Monday, November 21, 2011

Thanksgiving

On the most un-Thanksgivingly of Thanksgivings week (based really on the 80 degree temperatures and lack of a huge family dinner complete with a whole roasted turkey and fried okra), we have still managed to bring a bit of the holiday feelings to Australia.

The past two weeks have indeed flown by and the countdown until Thursday is now on. Not only is it my Golden (or Champagne as they refer to it in Canada) Birthday (I turn 24 on the 24th - and I get to celebrate in Australia!) - it is also the day I get my cast taken off and most importantly, it is American Thanksgiving.


Last weekend I spent a nice day lounging around one of our local favorite hangout places, The Grace Darling, and then spent Sunday in the park by the Botanical Gardens. The trees in this park are magnificent and provide shade from the sun (or rain - because it does rain often here in Melbourne). I was able to Skype with most all my family members and best friends. A perfect way to catch up before waking up at 5:30am the next morning to Skype with the entire extended family at Grandmother and Granddad Garner's house for the Garner's early Thanksgiving dinner. No worries, I vicariously ate the fried okra through my dearest family members and was able to envision the delightfulness by the seeing the remnants of my favorite Thanksgiving food through the computer.

A long week at work turned weekend again, which brought nothing but rain and more rain until yesterday when the sun shone brilliantly and I was able to venture out to the Vic market for the day. I was able to achieve all my Christmas shopping in one day and felt quite proud on my trek home on crutches, burdened down with a 40lb backpack. After unloading and admiring my purchases, Bec and I piled into her car to pick up new Australian arrivals, Michelle and Eric who work for Manhattan and have been looking at apartments in our part of town. We all headed to Steph & Scott's house for a Thanksgiving/Birthday/BBQ to celebrate all things wonderful this week. Bec and I's contribution: mini Pecan Pies!


The recipe is so easy to make, especially when you buy frozen mini pastry shells. Add brown sugar, butter, vanilla, eggs and corn syrup (Oh, which they do NOT have in Australia by the way. Who would have guessed that everywhere else in the world besides the USA actually uses all natural ingredients and not processed corn product in 99% of their foods!?) - so the closest thing we could find was a sort of molasses syrup called Tassies. Skeptical of  how they would turn out, they were actually quite delicious and a huge hit at our smorgasbord of a BBQ/Thanksgiving/Birthday Dinner.

Two more days to go until I get this dreadful cast off. Wednesday night Bec and I plan on having a "trash-the-cast" dinner party complete with paint and sharpies before I head to the hospital Thursday morning to get the cast removed!

Minus the old man on the tram the other day reminding me of how ugly my leg will look once the cast comes off, not to mention the amount of skin that will peel away from my body, I am actually ecstatic for this momentous occasion. If you were to ask me how I envisioned celebrating my Golden Birthday, I would have never  imagined in a million years it would include: removing a cast in Australia. But the evening we have planned with all my new friends, followed up with a weekend at the beach is more than I could have ever asked for. My leg will have a large bow tied around it, as that is my birthday present to myself this year! Pictures to come...


Thursday, November 10, 2011

Moral of the Story



Anyone that knows me will be the first to tell you a few things: I am loud, talkative, don't do ‘alone time’ or even generally sitting in one place for an extended period of time too well and I am a ‘planner.’ Naturally, the last descriptive adjective given to me would be ‘introvert.’

In 2 weeks and counting down the days, I will get my cast taken off and put into a fashionable "space boot" for a to-be-determined amount of time until my ankle strength builds back up. As much as I hate wishing away time, I am hoping the next two weeks (minus the weekends because I do treasure those so) will fly by. Anxiety is an understatement of my feelings at various points in time over the past 6 weeks, especially when it came to situations such as:

1. “Bethany is Too Confident on Her Crutches.”
As an extremely independent person, I tend to think I am invincible at times, leaving no reason to ask for help. This fault of mine combined with no patience for sitting still, filthy apartments or hunger have left me in compromising positions on the floor of my apartment covered in cleaning supplies and stir-fried rice. Let’s just say trying to clean the apartment the day after I came home from the hospital was no the best decision of my life, perhaps second worst to jumping off that balcony. My foot closely resembled an uncooked stuffed sausage and was throbbing with pain, but at least I had a clean apartment! After just a couple weeks into the crutches, I had already learned how to balance a plate of food while supporting myself with one crutch and hoisting the other one as a prob. Slowly but surely I found I could gimp my way into the living room to eat dinner. This method worked beautifully until I tried to not only carry a bowl of rice, but add in a cup of water as well. As one can imagine, I ended up on the floor in a puddle of ricey water that had not only managed to splatter across the hallway but onto the walls, cabinets and kitchen door. Calling my mom while in tears helped calm me down long enough to clean up every tiny grain of rice and by then I had lost my appetite. Moral of this story: hire a live-in housekeeper.

2. “Be a Sweet Roommate and Make Bec Dinner Night.”
Similar to story #1, I apparently don’t truly learn my lesson, but just alter the situations I put myself to try to avoid the same incidents. Craving veggie curry after work one evening, I decided to surprise Bec with dinner. With crutches propped up in the corner of the kitchen, the space is small enough that I can hop on one foot to move from fridge, sink and stove without them. Fragrant red curry simmering on the stove in our fabulous wok I turn to hop to the fridge when I hear metal sliding. My crutches decided they did not want to be propped up anymore and had slid along the counter top, catching the handle of the wok, spiraling red veggie curry into the air and onto not only the entirety of the kitchen but onto my plastered leg as well. Cursing the crutches, I grabbed the spatula to try to salvage the pile of veggies now resting in the middle of the kitchen when I hear the front door open. “BEC!” I yelled out. Running to the rescue, Bec got me off the floor and onto the counter with my curry soaked cast in the sink. In rapid speed she had cleaned the floor and moved onto using a scrub brush to eliminate all traces of curry smell and color from my cast. The last thing I needed was to show up to work the next day reeking of Indian food and having a stain as witness. Moral of this story: Order Delivery.
 
3. “I Want a Normal Social Life Back.”
Because this cast situation occurred shortly after we moved into our new apartment, purchasing small household items including a TV remote got pushed to the back burner. Normally this would be no fuss, but when you are couch ridden with no TV remote or easy way to maneuver manually changing the station AND Australia is infamously known for their worse than terrible television programs (that’s why they just steal all the American shows like Two & A Half Men and Modern Family), the no TV remote situation turns into a painful 30 minutes of succumbing to an Australian attempt at sitcom.
Step 1: Ask Bec to buy a TV remote.
Step 2: Find a way to get a social life back. Never wanting to turn down an invite, I mentally prepare myself ahead of time before heading out on crutches and I for the most part go pretty well. Minus falling on the stairs at our local pub, The Arcadia Hotel, perfect strangers referring to me as Hop-Along Cassidy and over confident boys at horse races using pick up lines somewhere in the vicinity of “Aw she can still look great even with crutches. What happened?” social situations have been completely normal. The topping on the cake though had to be the taxi driver who was pulling into traffic while looking at me in his rearview mirror, shaking his head and asking in thick middle eastern accent, “I tought de girls wit de beauty also had de brains.” Moral of this story: Buy a moped.

4. “Work.”
My co-workers have been more than amazing with this entire situation especially when it comes to having a ride to and from work every day. I can officially say every member of my office has now driven me to or from work, but not having to use public transport while on crutches has been a godsend. This is the one time in my life I think I will say I am happy to have a desk job. The only obstacles I have encountered are the steep stairs leading up to my desk and sorting through tube upon tube of last year’s Christmas posters for the shops while sprawled out in my work clothes on the warehouse floor and trying to delegate those sorted tubes to the corresponding shop palates for delivery. Moral of this story: Learn to drive a forklift with poster-tube-grabbing capabilities.

5. “Rain.”
Waiting for a cab or ride to work in the rain has topped my list of least favorite activities of all time. Not only is the slight slope coming out from our apartment deathly slippery which has led to a couple of plastered ankle-slamming-against-concrete incidents, there is also no way to balance on crutches while holding an umbrella (believe me, I have tried.)  Instead I don my purple raincoat and hope the ride is not too far off while balancing on slippery crutches under a tree attempting to keep myself, my cast and my purse as dry as possible while watching out for any sign of a lighting strike. Moral of this story: Buy an umbrella hat, preferably with primary colored stripes.

6. “Ugly Foot Etiquette.”
The question of the hour is: ‘What are the rules of etiquette for a bum foot in public?’ On Several occasions I have hiked a large soccer sock over my cast, to not only keep my toes warm (most of the time they are frozen solid), but also to attempt to hide my toes from sight (most noticeable when wearing dress pants with the other foot in a closed-toe shoe). Restaurants are always an interesting situation as well. Many people in this world have a strong aversion to feet and the thought of nasty toes propped up on the chair next to them while they attempt to choke down their meal is not the most pleasant of dining situations. Therefore, I try to keep my foot on the ground for as long as I can stand to without my foot swelling too much. The most memorable of ugly foot etiquette will be the timing and process of removing 8 weeks of ashy skin and leg hair before promptly arriving at a spray tan appointment to even out the lower leg paleness (since yes, I do already have a tan line) and then onto have a pedicure. I am thinking either an entire pack of razors will be necessary, or might just go straight for clipping shears. Moral of this story: Research and write my own “Ugly Foot Etiquette” Book.

7. My Happy Place
So all these stories over the past weeks have really one underlying moral. The extrovert Bethany has had to learn how to be an introvert. Never in my life would I have told you that I would sit on a couch for an entire Saturday with no plans and be perfectly content with it. Believe it or not, for once in my life I am comfortable with reading books, writing, watching movies, alone. My happy place is in my living room on my bright blue couch with the sun shining, French doors wide open (I am now an expert at propping these open on crutches) and happy music playing. If this was some sort of sick joke to force me to reach this point with myself, then the joke worked. I surrender!

Wednesday, November 2, 2011

The 5 Minutes That Stop A Nation


Race week is one of the most exciting and anticipated weeks of the year for all of Australia, but in particular for horse trainers from around the world, and most importantly for the state of Victoria. The annual Melbourne Cup at Flemington Race Track is a tradition dating now 151 years and is the richest handicap race in the nation, and with prizes and trophies combined makes it one of the richest in the world. Bringing in over $200 million in betting dollars and over 350,000 spectators, the Cup is nothing but a high grossing gathering of some of the wealthiest and most influential high class of Australia (and a few world visitors as well).

Although Cup day is the biggest race, traditionally held on Tuesday of Melbourne Cup Carnival Week, there are 3 other large race of the week: Derby Day, Oaks Day and Stakes Day. Meyer, one of the largest retailers in Victoria is a main sponsor which lends itself to having to come to the races dressed to the T complete with to-die-for fascinators, exquisite cocktail dresses, funky jewelry, mile-high stiletto heels and the men in finely European tailored suits. The whole city of Melbourne turns up to not only watch the horses, but to strut their brilliantly pruned plumage and judge others’ ensembles simultaneously.



Derby Day, the “kick-off celebration” to race week is the day a group of us headed to the races. This first race of the week is traditionally known for all the women dressing in Black & White and then men wearing 3-piece gray suits. Think a My Fair Lady cocktail dress party and that is exactly what I walked into, on crutches. No stiletto heels for me, but I did my best to dress from heel to toe in a gorgeous white fascinator with black feathers, a slit-back dress and a black sock to cover my cast! We had a fantastic time watching and betting (I wont $20!) on the races, and just people watching, looking over all the other outfits keenly put together. 





The second race, always held on Tuesday of race week is the event of the year and a public holiday (because everyone would have taken the day off from work anyways). For a bit of Melbourne Cup history:
Ever since the running of the first Cup, the race has been popular with the public. Melbourne gives itself a holiday on Cup Day (as hardly anyone is likely to turn up to work) and a strange, eerie quiet settles over the city while the race is being run. The Melbourne Cup is rare among famous horse races for being a handicap event. This means that the best horses must carry not only their jockey, but extra weight in the form of lead bars in their saddle bags. Horses with a lesser chance of winning carry only their jockey. This has always been part of the Cup's popularity because it means, in theory, every horse has an equal chance, so it's possible for an unknown horse with a lightweight jockey to streak past the post and beat the favourite. It sits well with our national philosophy of giving the "little Aussie Battler a "fair go".

Although we did not attend the races again for the Cup, we did watch it on TV along with everyone else in all of Australia. After all, the Cup race has become to be known as The 5 Minutes that Stops a Nation. Every television set was tuned in, restaurants and pubs had race day specials, and the spectators at Flemington Race Course were wildly ecstatic as 24 gates opened and those 24 horses bolted out for a 2-mile sprint valued at $6million. Americain was favored to win, yet placed 4th and the race came to end with Dunaden beating Red Cadeaux by literally a hair. The anticipation while the judges were gathering the photo finish images was painfully slow. As soon as the image flashed up on the television, not one spectator cheered because it was that close of a race, it was still yet to be determined. After deliberation, fill-in French jockey, Christophe Lemaire began to cheer as the announcement cried over the loud speakers that Dunaden, favoured 3rd in the race had indeed won. Dunaden’s usually jockey, Craig Williams had to back out in the last minute due to legal issues, therefore Lemaire stepped in after flying into Australia the night before from Tokyo, and won!  This race certainly will go down in the books as one of the closest races of all time.




Oaks Day at the races is the ultimate fashion day of race week, therefore fittingly known as ladies’ day and is held on the 3rd day of the Melbourne Cup Race Carnival Week. More about fashion than the actual races, all attendees are more concerned about winning the prize for their ensemble than betting on the horses. This year the big trend to follow is all about color blocking, the bigger and bolder, the better. We are talking, neon heels, different neon colored skirt, top, fascinator and lipstick! I cannot wait to see pictures from all the outfits from this Thursday.










Stakes Day is known as “family day” and is the ending event of Race Week. Activities are always planned for all ages throughout the day. This is also the day to see Black Caviar, the world champion’s sprinter horse run.

Being able to be part of such a spectacular event is a wonderful experience. The fact that a public holiday is based around a horse race still baffles my mind, but having a Tuesday off was quite refreshing (although I made up for it at work today with the amount of work I had to do).
Here’s a toast to Dunaden wining the 151st Melbourne Cup, to Race Week, to great friends, beautiful fashion and gorgeous weather for the races!