sorry for my most recent m.i.a. status on here. if it's any consolation, i've been only slacking on my blog, not in my life. anyway, there's no way to possibly cover, chronologically and interestingly, all i've neglected to write about in the last month. so i'll dish the shiniest, silliest, most glorious parts in ridiculous, jumpy, unrelated, chapter snippets. ready? go!
chapter one: nemo's location: no longer a mystery
for how obsessed i am with the ocean and all its glory, i find it a bit nuts that i hadn’t explored meters below the sea until now. scuba is officially added to my list of favorite verbs. we checked up on coral, clown fish, sting rays, oh my. there are few things more baller than breathing thirty feet underwater. one thing more baller than that, though, would be breathing thirty feet underwater among one of the wonders of the world. scuba diving in the great barrier reef? great (barrier) success. and the life goal checks keep on swooshin’…
chapter two: the third time i signed my life away in a week
this chapter title is no exaggeration—extreme activities require some serious waivers. so, by the third time i was presented with paperwork including phrases like “in the instance of serious injury or death, i hereby hold [whoever it is i’m entrusting my life to today] in no way responsible and thus give up all my legal rights,” i just skimmed and signed the dotted line. YOLOB. anyway, this final feat was certainly the most extreme. just climb stairs for a good twenty minutes, try not to look down/process how high you are, reach the top, have some random tattooed dude tie some cord to your ankles, smile for the camera, and jump to your adventure/death! who WOULDN’T want to bungy jump? but in all seriousness—one of the best things i have ever done. worth every dollar and every risk. the rush is beyond words, though closely illustrated by some dudes we met at the top who live there and continue to go every single weekend! one day when i’m older… for now, though, life goal: bungy jump and survive—check!
chapter three: no shoes allowed
so over break we lived on a boat for three days and, although i didn’t think it possible, i fell in love with the sea a little bit more. i knew the trip would be good news as we all gathered on the dock before we took off. some dude (who would soon prove to be The Man and part of our crew) requested that we all take off our shoes, put them in the canvas bag he was holding, and informed us we’d get them back in three days. barefoot life is the best life. the cruise/scuba boat/popeye lifestyle vessel was also BYOB. given that it was mostly 20-somethings and that glass wasn’t permitted, we all brought bags of goon (think franzia). The Man gave us a marker, told us to mark our bags and toss it in the “booze trolley” (which was glimmering with countless silver bags of deliciously cheap wine). Among other sweet adventures on the boat excursion in the whitsunday islands, we checked out whitehaven beach (voted second best beach in the world according to the all-knowing national geographic!), went snorkeling and scuba diving daily, fell asleep in the sun on the (ever comfy) nets on the boat, made friends and created silly, goon-inspired games at night. i’m quite into the saying on the shirt we bought on the boat: “sooner or later, we’re all gonna DIVE.” word.
chapter four: fourth of july amped on speed and aussies
imagine marathon monday, christmas, your birthday, veteran’s day, and the fourth of july all rolled into one, and that, my friends, is australia’s ANZAC day. technically, it’s their veteran’s day equivalent…but it’s celebrated like nothing i have ever seen. i received a text from an australian dude at 10am informing me that he was already 8 beers deep. …and that was status quo. after dawn services (that i couldn’t muster the energy for at 530am), australia pours it down. and it lasts All. Day. Long. sunshine, booze, and service men everywhere you look. oh ANZAC. between drunk sailors and my friend who won serious money gambling that day, i spent a grand total of $0. at the risk of being repetitive, this country rules.
chapter five: the secret lives of hostel employees
for some reason that i will never understand (but always appreciate), the hostel staff in cairns decided to take us under their wings. when the staff are superlatively friendly, the hostel has its own bar, and you don’t know the city, this is like hitting a gold mine. besides showing us two insane days, they gave me a little peak into the more insane lives hostel staffers live. example: we played “never have i ever” with them. in a dozen rounds, i don’t think either of us put a single finger down. for more (entertaining but inappropriate) details, shout me a holla.
chapter six: fearless tour guide ends beerless tourists
our tour guide on fraser island (which in itself, ruled…fraser island=largest sand island in the world) was in a league of his own. He reminded me of the lovable, chubby sidekick from a popular sitcom. if you stalk my fbook and see this picture of ‘craig,’ please tell me what character he seems like. anyway, we went 4WD on the beach and this dude drove our bus over 4 foot rock faces! More than once we had a group of tourists surround the bus, audibly gasp, take pictures of us trying to scale rocks, and when we made it (as we always did), erupt with a load of clapping. craig also made us cookies, tea, and told jokes. he also poured his heart over beer (that he bought for EVERYONE) about how he was going to be a father. i told him he’s gonna be top notch. i miss craig everyday.
chapter seven: irish invasion tour 2k9
the world does not know a party until ireland, relocated to australia, shows them one. we met up with my roommate’s irish boy and, oh, 24 of his closest lads. and, to make matters more irish, we were at an irish pub. and to make matters more rowdy, the entire shindig was a going away party for one of said lads, thus, all in serious celebratory mode. the accent (which i fondly refer to as the ‘language barrier’ as it can be tough to understand!) is quite endearing. we made many of the lads count to five for us (“one, two, tree, four, five”). as a result of the irish invasion, i simply cannot wait to hit up ireland.
chapter eight:$2 steaks: "the best thing that ever happened to me"
i think i’ve already gushed about how i love steak night dearly. (on wednesdays, if you buy a $4 beer, you get a full steak for $2 and it’s all kinds of awesome). point being, i heard this same quote TWICE today from two different people. further proof of $2 steak’s power.
chapter nine: 1976: how we made friends in their thirties
let’s first spit the fact that within the last week i have advised two 30+ men on marital issues. add to that the fact that I receive texts from a 34 year old woman, who i might deem my coolest friend. add to these that, collectively, we’ve been added by at least a dozen 30+ers on facebook. if this sounds creepy, it isn’t. too long for one chapter. shout a holla for whole tale.
chapter ten: inked asses (and other poor decisions)
i walk by tattoo parlor. i wave as we’re (somehow) friends with dudes in there. “yo kase! come back! i got my ass tattooed” says my dude friend. i assume he’s lying. “oh yeah. what of?” “your name!” i laugh “right. see you later bud!” so i see him later. i ask, with a smile, how his ass is. “you don’t believe me?” “not at all.” in public, pulls down his pants. on one cheek, in cursive, ‘Your Name,’ on the other, the outline (traced with tattoo needle) of his friend’s HAND. i am floored. “DUDE! regrets?” “aw no girl! i’ve already made money on it! i keep betting people at the bar that i have their name tattooed on my ass, they don’t believe me, i moon them, they see i’m right, annnnd they buy me a beer. i’m already making profits. it’s been a good economic move.” Total Nonsense.
chapter eleven: failing australian school (and other false alarms)
i got back papers in my creative writing and health & healing classes. both had generally positive remarks. one was a 76, one was a 77. i think, “shit. this isn’t working out so well. i tried on that shit!” then i decide maybe it ought to check out an aussie-american grade conversion table. turns out anything above a 75 means A. viiictory!
chapter twelve: stranger than fiction: bizarre characters along the way
cherry sun and hong j.: eccentric lesbians who lived on the boat with us. lots of pda. obsessed with the film finding nemo. hong j. was very commonly cited taking pictures of cherry sun whilst she danced with a sarong or ribbon in the wind.
‘denmark’: real name: unknown. personality: unknown (due to lack of talking). age: 25? notable feature: never ever seen without his yo-yo.
‘sunshine’: real name: also unknown. only notable feature: never seen without his anti-sunshine umbrella, even in shade.
chapter thirteen: australia trusts us unconditionally?
mariah and i arrive at airport. we check in. they offer to change our seats to exit row (‘sup leg room?) and to move them together (‘sup friendship?). we happily accept. we go through security. we check in at gate. we board plane. we sit down, take off, and land five minutes early. never once in this entire process did they ask for ANY form of identification. and we took water bottles. WOW.
chapter fourteen: is that beer or pool water?: how to lose and win simultaneously
on break, we came across a bar with trivia night. we think, “we’re smart broads, we have a shot! maybe we’ll win and get the $100 bar tab prize!” we enter. after round one, we’re eating shit. after rounds two, three, and four, we’re in deeper shit. by the end, it is clear we have lost in a big, big way. what we were not aware of, however, was that last place team is “required” to jump in the pool next to the bar, either fully naked or clothed, in front of all. and, as compensation, the jumpers are given a free jug of beer. we hesitated for a hot second, i told mariah we had to do it, for story’s sake. we looked at each other, nodded, and ran into the pool (clothed) holding hands. it was a sight to be seen. i don’t remember the last time so many people clapped for me. we made a lot of friends that night. i call this quite the triumph.
chapter fifteen: glorious graffiti
on the walk to school everyday, i smile when i pass the block on which the following was written on wet (long since dry) cement: skate today, as tomorrow it may rain.
chapter sixteen: mooches and pooches
one of my friends here lives in a house with twelve people. she was recently complaining about this one dude she lives with who steals everyone’s food. i ask her if it’s a rare thing or if it’s actually a big deal. she tells me that he recently admitted to not having gone grocery shopping once since we’ve been here. i think this is hilarious/nuts. in the pooches aspect, i am falling in love with every dog in this country. after a bizarre turn of events last week, i wound up sleeping on a couch with a puppy. easily the best night/best face to wake up to.
chapter seventeen: passing on america's pastime: NYM in SYD
as you may or may not be aware, there is no major league baseball in this country. this is one of australia’s only faults. thankfully, one of my australian friends is both aware of my mets obsession and gets some serious cable annnnd recorded the mets/phillies game for me! best ever. better yet was watching it with a group of aussie dudes as they asked endearingly simple questions (as their games are cricket, afl, rugby, not american baseball). “hey kasey- how many innings in this?” “how many times do they get to bat?” “what does rbi stand for?” in this country, at least, i am guru of all things baseball.
chapter eighteen: freshie
we have a new roommate! long story, but bottom line: other roomie receives message from a girl from her freshman year dorm, girl is in sydney, girl is living in hostel, we have extra bed, we invite her to move in. all will be grand so long as housing doesn’t find out (that we are violating some serious contracts that we signed). but she cooks for us! and she’s friendly! these attributes? key. we call her freshie because she’s new to all the australian nonsense, culture, scene, slang, boys, etc. we are breaking her in gently. we are such wonderful (and humble) mentors.
chapter nineteen: upset middle-aged women sensitive to noise and joy
if our neighbor read chapter 18, she would turn us in. she doesn’t like us because we are not church mice. read: she has already logged formal noise complaints about us evennnn though we are ever-nice to her, quiet down the moment she asks, and still (abiding by rules) have not thrown a party here. thankfully the study abroad ladies like us and realize that our neighbor is more lonely than we are loud.
chapter twenty: zoom, zoom.
as in the mazda commercial, but also as in how terribly violently quickly TIME is zooming. more than halfway done. i don’t want any more sand to filter through the hour glass. buuuut it seems that even though i still don’t have a watch/clock/calendar/assignment book/any time organization, i cannot control time. so i just enjoy it.
in conclusion, i'm happy as a clam and plane tickets here are cheaper than they have ever been. read: come be happy with me
the end.
love,
kasey
