Torquay

 It’s been two weeks on crutches and I am already ready to be rid of them, but alas after my doctor’s appointment today, I still have 6 weeks to go. Thankfully I am pretty agile on them and am increasing my upper body strength by the day. There have only been a few mishaps involving wet concrete and stairs, but other than that I have managed fairly well.

Today’s follow up appointment at the doctor deemed no different than the first go around at Alfred Hospital. My day started by walking outside into a cold and rainy day, slipping and landing on my bad ankle on the way to the taxi (this time, the driver knew the route to the hospital which made it a bit better), arriving at 10:45am at the wrong side of the hospital and making my way on crutches down the long hallway to the right side of the hospital. I escorted myself to the “plaster room” to remove the first cast, down the hallway to get an x-ray and then back to an examination room to have a new cast put on. Leaving after 3:00pm, I was exhausted by the time I took a taxi to work for 1.5 hours. Everyone was extremely friendly, but slow as molasses and a bit unorganized.

Days like today though are completely made up for by days like yesterday. A Sunday day trip to Bells Beach in Torquay (Aussies pronounce it “Tore-Key.” The weather was perfectly warm and sunny. Bec and I woke up early and picked up our friends Ryan and Rigel and headed out toward the Great Ocean Road. Blasting road trip tunes with the windows down and singing off-key at the top of our lungs, we were flying down the road, anxious to get the beach. About half way into our journey, we pulled off to buy some mangoes and bananas (only $4.85 a kilo! – this is a record low price for bananas that topped at $15.99 a kilo this winter). Back on the road we drove the second 45 minutes and made it to the beach about lunchtime.

Settling onto a grassy hill overlooking the beach, I was perfectly content reading my book, listening to music and people watching and soaking up some sun. (Yes, I do already have a cast tan line!) The boys and Bec headed to rent surf gear and ran out to catch some waves. About an hour and half later, they were exhausted and I was fending off spiders, (apparently I was lying on a nest in the grass and didn’t realize), so we moved down to the sand for a bit. My sweet friends hoisted me down and created a footrest made of sand. A bit more sun bathing and we were all ready for some food. 

We ended up of Growlers, a cute beach shack restaurant overlooking the water with a huge patio. With no questions asked, we opted in for the $25 cheese plate and bottle of wine combo, along with other tapas served at that time of day. It was relaxing and delicious, and the best possible ending to a beach day.

Well, almost the best, because straight from the beach we headed to our favorite local pub, the Arcadia Hotel to watch the New Zealand All Blacks take on France in the 2011 Rugby World Cup final. The match was close, but the All Blacks pulled out the win in the end. It was loud and energizing watching amongst all the fans.

I didn’t want the day to end. It was relaxing but an escape from the ordinary weekend and a chance to not have to think about my foot for a bit (minus the excursion to find the public washroom on the beach and getting a sympathy look from every passer-by). Back to the grind this week, but get to supervise my first Chocolate Box photo shoot tomorrow, which is exciting. Then this weekend commences 2011 Melbourne Cup (the annual, largest horse races), beginning with Derby Day on Saturday. I can’t wait!

An Ashtray?

Spring time in Melbourne, even better than I had expected. Bright, sunny days in the mid 70's with a day or two of rain in between to help open up the flowers a little more. I was getting spoiled by my runs home from work, with scenes that made me smile the whole way, from crew teams racing up the Yarra River, to families walking along the boardwalks, businessmen in suits riding their bikes home from work, and friends meeting at all the busy cafe's along the river for a drink promptly at 5pm. With the CBD and the river to my left and cafe's and parks to my right (bridges in all shapes and sizes crossing at various points, some even attaching to cafe's that sit in the middle of the river), I could not have asked for a better route with more gorgeous scenery to run. The route takes me the same amount of time as taking public transport - so why not, right?

All this glory came to a screeching halt this past Saturday, when after a nasty fall, I could do nothing more than limp around for the remainder of the weekend. Thinking I had a sprained ankle, I waited until Monday morning to take myself to the Doctor for him to have a look. Without hesitation, he sent me to the hospital for an X-ray. With only a cane in hand (thanks to my Irish buds), I wobbled from the doctor across the street to the pharmacy to "hire" crutches (no you cannot get these from the doctor, you have to rent them from the hospital or pharmacy - and yes, all I can think about is the amount of armpit sweat that is soaked into the pads from previous renters). After obtaining my crutches, I catch taxi number 2 of the day to head off to Alfred Hospital (taxi #2, who I had to direct to the hospital, after directing taxi #1 to the doctors - taxi drivers here are NOT known for their sense of direction, or knowing where anything is in Melbourne for that matter). Refusing to pay for having to turn around twice on the way to the hospital, I made it to the front lobby where a attendant asked in an exacerbated tone if she could help me.

"Yes ma'am, I need an X-ray."

"A what?"

"An X-ray?"

"An ASHTRAY??"

"No! I believe I have BROKEN my ankle, therefore need to have an X-RAY done to verify this theory!"

"Down that hallway," she points without a even bothering to look up from her computer.

"Great, thanks." The hallway was about a 1/4 of a mile to the ER entrance of the hospital, no thanks to the cab driver, I had to carry myself to the correct entrance for injured people checking themselves into the hospital.

Already feeling so concerned for at this point, I stood at the ER front counter for a good 5 minutes before anyone even noticed, and even after that was told to move one window over to be asked some questions. Getting out of the one chair to move to the other wasn't enough, after answering basic questions, I moved about the waiting room about 3 times before being directed to a secondary waiting room, shuffled to 3 different examination rooms, an x-ray room, a cat scan room and back to the 2nd waiting room, all while carrying all my belongings, balancing on my crutches, with a nurse offering to hold my cane behind me (I couldn't leave it!)

Finally at about 4pm (this whole journey started at 8:30am) - I was escorted to a 4th examination room to be told I needed surgery. Back out to the waiting room, I waited for another hour before a nurse stuck an IV in my arm (in the middle of the waiting room, in front of loads of other patients and people walking by). I didn't have much hope left when she yelled out "oops!" -  Looking down to see the pillow supporting my arm soaked in blood, I could feel what remaining blood I had left drain out of my face and what little hope I did still have for the hospital was then completely vanished.
She changed the pillowcase and promptly scooted off to her next patient.

Finally it was my time to be wheel chaired up to the room where I would spend the next two nights (not sure why they now just figured I needed a wheelchair, but that was the least of my concerns at this point.)

Settling into the bed I would call home for the next 2 days, I told the nurse that yes, I was hungry, but no, I do not eat meat. To that she brought me this:

Rebecca, sweet Rebecca came to my rescue about an hour later in hand with Thai food, snacks, movies, my laptop and a change of clothes and toiletries. My hero!

Tuesday morning I woke bright and early to prepare for my surgery which took place in the "theater" (what they call their operating rooms here because of all the lights, noises and people). After reaching a significant level of nervousness in the recovery room waiting to be wheeled into the theater designated to me, I had been filled in on the procedure for anesthesia and what would happen after the surgery.

The next thing I knew, I was back in the recovery room in more pain than I have ever experienced in my life. The nurse gave me high levels of morphine to ease my pain (I was not aware that apparently I have a high tolerance to the stuff) - and finally felt loopy, but at ease. The pain had subsided enough for the ward staff to wheel me back to Ward 2F, Bed 1.

Sweet Marion, my manager from the Chocolate Box was there waiting with chocolates in hand for myself and for the nurses. I let mom and dad know I was ok (in my morphine stupor) and fell asleep for a good while. Even when Bec came to visit me that night, I was in no place to have visitors, let alone try to carry on a conversation with them. However, I had the whole staff convinced that I felt great and would be leaving the next morning.

Wednesday morning I woke up and was determined to GET outta there! Surviving off the muesli bars and tangerines that Bec had brought me, I convinced the staff I was eating enough to take all my medications, and that I was ok to leave. After one more x-ray (and nearly throwing up what little I had in my stomach on the ward staff pushing me to and from my x-ray --- he deserved it though, trying to hit on/make small talk to the girl from America who just had surgery!), I was given the download on how to use my crutches and bath stool, Bec arrived, and I was out the door!

Turning to say good-bye to my favorite ward nurse, an older gentleman who had kept my mind at ease throughout my whole stay, Nic, said: "there goes the girl who was in and out in 24 hours!"

Hospitals are my least favorite destination, especially when there are many other fun places to go and things to see. I am determined to recover as quickly as possible, and hey - now that I have a metal plate and screws in my ankle - I think that just made me a bionic woman - I won't wear out as fast!

It was just a little bump in the road - I will be up and going in no time. I am most upset about missing my run home and an evening of Bikram Yoga, but everything happens for a reason, I must remember that. In the mean time, if you ever happen to need medical assistance in Australia, just don't expect anything to happen quickly. Patience is more than a virtue here, it's a way of life.

Grand Final 2011

Footy Grand Final (the Superbowl of Footy) was last Saturday. A group of us hung out at Spice Market and then the Carlton Hotel Friday night, two very cool hangout spots in the CBD. Saturday, Bec and I watched the Grand Final at London Tavern, of course yet another cool hangout spot in the suburb called Richmond (very close to the Footy Stadium). The crowd was massive and just as rowdy as any American football crowd . 

The match was Collingwood Magpies (Black and White Vertical Striped jerseys) vs. Geelong Cats (Blue and White Horizontal Striped jerseys). 

Now Collingwood has a reputation around here that their fans are treacherous, their players are dirty rule breakers and many of their supporters have missing teeth. Therefore, we all opted to cheer for the Geelong Cats.

The match was close, a back and forth game until the fourth quarter when Geelong stepped it up and killed Collingwood 118 to 91!

The crowd in London Tavern went crazy with chants going from one side of the large venue to the other. It certainly was an experience, I even got caught up cheering on the team and yelling out loud with some fist pumps when Geelong scored.

Now that the Final is over, it's time to begin looking at Stats, Records and Players to choose which team I will "go for" next year. 

Love the Footy!

The Blue Couch.

Thanks to our savvy shopping on the Australian version of Craigslist (called Gumtree), Bec and I have almost completely furnished our living room for under $100. We started with a bare canvas, minus a few lampshades and curtains left behind, leaving us somewhat in a panic to find furniture, but also allowing us to make it our own. Enter in Bec’s Peugeot hatchback, a $40 coffee + 2 side tables combo, an Ikea bed frame, odds and ends from the Chinese store, full bedding (for a full/queen mattress), an extra large bag of bean bag pellets, a $50 bright blue couch, a Chocolate Box van and two exhausting days.

Day 1: Because of the Trade Shows I have worked the past couple of weekends, I was allowed days off during the week to make up for it. I had fantasies of going on a quick trip somewhere, or even visiting my favorite City Library and Degraves Lane. Because of my meetings schedule and a large number of errands that seem to pile up after you sign a lease to an apartment, the trip never happened, but of course, there was an adventure. Rushing around on one of my days off, I got most errands accomplished, including a trip to the Chinese store. It’s highly pretentious to say “Chinese” when there could be several other nationalities of people who own these say shops, but that is just what we have come to refer to them as. They are essentially your typical Dollar Generals with any and everything you could every want or need in terms of house wares, cleaning supplies, closet organizers, but say you also need a Buddha statue, a colorful fan, a hat for the horse races and a disco ball – well they have full aisles for you as well. I picked up some essentials, only to drop one outside in the street (a shattered wine glass just gets thrown in the trash – there are no exchange policies, just in case you were wondering). Left the Chinese shop to pick up our $40 coffee table/side table combo set. They were in great condition from a family who no longer wanted/needed them. The little Peugeot hatchbacks they drive over here may seem small, but man do they fit a whole lot. Back seats down, those suckers slid right in. And on my way to Ikea I went. Picked up some other essentials (including one of those last minute impulse buys: a lime green scrub brush for the kitchen). After dropping off my newly acquired bed frame at the “carriage cue” where they watch your items until you bring your car around, I wandered around the parking deck trying to find the “purple level” for a good 20 minutes. All I wanted to do was drop off the small items I had purchased at Ikea at the car before heading back into the shopping center to get a few more things at Kmart. Somehow I had parked on the very bottom of the deck, not even accessible by lift. I can’t even tell you now how I made it back to the car, but nearly giving up to even enter back into the shopping center, I had to give myself a pep talk to get back in there. (The night before I did not sleep more than 3 hours total because a combination of sleeping in a new place, forgetting to close my window and the temperature dropped to 20*F and not having proper bed clothes. Reminding myself about waking up to all sorts of noises, my nose frozen purple and my toes numb was motivation enough. I gathered myself and went back into Kmart. I found everything I needed (somewhat – may have just given up on finding down comforters in the right size and justified buying a king size – it is quite large and fluffy and comfy) – including an essential bag of beanbag pellets. Yes, we bought bean bags for our living room, and they are amazing – red and gray/blue beauties to just pop a squat on when you come visit. After making it down the escalator ramp with my shopping cart full of bedding and beans (visions of my airport entrance into Australia flashing through my eyes) – and nearly knocking out the lady in front of me with a runaway pillow, I made it back to the car. Stuffing the bedding around the table legs and carefully placing the bag of pellets in between the tables and the door, I drove back around to Ikea to pick up my bed frame.

All seemed to be going smoothly, the bed fit in perfectly, I was making some minor adjustments when POOF! An explosion of Styrofoam white bean bag pellets exploded all over the back of the car, spilling out into the Ikea loading area, and creating quite the spectacle for all the other customers loading items into their cars. Every attempt to adjust the bag to keep it from leaking created another cloud of pellets exploding into the sky. Humiliated, I quickly remembered I had also bought on impulse a bag of chip clips and ingeniously closed the hole with the clips. Bec came out to help unload the car when I finally made it home (only after getting a minor bit lost on the way back). We could do nothing but laugh when the bag of pellets somehow was split in more than one place, leaving a trail up to the new apartment. I’m sure our neighbors loved our grand entrance.

Day 2: Bec took a day off work to help pick up our favorite find on Gumtree to date. A bright blue couch for only $50. The Chocolate Box willingly let us borrow one of the vans wrapped in the logo to pick up the couch. Because neither Bec nor I are the best drivers, especially on the wrong side of the road and directionally impaired, we opted to take the smaller automatic van vs. the larger manual van (for the safety of all the other drivers on the road). I brushed off any hesitation that the couch not might fit in the van and off we went. Of course, it starts pouring down rain just as we arrive, but miraculously lets up long enough to haul the couch up a huge hill and into the back of the van, only to figure out, no, the van is not large enough. Thankfully we had a bungee cord and it fit just enough to close the doors with the cord (and we weren’t too far from the apartment). With flashers on and a bright blue couch hanging out of the branded Chocolate Box van, Bec and I received the oddest stares of 1. Who in the world are these girls and 2. Did they steal either one of these large item because this picture does not add up or 3. Who was crazy enough to leave them alone to move this couch using that van?

We got the couch safely into the living room with only one minor scare of the bungee cord breaking (thankfully I didn’t see Bec’s panicked face) and one smashed finger (no worries, Bec said it felt better the next day.) We returned the van to my office with only a few playful jabs of my parallel parking abilities (it’s hard as it is, let alone from the other side of the car!)

The apartment still needs our personal touches, but it’s slowly but surely coming together. There have been only minor setbacks (i.e. finishing assembling my bed frame only to figure out that I indeed have a queen mattress and not a full, so I will be making a trip back to Ikea) and a leaking washing machine. But it’s our home now, and we love it. We intend to create a large bulletin board on the back wall of our living room to hang mementos, pictures and fun things we find that remind us of these many adventures. It’s nice to have my own space, and so close to everything: shops, restaurants, the train station, parks, the Yarra river. But it’s tucked away on a tree-lined street. All the apartments have vines and flowers growing alongside and up their balconies. It’s a perfect tucked away oasis that’s right in the middle of everything. It’s perfect.

Bec with our mattresses (that she recruited two very nice co-workers
of her to carry 1k down the street to our new place!)

Empty living room with amazing french doors

Bookcases

Settling into the kitchen

My room: doesn't look too much different now, just a mattress on the floor

Our first dinner together: black bean burgers,
homemade guac and Shiraz of course

The reason we love this place: our french doors out
to the balcony. All thats needed is a bistro table/chair set

The beginnings of our furnishings: cute rug, bright blue
couch and bean bags, naturally!

A little more put together kitchen

Watch Out Chapel Street, Here I Come!

This past weekend I worked at the Taste of Melbourne passing out Chocolate Box chocolates to any and every willing person who walked by our booth. The Taste was an exhibition of wine, food and house wares vendors passing out samples and flyers to advertise their company. Also set up were mini restaurant fronts of many of the best restaurants around Melbourne.

Talking with our customers and selling them bags of chocolates they sampled was entertaining and insightful of what our customer base is looking for in terms of consumption. (Towards the end of the evenings, especially on the last night of the event, I began just shoving chocolates into people’s shopping bags insisting that “this is the best chocolate EVER!” – hey, it is my job to market this stuff – might as well go big or go home!) I believe my favorite two customers of the entire weekend were:

1. The dad who over and over again used his young daughter to come ask me for samples. Apparently he didn’t think I would notice – so I finally made a comment: “Are you back again!?” (in a smiling, friendly way of course) – only to have the father reply, “No, this is her sister. She would like a sample as well.” Little did he know I could NOT be outsmarted. “Oh, do you have a twin?” I asked the little girl. Stuttering, the father turned beet red and rushed his daughter to the back of the crowd. I had to have a laugh because of the number of people just wanting freebies and never actually buying product or even simply seeming slightly interested in our company.

2. The angry hippie who could not beeeeliieve we were serving this “crap” (he used much colorful language) called milk chocolate to our customers. The only “real” chocolate in the world and that people should consume, especially women with all their “hormones and things” (his exact words) is pure 100% cacao (naturally, of course because of all the health benefits as well.) His tirade about health and obesity and the abhorrent act of the Chocolate Box serving milk chocolate, and how he has his own cacao crops and all his homes around the world and yak yak yak, went on for about 20 minutes before I finally had enough and walked away. My counterpart in crime, James graciously stepped in for me to blindside him with the questions of the evening, “So how much do you pay those illegal workers on this cacao farm of yours?” That shut the guy up real fast and we did not see his face again. Thank you James!

Not only did I eat my weight in chocolate, bread/olive oil samples and cheese throughout the course of the weekend, I just couldn’t let the many wine samples (that the vendors were so willing to share) go to waste! The weekend was deemed a great success in terms of the number of impressions we generated for The Chocolate Box brand (about 10,000 people walked through the door of the Royal Exhibition Building – where the event was taking place). We had comments made on Facebook and via email thanking us for the chocolate samples, and that they indeed would order some Christmas presents through our online store. Well-done team!

The rest of the week has turned into some time off (because I worked the whole weekend), which included: Nailing down an apartment (yay! Before and After Pictures to come), setting up utilities, appliances, signing documents, providing “100 points” of identification, background checks, you name it. Applying for and winning the bid for an apartment is like a high security CIA auction. I had dreams that we were denied and had a regret email sent to me with the closing line of, “that’s just Australia for ya.” Thankfully, my dream did not come true and this Friday, Rebecca and I will be holding the keys to a precious apartment off Caroline Street in South Yarra. About 5k from the CBD, just a jog away from the Botanical Gardens, the Yarra River and the TAM (a track around the gardens that’s great to run along) – we are in the middle of all the action, shopping, eateries and public transport. This weekend was exactly what I needed for the extra push of loving Melbourne even more! I had to say my goodbyes to my posse who have been so amazing to me over the past almost 2 months and that I have grown even more attached to. The kids asked if they would eveeerr see me again (I had to convince them that yes, I was not leaving Australia, just moving to a different part of town.) Had to tell Steph that we would still need to meet for runs and an occasional pedicure. Rebecca came to get me at 9:30pm on Tuesday and we were off to South Yarra. I felt like I was escaping in the middle of the night. That evening Rebecca and I decided, even though we have no fridge, no furniture and no washing machine, our first purchases (and this is a must) would be: 1. A beanbag for the living room that all our guests will have to sign when they come visit and 2. iPod speakers because everyone needs music in their lives. The second evening together we planned trips and activities out for almost every weekend to almost the end of the year (because naturally if you don’t plan a head, you will never go anywhere, duh.) And this is why we were destined to live together.

Not only will we have to move in, I have to work another fair this weekend (the Irresistible Gluten Free Show) – this time passing out our Gluten Free Fudge, Nougat and Lollipops. I am not a celiac, but I still plan on tasting some pretty fabulous food while I am there. I have given up eating any meat (besides fish) and have stuck to a fairly strict diet (ok, minus last weekend) of fruits and veg and sources of protein, i.e.: eggs, lentils, beans and tofu. I am hoping for great recipes from this weekend as well. Rebecca seems slightly nervous that for the next year living together all she will consume is vegetables and wine. Sounds good to me!

I am missing everyone from home, especially when I see comments about going to see the Dawgs play in Athens, or hear that GAC football is going well. I must say though, no matter how much I love it here, I do love and miss everyone back home – guess you all just have to come visit!

P.S.

Check out the amazing blog by the two creatively fabulous Greenway sisters: Something Old Something New Weddings

I did a guest post for them on best places to get married in Melbourne. (Not that I am anywhere close to the point of looking at wedding venues, but its fun to pretend!)

Footy

This past weekend was a reflection on many reasons why I love (and not so love) being an American. The reflection and ceremonies around the 10 year of September was touching beyond words and I felt the umph of patriotism and gathering as a nation from all the way over here. That is why I loved being an American.

Why I did not love being an American (and in particular an American sports fan). The Georgia Bulldogs are opening their season 0 and 2  for the first time since 1996. As much as I stand by and support my team and Mark Richt, I would much rather see my team win to help give meaning to the rush of feelings I get when watching a pre-game pump up video or a highlights reel. Needless to say, I know our team has potential - I just want to see it!

I have been trying to explain over the past couple of weeks to my new Melbourne posse (made up mostly of a unnnnbeeelievable group of Irish guys, a few of their girlfriends and roommates, a Canadian guy and the "two North American girls" ((me and Rebecca - my soon to be new roommate!)) what is was like to grow up "in the South." This explanation began with describing the most perfect Fall day in Athens, tailgating. This concept in itself took a long while to explain because of all the details including: how early you must wake up to secure a spot on tailgating premises; drinking keg beer and bloody marys/mimosas from Solo cups (which they thought was hilarious since its the stereotypical party staple in American movies); grilling out every meat possible, accompanied by a table full of potato salad (had no clue what this was), baked beans (served on sourdough toast with bacon as a breakfast item down here), and Chick-fil-a nuggets/lemonade/sweet tea (my excitement for this alone scared them a little I think). The overwhelming gasp at how many people Sanford Stadium holds left me glowing with pride. I promised them all that if they made their way to the USA and DIDN'T go to a Southern college football game, they would truly miss out.

After all the hype of college football, I got a dose of humility pie when watching the Ireland/USA rugby game (but who else in the world besides AUS, NZ, England, France and South Africa watches or even cares about rugby!?) I had no idea what was going on, there was not method to the madness - and we lost terribly, but we had some "great defense" (according to the other spectators around me.) This followed by my continued misuse of the word "football" (soccer) and my cracks at how great a rugby (these guys are masssssive) vs. NFL game would be to watch (NFL apparently wouldn't stand a chance based on the "mattresses" they get to wear during their games.)

All this combined with Samantha Stosur, the Australian underdog who beat Serena Williams this past weekend in the 2011 US Open, and the Bears destroying the Falcons did not leave my head high for too long - I got dished a big dose of humble pie for my over-excitement about American sports.

There is one saving grace, and a great reason I love being here in Australia. It's called Footy. Footy in the best way I can describe it is a combination of: running the amount of soccer games, tackling (with no pads) and method of scoring like rugby (or NFL), and high scoring like Basketball -- all on a massively large circular field. I mean, this field is so large, pigeons land on the unused sections and hang out for extended periods of time feeding off the grass seeds. Needless to say, these are amazingly in-shape (and very good looking) athletes. Not to mention - the uniform for footy players looks a bit like 1970's NBA uniforms. Now Australia, the state of Victoria in particular, is so big into footy (and very few places anywhere are) - that there is a team for every SUBURB in Victoria. I am continually being asked who I will "go for" - but that I can't be a bandwagon fan on whoever wins this year's Grand Final and does not necessarily have to be the team of the suburb you live in. It's a big deal here. They even have scarfs knitted with their team names.

There have been 3 very distinctly different scenarios which I have interacted in someway with footy since I have arrived.

Scenario 1:
Me being the worry wart that I am, thinking I would find nooo other job here, I signed onto a temp hospitality agency to work bar/restaurant/waiter shifts from time to time to make some money. My first shift (last minute - meaning I had 30 minutes to shower and get into the CBD) was working in the Medallion level restaurant at the Ethihad footy stadium during the St. Kilda/Collingwood game (two suburbs close to the CBD.) It was a fun experience to play hostess to a large group of wealthy "members" and get glimpses of the game while having other temps explain the rules to me.

Scenario 2:
Just a few rows back from the "pitch" (the field) at the Geelong/Collingwood game. The people I was with were Collingwood fans, so naturally I cheered for them, and also naturally spotted the cutest player (and famed bad-boy #2: Chris Tarrant!) The game commences with all the fans singing the team song (which sound a lot like fraternity songs) and then the madness begins. The atmosphere feels just like being at an American football games, fans act the same way and are just as sore losers too. Collingwood was losing so badly that we ended up leaving early, being boo-ed out of the stadium (I so badly wanted to say "I'm American, I don't really care!!) But needless to say - it was an amazing experience to see the game live and experience what the hype is all about.

Scenario 3:
Another temp role. Except this was as a cocktail serving at a AFL (Australian Football League) event where one of the players was being interviewed and a lot of high-end people who are members of various teams mingled with fancy hors d'oeuvres and drinks. I was running late from work so I had to rush to get changed, throw on a black tie (yes, I had to wear a tie) and run up to the event. I was opening up and pouring champagne when they pulled me into the back to start taking plates of hors d'oeuvres around to all the guests. Out with the first platter (these things had to of weighed 15 pounds each!), all the food was scooped up almost immediately so I turned to go back into the kitchen when the door swung open, and WHAM. I collided with another server coming out, knocking my platter unsteady in my hands and sending the bowl of tomato sauce (ketchup) that was the dip for the meat pies I was carrying (yes, they eat meat pies dipped in ketchup - sick!), to the floor. Bouncing off the other server's foot, the bowl unfortunately did not break, but did make a grand splash not only all over the floor , but up onto the back of the stage narrowly concealing the kitchen to the rest of the room, the entire wall along the kitchen, up onto an extremely expensive painting hanging in the event venue (a part of a temporary art installation currently being displayed.) My attempt at making a good first impression: FAIL. I used almost an entire roll of paper towels to quickly wipe up the damage before having another tray shoved at me and hurried back into the crowd. I became known as crazy tie girl by the end of the night and had little hope of redeeming myself (especially when intoxicated old me asked if they could take pictures with me.)

All three scenarios - completely different (and somewhat humiliating) experiences, but all in the name of footy. My weekend of sports came to an end, along with my American sports pride, but there is always this coming weekend to look forward to, and hopefully a second chance at cocktail serving and not making a fool of myself.

Stereotypical Australia.

Sightseeing took up the rest of our time spent in Sydney and I quickly soon realized, this is the Stereotypical Australia everyone envisions (minus the Outback of course). Saturday we ventured to Manley Beach first. Stepping out of the car and looking towards the water was exactly what I expected: Southbeach mixed with the French Riviera with a hint of Lake Como, Italy and major Los Angeles influences.

A towering wall full of graffiti separated the street from the beach, a perfect backdrop for the skateboarding competition taking place. Then heading further down, a mass of warm, soft sand - a perfect pathway to the amazingly clear water which was swarming with nothing but eager (and attractive!) surfers, waiting for the exactly right wave to come sweep them back to shore. This was exactly what I pictured Sydney to be.

We headed then to Manly Beach, a 45 minute drive. Here, the beach was separated from the street by a distinct line of pine trees that looked more like bristle brushes (called Norfolk Island Pines). This beach had more of charm with its waterfront shops, restaurants and hotels and a boardwalk center, all decked out with tourists, locals, and an outdoor market. Going for a long run up and down the boardwalk, as well as up into the hills (which reminded me of Austin, TX hill country) was a gorgeous and relaxing/mind clearing hour. I tracked up into the rocky hillside of overlooking Shelly Beach (crystal clear and full of coral and fish - perfect place for snorkeling). We ate dinner beachside, watching the sunset and headed back home, exhausted and sandy - but totally refreshed and fulfilled.

Day 2 and 3 of exploring was the most stereotypical in that we went to the Sydeny Harbour Bridge (yes, this was part of Opera Winfrey's great big adventure and she got stuck at the top because she was too scared to come down.)

                                                                                

The Opera House (up close looks like it is decorated with sea shells and is more of an off-white color. The interior is completely art deco with odes to it's 1970's completion.)

We saw the aquarium (not as cool as I would have expected, but the sea animals did look like they were straight out of Finding Nemo, including Sea Gulls that made me laugh just thinking of them breaking out into: "Mine! Mine! Mine!")

The Taronga Zoo (a cliffside zoo that you had to take a sky life to the entrance and work your way back down the hillside. Filled with every native Australian animal you can think of, plus elephants, zebras, crocs, etc. We were entertained by a baby elephant for about 20 minutes - watching him try to drag a tire tied with chain out of his watering hole, and after sucessfully doing so - he threw it right back in.) Every landmark was exactly what I had pictured (minus how the bay was laid out - I always pictured the Opera House and Bridge right off the ocean and both being almost like a port. Instead, the Harbour is more inland and there are tons of alcoves which ferries tour around in circles, busing tourists, including us, and professionals from one side of town to the other.) 

My favorite stop was the Botanical Gardens, which I turned into the backdrop of my runs for the next two days. There are Ibis birds flying everywhere (scavengers who literally would attack tables yet to be cleared from lunch and scour all the plates clean), trees full of bats (yes - bats) and cockatoos, turtles, you name it.

Day 3 was spent with the kids. I attempted to take them to Luna Park (the famous amusement park right on the edge of the harbour), but of course it is closed every Tuesday! So instead we trampsed around Sydney, saw an iMax movie, went to a museum and had a bayside lunch.A great city and a great holiday leaving me itching to see more!