.

Win-win-win-win-win.

*I'm not in charge of anything, but I do know the computer code that sets off the sprinklers and have been having fun pissing off all the feral cats who sleep by our house by turning the water on sporadically.
Also, we're in the fucking desert and this place is so well developed that not only is there a sprinkler system set up to irrigate the plants and date trees (one of the kibbutz's main sources of income), they even have gardens with flowers and trees for aesthetic purposes! This blows my mind on the regular.

This whole experience has been really interesting, both socially and spiritually.
In a lot of ways, I'm at camp.
Almost everyone's Jewish, they have French toast for breakfast a lot, I share clothing with everyone I know, we have Shabbat as a community, the pool and the cheder ochel (dining room) are the central meeting places, and everyone uses golf carts to get around.
At the same time, there are no counselors and very little actual structure (except for meals which are the only real scheduled activities), so it's sort of a mix between camp and college.

And of course, whenever you put people together for an extended period of time, the middle schoolers in all of us come out to play.
I've never been that good at keeping up with the drama, but luckily there was a free beer night a few weeks ago which allowed me to participate in the general balagan (Hebrew for shit show) of the kibbutz.
Nothing too incredible happened, but I can now safely and confidently say that I am able to get free shots of liquor in every country I've visited on this trip.
Also I have been shot down not once but apparently four times in one night by the same guy.
Count it!

On that note, it's time to go to the pool; 43 degrees Celcius is almost warm enough to BBQ your spleen.

Mom, Stop Worrying

2010-04-21T21:30:00.000-07:00

Everything's fine, I just hardly have a chance to use a real computer.
Quick update: people are all much happier, I still clean hotel rooms, my skin is the color of rich mahogany.
More to come.

2 Days In and I'm Already Constipated

2010-04-13T07:21:00.000-07:00

Shalom from the Arava Valley, more specifically Kibbutz Ketura.
For those of you, like me, who still don't know where I am, I suggest looking at a map of the middle east.
First, find Israel.
Then find Jordan.
Then find the border between the two, and I'm essentially RIGHT THERE.
When I had my introduction walk-around-the-kibbutz, the volunteer coordinator told me I could jog to the border if I wanted, but only before sunset, as the army uses heat and motion sensors at the border which would be DANGEROUS.
(And thus I'm never going jogging)

I got here on Sunday, which was Erev Yom HaShoa (Holocaust rememberance day).
Additionally, Sunday was also the day that most of the garin* who were staying and volunteering here got kicked off because of suspected drug abuse.
The garin was apparently dating or BFF with half the non-garin volunteers, which means everyone I've met is either sad, leaving, or threatening to leave.
(*Garin = first year soldiers who go through a bonding experience like working on a kibbutz before boot camp, I think. Most are 18 or so and generally goofy and proud; Israeli)

So, as seems to be the trend during much of these past several months, I picked a bad moment to arrive.
I got here around 4pm and had to sit through a meeting about drugs at 5.
Then there was the Shoa event, which was entirely in Hebrew except for all the graphic Auschwitz and Treblinka photographs.
Needless to say, it's been heavy around here.

Everyone I've met is nice, though PISSED OFF.
That's not all true, but it's not that far from it.
Almost all of my new friends are from South America and came here through a program called Noam which sounds sort of like NFTY but in Spanish.
Most of the kids are 18-20 at most, with a few 21 year-olds for good measure.
There are also a few other people from NY/NJ and other places, though they're also mostly younger than me.
So mostly I've been speaking terrible Spanish and trying not to offend people with my horrendous Hebrew.
I've taught the group what a badonkadonk is; they've taught me that I don't really speak Spanish anymore.

This kibbutz wears a few different hats, if you will, so there are many different jobs to do.
I work in the hotel, cleaning rooms.
I would much rather not be cleaning rooms, just because I kind of already did that in Byron Bay, but whatever.
As I mentioned before, it's a very weird and high-stress time so I'm going to try and stir the pot as little as possible.

And now it's time for dinner.

...more to come.

Going Back Back, To Eilat Eilat

2010-04-07T06:21:00.000-07:00

Guess who got her kibbutz placement?

http://ketura.org.il/index.html

(yes this is the kibbutz that Sarah Silverman's sister lives on; no I will not become famous for spending 3 months milking cows at 4am, I've already asked)

I'm going on Sunday and I'll be there until July, as it turns out.

EXCITED EXCITED EXCITED!

Unrelatedly, I worked as a translator for a nice Ecuadorian girl today at the kibbutz placement office.
(When I say "worked" I mean I spent 2 hours interpreting her and getting paid in butter cookies)
I just hope my experience isn't as traumatic as hers was, and from what I gather, hers was, indeed.

"El piso...el piso fue cubierto en la mierda! Y yo no podría encontrar un tenedor dondequiera."

Sesame Street Soul

2010-04-05T08:36:00.001-07:00

http://www.waxpoetics.com/features/articles/sesame-street-soul/2

Prayers That Don't Eat Up All Your Time

2010-04-04T06:12:00.000-07:00

"There was a Jesuit priest I knew once and somebody asked him, ‘What’s the shortest prayer in the world?’
And he said, ‘Fuck it’. That’s great, isn’t it?" -Anthony Hopkins

Herzilya, aka The Field of Wills nee Dreams

2010-04-02T05:57:00.000-07:00

Chag sameach to those of you who are still eating matzah and happy Easter to those of you who haven't been eating meat on Fridays.
And if you're celebrating another holiday and you can't eat something too, I wish you all the best as well.
I never realized what a rough season Spring is for bread and livestock.

Writing to you from the couch of a one Julia Chazkel, who now lives in Herzilya (a town north of Tel Aviv) and who is currently in Italy with her dad, probably so full of pasta she can't even communicate, and she's letting me crash in her apartment until she gets back next Wednesday night. Incredible. But more on that later.

For those of you wondering how I spent my Pesach and where I went for seder, the answer is: Jerusalem but mostly, Randy Pressman.
Randy Pressman is a man who belongs in his own category of Great, and he's been awesome about letting me trail his every move since I got here.
First, I got to see Les Claypool with him in Tel Aviv---which was STUPID GOOD.
Then, after I asked if I could join in on whatever he was doing for Passover, he brought me to his friend's apartment in East Jerusalem (obviously we were in the Jewy part therein) and I got to make the turkey.
Literally, this year in Jerusalem.
What more could I ask for?
The seder was held at Randy's friend Ari's place and though Ari bought a 15 pound bird, there were only 5 of us there to eat it, as well as the other seven side dishes (not exaggerating---one of the other attendees used to be a sous chef).
Ari and company were excellent---funny and smart rabbis-in-training who were so warm and welcoming, I almost didn't mind all the matzah I had to eat.
We had a very nice, very casual seder and while I usually don't really love that oh-so-long To Do list that is the seder, I surprised myself with how much I enjoyed being around people who knew the same tunes and songs that I do, and mixing and matching the other traditions we brought to the table.
If I haven't made myself clear, it was a really wonderful experience.

Every time I come to Israel, I run into someone I knew/know/have met once or twice.
It's true what they say, wherever you go, there's always someone Jewish.
Sometimes they're from camp, sometimes they're from college, and it's always really nice to see them.
But this trip to Israel is the first time I have friends who are actually living here--friends who I can't make plans with to see when I get back home--so seeing them here makes being here feel like I'm not just wandering through.
I can't tell you just how necessary it was for me to meet up with some of these people, especially because I was beginning to feel more than just a little ready to get the hell home.
As Julia put it while Katowitz, Randy and I dove into the matzah brei we made, "it feels like home came to Israel!"
Yes, that's very cheesey, but it's also very precious, because it's true and I love them.

I'm still waiting to hear back about the kibbutz placement and since Passover's still going strong, I'm going to be waiting until beer and bread are again kosher. I'll keep everyone posted.

Love and matzah cookies!

One Time For Your Mind

2010-03-31T05:11:00.000-07:00

Recent statements/questions/what have you's that need to be published somewhere:

(These will all be made into Them Vs. Me format)

Them: "Passover's like, a big deal for the Israelis, huh?"
Me: "Yes. Yes it is. Also for Jews everywhere."
T: "Every year, or just this year?"
M: "Every year."
T: "So what do you do for it? You eat the matzah-bread stuff, right?"
M: "Yeah. The matzah stuff. It's not bread, though. It's instead of bread."
T: "Sooo what, does it like, go on the bread? Or like, under the bread?"

T: "Israel is closed now? For big holiday?"
M: "Yes, many things are closed for Passover."
T: "And how long will Israel be closed? Will Israel be closed forever?"

T: "What does Passover have to do with Easter?"
T: "Nothing, it's for Jews."
M: "Jesus's last supper was a Passover seder."
T: "Um...are you sure? Because he was Christian I thought..."

Not all who wander may be lost, but not all who are lost should wander, maybe.

Manyanim?

2010-03-28T03:13:00.001-07:00

Writing to you from Florentine in Tel Aviv, where I've been staying for the past two nights.*

*Actually now I'm on Ben Yehuda in Tel Aviv, I changed hostels because Florentine, though cool, is really fucking far away from shit I like.

So far I've seen Les Claypool and Randy Pressman, crashed a roof party and eaten more falafel and baklava than I ever expected to.
I also bought more earrings from my favorite jewelry vendor in the market on Nachalat Binyamin, and went to Shuk Ha'Carmel to eat all that baklava, which was, in hindsight maybe not the best of ideas.
Also I bought new naots and met a nice couple from Buenos Aires who humored me and let me try to communicate with them.
The only negative I have to mention is the weather.
It's been raining for the past two days and that is more or less bullshit.
Otherwise, I'm enjoying myself.

Best nugget of international English to date:
When reporting about some drunk Frenchman who came in late last night and how he couldn't find the right room, one of the Swedes told us:

"I told him where his bed was but he was just going around grabbing other people's privates."

(Privates = private double rooms)

I've been feeling pretty ready to pack it in, just because 4 months is a long time and as I mentioned, I think I've essentially gotten what I wanted out of my travels. I'm also still waiting for a definitive kibbutz placement and have heard more than a few atrocious reviews of the kibbutz program.
So...we'll see how much longer I stay away.

On that note, chag sameach v'l'hitraot.

This Year In [Ben Gurion Airport]

2010-03-23T04:13:00.000-07:00

And now it's onto Israel.
I'll be flying into Tel Aviv tomorrow and hopefully placed on a kibbutz sometime within the next week where I'll spend the next two and a half to three months.
Where I'll be, I don't know.
What I'll be doing, I don't know.
But I'll definitely be somewhere in the [broken] promised land.
(Credit goes to Max Bemis, Google him)

This last leg of the trip is one I'm really looking forward to, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't also looking forward to it because it is the last leg.
In some ways, I already feel very done.
I guess I could use the word accomplished, but it's more done than anything.
Done in the way a turkey is done: it's cooked through. It's not burned and it's not raw.
It's done.
I won't say I'm finished, because what the hell is finished?
Who's ever finished?
But I think I am done, or nearly done, and I'm eager to have some time in one place to collect myself.

Relatedly, I've been reflecting on the last 4 months of my trip lately and it just dawned on me just how much I've done;
I've done so much.
I've seen so much.
I've learned so much.

I think a big reason for that has been that I've listened, watched and generally experienced a lot more than I've spoken, which is a new thing for me.
It's amazing how much you can do/see/learn, and how many different types of people you can meet, when you're not running your mouth.
Not that I'm done running my mouth. Gimme a break.
But the fact is, sometimes, being a participant observer puts you in the best spot to experience what's there to experience.
Way to go, Bronislaw Malinowski!

Things I've learned:
-how to speak international English/how to curse in German and Swedish/how to incorporate the non-English speakers in a conversation so that no one feels left out
-how to gracefully bow out of the awkward conversation that results from incorporating non-English speakers after you've exhausted all of the German and Swedish curse words you know
-how to subsist on pasta, rice, white bread, carrots and peanut butter for 28 days straight
-how to pack a wet towel so that it does not mildew
-how to shower (including washing your dreadlocked Jewfro and shaving your legs) in cold water that drips from a hole in the wall that comes to your elbow at its highest point, for a week
-how to not get offended when people repeatedly tell you, "but you're so...you don't even look Jewish! I mean it!"
-how to [appropriately] offend overzealous English blokes when they fancy you a bit too much
-how not to absolutely lose it when you overhear your roommates discussing which of their stripper names (because they're all apparently strippers) are "too trashy" and which names are "too classy"

Things I've lost:
-super nice leather bound journal
-sleeping bag
-raincoat
-favorite Israeli flag Havaianas and 6 year-old naots
-shitty iPod headphones
-any sense of modesty when changing in 24-bed co-ed dorms
-countless loofas and toothbrushes
-maybe 5 pounds
-ability to metabolize tequila

Things I've gained:
-cheap cardboard-backed journal
-new sleeping bag
-new raincoat
-$3 flip flops with neon palm trees all over them
-new really nice headphones due to Tom's sweet Sennheiser warehouse job
-sensibility as to when it's appropriate to change in a 24-bed co-ed dorm
-countless loofas and toothbrushes
-at least 5 pounds
-ability to get free shots of gin*

*whether this only applies in the southern hemisphere remains to be seen

So, I'm back in Sydney for all of 48 hours.
Then I board my flight to Tel Aviv by way of Hong Kong then Istanbul.
Guess who's excited about spending the next two days in international airports!

Auckland, AKA The Land of Auck

2010-03-18T00:58:00.000-07:00

Believe it or not, the end of March is nigh.
This nigh-ness gives me all kinds of mixed feelings, which is to be expected.
After all, I've fallen in love with New Zealand.
And since neither of us want to do long distance, one of us will have to leave.
I have a strong feeling it's going to be me...but what do I know? I'm terrible at relationships. LOL?

So, I'm spending my last few days in Auckland, which is the largest city in New Zealand with a whopping 1.2 million people, or 1/4 of the entire population of the country.
Everyone forewarned me about how sucky Auckland was as a city, but I think everyone needs to lay off the haterade because so far, I have no problem with it.
Sure, it's not earth-shatteringly amazing, like New York, but let's be fair.
There's only one New York. And it's in New York.

As you may recall from my last post, I was on my way to hike the Tongariro Crossing from Taupo.
Bad news: I didn't make it.
Due to a mix of very cold, rainy weather with 70-80 km/hour winds and general idiocracy on the part of my tour bus operators, I spent the day and night in a pretty sweet hostel at the foothills of the mountains, so things weren't a complete wash.
In order to get back to Taupo in time to catch my bus to Auckland, I had to hitch a ride and woke up at 4:15am to do so.
But, the woman who drove me was awesome and brought both her dog and cat along for the ride so all the stress and frustration caused by the bus company was absolved.

Let the record show: [domesticated] animals fix [all of] my problems.

So now I'm in Auckland until the 22nd, when I fly to Sydney and say hi to Justin and Amanda for a day until I hop a plane to Israel.
So far, I've done a lot of walking around and have been reintroduced to many of my previously dormant leg muscles because Auckland is one hilly sonofabitch.

Last night was St. Paddy's Day and since I woke up so early that morning, I only had it in me to put on a green shirt and drink 2 green beers before I headed to bed by midnight.
But I did meet a Californian who asked me to dance to the only Garth Brooks song the bar would play, and when I said no because I wasn't so into this song/rodeos/Sarah Palin, he told me to wait a second, spoke to the DJ, and the next song that came on was something by Nickelback.
He looked at me as if this was an improvement; I told him I needed to use the facilities, so I left the bar, went to another and used their restroom.

Then I went to sleep while the rest of the city drank and swayed in a collective embrace of Irish cultural stereotypes.

On that note, I'm headed to bed again.
It's been a pretty busy month.

Volcanic Activity/Everything Smells Like Beer Farts

2010-03-14T21:20:00.000-07:00

I'm now in Taupo, which is a beautiful town that sits on Lake Taupo, the largest lake in all of NZ.
Before that, I was in Rotorua which is the most geothermally active place in the world, I think.
What that means is that in addition to being really cool and having these bubbling, boiling mud pools all over, it also smells like eggs and beer farts everywhere because there's so much sulphur in the air.
(Family---it smells like the entire town is engulfed in a cloud of Jane farts.)

Tomorrow I set off for the Tongariro Crossing http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tongariro_Alpine_Crossing, and I'm pumped.
Then I go back to Auckland for a few days and then back to Sydney for a second until Tel Aviv/the general land of Israel for 3 months.

Excited excited excited!

"My Nutrition Levels Have Disappeared."

2010-03-13T19:18:00.000-08:00

Just re-read some of my old posts and I can't believe I haven't discussed the food I've eaten at length. What the hell.

In addition to all the jumping off of and out of things that NZ has been, this has also been a really delicious epicurean trip.

First of all, the meat (beef, lamb, pork, chicken, goat, ostrich, lama, venison...and kangaroo for Australia's sake) is legitimately free range and hormone free, because when your entire country only has like 25 people (give or take 4 million) living in it, you don't need to produce the ridiculous quantities that places like the USA does.
So, meat just tastes better because in my head, the animals are living happier lives.
With accents.

The fruit and vegetable selection isn't so different from home, except some things are cheaper because they're local, such as avocado, mango, kiwi, and apples. The apples here vary like crazy but for the most part, the Sundowners and Cox's Orange Pippin are my favorites. (If you were unaware, I have a thing for apples.)

There's a lot of trans-Asian cuisine so lamb/chicken/beef satay is big. I like that.
Also, sushi is big. And cheap. Because the fish is caught 20 feet away sometimes. And the sushi comes in these long rolls that are more reminiscent of an open-ended egg roll than the circle things I've had back in the States. I like that, too.

And, for the most part, the breads are just excellent. Not the sandwich shit you have to buy at the cheapo Pak N' Save because you can't afford the other cheap shit at the more elite supermarkets, but the breads you buy at bakeries, of which there are many. Bakeries are everywhere, and people use them. Daily-baked fresh bread is as easy to find here as unclear-as-to-when-this-was-actually-made-Chinese-food is in delis in NYC.

The sandwiches are typically ham-based. Ham and cheese and tomato, ham and cheese and pineapple, ham and cheese and cheese and ham. They also use a lot of avocados and chicken and tomato, which I think is a great idea. Eggs and ham and cheese and tomato, also common.

The meat pie is a big thing here, an obvious leftover from the Brits and the Irish and the like. I have to be honest, meat pie makes me dry heave. I've tried all kinds of combinations---steak and mushroom, mince meat, potato and meat, cheese and meat, whathaveyou---and they're all too salty and generally just too much for me. But if you're poor (I am) and you need sustenance (I do) and you have $3.50 most of the time (I hope), then meat pies are a pretty frequent meal.

The pizza here is generally a travesty, and any sort of "red sauce" dish is just unacceptable.
I miss Villa Maria's.

The side dishes are usually pretty potato-based; fries are called chips and chips are called crisps. They're all pretty good. Wedges are by far the favorite child of all potato sides. But let the record show that Fuel and Fuddle still holds the no. 1 spot for most incredible sweet potato fries.

Also---the sauces are worth mentioning. The sweet chili sauce is incredible. Ketchup, or "tomato sauce," is not. There's no mustard to speak of, which, in my opinion, is disgusting.

As for desserts, they know what the hell they're doing.

The ice cream is creamier---by which I mean, low fat and sugar free and diet-friendly ice cream is much harder to find. Which is good, because ice cream is not diet-friendly. If you're dieting, don't eat ice cream. That's a diet.

But they make this real fruit ice cream that has quickly become my favorite way to spend $5.00: it's either plain vanilla or plain chocolate ice cream with frozen fresh fruit---blueberries, strawberries, raspberries, boysenberries, blackberries, peaches, mangos, etc---blended in. Incredible. And if you want, you can mix them all in at once. Don't though, it's only going to let you down.

Moving on to other desserts, I should mention the Pavlova. I thought this was an Australian thing since Justin made it, but apparently it's originally a Kiwi delicacy. Basically it's just egg whites and sugar and cream and fruit, and I can't explain it in any other terms besides: diabetic.

I've saved the best for last, by which I mean: Vanilla Slice.

Slices are the general southern hemispherical term for what we northerners might call bars or brownies, and they're all Really Fucking Good. The Vanilla Slice, however, is in a league of it's own. It looks really plain and sort of boring, but it's not. It's not, whatsoever. On the bottom, it's got a sort of pie crust/pastry dough/cookie consistency that's really buttery and almost salty and flakey enough but not too flakey. Then it's got this vanilla pudding kind of thing but it's a bit firmer, almost a mix of pudding and batter. Then there's another layer of the pie crust/phyllo dough, then another layer of pudding. And then, it's topped with this incredible vanilla frosting that almost defies description: it's firm but gooey, sort of like carrot cake frosting mixed with whipped cream. Or something. If anyone knows where this can be procured in the USA, please let me know. It's the one reason I sometimes look at the real estate postings in the information centers in little out of the way towns we stop at to use the public toilets.

Unrelated to food, I recently went Zorbing (Google it) and caving and saw glow worms and taught our 19 year-old tour guides the correct chorus to "Juicy" by Biggie Smalls.
I also got to eat a traditional Maori dinner (which was pretty much picnic foods...?) and learned a little about their culture, which, like the aboriginal people of Australia, has been wiped out and then restored poorly, by white people. Go white people, go.

Unrelated to any of that, I also just got into a fight with a douchey gap year-aged Welsh kid named Paul who, after I told him I was from the USA, asked me if I knew where Wales was with a very smug look on his face, and when I said, "yeah, do you know where the States are?" told me, "Yeah, it's that country with all those [n-words], right?" Way to go, Welsh kid.

Your Heritage is Peace

2010-03-07T20:06:00.000-08:00

I'm in Kaikoura again after 4 glorious days in Queenstown.
I do not hesitate or exaggerate when I say Queenstown is the coolest place I have ever and might ever see in real life.

It was everything everyone said it would be plus a really pretty rose garden no one told me about.
I spent the first night catching up on some relaxation and much needed re-packing of my bag. EXCITING.
The days were spent wandering around the city and various gardens and coastal walking tracks.
And it's a good thing I was so "active" because Queenstown is famous for one of the best foods ever created: the Fergburger.
The Fergburger almost defies description. Which is why I'm glad they have a website: http://www.fergburger.com/fullscreen.html
It's almost like a Fathead's sammich, except that Fathead's has a larger array to choose from and part of the Ferg-appeal is the size, which is massive.
Clearly, if I'm spending time recounting the experience here, it was deadly.

My last day was spent cruising through Milford Sound, which was a gorgeous way to see such a place.
My pictures will be up soon so you can all agree about how gorgeous it is.

My last night was spent visiting many of the 300 bars and clubs the city has to offer, and I learned the secret to getting free shots of gin from bartenders.
Part of the secret is knowing who Sid the Kid is.
There are more parts of the secret but like I said, I got free shots of gin, so they will remain a secret. To me, especially.

Needless to say, I got to experience both the natural beauty and night life Queenstown has on offer, and it rules.

Unrelatedly, I saw this sign in front of the Kaikoura Memorial Centre that said, "Your heritage is peace" (translated from a Maori saying) and it made me stop and think.
Very rarely do I think of my heritage in a way that doesn't involve civil unrest or war or immigration [due to war] or something along those lines. Not because my family is super contentious, but because the history I've been taught always focused on who was in charge of whom and when.
I guess there is a difference between history and heritage semantically speaking, but if you're taught to be proud of being peaceful, maybe your history wouldn't be so full of facts about wars?

And The Sweet Assity Continues

2010-03-02T22:03:00.000-08:00

Hello, my adoring public.

So many things have happened since I started my New Zealand trip, I had to look through my pictures to remember everything...

I started in Christchurch, which was terrific. I really enjoyed that city and the people I met there were great. I also found the kosher bagel place.

Then I went to Kaikoura and started my Stray bus trip, which lets me jump on and off wherever/whenever I want to. Kaikoura was GORGEOUS, sort of similar to Byron Bay in Australia but much, much smaller and with much, much fewer batshit insane people. Although, I did run into Camilla (the crazy ass receptionist ho from Byron who ruined my time there) and I pretended not to see her. At first I stared to make sure it was her, then decided it was her, then feigned a fascination with the community notice board advertising bait and tackle.

Then from Kaikoura I went to Picton and headed down to Abel Tasman to hike a gorgeous and lengthy 28 km coastal walk. It took about 7 hours and it was absolutely beautiful.
I also met a group of Washington Staters who were great (my second group of Washington Staters thus far---they're such a nice breed!) and we went to the one bar in Abel Tasman and partook of the open mic night they had going on.
I don't know how to explain what I saw/heard/generally experienced unless I used the words heady, vegan, and patchouli and also wookie.
There was a marionette performance and a woman who sang Czech songs and a band that covered the theme song to "Fresh Prince of Bel Air" for about 25 minutes and also a song that goes, "I don't like cricket---I LOVE IT."

Then onto Punakaiki to see some pancake rocks, which was cool but not that cool, and then we went to Barrytown. Barrytown, like many of the towns along the west coast of the south island, used to be a big town with a lot of gold rushers but since the rush has died down, so has the population growth. In fact, Barrytown is now home to a whopping 42 people. So, we had a nice dinner and drank a lot of BazVegas homebrew beer and dressed up in ridiculous costumes and had a party. Theme: I Can't Believe You Came To My Party Dressed Like That. I wore a leotard and spandex pants and old-school Adidas sneakers and called myself Jane Fonda. People went with it. I taught people how to do the Running Man (Banin, you would have been PROUD). It was an absolute BALL.

Then we went to Franz Joseph Glacier where we were going to go on a full day glacier hike, but it was rained out and got canceled. I was really disappointed, since I was about to walk on a glacier, but we still had a nice time watching the USA lose to Canada in hockey. I represented the USA very well and reminded everyone I saw without being asked which country in North America was also called Just America. We drank that night away and had a general great time.

Then we drove to Makarora which was ehh. But! Early that morning, I JUMPED OUT OF A PLANE. I decided to do it a while ago and spoke to an Alaskan who told me that Fox Glacier was the most beautiful place to jump, so I went on his advice and he was right. Let the record show that he might be the only Alaskan worth listening to (THAT'S A PALIN DIG, DAD. READ IT AND WEEP). The jump was a lot more peaceful than I expected it to be, and I got to see the earth in a way I've never experienced before. New Zealand is a goddamn beautiful place, and after having jumped out of a plane and seeing it so personally, I feel so fortunate that I was able to come out here and experience the nature it has to offer. I jumped through a cloud into a circular rainbow which my Brazilian guide explained in broken English "happens not much often" and that was amazing. I also got to see Fox Glacier, Mount Cook and Mount Tasman, so technically, I saw a glacier up close and personal. Makarora was a bit of a let down after all that. It's a pretty place but felt kind of stupid to stay there when we could've gone straight through to Queenstown or Wanaka in an hour's time. We had a karaoke night and I sang a lot of Neil Diamond. Basically it was good.

Then I decided to take a day off from the crazy and spent a night in Wanaka which was BEAUTIFUL. It has so far been my absolute favorite part of the trip (scenery-wise) because it's just breathtaking. The pictures I took don't do it justice but trust me when I say it made me want to recycle so our future generations might have the chance to see such a place.

And today I JUMPED OFF OF A BRIDGE. I can't explain how incredible it was to just free fall off of a perfectly stable structure into nothingness and then water, but I'll try. Imagine learning that you have wings and that you can only use them for the next 30 minutes. Obviously, you're going to want to use those wings, especially because you know you won't be able to use them later (wings = balls, or guts) so you have a choice: fly or be lame. So, I flew and it was BRILLIANT. Very easily the most incredible experience I've ever had. The adrenaline rush was great and my video and pictures are pretty hilarious. I screamed a lot of obscenities and the watching public had to cover their children's ears. I spent the first half of the jump just screaming "FFFFUUUUUCCCCKKKKKKKKKKKK" and then once I hit the water and came back up I [apparently though I don't recall doing so] ordered everyone to "SHUT THE FUCK UP! SHUT THE FUCK UP!" and when one of the staffers asked one of the others if I was ok, they replied with, "Yeah, I think she's just from New Jersey." And they all said, "oh."

Now I'm in Queenstown. It's beautiful and cool and though I've never been to Colorado, probably it's like some parts there? I really like being so close to the mountains and the terrain here is like nothing I've ever actually seen in the real. I've learned that I much prefer a good walk through the woods to a day at the beach (maybe a walk through the woods to the beach?) and am seriously considering becoming very rich so as to afford a vacation home somewhere here. It's just that incredible. I sort of regret spending so much time in Australia and not spending 2 months there and 2 months here, but, c'est la vie. Live and learn. Po-tay-to, po-tah-to. Just gives me a reason to come back and do what I haven't had time for or couldn't afford. Could be worse.

Sending love from all the way across the world!

NEW ZEALAND!

2010-02-28T01:13:00.000-08:00

I'm on a glacier, it's March already, everything looks surreal and this country has officially become The Most Beautiful Country I've Ever Seen.

More when I'm not so busy doing SWEET ASS SHIT.

New Zealand? More Like Best Zealand

2010-02-19T13:06:00.000-08:00

Hiya from Christchurch, quite possibly the youngest, drunkest city in the whole world!
Possibly not, too.
Regardless, IT'S GREAT.

The layout of the city is not so different from Adelaide in South Australia; everything is very close to everything else because it's pretty small but also, pretty absolutely gorgeous.
There are squares and parks everywhere and the botanical gardens are just beautiful.
And I don't even like flowers!

There's a city tram that runs through the center of town (there's a place called Cathedral Square which more or less is the center of town) and on a day like today (Saturday in February), it's almost a shame to use such a convenience.
The weather isn't much cooler than it was in Sydney but it is virtually dry, as in, not humid, and that makes everything that much more tolerable/prefered by those with curly hair.

So far, I've spent my time in New Zealand strolling through the gardens and street fairs and listening to so many street musicians.

Oh and meeting absolutely hilarious characters:

-Iraqi man who told me he was Chinese ("You believe me almost! Because my body is very small! I kid with you!!!!!!") and who had a travel journal of all the friends he's made while living here, and took a picture of me and told me he would call that page "Girl from the United States of New York," and I did not correct him.

-very hairy, skinny guy from San Jose/Santa Barbara who was here on vacation after working for 6 months in Antarctica "doing science." I asked him if he knew where my hostel was and he said he was on his way there but first NEEDED to get a Big Mac, so I accompanied him with a new friend I had made on the plane from Lincolnshire-near-London and we took his picture as he bit into his first Big Mac since 2007.

-then while we were in the Mackers (that's what McDonald's is called in the Southern Hemisphere), two extremely drunk and friendly older gentlemen approached us to ask if we could show them where the line to order was.
Punchline: they were already in line.

Finally, I made it to my hostel and promptly fell asleep.

Of course, this was all after a VERY eventful airport experience.

I was randomly selected to be late for my flight. They made me open every compartment of everything I own, and then they asked me to produce receipts from when I purchased my pear and banana. When I said I didn't get a receipt since it only cost me $1.20, they asked me a minimum of 5 times why I was leaving Australia and if I spoke and undersood English.

But, all in all, I have nothing but good things to say about my experience.

Some travel updates:

As it turns out, I will be here (in NZ) until March 22nd.
(As it also turns out, you can't just go places. You need to have a visa or a ticket of departure. The customer services representatives all over the airport will be happy to reiterate this information ad nauseum.)

Then I fly back to Sydney and fly back out of Sydney on March 24th, to Hong Kong, then from Hong Kong to Istanbul, then from Istanbul to Tel Aviv, where I end my flight on March 25th at 9:40am.
Plans are to be in the motherland, working on a kibbutz and reliving the summer of '07 until about June something.

And then!
And then!

ITALIA!!!

Maybe.

Looks like I'll be meeting up with Meg and Mere (and MiLF and LRN in spirit) sometime in mid to late June and then Bridey in the wee days of July.
How exciting!

I'm really looking forward to this leg of the journey, not just because New Zealand is Middle Earth, but also because I've been traveling for about 3 months now and it's just occurred to me how much me-time that's been. I really love my own company, but it can get a bit much when you're the only one laughing at your jokes and also the only one making jokes at all. Tom's been working in Sydney while I've been galavanting around, and though I've met some great people and had a lot of fun, you (I) forget how necessary it is to have a real friend around sometimes. It's been nice to go back to Sydney and recharge my batteries and reconnect with Tom and the barefoot shower and trustworthy beds, but the fact is that 3 months of traveling by yourself can get very lonely. I had a little breakdown when some of my plans got screwed up so I saw "Up in the Air" and that made everything worse before it got better. The good news is, my breakdown is over and I'm back on the horse, so to speak. I'm excited to be here. I'm excited to see some of the most beautiful things anyone has ever seen. I'm also excited to have a change of pace from Australia; I really love that country but it's also put me through the proverbial wringer and I think it's time to break it off between us.

In sum: I'm in New Zealand! How great is that! SO GREAT.

Mental Types of Health

2010-02-18T03:31:00.000-08:00

In a world with so much uncertainty, it's important to know that there are some things you can hold onto.

Like grudges.

You Are Not Enough People!

2010-02-16T01:07:00.000-08:00

Okay, now let’s have some fun. Let’s talk about sex. Let’s talk about women. Freud said he didn’t know what women wanted. I know what women want: a whole lot of people to talk to. What do they want to talk about? They want to talk about everything.

What do men want? They want a lot of pals, and they wish people wouldn’t get so mad at them.

Why are so many people getting divorced today? It’s because most of us don’t have extended families anymore. It used to be that when a man and a woman got married, the bride got a lot more people to talk to about everything. The groom got a lot more pals to tell dumb jokes to.

A few Americans, but very few, still have extended families. The Navahos. The Kennedys.

But most of us, if we get married nowadays, are just one more person for the other person. The groom gets one more pal, but it’s a woman. The woman gets one more person to talk to about everything, but it’s a man.

When a couple has an argument nowadays, they may think it’s about money or power or sex or how to raise the kids or whatever. What they’re really saying to each other, though without realizing it, is this: “You are not enough people!”

A husband, a wife and some kids is not a family. It’s a terribly vulnerable survival unit.

* * * *

I met a man in Nigeria one time, an Ibo who had six hundred relatives he knew quite well. His wife had just had a baby, the best possible news in any extended family.

They were going to take it to meet all its relatives, Ibos of all ages and sizes and shapes. It would even meet other babies, cousins not much older than it was. Everybody who was big enough and steady enough was going to get to hold it, cuddle it, gurgle to it, and say how pretty or handsome it was.

Wouldn’t you have loved to be that baby?

-Kurt Vonnegut

Indifferent Cities

2010-02-11T23:37:00.000-08:00

(Backstory: "Indifferent Cities" is the new Speechwriters, LLC album and it's essential listening. Make a note.)

It's Friday and it's hot and it's humid and it's February.
I've spent the better half of today wandering around The Rocks and sweating, and I wouldn't have it any other way.

Things I've noticed since being back in Sydney again:

-I really like bridges.
-I really don't like humidity.
-I have a street cred surplus.
-I really like the way LeBron James plays basketball.
-I really like "The Big Bang Theory"

Music I can't get enough of:

Tally Hall
Ezra Furman and the Harpoons
The National
Nickel Creek
Cream
The Traveling Wilburys
Smokey Robinson and the Miracles
The Foundations
Speechwriters, LLC

If you can't tell, I'm mostly just waiting to go to New Zealand.

Quality Time With Couches

2010-02-06T18:47:00.000-08:00

Because Nature's been spending a lot of time raining, I've been spending a lot of time on the couch.
Justin (Tom's cousin) has a movie collection meant for sedentary rainy days, so I can't complain too much. This weekend I watched:

-The Ladykillers
-Oh Brother Where Art Thou?
-Almost Famous
-Beerfest
-Baseketball
-THX 1138
-Star Wars Episodes 2 and 3
-Cool Runnings (this was on TV but still counts)
-Dark Knight
-Batman Begins
-Heat
-Blow
-Big Fish

Overarching verdicts: Almost Famous makes me so happy to be so sad; The Coen Brothers are so good; Katie Holmes is so bad; George Lucas should stick to his Star Wars; Baseketball is still such a good idea.

UPDATE

The weather's improved!
And the Saints won!
And because of the improvement in the weather, I left the apartment and watched the Saints win!

I decided to venture out into the fine city that is Sydney and stumbled upon an adventure.
I didn't exactly mean to watch the Superbowl at a bar at 1pm surrounded by Irish people (and of course a few Germans) but, you know.
These things happen.
I wandered by this one hotel on Pitt Street (sidenote: a lot of the bars are called hotels here, something to do with alcoholism, I'm unclear of the details, the point is: they're not hotels) and there was a mass of people by the door.
Easily 50 people, just huddled around this door.
So, I joined them, because I'm trendy.
Turns out, they were watching the Superbowl.
The bouncer asked me for ID, I told him I wasn't interested in going in, he asked me again, I produced my NJ driver's license and he announced to the bar:
"Got an American!"

And the crowd went wild.

So, in I went and Irish people I met.
One pair of Irish lads, Peter and Matthew (who called themselves "Machu Peters" which threw me back to when I hiked that trail in Peru with another Irishman who called it Machu Peters, too...ah, memories) bought me just so many beers.

Cut to the point: I saw the Saints win! And Porter's run! And Manning's frown. And Brees' adorable baby. And gave a very lean geography lesson to about a dozen international American football fans, who now know that New Jersey is a state and New Orleans is not, and most importantly, New Hampshire is NOT south of Georgia.

It was a great time and I'm so happy the Saints won, even if they aren't the Steelers.

Unrelatedly, I booked my flight to New Zealand and will be leaving on February 19th. Also, my insurance covered my diving accident (remember that?) SO! I'm relieved.
My new plan is to not work, ever again. Specifically before I return back to the States.
Ideally I'd like to spend about a month in NZ and then go to Israel for like 2-3 months and then come back to the US of A.
Maybe even fly through the Left coast?
And then either land in Chicago and stay there for a few months, or go all the way to the Newer Jersey and then double back to Chicago.
Orrrrr, buy a Winnebago and drive to the moon.

Suggestions encouraged; directions ignored.

This was so long and disjointed.

Bye!

Left and Leaving

2010-02-02T18:08:00.000-08:00

I'm back in Sydney.
The weather is nice if humid and the Aussie teenagers are all back in school.
Thus the general atmosphere is better than it's been.
I'm planning to be here for like...a week or 2?
Then, New Zealand.
(Flights and rooms still unbooked)

What else? They show the Jetsons and the Flinstones here.

Also? I roadtripped with 3 Swedes back to Sydney, by which I mean, I drove a Mercedes campervan from Melbourne to Sydney.
Essentially all by myself.
On the left side of the road.
It was SO MUCH FUN (I had to capitalize it because exclamation points are contrite)

So much has happened in these past 2 months, it almost seems fake.
But I have pictures to prove it!
So it's not fake.

I read "The Hotel New Hampshire" and it was a great idea.
I saw "The Castle" which is an Australian movie, and it was also a great idea. Watch it.

And...

BAM and I may actually be meeting up somewhere in the world at some point.

Observe:

Bridey: let's look into a weekend on an island
a weekend to 5 days
somewhere in the mediterranean
me: yeah, good
Bridey: Yeah
so let's both research cheap greek/turkish islands
me: yeah!
Bridey: and let's aim for early July/late June
me: great
Bridey: I say 5 days
me: i say 3
Bridey: let's say 3-five
me: let's! let's say it!!!
yeah
ok so 4ish
Bridey: good compromise
me: good
Bridey: compromise
me: HUZZA

We make such a good team.

That Great Ocean Road

2010-01-28T19:20:00.000-08:00

Back in Melbourne!
I got here via the Great Ocean Road, which is a stretch of road between Adelaide and Melbourne and is one of those must-do's for people who travel to Australia.
So, I did it.
It was really pretty and really windy and I saw and took pictures of so many rocks.
We also went to the Grampians which were beautiful and made me wish I had listened better/at all in my geology classes at Pitt, because I'm pretty sure we talked about Australia specifically.

This trip was a lot of bus-time which got kind of old right away, but the people on the bus were great.
To be honest, I think the pictures sort of speak for themselves as far as the itinerary goes so I suggest you just go on Facebook.

Because we were on the bus so much, I had some time to remember some things and write them down so I'll share them here.

Funny Things That Internationals Have Said [In Error]:

"Are you ready to crumble!?!?!"

"I have two sons, one of which is a girl."

"The waves are very bullshit."

"I think that all of the food in America is for stoned people. Everyone who eats is very stoned because the food is very crunchy. Bens and Jerry's are ice creams made for people who only are stoned all the time. And no wonder, did you know you have to be over 16 to drink beer in America?"

Music I Keep Listening to Because it Reminds Me of Home or Seems Somehow Appropriate to Listen to Here:

-The entire "Graceland" album because it's a road trip
-Five Blind Boys of Alabama
-Minus the Bear
-Bob Schneider
-Cake
-Nickel Creek
-Paolo Nutini
-Say Anything
-Fountains of Wayne (New Jersey! New Jersey!)
-Speechwriters, LLC
-The Mamas and the Papas

Things I Keep Noticing About Being Here as Opposed to Being Home:

-people walk on the left side and pass on the right
-the locks and knobs all turn the opposite way and I keep thinking I'm locked in bathrooms
-also the "cold" and "hot" knobs are reversed
-the weather forecast is totally unreliable
-cricket is BORING
-water tastes weird unless you're in a city
-there are hardly any black people and when there are black people, white people stare

My plans for the next leg of my journey are as yet unmade, but look something like:

I'd like to road trip to Sydney and chill out for a week or two before New Zealand, where I'll be going at the end of February.
I'll spend all of March and possibly a little of April in NZ and then come back to Oz to work for like...6 weeks?
At this point, I think I'd like to do an au pair job for 6 weeks because I'd be making a lot of money and would have my room and board taken care of.
Also I could probably shower without sandals if I were an au pair.
(Sidenote: I lost my Israeli flag sandals during my flight between Brisbane and Alice Springs. Sad.)
After working for 6 weeks or so, I'd hop a plane to some part of Asia (which part is unsure) and spend a few weeks immersing myself in very old and very different surroundings.
Then I'd head to some part of Europe, probably, for a week or so and hopefully (!) reunite with BAM and thennn, Israel for maybe...3 months?

Now really all I need to do is book some flights and some accommodations and fund my trip.
No big deal.

Sheiss Fleiggen

2010-01-23T01:39:00.000-08:00

That means "fucking flies" in German, and I learned it out of necessity when I was at Uluru National Park because:

1. Everyone, except for me, 2 Dutch people and 1 Irish person, was German. My group had 21 people in it.

2. There were just so many flies.

3. I feel out of my element when I can't curse to those around me and effectively communicate my frustration with the present situation.

The trip was absolutely great, and I'm still searching for the words to use to really describe just how beautiful/amazing/kind of frighteningly powerful the experience was. For those unawares, look up Uluru and its significance to the Aboriginal people, because I would butcher any sort of explanation here.

My group, aside from being overwhelmingly German, was much less excellent than my Fraser assemblage, but that's okay.
Uluru isn't really a place for boxed wine and tents and general camping fun, it's a place for spiritual reflection and personal exploration.
So, I reflected spiritually and explored personally.

This was a 3-day-2-night deal as well, though it was guided (due to the cultural significance of the place, I felt better going with a guide who could explain things than just winging it by myself) and generally just really cool.
Cool in the "wow, how awesome" way, not in temperature.
It was 43 degrees Celcius the whole time.
The coolest it got, at night, was 38 degrees Celcius.
Needless to say, I was glad I brought my fleece! (Sarcasm)

We "did" Uluru the first day, but due to the extreme heat we weren't allowed to be outside after 11am (not kidding) so we ended up spending most of the afternoon in a pool and at the cultural center, learning about the life and times of the Aboriginal people in Australia.
Not-so-fun-fact: Until some time in the 1960's, Aboriginal PEOPLE were considered part of the flora and fauna of central Australia. And, it wasn't illegal to just shoot an Aboriginal person until 1973 or something.
History like that makes me wonder how white people have been able to be in charge of so many things for so long.
We saw the sunset around Uluru (though it was supposed to be behind Uluru) which was nice but I'd suggest looking at professional pictures instead of mine.
We made a stir-fry dinner and camped at a site not too far away and it was so hot I slept above my sleeping bag and swag the entire night.

The next day we woke up at 4am to watch the sunrise, again not behind but around, Uluru.
It was really gorgeous and much more tolerable to be outside.
Then we hiked Valley of the Winds which was also great, though HOT.
We had to be out of the sun again at 11am so we were.
Most of the time out of the sun was spent at a pool or in the van with air conditioning.
Then we camped at a new site and cooked a nice meal of chili con carne (which the Germans called "chili with carne") and turned in early, for another early morning.
This night WOULD HAVE BEEN totally uneventful, except for the snake.

For those of you who don't know, I have a fear of snakes coming out of toilet bowls.
[Not just snakes in general, though]

It just so happened that on this trip, my fear was realized.
BY THIS I MEAN THERE WAS A SNAKE IN THE TOILET BOWL THAT I WAS ABOUT TO PEE IN.

Nothing actually happened, but I dare you to try to pee in the dark tonight.
Even in your own house.

The next day we hiked Kings Canyon which was my favorite hike of all.
We had to scale a steep hill called "Heart Attack Hill" but it was worth all the sweat in the world, because the view was unreal.
We toured around for a bit and were able to stay out a little later because the winds were strong and the red rock faces provided a good amount of shade.
We swam in some natural pools and then boarded the van back to Alice Springs, which took about 5 hours.
We made a few pit stops and at one of the stops, I learned all about Central Australia's long history with camel riding/racing/other things people usually do with horses.
If you didn't know about camels in Central Australia, I suggest you read up. It's not so much fascinating as it is just really expansive.

And now I'm in Adelaide, where I'll be headed to Melbourne along the Great Ocean Road from.
So far, Adelaide is pretty and very easy to navigate, though sort of boring.
And all the grocery stores are closed because it's Australia Day, which is more similar to Thanksgiving than July 4th because all it really celebrates is invading Australia and wiping out the indigenous people here.
But there are barbeques!

I'm probably forgetting a lot of things...

Oh, I saw "Funny People" last night and I have to say, I loved it.
It's got some really funny parts and also some really good music to go along with the not-funny parts.
I recommend a perusal.

Next time I update will probably be from Melbourne, so until then...

HUIIT BRAH

2010-01-18T21:01:00.000-08:00

That's Swedish for "good shit" which is the only way to describe the experience that was Fraser Island.

Also I could describe it like this: AMAAAAAZING.

After 2 very nice and relaxing days in Noosa, I boarded a bus for Hervey Bay en route to Fraser Island.
Fraser Island is the world's largest sand island and there are tons of tour operators along the coast who promise you a memorable experience, so there's not really a wrong way to see it.
But I'm pretty sure the way I saw it was the most right.

After meeting some of my group mates (the hostel/tour operator throws together groups of 9-10 people at random) we drove our pink 4 wheel drive Landrover to the ferry, arrived on Fraser and began the journey.
My group consisted of me, 3 Chilean Jews who spoke Hebrew and Spanish, and 5 Swedes.
Because I missed the obligatory info session the day before and because I've never driven a stick-shift, I wasn't allowed to drive so I was able to sit back and enjoy the whole experience.

But there was one piece of information I was able to glean thanks to my new amigo, Jose Ignaki from Chile:

"There are too many sharks so you cannot swim in the salted water. Too many, which means, you will die."

So, I didn't swim in the salted water but I did swim in Lake Wabby, Eli Creek and the most beautiful place I've ever been, Lake McKenzie.
Holy mother of pearl, Lake McKenzie.
The water was so clear you could actually drink it, and the sand so clean you could brush your teeth with it.
And I did.

The whole experience was really amazing--we camped and cooked our own food and because my group was just so good, everything went swimmingly.
The Swedes were expert campers, the Chileans were expert jokesters and I am an expert at retroactively warning the driver about bumps.
We all got along great, pulled our own weight, and were just generally happy to enjoy the experience, which is unfortunately more than I can say for a lot of the other cars.
Observation: Some people don't like diversity, and most of those people are English.

In addition to some of the most beautiful landscapes I've probably ever seen, I made some really great friends from all around the globe.
And! I may or may not have met a distant cousin of mine from Chile.
Of the 3 Jewish Chileans in my group, all of them were wonderful.
They were all absolutely hilarious and while they didn't like Argentina, they were very warm and treated me as one of the guys.
I was quickly nicknamed La Gringa and they included me in all of their conversations, probably 90% of which I was totally able to keep up with.
So after getting to know one another better and exchanging favorite phrases (all of which are just not appropriate to recount here), we started comparing Jewish customs.
One of the Chileans, Daniel, asked me what my last name was and I said Lerner.
Well, Gabriel, another Chilean, nearly shit a brick:

D: "What's your father's last name?"
Me: "My father's last name is Lerner."
G: "Spell it! Spell it with letters!"
Me: "...L-e-r-n-e-r?"
G: "EN SERIO? ES POSSIBLE?"
Me: "What the hell? Why is he freaking out?"
D: "Because he's also a Lerner!"
G: "PRIMA!!! LA GRINGA ES MI PRIMA!!!"

And so, Gabriel, who greeted me with "what's up my brother from another mother? Where is the Cheesecake Factory?" after I asked him if he spoke any English, became family.
He invited me to his house for Passover and told me where to find the afikomen, so now I basically have to go.

As well, there was an Italian guy who could only say "I fart now" and did, all the time.
There were Germans and Scots galore and the nights around the boxed wine and iPod docks were absolutely perfect.

I can't think of a better way to spend 3 days and 2 nights.

Oh Also, I've Seen Some Great Stuff

2010-01-14T00:42:00.000-08:00

WHOOPS.

Totally forgot to write about what I've seen and what I've done.

We'll start with Byron, since Sydney and Melbourne and Cairns were pretty well documented, I think. (If not, I'll be happy to elaborate)

Byron Bay is the most easterly point on the eastern coast of Australia. Its lighthouse is the first and last thing that planes and ships see when they're traversing the globe, so that's pretty cool.
The beaches are beautiful and the terrain is really diverse; rolling hills mixed with legit rainforests.
There are also rivers and sounds (I think? I forget the terms...) that are filled with Tea Trees, so the water is reddish brown and very good for the skin.

The town itself is very alternative and sort of stuck in a different time period.
Which period exactly is unclear.
It's both very reminiscent of the 60's and also sort of futuristic with a lot of new age influences, so in effect, it's where history stops and starts.
There's a tendency to just forget about the concept of time when you're there and I really had no idea what day or time it was the whole time.
(Turns out I stayed for 7 days--I thought it was only 4)
There's also a tendency to walk around hungover, barefoot and often sunburned.
The town is about 6 streets long so it's very easy to feel very local, which is nice.
The food is good and the nightlife is great, though a bit more expensive than would be logical for most of the people who frequent the establishments.
You'd think that if everyone's an unemployed hippie, they couldn't afford a $12 sandwich, but you'd be wrong.
Hitchhiking is the prefered mode of transport and I did it a few times from the supermarket to my hostel.
Only once did I feel like maybe I should've just walked, but that was just because the car smelled like burned hair. The people were all fine.
I also got the chance to hike through Minyon Falls which was about an hour out of Byron and it was amazing. Easily one of the most memorable activities thus far, with GORGEOUS sights to behold.

All in all, it's a very good surfer town with a cool atmosphere, though I'd suggest not visiting over school holidays. Teenagers are awful and Aussie teens are the worst.

Between Byron and Noosa I stopped over in Brisbane, which was a city I was originally very disinterested in.
However, after spending just one night there, I have to say that it was a very pleasant surprise and maybe even one of my favorite stops so far.
The city itself is cool and easy to navigate, with tons of street art and pedestrian areas to stroll through.
The botanical gardens and bridge walk are great and offer a really pretty view of the harbour, for free.
I didn't really get a chance to try out the nightlife but it seemed cool as well, if sort of generic (but really, it makes no difference which city I'm in; the drinks taste the same and they do the same thing)
The people were the friendliest in Brisbane as compared with any other city, and for that reason, and because I was so in need of a kind word after Byron, Brisbane holds a little piece of my heart.

Noosa/Noosa Heads is another pretty beach town, though as I'm learning, all the towns along the northeast coast are kind of the same.
They're small, there's a beach on one side and a lot of cute shops and expensive restaurants on the other.
Noosa has a gorgeous beach and some great national park space to walk and hike in, though I was advised not to walk through on my own as a female...after I did.
Don't worry, I'm fine and didn't run into any of the characters they warned against.
But there are quite a few parts of the park that are totally isolated and I can understand why it's not the best idea to walk through at night.
The sunrise here is renowned for good reason, but I think most sunrises are pretty sweet so I'm sort of impartial to anywhere.
Noosa is also the town of roundabouts (traffic circles) as there are about 200 in a teeny tiny area.
It's confusing for drivers and nauseating for passengers, but it looks cool on maps.

Ok that's good for now.

Spontaneity Has Its Time and Place

2010-01-14T00:20:00.000-08:00

2 posts in 2 days.
This is what happens when the Australian sun just won't stop flirting with you.
[I am inside and out of the heat, is what I mean]

After the hullabulloo that was Byron Bay, I have decided to take some action and direct my trip just a little bit:

I leave for Hervey Bay tomorrow afternoon, get in at 9pm and go on my Fraser Island excursion until the 19th.
Then I go to Brisbane by bus at 4:40am and fly to Alice Springs the next day at 6:50am.
I get into Alice at about 1pm, stay there for a night and then go on my Uluru/Red Centre trip until the 24th.
Then I fly from Alice to Adelaide, where I stay for 2 nights, I think.
Then I drive the Great Ocean Road from Adelaide and finish the journey in Melbourne on the 28th of January, I think.
And then, I'll spend some time in Melbourne, maybe even work (?) until I decide to fly to New Zealand, for which I bought a Stray bus pass that enables me to see both islands on my own time.
But it also enables me to have some informational tour guidance and probably a lot of drunk 20-somethings to help me work on prejudging people.

And all this for the low, low price of $2,055! (Which isn't that bad when you consider that it includes flights/buses, accomodation, and trip costs)

The only things I still need to book/pay for are:
-my flight to NZ
-my accomodation when I get there
-food

Not bad.

I'd also like to road trip back to Sydney from Melbourne in late Feb, which will probably cost me a pretty penny, but it's supposed to be a beautiful drive so I say, to hell with pretty pennies.

It was fun winging it and planning as I went along.
Not having anywhere to be is sometimes really great.
But sometimes, it's sort of damning (at least in my view).
So I've decided that spontaneity and I, while we usually have a really great relationship, should probably see other people.
At least for now.

The new plan* is as follows, kind of:

Australia until...like...late February?
Then New Zealand until March or April?
Then either Bali or Thailand or Malaysia or anywhere that allows me to fly sort of cheaply from Australia to somewhere else, until about...sometime in late April/early May?
Then probably Israel?
Then meeting up with a one Bridey Aliza Maidhof either in Morocco, Ireland, Rome, or Barcelona, in, like, July?
Then probably the United States.
Probably.

So I'll probably be back sometime before 2011.

*this changes about every 25 minutes or so. Ask Tom.

Oh also!
While Australia is known for its amazing road trips and scenery (as it should be), the USA also has its share of beauty.
I propose that you (YOU) should join me in purchasing a Winnebago and driving from the east coast to the west coast sometime after I get back.
This has been a dream of mine since I was in middle school.
Please, help me realize it.

You Know What My Problem Is?

2010-01-12T01:42:00.000-08:00

I'll tell you. My problem is that I don't judge people enough.

That's right. I said it. And here's why:

I have this tendency to expect people to be decent, honest individuals and am continuously shocked when they aren't. I used the word "continuously" right there because they indeed aren't, SO much. I really shouldn't be so shocked all the time, because as my highly intelligent mother likes to say, "common sense isn't so common." Mom, you're a goddamn soothsayer.

(Be forewarned, this whole post is one big rant about how much I dislike idiots/crazies/assholes. Feel free to skip it.)

My incredible Byron Bay stay was ripped apart limb by metaphorical limb due to two people whose identifying characteristics I can only describe as miserable and crazy.

The details of the story are so absurd and numerous that I'm hesitant to even attempt a recount here, but suffice it to say that by this past weekend, when the hostel owner went on a trip from Saturday until Tuesday (today), all hell broke loose.
Almost as soon as the owner left, the Swedish-then-actually-Polish-then-she-claimed-to-be-some-other-nationality-and-I-just-decided-she-was-full-of-shit receptionist-turned-dictator turned on a dime and became an absolute nutcase.

Bipolarity would be a sugar coating, but that's the easiest way to explain her mood swings and totally unpredictable states of mind.
When I met her, she was bubbly and sweet. She offered to drive me into town whenever I needed, she asked all kinds of questions about my travels so far, and was very happy to have some extra help. She also spoke in a very high-pitched voice that I found quirky if also really irritating.

But then, she turned a switch.

One second, we're laughing about stepping in an unidentifiable puddle, the next she's near tears because there are no more dish towels.
She has said twice that she HATES Americans, but she also loves meeting people!!!!!!
She threw Oklahoma girl's clothing out of their shared room in the middle of the night, for no apparent reason.
When asked why, the receptionist suddenly didn't understand English. And her voice dropped about 6 octaves.

The receptionist's ally is a whole separate species.

He's born and bred in Byron and a true Aussie bloke, which typically would be awesome, and was, at first.
He knows tons of weird information about various poisons and Australian animals, when the best times to see dolphins are, how to set up all kinds of tents, and my favorite, he drives an enormous 4-wheel-drive monster truck called "The Bullfrog."

But he's also absolutely crazy (not the fun kind) and speaks too freely about his gross and varied sexual and drug-ridden exploits, lives in the back of his van, wears a minimum of three pinky rings, and is equally as bipolar. He digs for gold, sells very shoddy cars on eBay, has a son in Germany who he is determined to get custody of because he has friends in the Polish mafia (as well as a best friend who is a Colombian cocaine producer, in case I'm interested), and is about as racist as Jim fucking Crowe.

So.

Greenland Guesthouse Resort became Survivor: The Byron Bay Edition.
There quickly became two sides: our side (me, Oklahoma girl and Brazilian boy, who both turned out to be really great compatriots), which we will call "REALITY" and their side, which we will call "BATSHIT INSANITY."

After a lot of very strange and uncomfortable tension, BATSHIT INSANITY decided that it was time.
Time for what?
Exactly.

The receptionist got Crazy Bloke to tell REALITY (me, OK, and Brazil) to "get the fuck out of the hostel" because they (BATSHIT INSANITY) were now in charge since the owner was gone.
REALITY resisted. We all just sat there eating our watermelon and apple slices and asked, "why?"
This got BATSHIT INSANITY angry, Crazy Bloke threatened to call the cops.
Brazil called his bluff, since Crazy Bloke most likely had more shit to uncover about his storied past and would in effect be screwing himself over (smart move by Brazil), but Crazy Bloke threatened that if Brazil didn't "get the FUCK off my property, you'll be sorry!"

(And this all in front of guests, which I'm sure the owner would've appreciated)

I quickly decided to go to my campervan and wait out the tension.

About an hour later, I walked back in and asked if things had calmed down a bit, to which the receptionist again suddenly didn't understand what I meant?
Receptionist: "What is 'calm down?'"
Me: "Relaxed. Not fucking tense. Normal."
Receptionist: "I don't know what these means? I work 14 hour days!!!!!!!!!!! I don't have time to deal with this shit! Fucking American beeeetches. No respect!"

I decided it best not to answer her, so I just booked a bus to Noosa by way of Brisbane (where I am now) and left this afternoon.

Part of me thinks this all could've been avoided had I looked past the too-friendly exterior of these people and seen them for what they really are: totally insane and looking to take whatever they can from others (specifically, energy).
The other part is just happy I'm not there anymore, though my campervan was prettttty sweet.

I'm sure my dad would say, "this is a good learning experience."
And I'm sure he'd be right.
But there are some life lessons, like how to communicate with crazy people, that I just keep having to learn and to be honest, I think I'll just never master that skill.

In Case You Wanted To Know

2010-01-10T00:34:00.000-08:00

Commodoties I Miss From Home:

1. Good, strong hair ties. Australians just don't understand.

2. Mascara that costs less than $15.00.

3. Baby carrots.

Dating Tips for Australian Men from an American 24 year-old-not-yet-Woman:

1. If you are bald by choice, I am unavailable by necessity.

2. If you offer to buy me a drink after telling me that you are a plumber from Bourke (the Outback) and that you don't have a place to stay tonight, I will refuse that drink.

3. If you have a beard that goes to your chest, it will squander any chances of love I may have taken on you.

4. If you don't own other shirts besides tank tops, I support that, but from a distance.

5. Please, for the love of all things decent, stop calling me "doll" unless you're an octogenarian OR Patsy from "Absolutely Fabulous."

Observations I've Made About Other People Since Working as a Housekeeper:

1. There are 2 kinds of people who stay at hostels: those who have no money and those who hate spending money.

2. If you leave an unattended can of tuna in the kitchen, the contents will be consumed and the can will remain, for days.

3. Rather than take out the trash, people will hide their garbage all over the hostel. Specifically people like to put trash in flower pots and underneath used towels.

4. Non-English speakers are generally nicer to "the help" though make grosser messes.

5. People from the UK are a crapshoot. Swedes are wonderful. Germans are everywhere. French women can kiss my ass but the men don't have to, and generally, Israelis are just out of their fucking minds.

More to come, I'm sure.

Byron Bay: As Good As It Gets Just Got Better

2010-01-07T01:16:00.000-08:00

Updates abound!

I'm not even sure where to begin.

It is currently 8:20pm Gold Coast Time and I am sitting at the FREE-TO-ANYONE-WHO-WANTS-TO-USE-IT-EVEN-IF-YOU'RE-NOT-A-GUEST-HERE laptop with internet at the Greenland Guesthouse and Resort in Byron Bay, NSW, Australia.
I arrived 2 days ago with pretty much everything to my name here in the land of Men at Work and decided to really wing it with this trip; I booked no accomodation.
On my other jaunts, pre-booking a room turned out to be sort of silly.
Plus, there are always* day-of booking deals.
So, I decided not to book anything. Whatsoever. At all.

*except on this trip.

As it's peak season in Byron (school vacation for the children/bratty teens and summer for everyone else), not pre-booking was a very bad idea.
After my 12 hour-turned-18-hour bus ride from Sydney, I arrived on Jonson Street and had nowhere to go.
But first, that bus ride.

Oh, that bus ride.
It was scheduled to leave at 10:30pm, and it did.
It was not scheduled to break down at 3am in the middle of the road somewhere along the eastern coast of Australia, but it also did.
The driver noticed I was the only one awake so he recruited me to help as his mechanic.
[It should be noted that the extent of my mechanics experience was when I was about 8 or 9 years old and would re-chain the bikes for the other kids in my neighborhood. It was a successful if short-lived career, and some of my neighbors still bring it up.]

Anyway, the bus broke down for 2 hours.

When we got to Byron, it was 1pm, about 30 degrees Celcius, and I realized I had nowhere to put my stuff.
So I jumped on a computer and tried to book a hostel but had no luck because there were no vacancies ANYWHERE. [Not an exaggeration. Read that LITERALLY.]
I refreshed my search and found one called the Greenland Guesthouse and Resort that had 1 room available for $45 and I jumped on it.
I got a taxi over to the "resort" and the girl at the desk gave me a very unhappy smile and told me there was a mistake and that the website didn't update and that there was indeed no room available.
Then I panicked, internally.
Then I asked her if I could work for accomodation.
She went to ask her boss, who I met and spoke to.
He noticed my Israeli flag sandals, I noticed his Hebrew accent, and voila.
I've been living in an abandonded campervan in the back lot for the past 2 nights and so far, so great. (Pictures will be posted soon)

The work part of my job isn't too bad; mostly turning beds down and cleaning bathrooms.
But really, I don't mind cleaning and it's nice to see that even at budget hostels, the towels and sheets are actually laundered and clean.*
Usually I'm done by noon, and the rest of my day is miiiiiine.

*Not the comforters though. Not at all.

So far, I've been to the beach, to the town, and to Minyon Falls.
I recommend all 3.
Only thing about the falls is, there are leeches EVERYWHERE. [Not an exaggeration. Read that LITERALLY.]
I thought I had a bug bite and when I went to look it was in fact 4 leeches stuck to my ankle.
I also went to a rodeo that Byron hosted last night.
That was an experience.
One of the British girls called it "special." I would agree.
I tried to explain the concept of the rodeo to the Israelis, but it was lost on them.
Instead, I asked how you say "pointless" and "animal abuse" in Hebrew.
Pretty sure they get it now.

I've also met some of the other "guests" at the "resort," most of whom are working here as well.
One girl, from Oklahoma, is nice if a bit...not-up-to-date-with-"The Office" which makes her a disappointing find.
There's also a Brazilian guy here named Jorge who is the most Brazilian Brazilian I've ever met. Cocky, gorgeous, tan, barefoot, laughing, and generally unintelligible.
There are also those 2 Israelis staying in the tent next to mine, friends of the owner. They're both named Shay and are both pretty hilarious.
They invited me to the falls today and it reminded me just how out of shape I am and how great at hiking Israelis are.
But it was a beautiful hike and it felt great to be covered in sweat [and leeches] after being pretty sedentary in Sydney post-dive.

That was a lot of information.

And Away She Keeps Going

2010-01-03T23:16:00.000-08:00

Byron Bay, here I come.

"Look, I don't want to wax philosophic, but I will say that if you're alive you've got to flap your arms and legs, you've got to jump around a lot, for life is the very opposite of death, and therefore you must at very least think noisy and colorfully."
-Mel Brooks

The Earliest New Year

2010-01-01T20:25:00.000-08:00

10 years ago, I was 14.

2010, you already intimidate me.
But I will not be intimidated.

Instead, I will resolve-

To be more active;

To be more present;

To look around and notice the little things;

To worry about those little things less;

To use less and give more;

And finally,

To enjoy.

Happy New Year.

A Year and a Month and a Half's Worth of Reflections

2009-12-26T01:21:00.000-08:00

It just occurred to me today (the 26th of December) that I've been in transit in some way or another for the past 6 weeks. And also for the past 12 months.

Along with that realization came a bunch of different feelings:
First, I felt accomplished.
Then, I felt impressive.
Then, I felt 24.
Then, I felt excited.
And then, I felt pangs of homesickness and doubt.
These are pangs I'm familiar with.
I've gone away for a while before, I've been in new and strange places.
I know where to put that doubt.
I brought cards (the USS Enterprise is always nearby, Bridey) and pictures (that 20th birthday present is still the best I've ever gotten, Abby) to make home seem less far away;
I sporadically Skype with Grampa and he tells me jokes that come through so clearly it's like we're sitting next to each other at the diner.

And then, I felt so, so fortunate.

But somehow, I can't seem to wrap my head around this experience I'm having.
Lately, I'm not as present as I'd planned to be.
I'm not as aware as I'd hoped.
It's as if this trip, this adventure, this whatever you want to call it, is happening to me as opposed to something I've made happen.
I keep having to take a step back and remind myself that I'm the main character here, that I'm not just reading this story.

It's as if my perspective inverted as soon as I got down under.

Part of me (60%) doesn't want to make any plans.
That part wants to just let things happen as they happen, go so entirely with the flow that I become a fly on the wall of the world.
"After all, that was the original idea," that part reminds me.
"Quit the 9-5, see the world, figure it out as it you go. So, go."

But now that I'm here and going with the flow, that other part of me is starting to wonder whether it might make for a better all-around experience if I thought ahead just a bit.
"Maybe map out the year and figure out some sort of route, so that you have things to plan for and look forward to," says the other part of me.
"Maybe it's a good idea to book some things and print out some reference numbers, just for old time's sake?"

It sounds ridiculous, but all this freedom is paralyzing.
It's overwhelming.
It's like being at the beach and not having a towel.

But then, who really needs a towel?

(By which I mean, I've been so programmed for so long to have a plan that now that I don't have a plan, I don't know how to proceed. But then, who really needs a plan?)

I went with Amanda (Tom's cousin Justin's wife...phew) to her yoga class a few weeks back, and upon re-reading this post, I think I've solved all of my problems. Wait for it, this isn't a tangent.

The yoga instructor was this super chilled out, lean-not-skinny Australian surfer who philosophized and lectured as we stretched and sweated through the various poses he called out.
At first, I couldn't get into the whole thing.
I like to think I'm open minded but telling me to "put all my thoughts in a proverbial paper bag" and then to "take that bag, and physically throw it away" and then watch each of us, one at a time, literally throw out a pretend paper bag is just a bit much, even for me.
And I went to camp.

But as the class went on, the instructor made some very good points.
Most of them were about being as mindful as possible, so as to keep things in constant balance and perspective.
One of the things he said is resonating with me now:
He was telling a story about one of his students who was distressed and seemingly unable to let things go. Something about work being stressful and a divorce, you know the story.
So the instructor tells the guy first to put his issues in that paper bag.
Doesn't work. Shocker.

Then the instructor says, "You know how to make things better? It's easy. It's so simple. You just stop worrying. You just stop."

That's it. You just stop. Once you free your mind up from worrying so much, you can pay attention to what actually matters, what's actually happening, what's actually in front of you.

Recap:
Life is good.
I'm half who I am and half who I'm dying to be.
I'm looking forward to 2010.

Sunburnt Christmas

2009-12-23T17:34:00.000-08:00

I'm back in Sydney at Tom's cousins' place and have been since last Thursday.
I've done a lot of nothing and while I feel pretty useless, I didn't realize how much I needed a lot of nothing since the dive.
Illustration: I went for a walk and after 20 minutes, I felt like I climbed Machu Picchu. Again.

That said.

I'm eager to get on the road again.
Having a comfy place to stay is amazing, but not necessarily what I came here for.
So, I'm onto Byron Bay after the new year.
[Of course, actual plans are not actually made yet]
I'm planning to Couchsurf my first two or three nights and then find a hostel to "live" at for a bit.
Though I haven't been there yet, I have a good feeling about Byron and I think I'll probably like to spend a good amount of time there.
And, since my hospital bills suck so much, I think getting a job sounds like a pretty good idea as well, so I'll be looking into that.
For a change of pace, I'll be bus-ing it there instead of flying---it's also about $100 cheaper and though it'll be a lot longer of a trip, I'm looking forward.
I love me some transcontinental road time.

It's amazing how the Real World can find you, even in Australia.

Happy Holidays/Happy New Year.

Breathing Underwater and Other Things I'm Just Not Good At

2009-12-16T20:08:00.000-08:00

Raise your hand if you know someone traveling in Cairns who went to the Tablelands!?

(raise your hands)

And who swam in Josephine and Milla Milla Falls!?

(raise your hands)

And who snorkeled in the Great Barrier Reef!?

(raise your hands)

And who dove in the Great Barrier Reef!?

(raise your hands)

And who almost fucking drowned and spent 6 nights in an Australian hospital with an oxygen mask and sporadic nebulizer on, because her lungs were full of sea water after her mouthpiece got knocked out when she was 12 meters underwater?!

(raise your hands)

I think that pretty much sums it up.

I'm alive, but I'm definitely less chipper than I was on Monday morning.
And don't you worry, I'm going over to the diving company in about 20 minutes to pick a bone the size of my hospital bill.
And at least my diving story gets me street cred, as opposed to all those skinny German tourists who just have stupid tan lines from their wet suits to prove they went anywhere.

For details, email. Otherwise I'll post more about my next move as I know more.

And for the record: FUCK YOU, BALD DIVING INSTRUCTOR. FUCK YOU AND FUCK YOUR FUCKING ACCENT.

(5 hours later)

Ok. Building my bridge. Getting over it.
Getting to Sydney, to be exact.

And while that 3 night hospital stay wasn't necessarily an ideal use of my time, it did put things into perspective.
For example, I didn't have a stroke and now have to use a diaper and eat a soft diet.
I also didn't drown.

Little victories, I suppose.

Heading North and Making a Sharp Right

2009-12-08T21:17:00.000-08:00

Updated Route on the Abby Does Australia Tour:

Sydney>>>Melbourne>>>Cairns>>>Tablelands>>>Great Barrier Reef>>>Cairns Base Hospital>>>Sydney>>>Byron Bay>>>Brisbane>>>Noosa>>>Hervey Bay>>>Fraser Island>>>Brisbane>>>Alice Springs>>>Uluru>>>Alice Springs>>>Adelaide>>>Great Ocean Road to Melbourne>>>Road trip to Sydney>>>New Zealand>>> Ummm...

...

Also got a new camera. Let the improved documentation of amazing experiences begin.

UPDATE TRAVEL ROUTE (THIS IS MORE FOR ME SO I CAN LOOK BACK AND REMEMBER HOW I GOT PLACES):

All of the above including: Sydney>>>Christchurch>>>Kaikoura>>>Picton>>>Marahau>>>Abel Tasman>>>Westport>>>Punakaiki>>>Barrytown>>> ... (updates to come)

I Love Melbourne So Much, I May Just Marry It

2009-12-06T03:19:00.000-08:00

Currently sitting on my beautiful friend Yael's amazingly comfy couch in her gorgeously decorated apartment in fantastic East St. Kilda, Melbourne, Victoria, AUS.

Enough adjectives? I didn't think so either.

THIS IS THE BEST PLACE EVER.

I don't know how to explain how incredible this trip has become, but I'll try.

I've been feeling a bit lost for the past few weeks, both in a good, liberating way and in a way that has made me rethink this whole decision.
As is most likely natural when one takes a big step towards the rest of her/his life, one begins to wonder and worry whether or not that step was a good idea.
Well, after spending all of 4 days in Melbourne, I can confidently say that this step was indeed the best idea I've ever had.

Like I mentioned in posts past, Sydney was a very nice place to be, both in terms of my accommodations (which I'm still appreciating, and will continue to do so) and in terms of my surroundings.
But something felt amiss.
Chances are, it was me more than Sydney, but whatever the reason, things feel much more in place here than they did there, and as I have no roots whatsoever, it's a good feeling to have.

After 2 of the most hilarious and thoroughly interesting nights I've had in a while, Yael picked me up from my hostel this morning and we spent the day catching up and touring Melbourne.
The weather was gorgeous and we strolled Carlisle and Chapel Streets, found some sweet market, walked down to the beach and had an amazing meal at "Lentil As Anything" which is a non-profit vegan/vegetarian restuarant that provides food on a "pay as you wish" basis and is run by volunteers: www.lentilasanything.com
Needless to say, THAT WAS COOL.

Then we went back to Yael's apartment which is, for lack of a better word, Awesome.
I have my own room with my own huge bed and my own key.
After sharing a room with maybe the bitchiest French girl I've ever met, this improvement is immeasurable.
Yael and I had some wine and caught up and reconnected some more, which made me realize just how much I love meeting people and making friends.
[Sure, it sounds trite when you read it on a blog, but for me, one of the most important reasons to travel is to meet and learn from other people.
Something about Melbourne lends itself to that far more than Sydney did.]
Then we went to drinks with some of her friends, who were all also hilarious and interesting, and then we rented a movie* and put on sweats and noshed on fresh fruit.

This may be the best Sunday I've ever had, and I'm 24 years old.

Forgive me if this rambling is too cheesy, but as my favorite author Kurt Vonnegut's favorite uncle Alex once said, "if this isn't nice, I don't know what is."

Plans are still very much unmade for the future (ie: the next 2 weeks and beyond) but I'll keep you all posted.

Fair Dinkums

2009-12-03T22:59:00.000-08:00

I realize I'm updating this a lot and many of you are probably wondering why I'm not out and about and/or drunk and raising hell in the wilds of Australia.

But rest assured, I'm doing all of those things.

I'm just a very, very good multi-tasker.
(Also, a very, very good multi-tasker with a budget.)

(Also also, Fair Dinkums is what Australians say instead of, "way to go!"
I speak Australian now)

I'm writing to you from Pint on Punt, my hostel in Melbourne (in St. Kilda) for the next 2 days.
So far, so great.
I've made quite a few new friends already---many of whom are cool enough to keep in touch with after my stay here.
My roommies are great and we've been spending the days together.
The rest of the hostelmates are an interesting mix of 20somethings from the UK and some hilarious Swedes.

The accommodations are dingy, but all in all, I'm happy.

And, of course, I met the Chabad rabbi of Melbourne and 3 of his sons on the train today.
Question: Who's surprised?
Answer: Nobody.

I had coffee (peppermint tea) with my friend Yael, who I met last summer in Israel, today at a cafe on Bourke Street in the CBD and also met a few of her friends.
Yael's from here (Melbourne) and is letting me stay with her for a week on Sunday.
It's amazing what a 10-day trip can result in; namely, amazing friends from all over the world; namely, Yael Furstenberg.

The rest of the day was spent meandering throughout the CBD.
I walked all along Toorak and Chapel Streets in St. Kilda beforehand and found a few cheap shops to buy some unnecessaries (t-shirts and dresses for $6, but I mean, come on)
In the CBD I found the Greek precinct and Chinatown; the former offered much better food.
I essentially ate my way from one end of the city to the other, which was a great idea.*

*There's a place called "Lord of the Fries" which I recommend to anyone visiting Melbourne, as long as they like to enjoy their life. It's a lot like Pommes Frites in the East Village of NYC, except that it's cheaper and generally just more fun.
*There's also a Greek place that has a name I don't remember that makes maybe the best kalaifa (also called birdsnests, similar to baklavah, sort of...sticky and sweet and nutty and GOOD). I found it and debated between getting a water and getting diabetes. I chose the latter.)
*I'm probably coming back home fat. I'm more than comfortable with this.

Then, on the train back from the city I met a couple of Israelis who liked my "thongs" which are also known as flip flops, because they have Israeli flags on them.

They were very Israeli in that they were close-talkers and asked me a lot of questions about my family with a lot of "iiiimmmmms" and "eh eh eh ehs," all while looking at me with piercingly gorgeous eyes, and while I was answering in vague terms that I'm not "married per se," the Chabad rabbi happened to overhear and invite me to Shabbat dinner.
I politely declined and then he gave me some licorice and said a blessing.
I don't understand what the two had to do with each other, but the licorice was good.

All in all, I like Melbourne heaps more than Sydney.
Sydney's a beautiful city with incredible views and the harbour is a pretty breathtaking place, but to be honest, Sydney on the whole feels a lot like any other big city.
There are fancy stores and pretty buildings and old* churches, just like in NYC or London or Buenos Aires.
People are generally nicely dressed and ready to spend a good amount of money to have a good time.
The streets are also entirely confusing and poorly urban planned, which I found personally offensive, since everybody knows I'm bad at navigating.

But Melbourne. Ah, Melbourne.
Melbourne is relaxed, yet refined.
Classy yet casual.
The streets are on a grid system but there are so many of them that you can still get pretty lost just by wandering, which I enjoy.
The prices are far more affordable than in Sydney (though Australia is a generally expensive place.*)
And the people are just delightful.
Really.
No sarcasm there, whatsoever.
Melbourne is the Australia I've been looking for, minus the Pittsburgh-esque weather.
But, believe it or not, I still like it. A lot.

*Old in that this country was settled like 25 minutes ago, so the churches are from the 1800 and 1900s.
*expensive like: a burger, fries and drink can run you $15, a salad the same, and a "real meal" like meat and pasta, a veggie and a drink and wine is easily $30-35.

I'm not sure how long I'll stay here, as I've only bought a one-way ticket, but I'm planning on staying for about 3 weeks or so.
New Years Eve in Sydney is (obviously) the place to be, so I'm going to try to be back for that. But we shall see. No plans, remember? Woo-hoo!
But, until then, I have nothing but time and some American green backs to spend.
Have I mentioned how great my life is? Because if not, I can elaborate...

Hope everyone's doing well, and a belated happy 30th anniversary to Marshall and Sheila Lerner, to whom I owe a big "way to go" on tying the knot. Love you guys!
Love everyone else, too.

And Away She Goes

2009-12-02T15:49:00.000-08:00

Sydney's been cool but there's only so much fancy shopping and confusing urban planning and incredibly hospitable accommodations I can handle for a week or 2.

So.

I'm off to Melbourne with a one-way ticket.
I leave: today.
I decided: 2 days ago.

You know what's great about not having [any] responsibilities?
The answers are: endless.

Unrelatedly, you know what's great about my sister?
The answers are: also endless.

Check out her blog and understand what I mean when I say that quitting my job to travel another continent is relatively unimpressive in my family:

www.FirstWays.com

Also---yes, they do make Kangaroo steak/jerky/burgers here.

Ok, bye.

Hello from The Future

2009-11-29T03:57:00.000-08:00

A few thoughts:

-when you're lost in Sydney, chances are, so are 4 of the 5 people you ask directions from.
-never underestimate the power of lyrical knowledge when meeting new people. This is especially true with regard to Michael Jackson.
-USA colloquialisms are novel when said by non-USA residents. This is especially true with regard to the terms "word up" and "bitch, please."
-the words "take away" are synonymous with "take out" in other parts of the world, which is confusing when ordering take out.
-Thanksgiving tastes great no matter where you are, as long as there's a sweet potato involved.
-making friends with boys who have girlfriends is a risky venture, unless said girlfriend speaks little to no English and is far away. In short, boys who have girlfriends should date girls who live far away and don't speak English.
-taking the bus in another country is not nearly as difficult as it was in Pittsburgh.
-just because it's hot outside doesn't mean I can eat ice cream for every meal. Probably.
-even if it is Christmas time, hot chocolate in 100+ degree weather just doesn't make sense.
-the best part of waking up is apple juice in your cup, to an Australian.
-everyone will know you're an American if you ask for the rest room instead of the toilet.
-everyone will also know you're American if you say "I'm good" instead of "no thanks" in response to "would you like some more [apple juice]?"
-Subway (as in the sandwich shop---yes, they're all over the Western world) smells like Subway no matter where you are, which when you think about it, isn't as comforting as you'd hope, since Subway should smell like the ingredients and not...Subway. (This one's courtesy of Tom)

Some witty Sydneysider t-shirts I've seen on the Harbour Bridge:

"My other body is a temple. This one's a slut."

"Beer makes you smarter. It made Bud wiser."

[front]: I <3 Sydney
[back]: Your mother!

"Somebody who loves me went to Australia and got me this lousy t-shirt and it's too damn small!"--seen on a very fat child.

More to come.

Updated since Melbourne:

-of all the ironic Kenny Rogers shirts I've seen, none was more touching than the Obama-face Kenny Rogers shirt I saw on a very old Indian woman.
-Australians ask "how are you going?" instead of "how are you doing?" and I always stop and think about my directions, and they always stop and think it means "not good."
-calling fries "chips" does not change the fact that $5 for a small is just too much.
-Melbourne is the city of trams and it feels like I'm in Disney World all the time, which I like.
-if you call it "goon" and make a face after you drink it, for some reason, everyone will want you to pour them a cup.
-spending $40 for paella, even really good paella, sucks.
-Australians say "I reckon" like cowboys do in John Wayne movies.
-there's a "Princeton" and "East Brunswick" here which doesn't make me homesick but does make me worry that I'll run into someone I know until I remember I'm in Australia.

Updated since Cairns:

-just because someone says, "don't worry, you'll be fine" doesn't always mean it's true, with specific regard to diving.
-egregious Australian misspellings:
tyre vs. tire
learnt vs. learned
honour vs. honor
centre vs. center
aluminium vs. aluminum (fair, they are different words but still)
oreganno vs. oregano
-everyone is barefoot here, even the rich people.
-people in other countries love to hear about College.
-if you're from South Africa and don't tell me, I don't think it's fair to get offended if I can't tell you're not from Australia.
-you can tell a lot about a person by the way they load a dishwasher.
-there seems to be a dearth in the amount of public trash cans (called rubbish bins) and subsequently, too much garbage on the sidewalks.
-people walk left and pass right here, just like they drive.

Updated since Byron Bay:

-calling cotton candy "fairy floss" makes me want to buy all of it.
-carob-covered bananas might be the best thing I've ever eaten.
-every single Israeli does not know one another, but almost.

Thanksgiving And Other North American Things

2009-11-26T01:56:00.000-08:00

Happy Thanksgiving to all and to all a good turkey.

I'm currently writing from Tom's cousin's condo in Neutral Bay, Sydney.

For the record, Tom Manewitz might just be the best travel buddy ever created, if for no other reason than he knows and is related to the most hospitable people ever born.*
I know I exaggerate sometimes, but this is not one of those times.
Tom's cousin, Justin and his wife Amanda, are two of the warmest, most generous people I've ever had the privilege to meet.
They're letting me stay with them until I find a job and apartment of my own and have treated us both like family, even though I'm not related to them, at all.

*Tom's also good at navigating in new cities and making sure I know/putting up with me even though I'm a bad driver, and also he doesn't snore too loudly, so the reasons that make him a good travel buddy are many. Really though.

As for life beyond superb lodgings, I had my first interview today.
It was for a fund raising position similar to what I did my "last semester" in Pittsburgh, except the hours for this job will be far more substantial than that one.
I'll find out if I get it tomorrow but I have a decent feeling they'll offer it to me.
I think I'd rather do something a little different than harassing passersby to try to get them to support my causes.
Especially since I'm also kind of vacation?

The apartment hunt is a bit held up due to the fact that I don't know what I'll be doing/where I'll be working but I am actively searching.

Otherwise, things are great.
It's been beautiful weather and everyone I've met has given me a compliment of one kind or another.
Apparently, I look exactly like Lauren Conrad from "The Hills" which isn't something I'm necessarily proud of, but she's pretty, and so, I agree.

Justin and Amanda took Tom and I to Justin's company Christmas party last night in Darling Harbour which was really fun and my first time in the Harbour.
I met a lot of nice people who gave me great travel suggestions and were very funny.
Australians have a fantastic wit about them and it makes me feel right at home.
They also call finger foods, such as cocktail weenies and crackers and dip, "nibblies."
Come on.

The time difference has been a bit of a struggle but I've been able to speak to some of you and I miss you all muchly.
Amanda, who's American, is having Thanksgiving tomorrow (Friday for us...we're in the future) so I'll be thinking of you while I dig in to our turkey and stuffing and sweet potato casserole.

I Went to Hawaii and Forgot to Take Pictures of People

2009-11-23T14:13:00.001-08:00

I just uploaded all my pictures from Hawaii, of which there are 35.

There are no pictures of anyone besides my pale, pale legs and a shot of me from far away.

I can't believe it either.

Also for those wondering, Men at Work does indeed sound great when you're in the land down under.
I know because that's all I've listened to for 3 days.
That and the Chili Peppers for good measure.
And also in case any Australians peep my iPod.
Gotta keep that street cred high.

Today I wandered around the city and got lost about 6 times.
You know how I do.

I wandered in and out of the financial district a lot; not much to report.
I also went to Hay Market, the Queen Victoria Building and other places.
Honestly, I just kept walking.
I finally figured out how to get back to my hostel from other streets than Bathurst though, so I feel successful.
(Those who know me know I work on autopilot and have trouble understanding logical shortcuts. This applies to foreign travel as well as domestic)

Ok, time to head over to Tom's cousin's house.
So long, super fancy hostel.*
Hello, barefooted showers!

*I just realized I haven't discussed my hostel stay as of yet.
I'm staying at Base which is more like a hotel than a motel than a hostel, since they have housekeepers and real linens and complementary towels and shower gels and shampoos and vending machines and a bar attached.
But they call it a hostel so, so will I.

It's been nice but a little bit overwhelming.
I was originally on the 2nd floor and then they made a mistake and bumped me to the 4th floor which is called "the sanctuary" because it's all female.
It's got nicer sheets, so I'm not complaining.
My sanctified room had 3 Germans, 1 Yorkshire girl and another person who never spoke.

The Yorkshire girl, Emily, was cool and we got to talking about future living situations, so we'll see where that goes.
Otherwise, the hostel's been a nice place to rest my head for 2 nights.

Cheers from The Land of Oz

2009-11-22T02:00:00.000-08:00

Q: Guess who's in Sydney?
A: Me!

We flew in this morning at 8am and the flight took all of 11 hours, which isn't as long as it could've been had we flown direct from the Newer Jersey. We decided to stay out and not sleep for the flight since we had to be at the airport by 6am, which was both a great and terrible idea. Great in the sense that Hawaii is an amazing place to be, and terrible in the sense that 6am is no fun regardless of blood alcohol content level, but I assure you it is less than no fun when your BAC is not 0.

But back to my stay in Hawaii.
I'd be remiss to say that it was just fun.
It was, in fact, nothing but awesome; it may sound cliche but holy shit does that US territory rule.
Tom's friends were so hospitable I couldn't believe it and everyone I met was either cool, an ultimate frisbee* player and/or both.
Needless to say, I did a lot of cheering from the sidelines of games I didn't quite follow.
I'm so good at watching other people play sports.
I also did a lot of hiking and biking and sitting on the most beautiful beaches I've ever been to.
I love Hawaii.

*Ultimate frisbee is a sport where people chase plastic discs across fields and afterwards they drink beers and have parties.
I like to watch the players chase discs but have no real concept of how the game works.

The flight to Sydney was fine, minus the fact that there were twins of maybe 5 years old wearing identical horizontal striped shirts who had no concept of an inside voice. So that could've been better.
But really, no complaints.
We got to Sydney and all is good.

For those interested, it's currently about 41 degrees Celcius which is more or less BALLS HOT in Farenheit...roughly 102 degrees to be exact. Obviously, I love my life but am also, obviously, a little chilly.

Tomorrow starts the work/housing assistance portion of this whole experiment and I'm looking forward to that.
Who knows, maybe they have a lot of old people who need someone to tell them terrible jokes and tell them they look 25 years old?
That is my specialty.

Ok, my ability to type in full sentences is gone.
More later.

Also:
Skype me! Youmissabby.

Miss and love and OJ's glove,

El Alfajore Grande.

"Pupu" Means Delicious

2009-11-18T20:45:00.000-08:00

Well, well, well. Here we are in Honolulu.
I used the royal "we" just then because a man on the street just called me his queen.
Appropriate.

So far, I've seen beauty everywhere I've looked. Pretty good stats, no?
Went to Pipeline and stumbled upon a pro surf tourney sponsored by Reef, called the Triple Crown, but there were no horses or early bird diners.
I guess Hawaii does things differently than Queens.
Needless to say, I am now osmotically badass.
Watching professional surfers does that to you, you know.

I'm using my fancy new iPod to write this blog and so far, so good.
My only complaint is the way it auto corrects things.
Sometimes I don't want to capitalize skit. Shit. See what I mean?

Rest assured, I'm sunburnt in awkward places and I've eaten my fair share of what Hawaiian cuisine has to offer.
I tried poi last night, which was purple but did not taste like something purple.
It made my tongue itch. Apparently it does that.
I also ate some delicious shrimp from a truck on the side of the road.
My faith in street food has been restored.
Still don't trust that cart on the corner of 31st and 6th though.
No, indeed, Mr. Jaffar.

So, that's my news.
I leave for Sydney on Saturday AM and will update once I'm able.

Go Steelers, in general, and I miss and love you if you're reading this!

1 WEEEEEEEEEEEK til Blast Off

2009-11-10T16:56:00.000-08:00

Please see above.

Funny Things My Grandpa Says/Does/Thinks

2009-11-07T22:09:00.000-08:00

I'm making this list here so I can keep adding to it. It's probably not interesting to anyone reading this (not that anyone is reading this):

1. "I never buy green bananas. I never know if I'll be around to eat them when they ripen."

2. "I don't bet with money, I make mind bets, so I don't lose any money, I just slowly lose my mind."

3. Yiddish words and axioms:

-Kikum Oon which means, get a load of this guy!
-Drek treftzuch which means, shit happens.
-Azoy which means, so?
-Pisha which means, pisser.
-Mitten drinnen which means, meanwhile, down on the ranch...
-Schnorrer which means, you cheap bastard.
-Machoishek which means, you're busting my balls and I can tell.
-Gai cach affen yam which means, go take a shit in the ocean!
-Ongeblozzen which means, who died and made you holier than thou?
-Kish mich in tuches und gai in drerd arein which means, kiss my ass and go to hell!
-Vildeh choleria which means, beast of cholera! (usually said in regards to my dog)
-K'nacher which means, well aren't you a show-off? (usually said in regards to my dad when discussing coupons and other discounts)

4. Whenever he farts, he either says: "bombs away!" or "tight shoes."

5. He calls me his little sweet potato, and when I piss him off, he offers me a knuckle sangawich.

6. Instead of, "then what?" he always says, "what then?"

7. He hates the bum Mets but is their biggest fan.

8. When in doubt, baked potato

9. He's not old, he's just old-er.

10. He can throw a ball higher than anyone I've ever met/will ever meet.

11. He told me my skin would clear up just as soon as I start shaving.

12. Fred Flintstone has coined most of his expressions, including but not limited to, "yabba dabba dooooo!"

13. He doesn't play any instruments except the radio.

14. Any time you ask him what's new, he either says, "nothing, whatsoever" or "New Hampshire, New Jersey, New Mexico and New York."

15. When looking for a lady friend, whom he will unfailingly call "cook," the following requirements apply:

-must drive at night
-must leave the toilet seat UP
-no snoring
-rich
-no flatulating in bed

16. His lucky number is 6.

17. He likes to ask, "who created God?" at inopportune times.

18. He taught me to eat the entire apple because "during the Depression, you knew to enjoy your apple cores." Waste not, want not.

19. Whenever he would fight with my grandma, his go-to response was always "who's the boss!?" And she would respond, "not you!"

20. Toity-tree instead of 33.

21. "And how!"

22. He doesn't buy new shoes for the same reason as green bananas.

23. For the past 4 months, whenever he asks about my travels he asks me, "Met any rich doctors? Not witch doctors, I said! RICH doctors!" And then he laughs so hard you'd think Richard Pryor said it.

24. He eats faster than any human on Earth.

25. He is the only other person who empathizes with and understands my digestive tract.

They're on a Need-to-Know Basis

2009-11-05T11:36:00.000-08:00

In case you were wondering, yes, this is my favorite band. Ever. Observe:

www.speechwritersllc.com

Unrelatedly---12 days until blast off! EXCITED EXCITED EXCIIIIITED

Insults That Seem Like Compliments and Vice-Versa

2009-10-31T20:01:00.001-07:00

"You're like Michael Jordan, when he played baseball. You make everyone around you look better."

"He would make a really great ex-husband."

"You look like you could be a Sears model."

"I like people like you; people like you make me feel smart."

Participating in YouTube Sensationalism

2009-10-28T20:06:00.000-07:00

Check if you like me, Check if you don't

2009-10-26T04:12:00.001-07:00

A Little Less Ebb, Please

2009-10-25T21:09:00.001-07:00

"Okay, look, things ebb and flow, okay? Sometimes people are just more into it than other times. This is just how it is. But you can't stand the ebb. It feels like no ebb's allowed.

[...]

I'm sorry. I didn't mean to put it all on you. I'm sorry. It's not you, okay? I mean, it has to be something about me if you can't trust me after all these weeks or stand even just a little normal ebb and flow without always thinking I'm getting ready to leave.

[...]

Don't think this is about something wrong with you. Don't do that to yourself. It's us, us is why I'm leaving, okay?"

David Foster Wallace, come back.

Kids Say the Darndest Things

2009-10-12T08:02:00.000-07:00

stephanie: my brother is named after adam ----
did i ever tell you that?
i was 4
i was in pre-school
i was trying to impress him (adam)
stephanie: so i demanded that my parents name the baby-to-be adam
and didn't tell them why
and it grew on them
stephanie: and they finally gave in
and i went back to pre-school
and i was like, hiiiiiiii addaaaaaaammmmmmm
guess whaaattt
i have a baby brother
and his name is adam toooooooooo
stephanie: but adam ---- just rode away on his trike
but my brother's name is adam, forever
which i think is hilarious
obviously
but my brother does not think it's hilarious

And that is the story of why KidNation never took off.