You Know What My Problem Is?

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

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 from Bourke (the Outback) and that you don't have a place to stay tonight, I will refuse that drink. Being from the Outback is not a trump card.

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

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, with the lid replaced and can stuffed with paper towel to *look* like it's still full.

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

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

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

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.