Golden (*Champagne*) Birthday

I could have never imagined in a lifetime that I would have spent my Golden Birthday (turning 24 on the 24th of November) in Australia. (They call it Champagne Birthday in Canada - and Australia just doesn't celebrate such a thing at all). If anything, I had always had visions of going out in Atlanta in some fabulous gold dress with my closest friends. Instead, it went a bit like this:

Wednesday night before my birthday, Bec came home and surprised me with two blue sharpies (thank you KPMG stationary supply room). Over a glass of wine, we proceeded to graffiti my soon-to-be-removed cast with mantras that have become standard conversation since this whole ankle fiasco began. We dubbed this night the "trash the cast, party of two."

Feeling slightly like a 4th grader, I donned a large, black athletic sock up over my cast the next morning to head to Alfred Hospital Round 3. The day of Freedom had finally arrived! Bec and I had a quick pit stop at a cute local cafe right at the end of our street and she treated to a skinny flat white coffee, my new favorite (can't drink skinny caps ALL the time!) We toasted to: A Golden Birthday, American Thanksgiving and Cast-Off Day. What more could I ask for on this very special day!? Literally I day I felt like a kid on Christmas Eve waiting for Santa. I was so giddy and happy and the sun was shining, it was a great day.

This Round 3, a slightly more competent taxi driver took me the rest of the way to the Alfred and after a slight panic attack in the X-ray waiting room (the nurse said I might not get the cast off that day), I hobbled over to the second waiting room filled with 100 other patients all sporting variations of bone injuries. A nurse I recognized from the "plaster room" during Alfred Hospital Round 2 came to escort me back to the plaster room where I then had to....remove the sock. Bear in mind, I am now in a small room, with 5 other people, all over the age of 40. So the fact that I am in my 20's, in a cast... which is covered in graffiti, does nothing to help my: "I broke it in an innocent accident" claim.

Waiting for about an hour (all the while being harassed by the 40 year old show off/know it all across from me) the nurse finally wheeled over a large shop-vac looking machine equipped with a rotating saw blade connected to a long tube. This was the cast removal system, the ONLY cast removal system (unfortunately for Mr. Know It All who was keen to just rip it off himself.) She assured me the cast would only cut through the plaster but would stop automatically if it came into contact with skin (how a blade knows such things is beyond me, but I trusted her.) She also assured me that mine was one of the most tame and 'G' rated graffiti job she had seen and sent congratulations my way. A few cuts later, the cast peeled away, I look down to a hairy, pale, crusty, sorry excuse for a lower leg. The nurse brought over a wet towel for me to wash away what grime I could, which really just took off an entire couple layers of skin. To have the cast finally off my leg though felt fantastic.

Already discouraged by the state of my leg, the Doctor came back to announce I could keep the cast off but would have to use crutches for 6 more weeks - and then he disappeared (have I mentioned yet though that he is a young, charming, very attractive doctor??) - therefore mustering up every ounce of charisma in me when he returned, I convinced him to let me go straight to a "moon boot" so I would at least be able to walk, on two feet, without crutches - it was "my birthday after all!" (Actually in the back of my mind, all I cared about at that moment was the gathering of friends later that evening for my birthday and seeing all the disappointing looks on their faces when I would walked up on crutches instead of both feet - that would just not do.)

Scribbled prescription in hand, Dr. Charm wished me a Happy Birthday with a grin and sent me on my way to the Ortho equipment rental center to have my 'Cam' boot fitted. 20 minutes later, I was outside, on two feet, with a huge grin on my face.

Meeting at The World Bar was the plan for the evening, arranged by the fabulous Bec. After work, my friends met me here after work and I could not have ask for a better birthday celebration: right on the Yarra River walk, looking out to the water, sitting on the patio with great food, drinks and warm sunshine. It was perfect. Topping on the cake, my Birthday card from the Irish guys (this was inspired by a REAL sign on a tram in the city encouraging passengers to offer their seats to cripples - how appropriate!):

The Packed Car

Celebrations continued on into the weekend (and this time a drawn out Birthday was actually warranted because my birthday in the US was not until my Friday.) After work 5 of us piled into Bec's little Holden Hatchback loaded down with gear for a weekend at the beach in Fairhaven (literally a little strip of beach houses between Torquay and Lorne on the Great Ocean Road.) 12 of us met at a fabulous beach house, in the hills overlooking the water. Although it rained the majority of the weekend we still had an excellent time with home cooked meals, dance parties in the living room, swimming in the ocean (yes, I got in with my boot on - the other option was standing in the rain with FOMO (fear of missing out) and that just really wasn't even an option) and a trip to Koala Cove after a nice brunch in Lorne.

The most exciting part to the brunch (minus my amazing fluffy scrambled eggs on thick cut, grilled sourdough bread) was the people watching. "Schoolies" as they call them here are the high school graduates. (A bit odd to think of high school graduation in November/December, but this is Australia summer time - so their academic calendar follows suit. ) Schoolies are the 18 year old, but "I think I am 25 and cooler than you" type of kids. Donning outfits I that should be illegal to wear (worst offense: high waisted jean shorts with a 1/2 an inch inseam - worn by girls of ALL shapes and sized), these kids come to the beach to celebrate graduation and just wander up and down the beach. Bec and I had to restrain to keep our thoughts and judgements to ourselves.

The Great Ocean Road

Onto Koala cove (and only having to stop once for directions) we finally found the turn off. Rumored to have 100's of koalas sitting in the trees, this is a popular tourist attraction. So popular it even has a cafe named after it at the bottom of the hill required to climb to see the fluffy little guys. After hiking up the hill we saw one, not 100's, and it was asleep. Quite disappointing but after such a tiring weekend, I was envious of the little fella. All I wanted to do at that point was to curl up with him in the tree. Much more exciting were the enormous amounts of colorful birds. Entirely accustomed to tourists, a handful of birdseed would attract one of these parrots and they would eat right out of your hand. We each had a go (Lynsey and Rigel had more than they bargained for with birds landing on their heads), but this brought us entertainment for much longer than it should have.

Koala Cove

Saying our goodbyes then, all three car fulls headed back toward Melbourne, back to reality of Monday work day. I could not have asked for a better birthday. And although I missed Thanksgiving dinner (I had my moments of home sickness - especially after attempting to call my Mawmaw on her birthday, the day after mine and receiving emails from back home about a family effort to make heaps of mashed potatoes and pies), I could not have asked for a better way to spend my Champagne/Golden Birthday.