a dingo ate your baby.

multiple times per day i find myself saying, to whomever I’m with, “oh my god. we live here.” this is usually sparked after an event such as seeing my toes while swimming in the pacific, eating breakfast outside among sounds of parakeets and swoon-worthy accents, or seeing a sydney postcard and realizing that it is not merely an insane panoramic picture—it’s my backyard.

therefore, my biggest fear is missing something. my aussie hit list of must-see places expands every time i talk to someone from around here. it seems there are must-see locals everywhere on this island. speaking of this being an island, the “long beach island everything is interconnected theory” holds true, once again. a boy i met on lbi years ago (who i almost didn’t remember) is apparently in sydney. the ‘apparently’ faded when he approached my friend and i in a bar on our first night with the most hilariously profane pick-up line i’ve ever heard. it’s a small world after all, over and over again.

back to important things, like my resolution to go in the pacific ocean blue every single day. exceptions will be made only for lightning storms or extreme weather advisories. i have also resolved to drink only two liquids: water and wine. exceptions made for cereal on milk and australian beer. so far, so awesome, but i’ll keep you posted on progress. cheer for me.

now, i would have said “root” for me there, but in this lovely country, “to root” is a sexual verb that is absolutely not related to cheering for a team or person. thus, the phrase “i was rooting for the whole boston college football team!” would be especially dangerous. other entertaining slang i’ve come across includes “woop woop,” the aussie equivalent of middle of nowhere/our “bumblefuck,” “bob’s your uncle,” meaning “there you have it!,” and “that’ll be apples,” meaning “it’ll be just fine.” on the flip side, australians are quite entertained with some of our words. however, when i say things like dickhouse, fooligan, or que ganga, i must explain that it’s really not a typical american deal.

no surfboard yet. sadly, the beach right by my apartment isn’t a surfing beach, so (once i own a grand ol’ board) i will join the hardcore dudes who take their boards on the bus. i’m getting antsy watching the waves without riding them, though i have four months to surf and tempt the sharks. patience, patience, patience.

this country is a particularly good teacher of patience, actually. everything here moves slower in the most beautiful of ways. you wait twenty minutes to get a restaurant bill, you drive slower (side note on driving: the left side of the road thing is going to land me on the hood of a car soon), you talk slower. and then there’s the whole relaxation and living your life thing that they’re so keen on. for instance, i was at the beach today, relaxing, and i know why i’m relaxing (i’m on a four month vacation and my life’s a joke) but why was everyone else there?! 2pm on a thursday, and the whole world was at the beach. people here work a whole lot less and view americans, rightly so, as living to work whereas they work just a means to live their life exactly how they want to. if possible, this makes me want a job even less.

most importantly, i’m going to the zoo on saturday. thus, next time i report the whole entry will, no doubt, be consumed with my kangaroo infatuation. be ready.

the end.

love,

kasey