"if the goon is good for you, you should be good for the goon."

Those of you who know me well, or have lived with me, are aware of the arsenal of vitamins I keep under my bed. So imagine, for a moment, me in Australia, rummaging underneath my bed trying to find my multivitamins and Emergen-C. Then imagine the color draining from my face and my saying “Oh shit!” aloud, twice. The first time, casually, because I thought I didn’t have enough multivitamins left for the rest of my time here. The second time, worlds more upset, because I counted and realized that I did and as soon as (what seemed like so few) of those vitamins were gone, so was I.

So prompted by a freaking jar of multivitamins, I’ve made the painful realization that time is picking up the pace for my final month on this glorious island. And now that the tick-tick-boom of the clock is the loudest it’s been, I do believe it’s time to kick this life into the highest gear. I’ll sleep, take care of myself, save money, and be a responsible citizen when I get back to CTholla.

For instance, there’s a good chance I have tonsillitis. Thus, I was faced with a decision today: see a doctor or go surfing. Anyway, the waves were wonderful and I’ll make an appointment for tomorrow. Priorities? Check. Seriously though, the “saltwater heals all” theory is proven further. I completely wiped out once, spin-cycle under water, bonked on the head by my board, etc. As a result, I swallowed a mouthful of Pacific goodness. And, no surprise, my throat felt light years better once I got out of surf! Thus, I walked home feeling better, wonderfully sandy wetsuit over my shoulder, a single rose in one hand (gifted to me by a very drunk, very friendly 40+year old Australian man), 50-cent ice cream cone in the other, and barefoot. Today was the exact medicine I needed.

In other news, we partied with the Australian water polo team this weekend. As in: The Professional Australian Water Polo Team. I was impressed with the fact that some of them qualified for the Olympics. I was more impressed with the fact that they ensured that all of us always had a beer in hand. Thanks, team! Much appreciated.

In other sports and alcohol related news (of which there is, surprisingly, plenty of) last weekend I spent the best $20 of my life. Seriously. Twenty bucks got each of us: a gift bag (including chocolate, shampoo/conditioner, picture frame, perfume, massage thing, plenty of weird shit), raffle tickets, unlimited champagne and wine, unlimited Red Bull, unlimited food (including wraps and meat pies!), and entrance to a full day of Aussie rugby games! When’s the last time a twenty got anyone that much wonder? Answer: never. Although the money didn’t exactly buy us the sunshine and new friends, such things were also enjoyed. Days like this make me fall head over heels (for the millionth time) for this nation. In further sports-alcohol related news, Beer Olympics were held on the beach this weekend. I was a spectator, loved it, and didn’t go more than two minutes without laughing. It was quite a spectacle. Miraculously, booze-in-public laws were magically overlooked for the festivities.

We have already christened next weekend as Australian Immersion Weekend. We’ve realized there are plenty of things we’ve been intending to do that remain undone, so why not pack them into 48 hours? Surfing all morning on Friday. Famous fish market (largest in world?) post-surf. Friday night: bar on harbor (aka the goal is to drink while in view of the bridge). Saturday: Randwick races! Horse races=big doins’ here. Needed: fancy dress, big goofy hat, betting money. Sunday: AFL game to watch some men (in wildly short shorts and not nearly enough protective padding) battle, pretty much.

This weekend extravaganza is dependent, of course, on my making it through this week. Apparently, in Australia sometimes, I need to do work. I never consented to this, didn’t realize this was part of the deal. Bad timing that just as I mandate the need to kick Living into high gear, school also kicks itself into high gear. All shall be well, though. I’ll just keep swimming, just keep swimming, just keep swimming.

In related news, I’m now teaching two girls (my age) how to swim. Wild! So far, so good. I’ve got one of them floating and the other swimming on her back. We are all quite proud of these accomplishments.

It’s approaching winter here? Question mark in place because I am still wearing flops and t-shirts. And because I spent all day at the beach today. It’s cooler than it was, but it still smells like summer to me. Australians, though, are freaking out about how cold it is! My Aussie dude friend wore a HAT the other day. I wore a tank top. It’s all relative.

If I have to leave this paradise at some point, and apparently I do, it’s pretty sweet to leave right as it becomes officially winter here and to return to the heart of summer at home. Endless summer quest? Looking good.

Also looking good for the next month: road trip to Brisbane, Surfer’s Paradise, Byron Bay annnnnd, perhaps, a little trip to this place called FIJI. Fingers crossed (and wallet open).

I still miss all your pretty faces. And I’m sorry I’m failing, major league, on postcards. I shall up my game asap.

The end.

Love,

Kasey