Let me preface this by saying I'm not a writer; nor do I have aspirations to be. The past two years I have been writing a lot of academic papers and in fact had one instructor tell me I should write a book (should have kept his notes as I'm sure no one would believe that). My point is, don't expect anything along the lines of To Kill a Mockingbird but more along the lines of a mediocre attempt at poking fun at myself as I stumble through life down under.
I have been here 12 days now. Although I love Australia and the Aussies, the adjustment was not as easy as I would have thought. I could sum up the reason in one word – winter. When I was packing during my 72 hour turnaround I was in denial about how cold 50 degrees is. I convinced myself long sleeves and a sweater would suffice. Wrong! With my thin blood, I should have known better. Moral of the story – winter is winter. Pack a coat or you will be running around a strange city trying to find a coat that will work for both casual and business during a lunch break. The next challenge is figuring out what size. So I normally wear a 6 (sometimes an 8) so imagine my surprise when I tried on a 10 and couldn’t even get it on (ended up with a 14 so either I’ve gained a lot of weight or they size things differently in the Northern Hemisphere – and of course as a woman you have to believe the latter).
I have been here 12 days now. Although I love Australia and the Aussies, the adjustment was not as easy as I would have thought. I could sum up the reason in one word – winter. When I was packing during my 72 hour turnaround I was in denial about how cold 50 degrees is. I convinced myself long sleeves and a sweater would suffice. Wrong! With my thin blood, I should have known better. Moral of the story – winter is winter. Pack a coat or you will be running around a strange city trying to find a coat that will work for both casual and business during a lunch break. The next challenge is figuring out what size. So I normally wear a 6 (sometimes an 8) so imagine my surprise when I tried on a 10 and couldn’t even get it on (ended up with a 14 so either I’ve gained a lot of weight or they size things differently in the Northern Hemisphere – and of course as a woman you have to believe the latter).
Of course my BFF Murphy is my ever loyal constant companion. He has made sure that I had some misadventures along the way which has prompted a few to tell me I should be blogging for prosperity.
For instance…
Because it was raining last night, I had to borrow an umbrella from the concierge desk last to go to dinner (I would eat at the hotel but it is a little too spendy). After filling out a two page form and showing my passport (I kid you not) I was given an umbrella along with a set of instructions. I threw the instructions out as I walked out the door. Of course, it didn’t operate like an ‘American’ umbrella so I had trouble getting it up. Fortunately, I was protected under an awning as I figured out how to operate the darn thing. I walked across the street to a food court for a piece of pizza but wasn’t as fortunate as before. I stood outside the food court at the casino and got soaked as I tried to fold it back up. Seriously, how hard can it be to engineer an umbrella that open and closes? I had been craving chocolate for a few days so I decided to walk to the 7-11 for chocolate. At least this time was able to fold the umbrella more quickly as I was becoming an expert at this point. I wanted to have something I couldn’t find in the states so I probably took 15 minutes to find the right chocolate bar. Then I saw the price of my first choice and ultimately decided that I didn’t want to spend 3.50 on a candy bar when I could buy 2 for $4 (not my first choice but was Cadbury and not something I typically have at home). So I stick the two bars in the pocket of my hoodie and walk out of the store (yes, I did pay for them) and immediately the umbrella blew up when I opened it which again lent me to getting soaked. Finally after getting the umbrella working I head back to the hotel. As I’m crossing the street (had to hurry as it went from flashing red to solid red and the drivers here do not believe in yield to pedestrians) I heard something drop. I get to the other side and reach in my pocket and sure enough I dropped not one but both candy bars. As I’m debating of whether or not I should go back for them a taxi rushes buy and runs over both. I felt like I was in a bad situation comedy. I guess the moral is I didn’t need the chocolate. Needless to say I was bummed but too wet and frustrated to walk back to the store. Sigh. It just wasn't my day.
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