Everythings Better Fuzzy

I just came back from spending the weekend in the Australian wine country with two friends from Uni and a husband (not mine). If it were the only fun thing that I'd done the whole time that I was in Australia, it would have made the trip completely worth it. That's just how good it was.

You must remember that we're going into winter down here, so the weather is very touch and go, usually tending towards chilly, grey and rainy. But this weekend it was, god bless it, warm and sunny and clear and just perfect. It was also the annual "Lovedale Long Lunch" in Hunter Valley, which is a festival where the wineries in Lovedale hire in chefs and bands and tents and so forth, and serve gourmet lunches, desserts and local cheese platters from 10:00--4:00. Oh, and wine. And then you just drive from one to the next, eating, drinking, dancing and generally being merry.

So early Sunday morning my friends came by and picked me up in the rented "no birds" Toyota, and we set out for the country. For travel music I contributed some of the CDs I've been sent by friends since I've been here (Matisyahu was a big hit with the Israelis, by the way)-- so in a way you were all here with me on my trip. And then we hit the road. Two coffee breaks and a conference with a motorcycle gang later (directions were needed) and we were there...

The rest I can't even describe except to say that it was amazing. We found the best vineyards, the best gardens, the best restaurants, everything. We made friends with one of the musicians (www.stevenjaymes.com), we met umpa lumpas (little drunk vineyard girls), we ran into little Bopping (from Bopping&Bopping-- long story), had a breakfast of wine and cheese and grapes and local jam, frolicked in the vineyards and danced around hay bales. It just couldn't have been better.

So to end, here's a picture of Hunter Valley, someplace in Australia that totally rocks:

Good Times

I had the loveliest weekend imaginable. On Thursday night I went to the Opera House to watch the Australian Ballet Company perform "Giselle", which was amazing (and only $25 AUD), and then went to a salsa club with a few folks from Uni. On Friday afternoon I went to the lovely "going away" party thrown for me by my legal centre, where ironically I had really interesting first time conversations with people who I never got a chance to talk to while I was actually working there. That evening I went out for mellow drinks with a couple of friends at this bar that I really like, and laughed up a storm (I also did the eye trick, which surprisingly did not get me any dates ;-)

On Saturday I went to the Taronga Zoo, from which there are spectacular views of the city from across the Harbour. That night I went out to this really fun Mexican restaurant with some friends (and the "hot aussie guy" from my business law class), and then out dancing in Kings Cross until the wee hours of the morning. Sunday afternoon I went to a classmate's birthday get-together at a really nice upscale bar on Darling Harbour, and the weather was totally generous and gave us warmth and sun and just perfection in temperature, so we were able to sit outside for like 4 hours. Even though I only planned to stay for an hour to two, I wound up staying for more than six, going to dinner and then out for a late beer. On the way home I ran into a girl that I'd met a few weeks ago, and she treated me for coffee, which was a super pleasant surprise.

And then this morning I got some really nice emails, including one from my favorite professor, which just topped things off. Oh, and my mom told me how wonderful I was and how I was such a good daughter, which never hurts.

Have you ever had one of these things? Where there are just like a bunch of great, chill, unexpected days in a row, and you're just really thankful? I really like it when it happens, especially (strangely) when it happens not-in-summer. That's probably odd, but I just feel like it happens more often in summer, so when you get good weather, good company, good activity days in the dusk of autumn, it's even more great.

So here's a view to leave you with (of Sydney skyline from the North Shore)--

Jumping the Shark

I'm not sure if I've mentioned this yet, but my roommate has officially turned out to be an insane, sociopathic maybe-one-day killer. I don't know how I always manage to find these people and wind up living with them, but I guess that its just the curse of being completely impartial to most people-- I apparently miss a lot of important intuitive-like things.

I won't give the whole story since it's too long, but here's the short version. When I moved in here I gave her one month's rent in bond. Come two weeks ago I started to feel strongly that she wouldn't have it to give back when it was time for me to go, and that she would therefore leave me completely screwed. So I said that we should talk about me perhaps living out my bond, or alternatively, that she should give me some reassurance that it would be there come June 15. She then, in short, freaked out. And then told me that I had to leave and that I was evicted. Confused and befuddled I said that maybe we should leave the conversation for the time being, because her reaction was incomprehensible to me, and I'm not good with dealing with people when they exhibit special needs. The next morning I woke up and she called the police on me to "evict" me. Can you believe it?

Long story short, they brought us to the leasing agent office (in the copper), where it quickly became clear that things weren't going to go well for her. Turns out that besides overcharging me in rent, she was also breaking like 5 other laws. After hours of drama I was refunded almost 1000 bucks, and was told what I could do if she got out of line again (the results of which would be to get her kicked out of her house and possibly out of the country). So the ending was the best that it could have been when dealing with an insane person.

Do you know what else is insane? Seeing a baby kangaroo stick its little head and hands out of the mom's pouch (and it's apparently very rare to see it). Check it out.



By the way, my crazy, lying, cheating, thief of a roommates name is Polina Kuchina. Just in case any prospective tenant is googling her right now. Is that mean?

You Love Em

Aren't these the cutest things that you've ever seen?!?! They're native to Australia, the Meerkat, and nobody makes them do this! They do it all by themselves to look big and tough. And they're just so small and darling!!! Don't you just love them?!!? You do! I know you do!

Oh, by the way-- they are absolutely the foulest smelling things on earth. Hideous. Vomiteous. Anorexia-causing. Do you still love 'em? If so, I'll make sure to bring one home for you.

If Only Everything Could Be This Easy

So I got really tired of my job last week, which just shows the schizo nature of the human personality, or at least of my personality. For the first 2 weeks that I was here I desperately wanted to start working so that I would have something to do, someplace to go, more people to meet. Seven weeks later and I feel like I need fewer things taking up my time, desperately need to cut out the annoying train ride to the office, and that there's not enough turnover in the staff.

So I've been discussing with people how to go about quitting, especially considering that I was a strange hire and have been there for less than 2 months. And of course the issue that I wanted to leave on very good terms. So I'm doing this whole angst thing, and I'm running lines and staying on top of probable scenarios and all that stuff. I'm going to explain how I have to focus on my essays and exams, and how I think that having finished my big project and only being here for another 3-4 real weeks it would be strange for me to start something new, and how I really appreciate everything and how this has been such a central part of my experience here, etc...

So I get to work and write up my final report on the project that I've been working on, and turn it in to the boss. We sit down and talk through it, she thinks it's great, awesome, tremendous, yada yada yada. Now I'm buckling down to run my now well-practiced lines, when she says, "Do you want a new project? Oh probably not, right? You have exams soon? That would be asking for too much, for something else, huh? Maybe something little? Oh no, because then you might get bogged down. No, you'd prefer not to start something else, right?" All in one breath. And then she gets down to the nitty gritty-- how to cite my work on the website, when I'm free for a going away party...and then it's over. I'm out the door, never to be seen again (until the party on Friday).

Easy peasy. What a relief.

Ow

So today, on the way home from the library (where I've managed not to do a speck of work, but did accept two invitations to go out to coffee, once when I was already holding a cup of coffee) I fell down. Twice.

Now I can point out all of the things that people point out when they fall-- it was raining and slick, I was walking down a steep incline (decline?), my shoes were not weather appropriate, having been put on during the sunny early hours of the day. But all of that won't help, because the fact is that I fell. Comically. Repeatedly.

My feet slipped out from under me, causing me to plonk on my ass. I then got up and over-compensated, which caused my feet to slip out from under me the other way, leading to me to falling forward no less than 5 steps later.

There was a car driving up the street while all of this was happening, and he stopped, surely thinking that I was drunk or having some sort of seizure. Which in a way would have been better, because at least it would have been an explanation. But instead I had to wave and say, "I'm okay" and then run away in embarrassment because he just sat there looking confused, and disbelieving. Okay, I didn't run (because 3 falls starts to look 70's sitcomish) but I walked quickly away, head hung low.

My apologies

Goodness.

It turns out that its quite hard to blog when you've got anything else to do in your life (no offense to those constant bloggers, who are obviously just better at time management than me). The last 5 weeks of the semester are upon me, and I have 3 research essays to write, none of which I've started. Combine that with the job and I'm getting a little nervous, and as such my blogging has fallen off. Which I apologize for.

On the other hand (since I have that psychological thing where you always try to turn the blame on other people), your reading has also fallen off. Even before I stopped posting daily. So we're both a little at fault here, I'd say.

Oh, and I've also been a little distrated by the fact that my flatmate has officially turned the corner into sociopathy, but that's a whole nother story, too crazy to even blog about, I think. Or maybe just too convoluted. And as with much of life's high drama-- you know, the kind of stuff taht keeps you up at night thinking about what you have to do next, that finds you plotting out potential converstaions to yourself that never happen, that kind of thing-- now that it's seemingly over, I'm over it.

But back to the subject. As a token of my desire for forgiveness, I give you two old postings that I never published. They are contridictory I know, but like life, they are true.

Single, Young, Free and In Bed by 10

So I've decided that I won't be going out anymore while I'm in Sydney. That I'll save it all for London. And absent a change in circumstances, with very few exceptions, this is what I think'll happen. Why, you might be wondering?

Well the first reason is because the clubs here suck butt, and every time that I've gone out it hasn't really been my brand of fun. The people who I've been out with seem to have had a great time, but me... well, I've had better times watching Sundra do the toothbrushing dance in my apartment.

But there's also another reason: Australians are fairly angry people when it comes to foreigners in general and to non-Asian foreigners in particular. So far it's been a complete non-issue for me, but that doesn't mean that I'm dense enough to think that it couldn't become an issue. Now combine this with the fact that Australians are heavy, early, and disgruntled drinkers (think British), and I think that you have a recipe for disaster. Further add to that my particular temperament, and you have a recipe for an international incident. Or at least a potential recipe for potential international catastrophe. I met a girl at school that told me that she was once slapped by a stranger in a bar without notice or comment. She turned the other cheek (literally). She's a better person than I (or me :).

And so far every night that I've been out here has ended with at least one full-fledged fist fight. The Aussies tell me that it's common to catch half a dozen street fights on a weekend night, more if you're in Kings Cross. And while I love violence as much as the next urban black, this is even too much for me. I mean, once you have more club-closing bar brawls than Atlanta, you've crossed a line.

So I'll stick with drinking with the Internationals and an occasional visit to the Salsa club, which is one of the few exceptions to my rule. And it's my exception because it's, like, Sydney's exception for nightlife. I went there and it was like midday at the U.N., only a little bit gayer, so let's say like a Benetton ad. Or hell, like midnight at the U.N. But it was the most colorful thing since my grade school in Hyde Park (you should see my 7th grade class picture-- not a straight white man in sight). And I found out where all the Blacks and Latinos are. They're out doing the un-forbidden dance.

So when I come back you'll notice two things about me: One, I've got no particularly hard feelings against the Aussies (which it turns out that the slapped girl does); And two, I know one more ballroom dance than you.

… If You Don’t See That Person, Then It’s You.

Have you ever heard a version of this? Let’s say that 1 in 5 people have herpes. If you’re in a room with 4 people, and you look to your left and your right at all the people in that room and don’t see one with herpes, then the person with the gift (that keeps on giving) is probably you.

Okay, so that was a sloppy telling, but I’m sure that you’ve heard it before. About the guy that smells, or the ugly girl in the group, or whatever. But recently I’ve been looking to the left and the right, and haven’t seen anyone, so I suspect that it’s me…

And what have I been looking for? The limiting fun factor. Because so far, there have been two— count ‘em — two occasions when I’ve chosen not to go out and have subsequently heard the unfortunate phrase, “you should have come— we had the most fun ever!”, or some variation thereof. And I’ve gone out and had a discernable amount of fun, and even a bit of fun, maybe even (just plain) fun, but certainly have not had the most fun ever. Not here, not yet.

But it’s the same group of people, the same type of places, and the same approximate times. Which is starting to make me think that it might be me. The import of this? There are three choices as I see it: If I’m altruistic, I’ll start not going out more. If I’m a denier, I’ll continue going out the way I have and just presume that it’s something (or someone) else. But if I’m an aspirant, then I’ll try to make myself fun-er.

Although most of you know what you’d chose in the circumstances, I haven’t decided yet. Because, you know, there could just be 2 herpetics in the next room. And so it might not be about me at all.

This Ain't Seaworld Folks

By the way, I saw some dolphins...and I finally reached the level of dumbness that is the zen point-- my stupid was so profound that it actually went full circle and met the point of genius. While other people were watching for dolphins I, like a New Yorker, was drinking beer and scanning The Economist while sunning on a deck chair. Get exciting about big fish? Puh-leese. I've seen the biggest skyscrapers in the world, folks. Just tell me when they get here, I'll snap a few photos, then back to this comfy chair and witty political commentary. Oh, and another Hahn's, when you get a chance.

So when the dolphins actually showed up, I was totally unprepared, but luckily positioned (my chair was out of the way of the giddy family spectators, but it happened to be right about the place where the dolphins surfaced). So I jumped up frantically and pulled out my camera, turned it on, and tried to take a picture. Which didn't work. And then they were gone.

So I looked down at my camera and realized that in my total unpreparedness I has accidentally pushed the switch to the video mode instead of photo. And so miraculously I had just gotten a video of a pair of full grown dolphins jumping in tandem. Which, just so you know, basically made me the most popular person on the boat. And I ain't giddy, and I'm usually not into such types of entertainment, but it is cool as shit, I must say.

Uh oh-- right now Blogger is giving me problems with uploading the .avi file for the video, so here are a couple of pictures.