The other side of the operating room

Yesterday I had the pleasure of accompanying Mr. Jacob Lewis to the ER to get a look at his shin.  For once in my life I was the one in the waiting room.  What a wonderful feeling.  My overall impression: though the healthcare here is free, the facilities are subpar and seem a bit sketchy.  The old cloth seats were stained, everything looks like its from 1980s, and the hospital seemed understaffed.  Thanks America for taking all our money and making our hospitals better. 

Since today is the first day of uni, last night we all took it easy.  This then turned to a stressful evening when we decided to watch 127 Hours.  The movie was amazing, but man was it intense.  Four out of five stars.  If you haven't seen it, watch it.

Welp I'm off to this go to some thing called school.  Haven't seen anything like it since December 13th.  This is going to be interesting.

The end of the all out fun

Getting Down on the Dance Floor

Looking Good

Last night was the last oweek party.  I was rocking double unmatching plaid, long socks, and a red star covered cowboy hat.  It was a great time.  The bar was cheap and the dancing was dirty.  I ended up leaving on the early side to partake in a kebab with my mates, a must have.  The night ended with me entering my room to find the bathroom light flickering as if it was auditioning for a horror movie.  It got the part.  When I looked down there was a huge huntsman sitting in the middle of the hallway.  I cowered like a 12 year old girl.  Luckily my Steve Irwin instincts kicked in and I caught the thing and disposed of it.  I hope I sent a message to the rest of them; my room is not the place to mess around. 

School starts tomorrow.  That's right Americans, I'm just starting school and it is almost March.  I'm telling you, down here they don't work, they don't go to school, they just sit around.  Everyone is off by four for gosh sakes.  Well, I am off to enjoy my last lax day before my real semester abroad begins.  Hope it's as fun as this last week has been.

Party Safe

I would like to give a shout out to the wonderful safety hazards taken by the University of Wollongong.  Being the virtually everyone at uni is of drinking age they have come up with special rules of engagement for all those who choose to partake in the consumption of alcoholic beverages.  #1 No glass. A simple yet elegant rule that keeps people from being cut with glass.  I have no problem with this rule.  #2 No drinking games.  Taking fun out of drinking since 1975.  I guess if the uni wants us to merely look each other in the eye and skull (chug) every drink poured, they are on the right track.  Finally, #3 No drinking in groups larger than nine.  What? Nine?  Who the hell came up with that number?  Well I guess eight people is easy to keep under control, while ten will start a mild riot.  Bravo to whatever genius came up with that rule.  I would also like to make a shout out to the lady handing out the reprimands (which was received for our drinking game which we were playing with glass cups in a group of 15, oops).  Her words to Jacob, Ant, and Drew: "You should feel ashamed for ruining the American's experience at this university.  Do you really want them to have a bad time?"  This lady gets out a lot obviously. 

The past two nights have been all over the place, but all a great time.  First it was a night of mistakes when all of us missed the last bus to the bar.  This turned into a bigger mistake when the people that went down town were refused entry into the bar because of a two hour wait.  Even this was only topped by the acrobatic Jacob running into a raised cement man hole, resulting in a large gash on his shin that bled for a day.  As usual it still ended up as a fun night in 132.
Disclaimer: A large pizza here is a medium in the states and costs $18AUD. 
Last night was a grandpa night of oweek that included the always entertaining apples to apples and a game like charades but with three different rounds of various ways of describing the person.  Sam Wade is murderous at that game.

Tonight is the last party of oweek.  I'm sure it will end on a bang.  Its a versace and something party at a new bar.  That's about all I know. 

The wonderful Anthea has begun the arduous task of teaching me to play guitar.  She is simply amazing with anything musical.  Here is her website for anyone that wants to see what I'm up against.  http://www.triplejunearthed.com/AntheaJirgens

She is the next big thing I am telling you.

Well I'm off to dinner.  Imagine dorm food where every single piece of bacon costs money.  It's a nightmare.  Don't be surprised if I come home looking like a skeleton. 

Miss Colorado and everyone in it.

Getting Classy

Got to end the night with a Kebab

      I don't know why my luck has been this bad so far, but my first "classy at glassy" experience can only be highlighted by the thing that tainted it.  Another gay experience.  I don't know why it is, but my luck with girls is shit, while I am getting approached by gay dudes right and left.  This time I was conned into a hand shake, that led to be being jerked into the guy while he went right for the lips.  Thank God for my cat like reflexes.  I was able to jerk left and manage only receiving a kiss on the cheek.  I then ran for my life.  After that, the bar was ruined for me, only being topped by 20 minute drink lines.  Glass house, you get an epic fail for the night.
      After glassy we made the decision to go to castros, the late night bar.  A dark room lit only by raging strobe lights and disco balls and shrowded in fog, and I mean a ton of fog.  I felt like a fireman in a burning building.  Between that and the $7 beers, Castros also receives an epic fail.  On the whole it was still a great evening.  The group we having going here is nothing but loads of fun and entertainment all night long.  I love this place and all these great people are making it one of the best times of my life.  They are even able to turn a night like that into heaps of fun.  You guys are awesome.
     Today was highlighted by our visit to north beach.  A place outlined by gigantic condos and tiny shops.  There is some serious money there.  The water was crystal clear and there was not a cloud in sight, A perfect beach day. 
      I also have to mention an incidence at uni.  As I was walking to one of the buildings, I heard a loud thud about five feet from me.  A small parrot, or what looked like that, had fallen maybe thirty feet from a tree and landed right on its back, dead.  It was hilarious.  
     Out again tonight at illowara.  Hoping to get hit on by a girl tonight.

My Lack of Stories

Pre-drinks

Bus ride to the first pub

One of the pubs (don't remember)

Outside the Grand

Ivory

In my life I have come to find that to remember a good story, you have to not drink past your limits.  That being the case, I have a limited amount to blog about.  However, what I do remember is amazing.  First off, I got to experience my first keriokee bar.  Luckily it was only the second bar, so I hadn't have enough liquid courage to climb atop the stage.  Topping the keriokee bar was when my lips met what is sure to be the best drunk food my taste buds have ever had the pleasure of contacting.  That my friends, is the cabab.  A fluffy flour tortilla crammed with all the meat, lettuce, onions, and god knows what else coming together to form a river of juices that cascade down your arm and into your awaiting lap.  It's fricken awesome, and one of the major drunk foods that America didn't get right.  I came to meet my friend the cabab between the third and fourth bar, well into the drinking.  However after this, the night took a negative turn.  First I came in contact with an American girl on the dance floor.  See in Australia, there is no bumping and grinding.  The common term of "getting low" is unheard of (shout out to alyssa, cassie, jack, and the fucking weird crew).  It is an understatement saying that I was caught off guard when this girls gigantic rump hit me right in the chest.  But somehow in my drunken state, I rode that ass like a bronco.  Hilarious.  Then came a scary moment in my life.  A time when I felt the vulnerability of a tiny drunk girl.  I was led to the bar, hand in hand, by a large swedish man.  When I say hand in hand, I mean fingers laced.  Did I have any choice but to follow? Not with that vice grip.  He proceeded to buy me a drink.  Fucking right I took it.  It was more than just a free drink though.  It was an opportunity to broaden my horizons into that of a woman being hit on by a creepy guy.  I have a new found sympathy for every girl out there that has gone through the experience.  I now agree.  Take the drink.  Bars are too expensive.  After this the night is quite hazy.  A dark bus ride home.  A long walk up the stairs with the soft support of a cement wall.  Goon is a wonderful thing....until the next day.  With that as the drink of choice, many classes are going to be missed.  All in all, my first pub crawl was a success.

The Sun

Some good old heat rash

Holy hell...wait, Hell doesn't even describe the heat of this land.  It goes without saying, but I am white as a polar bear.  Down under, I'm as red as a lobster.  Four days in and I have come to find that any spot I miss with my spf 50 sunscreen turns to a rosey red in half an hour.  Damn this skin of mine. 

Yesterday was my first pub experience.  Imagine a boulder basement with people shoulder to shoulder dancing the night away....now take the heat of that basement and multiply it by three.  Like I said, this place is hot.  The bar we were at transformed from a middle of no where vegas joint to a uni get together in about 15 minutes.  The smell of old people and smoke lingered around the joint.  Despite this, greyhound racing is the shit.  Those dogs are bad ass, and betting on them is some serious fun.  Tonight I will get a feel of my second Australian bar, and the next day is the pub crawl where I will see the rest. 

Not only are the Australians awesome down here, but there are a huge amount of international students.  I have met kids from England, Germany, France, Switzerland, Pakistan, Iran, Canada, South Africa, Singapore, Sweden, and Norway amoung others.  The U.S. is lacking some serious international traffic.  These people are so cool and all about their countries.  I can't wait to meet more of them. 

Well the night nears.  We will see how it goes.

Full Moon Festival

Imagine a world where everyone around you is hammered......and playing with fire.  Welcome to the full moon festival.  A place where any drunk ass hole can ask their fellow drunk fire twirler for a go.  These people were ridiculous.  I witnessed a drunk girl continuously swing two fire balls attached to ropes inches from her face and repeatedly into her legs and arms.  If the fire wasn't enought you could look around for other forms of entertainment.  Choose between people banging on the beach, rhythmic nonsense of random banging of pots and pans, or the classic drunk rain dance.  Needless to say I was in awe of my surroundings. 

Another wonderful attraction I have learned about is Puckeys.  This is the place where old men come to have sex in the woods in the middle of the night.  It is conveniently located right along the path to get to the beach.  Walking past this with even a group of people is, needless to say, scary as hell.  I can't think of any place back home where everyone tells you the there is not question of the impending rape if you happen to wonder into the area.  This is one difference that I hope stays consistent. 

Today is the start of oweek.  The school sponsored orientation of getting fucked up for a week.  Thanks UOW.  I look forward of the stories to come.

Day 2

Well you know that moment I was referring to.  The bomb drop of being thousands of miles from anything you know.  Ya that hit.  One moment I was in the plane eyeing the endless sea of blue, and the next moment I caught my first glimpse of a land full of speedo's and poisonous creatures.  That was when the great migration of monarch butterflies occured in my stomach.  Holy shit what did I get myself into?  So far the landscape is a mixture of Florida and Hawaii.  It's hot and humid as hell.  On the plane I talked to a mammoth of a man (outlaw biker status) who said, "No matter where you go, in some way you will be reminded of home." He was right.  The people are all very friendly, though sometimes I have to stop and say, "What the hell did you just ask me?"  Some of the lingo is just too much.  The fashion sense is well.....very bro.  Some of the shorts these guys wear are Daisy Duke status.  It's really quite funny.  I'll be sticking to my own culture when it comes to the shorts.  I've been told to watch out for the "Lads".  They are identifiable by their white nike dry fit hats and ralph polo shirts.  Very intimidating as you can tell.  Comparable to the crips and bloods of the U.S.........The dorms here are just like freshman year exept outside and a little bigger.  One of my roommates is a local named Steve.  He is your typical 120lb. freshman but he is a nice guy.  I did however come back to my room and find him straightening his bangs.  Don't ask me how I kept a straight face.  I'm not one to judge but that is just not my style.  Neither are the 5 sprays of colonge.  At least our hall will smell nice.  My other roommate remains at home for now.  The best part of campus east (my dorm area) is the fact that it is about a 5 minute walk from the beach.  The coast is endless and littered with little blue jellyfish.  About 500 yards from where we enter the beach there is a cement pool filled by the crashing waves; however it is full of overweight men in undersized speedos.  I guess nothing is perfect.  For now I remain scared as hell but hopefully in a week I'll be settled in.  As I've been continuously told, let the drinking of oweek commence.

The start of it...

Considering I'm sitting a mile high, slouched in one of those sticky pleather chairs at DIA, I am not sure if this first blog constitutes the start.  The trip has yet to hit me.  There has been no light bulb moment, no jump start in my heart.  It all seems so surreal.  As if I'm going to wake up tomorrow in my makeshift bed that sits on the floor of my parents guest room.  The place where I have continuously woken up and asked myself what the heck am I doing.  The place where I have been counting down the days to this pending life changing experience.  But at this point it's as if I have forgotten what I was waiting for.  Maybe walking out of that Sydney bound plane will where the avalanche of realization will engulf my brain.  We will just have to see...