MARDI GRAS!!!

It’s a different vibe in Sydney during Mardi Gras than in New Orleans or at Carnivale or other cool places with massive festivals and topless women. In Sydney, you’re much more likely to run into men wearing nothing but a g-string. Because in Sydney Mardi Gras is known as a homosexual festival, with a huge parade on Oxford Street and general insanity ensuing throughout the city. But everyone dresses really crazy, with special fondness for feather boas, regardless of sexual orientation, and has a blast. It’s just a huge party! My personal favorite sight was the Surf Lifesaving float, with a bunch of dancing men in speedos and surfie caps (I have one of those caps!). Or possibly the group of drag queens dressed as different incarnations of Kylie Minogue.

But we left the parade and followed a bunch of people to the other side of the city. They chose an outrageously expensive restaurant, and me and my flatmate Adam, Yuki from across the hall and Anne-Marie from the next building decided to find a McDonald's. We were feeling the urge to be as stereotypically American as possible. And it was a mission to find one! We walked all the way back to where we were! But it was yummy. And really cheap, which was nice.

We eventually met up with my other flatmates Doriana and Phil (and a few other people), by way of a pub by the Maccas, at a club where we danced until after the last bus left the station. We left the club at 4 a.m.! After hobbling back to QVB, we realized that the last bus left at 3:20 a.m. on Saturday nights (why there wasn’t special accommodation for the special event I have no clue). The city was still almost as crowded at 4 a.m. as it was at midnight, although we got away from Oxford Street to avoid the bulk of the crowds. So we called two cabs (there were eight of us) to split back to campus. Only one showed, and then the others thought we could get a free ride, so I hopped in a cab with Adam, Yuki and Anne-Marie and got back to the apartment at about 5 a.m. Turns out, the others ended up waiting at QVD for the 7 a.m. bus (honestly, I’d have rather waited for the bus and saved the money). But the cab was about A$40, which isn’t too bad split among 4 people.

I should also mention that me and my roomies FOUND A$280 Friday night. We were walking from the bar at the Rocks (which is the oldest part of Sydney and has some wicked cool pubs) to the bus stop at QVB and found a garter belt stuffed with money. We didn’t count it that night, but in the morning we were really excited. For the record, we did attempt to find the owner, but there was literally no one around. So we dubbed it the “hooker money” and bought drinks with it all night for Mardi Gras, and spent it on the cab ride home. We still have a fair bit of it left, so we’ll most likely either split it or save it for next weekend. Or Wednesday night. Whatever.

I know that I’ve been mostly writing about parties and pubs and clubs and drinking and having fun (which I am, by the way) but it’s really not as terrible as I make it seem. I do have uni stuff, I’m freaking out about one of my classes (it’s a magazine feature writing class and I am a terrible reporter and the professor is making us have our sources sign a permission slip and they had to explain the inverted pyramid to these kids on the first day of class and it just leaves me with a small rock in the pit of my stomach etc. etc.). And my internship starts next week. And it’s been raining for the past two days, and it’s actually kind of cold here today. But it is mostly wonderful. But I am not always partying it up. Just most of the time.

Adventures in finding one's way around

We had a bit of an adventure last Saturday night, trying to find a proper club in which to get our groove on. We started at QVB in the heart of the City, and walked to Chinatown for dinner. After wandering for a bit, we ended up having a really nice dinner at a place where only the patrons spoke English. But the Mongolian beef was amazing, even if they charged us about A$3 per person for white rice.

We had heard that the place to be on Saturday Nights is Oxford St, and being brave Americans (and Japanese and German, as the case may be) we decide to walk. Which really is a good idea. Unless you're wearing the heels I was wearing. Can you say blisters? But I managed to survive most of the night until the very end when I was walking on rough pavement screaming expletives in the hopes it would stop the burning in my feet. Anyhow, we made it to Oxford St. to find that while it really is the place to be, it wasn't exactly what we were looking for (what is electrofunk, anyway?). While we were wandering about, this guy and his mate stops us and asks if we need directions. He was also a North American and said we sounded like recent transplants. He didn't know much about dancing clubs, but could help us out if we were looking for a cool bar (which after walking from Chinatown, a bar wouldn't hurt). So we had a drink with them at a cool place called Velvet.

We did ask around a bit, and found that George St. was really the place to be for our kind of club (in case you were wondering, we were looking for hip-hop music) so after saying good-bye to our bar guides, we hopped a bus (the driver was nice enough to not make us pay because that would've held up traffic) and landed back at Market & George. And you better believe we found a place to be. And paid heavily for it! The cover was a bit pricey but it was cool. A little hip-hop, a little retro, nice and dark and crowded. It was awesome. No joke. Danced for hours. Until my feet felt like they were on fire.

And that was my evening clubbing in the city. It's been a lot more chill this week. Everyone started classes, and so far I've had a grand total of ONE class. My internship interview went well, though. The internship coordinator gave me a lift to the the interview. I've actually been staring at the Sydney public transport website trying to figure out how to get there on my own steam. There's a bus involved, but then I think I have to walk about a kilometre to get to the actual work (which stinks cos I'm lazy). I know that the only way to do it is to just go and find it but it's a little intimidating. And I prefer to be prepared.

Oh, it's Mardi Gras this weekend! We're going into the city for the parade! And the monstrous party they hold afterward. It's one of the largest Mardi Gras in the world (I think it's behind Rio, somewhere in France and of course, New Orleans).

I was going to go to Manly beach today, but they kept on forecasting rain and it's only now starting to get cloudy. Perhaps tomorrow after my SECOND class. But, I got my hair chopped off instead of going to the beach. And I do mean chopped. Oh, the mystery!

I WON A TRIP!!!!!

I won a free trip!!!! Because I kicked a Weet-Bix's ass in a contest at my orientation. And Weet-Bix, without milk, is like chewing sawdust. So, I get to either go north to Byron Bay for surfing and Gold Coast and beaches, or southwest to Melbourne and culture and all that jazz. I want to do both but know I really can't. But still, FREE TRIP. (Katy- do you still want to go to Melbourne when you're here, because if you do I'll take Byron Bay.)

So, the international party was last night. MQ (that's short for Macquarie University) bused us all to Darling Harbour and rented out an entire night club/bar and had really cheap drinks. It was really a cool bar and a really nice location. I mean, right on the Harbour. Seriously. But my flatmates and I decided that we wanted to meet some other people, not just international students (I live in Americaville) so we met up with a pub crawl that another residence was putting on. A residence with actual Australians in it. We only actually crawled to one pub, Sweeney's, but it had a "Roof Beer Garden" and cheap (for Australia) pitchers of beer. The good stuff too! I had a leetle too much to drink, but so had everyone. And by the end of the night we were chatting with the bartender, who was off-duty, about all the problems in the U.S. and the Dick Cheney visit (he's in Sydney. Good thing you can't have guns here. He may shoot someone in the face again).

And then we hopped a bus back to campus, and were promptly scared by a massive spider in our bathroom. But I'm currently peeling one of my flatmates, Adam, off the floor because he's really hungover. I woke up a bit early and have been chugging water for about two hours so I feel much better. My other flatmate, Phil, wants to go clubbing tonight, while Doriana is sick with a sinus infection. So, we'll see.

I WON A FREE TRIP!!! HA!

They tell you what way to look

I have a problem that will probably get me killed. I look the wrong way when crossing the street. Like I said, it’s a problem. But the cool thing is, when you go into the City, they have which way to look painted right on the pavement. They’ve thought of everything! It’s a very handy thing.

I had the most amazing day EVER yesterday. One of those days that are so wonderful and perfect that they can’t be real because real life never works out this well. It starts with a mission to find the Opera House. My new friend, Charlotte (please note, all my friends are technically new friends) and I took a bus into the city and got terribly lost after getting off at QVB, which is the Queen Victoria Building when you’re not on public transportation. It’s this old building that they converted into a shopping center. It’s nice. But we were looking for the Opera House and I took us in the wrong direction, so we gave up and decided to go to Bondi Beach.

Turns out that finding the bus stop from where the bus to Bondi leaves from is a bit of a mission. We asked about three people for directions, and in Sydney you really don’t need a map as long as you’re willing to ask locals, and hopped a bus to Bondi. Bondi is awesome. There couldn’t possibly be a better place to body surf, or surf for that matter. I think all the waves were perfect. Charlotte and I met up with Yuki and Fiona, who live across the hall from me in my building. Yuki and I then took up body surfing.

When I first caught a wave, and I mean really catching a wave, not just letting it push me along a bit, It was an amazing feeling. It was exhausting. But so cool and so fun. Yuki said that Japanese people don’t play in the water, they just sit on intertubes and float. I had to teach her to catch waves. She was fascinated by the boogie boards! I missed the ocean and the surf. It was great to be back. Fiona and Charlotte didn’t come in the water, but by around 5 pm the sun had mysteriously disappeared and we decided to head back to the city and actually find the Opera House.

We took a bus to Circular Quay (Quay is pronounced “key” in case you were wondering). It’s as beautiful as I remember. Awesome. Cool. Like I said, I was a bit excited. I don’t know how this could ever get old. Sydney is so surreal and beautiful, but at the same time so grounded and real.

My final flatmate arrived! He goes to the same school as my other two roomies, but he’s cool. We’re watching and poking a bit of fun at Neighbors right now. I think he really likes it! I couldn’t get into it four years ago, so I doubt I really will now. We finally went grocery shopping! We have lots of food! I can even cook tonight. I’m going on the more official City tour tomorrow, which if nothing else will save money on public transportation.

Oh, and I may have crashed a party at one of the residential colleges on campus. I feel like I’ve been stuck in quarantine with a bunch of my own countrymen. It’s like Americaville around here and I wanted to meet some Australians! But I think it’s going to work out. My understanding is that there’s some wicked parties.

In case you haven’t noticed, I like it here.

Flatmates, Ants, Tim-tams, etc.

I made it!

I'm having some Internet issues (and a few minor flatmate issues) but other than that, this is so freakin' cool! I went into the city yesterday and it was just as beautiful as I remember. More beautiful, even. Sydney has this amazing blend of modern and traditional architecture, and it's so clean and sunny and wonderful that it doesn't seem like it could possibly be real.

My apartment is all too real, though. It's not horrible. It's got carpet and a washer/dryer and a dish machine and I got the best room with two windows, it's just a little bare. Shawshank, if you will. And I like my flatmates, they're very nice, but they're a little negative about the Aussie experience and they complain about it. If it's not the prices (things are expensive, the Australian dollar is very strong right now!), it's the accents they can't understand, or that they can't find Clorox wipes, or how people look at them funny when they hear them talk, or how hot it is (uh, SUMMER!) or the television programming is horrible and so on and so forth. I'm really hoping that it's the jetlag and a bit of culture shock and they'll get over it. I can't take this for 6 months! It's just such a downer.

I will say that they're right about one thing: we have an ant problem in out kitchen. So, I'm off to buy ant traps. No worries.

It probably doesn't help that I'm super-excited about everything. It feels really natural to be here, even if it still feels like a dream. It's a strange feeling.

So after subsisting on two packets of Tim-Tams and a large bar of Cadbury chocolate with hazelnuts for a day and a half, I bought some real food. OK, happy Mom?

But here's the major bummer: I can't watch Grey's Anatomy online!! I am freaking out! I mean, the third season starts here tonight, but the last episode I watched was a pseudo-cliffhanger (seriously, like Meredith is really going to drown) and this is killing me! But that's really the only thing that's bothersome. Classes start next Monday, and I've got orientation on Friday so I've got a few days to kill bumming around the beaches. And don't think I won't!

International Travel, 24-Style

Louisville, 3:43 p.m. EST Finally sitting at the gate, waiting for my boarding call. The wait yesterday was horrible. Of course, this morning I awoke to “I think your flight’s been canceled” from my mom. So I yelled at an automated voice system at the airline, and then found out my mom had looked up the wrong flight number. So here I am. Waiting. But this isn’t so bad. Now, all I have to do is get to Sydney. Everything else is in place.

Chicago, 4:50 p.m. CST. I made it to Chicago!!!! Triumph!! Now, if I definitely make this connection (which I will) I will be on my way to San Francisco, and then to Sydney. I think my flight is about an hour delayed (according to the boards) so I’ll be here for about three hours. I’m currently sitting right outside the concourse bar on the floor, because it was the only electrical outlet I could find in this place! People are looking at me a little funny, but I don’t really care all that much. I refuse to deplete my laptop’s battery when there is power to be had in the terminal. I think I’m the only one in this place without a rolly carry on bag. I do have two of them, but they’re both checked to Sydney. I think I’ll have a drink when I get to San Francisco, because I can. That’s the fun part of being 21-- I can drink anywhere at anytime. Which may lead to a little unnecessary expenditures, but the drinking age is 18 in Australia so it’s not like it’s novel to them. No, I am not an alcoholic.

7:48 pm CST I think I’m going to puke. My flight’s been delayed, and it’s looking likely that I’m going to miss my connection in Sydney. Shit. Fuck. I’m going to murder someone. After I puke. The good news is that I’m going to make it to San Francisco tonight. I don’t know if they’ll hold my Sydney connection. There may be a later flight, but perhaps not. And if I miss my flight, then, well, at least I’ll be closer than I was before. Like I said, I still may puke.

The Pacific Ocean 4 a.m. CST, 9 p.m. AST-- So I’ve been on the flight to Sydney for over two hours now. I’m sitting next to some pretty cool cats. The kid on the aisle is from Chicago, and usually goes to Univ. of Michigan (that’s my hometown!!!) and the bloke next to me is going home to Melbourne after traveling the world for a year. We barely made this flight by the skin of our teeth. They did hold it for us, coming from Chicago to San Francisco, and we were the first off the plane and then drug into the dungeons of the airport, onto a shuttle, up an elevator, through the international wing of the airport, and onto the plane. We delayed this flight by over an hour! There were about 30 of us making this run, and you better believe that I was going on ahead of the crowd. I didn’t want to risk being left in San Francisco!

What is amazing is how many people on this flight are Americans studying in Australia this semester. I’ve counted at least 10, and there’s probably more that I haven’t chatted with yet. Not everyone is going to Macquarie. But that’s cool. I’m excited. It really, maybe, just perhaps, is going to happen. Finally, the travel Gods are smiling on me!!

Sydney 7:05 a.m. AST Landing in about a half hour. Watching an episode of Grey’s Anatomy. I’m looking forward to standing up, and sticking on my flip flops. Of course, customs currently stands in the way of all that. It’s been a long night, but worth every minute. I hope. I really really hope.

7:15 a.m. AST- Check this out: LAND AHOY!!!

Delayed

I hate blizzards. No joke. Big Blizzard in Chicago = Erin goes to Sydney TOMORROW. I should be half-way to San Francisco right now, not back in Georgetown watching The Colbert Report rerun and pouting about it. My lil' bro is looking at a second day off from school (you wouldn't believe how mild the weather has to be for him to get off school: it was just raining today!) and I am not looking at the Rocky Mountains from 30,000 ft. Like I said, I'm pouting about it.

We drove all the way to Louisville to be told that my first flight was so delayed that I'd miss my connection in Chicago. And all the airlines were up the same creek, so I couldn't hop a flight on another airline. I will say that the booking agent was very helpful, and did his very best to get me to Sydney today. This is on top of the freak-out that was last night, after I got a call saying my flights had been cancelled (I rescheduled, and then this happened).

The bright side of all this is that now I know one of my bags is 4 lbs. over the weight limit of 50 lbs., so now I can remove the many offending items. I do not want to open those suitcases! I've got them packed so tightly I'm a little scared it's more like a time bomb than a vessel of my wardrobe. When I went last time (4 years ago now) I got 70 lbs. per bag! I would've been doing very good by those standards.

To illustrate, a phone conversation between my mom and dad while Mom and I were at the ticket counter, as follows:
Dad: So, is she freaking out?
Mom: Well, she doesn't have any fingernails left.

I had plans. Lots of them. And nothing worked out. And I know that I have to take it as it comes, and that there are things beyond my control, and that I am incapable of following my own advice. It didn't feel real. It didn't feel like it's actually going to happen. Like I was going to Sydney in real life. And when I finally allowed myself to really get excited (right after I checked in, but before the ticket agent told us the flight to Chicago was delayed and I'd miss my connection), it all gets put off.