Sook

"Sook": a person who is timid, soft, and/or generally weak.

Me: "Ugh, my fingers are frozen."
Classmate: "Yeah, I'm such a sook when it comes to cold weather."

It's currently 40 degrees F and I absolutely hate it. Unfortunately, it's still autumn and is just going to just get colder. The Ozzies tell me that if I think it's cold now, I should wait until it hits June. UGGGHH. If anything, the weather is making me itch for sunny California. I suppose I did time my EAP experience somewhat correctly. Theoretically, the weather will get crappy enough to make me want to return home, as opposed to me leaving when everything's just starting to get sunny and dandy.

Instead of studying for my midterm, I watched Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix while I ate dinner. My intention was to watch the kissing scene between Harry and Cho, as I had previously thought I didn't see it. As I was watching the movie though, I had the strange sensation of deja vu. Some parts of the movie were starting to look really familiar, but how could that be when I don't recall seeing Cho and Harry lock lips? When the highly anticipated scene actually arrived however, I soon realized that I did see it before. I had just forgotten I'd seen it because it was so spectacularly DISAPPOINTING. Considering that scene had at least 30 takes, I would expect to see a little more passion. C'mon, Daniel Radcliffe, you're supposed to be a randy teenager!

Speaking of randiness, I got that terminology from one of my many zoology professors. Kath Hanasyde is away on a research excursion to the Galapagos (lucky devil) and Raoul Mulder is off doing who knows what, so the subject is being taught by researchers. The current one goes by the name of Michael and I gotta say, he's not too bad on the eyes (unfortunately, he's also married. Figures.) Micheal has this wonderful way of describing the animals he's lecturing on, especially the reptiles. For example, in one lecture he went on for 15 minutes about the dangers of "randy male snakes" and the "sexy legs" of the green tree frogs.

I almost forgot to mention that I caught a baby mouse last week. I'm not sure what type of mouse it actually was, but it was young enough that it couldn't run very fast, but old enough to have a full coat of baby fine fur. I couldn't leave it in the middle of the road (it was next to the Zoology greenhouse) so I picked it up and carried it to Lab with me. It promptly bit me, which hurt a little but not enough to be bothersome. I should have just left it to fend for itself, because once I got to lab, the professor immediately saw that I was carrying something nonacademic-related and I had to take it to the Zoology office. There, the mouse was stuffed into a jar and I was ordered back to my classroom. I later found out that my professor ordered it to be killed. :(

Alright, it's almost midnight now and I'm determined to finish at least one lecture tonight. Bye!

Knock Off

"Knock off": a phrase that means to "get off the clock" or "end your shift" for work. I'm not sure if this is specifically an Ozzie phrase, but my coworkers use it on me so often that I figure it can't just be them.

Me: "I'm getting tired."
Coworker: "You wanna knock off at 9 p.m. then?"

The first time my coworker said that, I thought he meant if I wanted to get knocked up, which obviously makes zero sense. Luckily, I decided to ask him to repeat himself instead of responding inappropriately.

Work at Il Carretto is going relatively well now that I'm getting the hang of things. Sure, I still look like a n00b when I ask customers to repeat their orders, but at least I'm not messing them up anymore. I think I'm going to apply to be a waitress once I get back home. I love the fact that I get to go home with a pocketful of cash and a free meal, even if I do get crap from customers. I know some people can't stand apologizing for things they didn't do, and God knows you have to do that all the time as a waitress. Strangely enough though, it doesn't really bother me as much. Perhaps it's the fact that I don't really mean it when I apologize for the slow arrival of the meals or some other retarded setback. I just plaster on my fake smile, slap some honey on my so-sorries and please-excuses and then walk away feeling I just got away with the biggest lie of my life. Hm, that actually doesn't sound too pleasant. I swear I'm not selling my soul, you guys. It's just customer service. :) Besides, Il Carretto's pasta is dee-lish, and my free meal costs at least ten bucks.

My cousin Laney put up this music video of Sara Bareilles' "Love Song" on her Facebook, and ever since I watched it, I've been hearing that song everywhere. I didn't particularly like it at first, but now I've developed a faint attraction towards it. It's very catchy and certain phrases really jump out at me. For some reason, it reminded me a part of this poem I once wrote a long time ago:
and my coursing blood
drummed Love's tattoo
upon my chest.
Of course, it looks completely unrelated now that I think about it. Oh well.

School is picking up now that the term is drawing to a close. I have two sports papers, one book analysis, one philosophy paper, and a zoology paper due in the next two weeks. Oh, I almost forgot to mention a zoology midterm on Friday. Can I say screwed? Yet, here I am blogging away at midnight, having accomplished nothing productive the whole day except going to class. W00t.

Bushwalker

"Bushwalker": basically a hiker, therefore bushwalking would be hiking.

"So where's the echidna?" I asked.
"He's gone on a bushwalk," said my professor.

Wow, I'm getting worse on this updating thing. It's supposed to be everyday, but now it's turning into a weekly thing. Anyway, last weekend I had my three day hiking trip to Wilson's Promontory for my philosophy class. I'll go into more detail about it later, but basically I learned that maybe I wasn't as outdoorsy as I thought I was. Though I don't mind the strenuous bushwalking and the sweat, I really hate climbing into my sleeping bag grimy. I also hate sand and crap in my sleeping bag. It's just the feeling of having to go to bed with the dirt from a seven hour hike on me really bothers me. I like the feeling of washing off a hard day's work and climbing into a relatively clean bed. This may prove problematic if I ever decide to hardcore backpack around the country.

Today I went to Philip's Island and saw pelicans that were literally half my size. They reminded me of the giant pterodactyls from Jurassic Park. We then headed to the Koala Conservation Centre, where the koalas were being their usual exciting selves. Cape Woolamai was next, where we were supposed to see these special seabirds that migrate all the way from Japan to Australia on a yearly basis. Unfortunately, their brooding sites were bare as they were still at sea, but they were supposed to be the seabird version of a crow and nest everywhere on the cliff's vegetation.
The highlight of the trip came next, which was the Philip Island Wildlife Park. It was the best animal feeding experience ever! These kangaroos/wallabies/birds actually want to be fed, unlike the ones in the Brisbane conservation centre. I felt like I was practically force-feeding the animals there. At the Philip Island one, these kangaroos practically mob you. In fact, they'll try to eat the paper bag right out of your hand (which many did). It was also the first time I actually got to pet a kangaroo/wallaby. They weren't as plush as they looked and actually quite slobbery, but still cute nonetheless. The wallabies are defintely much softer to pet and possibly even cuter up close. :) Oh, and I also had the chance to get up close and personal with the cassowaries. Undoubtedly the scariest-looking and equally dangerous birds in Oz, they're actually very polite eaters. Unlike the kangaroos who scratch and tear at you, the cassowaries just neatly pluck a few pellets from your palm and toss it into their gullets.

The last stop of the evening was at the Little Penguin Parade, aka the march of the Fairy Penguins. Around 6/7 p.m, these cuddly little creatures stagger out of the surf to return to their burrows after a long day of foraging at sea. It's so adorable to see them drifting around in "rafts" (groups of 4+ penguins) and nervously scurrying about the waves before making a mad dash for the sand dunes. They sound a little like ducks when they call out to each other. I couldn't really take any good pictures during this time because no photography was allowed. The rangers are worried that the flash would scare them, so to eliminate any accidental flash photography, they just banned recording equipment of any kind. I still saw a few people taking pictures though, so I am resentful of that. >(

Tomorrow I'm to meet at Uni for my surfing trip at 7 a.m. Hopefully I'll be back at 4:30 p.m. like it said on the site, because I have to shower and get ready for work at 6:30. I seriously regret signing up for so many trips and then cramming them all together in one month. Way to go, Camille.

It's been freezing cold and rainy the last few days, but my roommates say it's a sign that Melbourne winter is settling in. "Just wait until it hits June!" said Zoe. Ugh, I am definitely not looking forward to it. At least I'll be able to wear my spiffy new rain jacket.

Good on ya

"Good on ya": Australian slang for "good job" or "well done."

Me: "Professor Raol, I've finished identifying the fairy wrens."
Professor: "Good on ya."
Me: "What? Where is it?"
Professor: "Camille, there's nothing on you. I meant to say, 'Good job.' "
Me: "...Oh."

If you can't tell by now, I've encountered many, many embarrassing situations. It's okay, the frequency has rapidly diminished to about two per week. Yay!

So I've taken a break from writing my paper to blog for a bit. Okay, who am I kidding, I wrote about half a page and then promptly fell asleep on my laptop. I then had a fitful dream about having an affair with my professor and then somehow getting caught by a jealous classmate. My professor and I were then thrown in court, where I bumped into his wife who kept crying and screaming at me. The judge then ruled that I would have to share custody of the kids, which was really random, not to mention completely illogical. I woke up with my heart going a hundred miles a hour.

I have another Education field trip coming up (which, coincidentally enough, means I will be spending even more time with aforementioned professor). This one is going to be a three day hike in Wilson's Promontory. I'm really excited about this one, since the scenery looks gorgeous in the photos. I hope the weather is warm!

My farmer trip has gotten me thinking how nice it would be to live in a farm. I would love to have a little white cottage, a vegetable garden with an orchard, some chickens, a dairy cow, a couple of sheep, a horse or two and a Kelpie. I would be able to sustain myself quite comfortably and life would be blissfully simple. My dad had always told us how his dream was to retire on a little farm. Realistically, it's impossible on his wages, but it is a nice goal.

Today I discovered that one of Zoe's friends "fancies" me, as my other British roommate puts it.
"Camille, do you remember Aaron?" she asked me as I was washing dishes.
"Who?" I said, having no clue who Aaron was.
"The American guy who came over a few nights ago?"
I still had no idea.
"He was about -this- high?"
Still no clue.
"Well, he wants to ask you out on a date."
".....Excuse me?"
Zoe grinned at me with obvious delight, while in the background, I hear a voice shout, "He faaaancies youu!!" "Aw, come on, Camille! He's quite nice," she said.
"Um, does he even know me?" I asked. I still had no idea who this guy is, and it was starting to bother me.
"No, but he wants to! That's why he's asking you out on a date."
I had a brief moment in which I thought, "Eh, why not?" but quickly shook it off and told her to politely decline for me. Though blind dates are romantic in movies, I doubt they work in real life. Besides, dating my roommate's friend would be so awkward.

Alrighty, time to call it a night. Tomorrow I'm supposed to head to Stanley Park to do my wildlife practical on the local birds, rush off to another class and then to work, respectively.

She'll be right

"She'll be right": a phrase that basically means "it'll be okay," or "don't worry, it'll work itself out." It's tied to the general laid-back attitude of Australian mentality. The gender word "she" doesn't really mean anything. I guess it's along the same line as referring to a boat as "she."

Me: "So I'm basically screwed for nursing, because I suck at chemistry, there's a super long list of prereqs and the ones I did fulfill I did extremely poorly in."
Australian friend: "Aw, she'll be right, Camille."
Me: "Who will be right?"

This past weekend was wonderful! I had my two day field excursion for my philosophy class, Education in Natural Landscapes. We visited two sheep farms, a winery, a piggery, an ostrich farm and stayed in an old-fashioned shearer's lodge. I also helped herd sheep and cuddled a piglet, which was definitely fun. Piglets are sooo cute! They're very shy at first, but after they have time to get used to you, they grunt for you to pet them. However, I definitely think that the best part was bonding with my classmates. Has anyone played a card game called Bortak (sp?) before? This Norwegian guy introduced the game to us, and it's really fun. I'll teach it to you guys sometime.

I also got to really know my philosophy professor. Teachers at Australia are so informal that it's a little disconcerting. He insisted that we call him John, and during dinner, he plunked down right next to me.
"So Camille," he said. "I noticed that you jumped right in there when the farmer asked for volunteers to help herd the sheep."
I was a little taken aback by his sudden appearance, so I stammered a bit. "Uh-um yeah, I really like animals."
"I also noticed that you were talking to the farmer a lot about shearing."
"Yeah, I had a few questions about their tools."
"Do you know that shearers use special adhesive gloves to hold onto the sheep?"
"Yes."
"Do you know the running joke about those gloves?"
I started to sense something was up, but answered anyway. "No...?"
"Well," said my professor, "the joke was that shearers liked to wear those gloves because when they grab sheep..." he trailed off and instead held out his hands like he was holding a very large ball. Before I could nervously ask what he was doing, he then suddenly launched into a series of pelvic thrusts.

I stared at him in astonishment, at a loss of words. I was unused to bestiality jokes coming from quiet, balding, philosophy professors, especially professors who are very soft-spoken and have two young children. Luckily, I managed to collect my wits in time, laughed gaily and then quickly dug into my salad. Nonetheless, I think he has just become one of my favorite professors.

So I just had my third day of work at my new job. I'm getting a little better at it, even though I did have a huge mess-up yesterday. Last night was the AFL game between the Melbourne Blues and Collingwood. Everyone hates Collingwood and especially their fans, who are "gap-toothed, drunken wife-beaters," according to my Australian classmate. Luckily, the Blues won, so the restaurant was filled with footy fans. That, plus the fact that it was Sunday night (always a busy night) meant the place was filled to bursting. The kitchen was backed up and there was literally a hour long wait for the customers to get their food. Camille was not a happy camper. I ended up taking orders for a table of ten for the very first time. First off, they spewed orders at me from all directions. I couldn't tell who ordered what. Secondly, I was still very unfamiliar with the menu (my fault) so I didn't know half the stuff I was taking down. Thirdly, almost everyone wanted adjustments to their orders.
"Can I have the pineapple pizza, except instead of pineapple, can I have garlic?"
"My husband will have the fish of the day, except I want it well done with extra potatoes. Can you ask the chef if he'll give me extra potatoes?"
"Wait, cross out that order for pineapple pizza, I want the one with goat cheese instead. And garlic. I still want garlic too."
SCREAM. Of course, I discovered much later that I missed taking down two orders. It was a wonder that I didn't mess up on anything else. Unfortunately, the family put up a racket about how I missed "half" their order (2/10 is not half, you idiots) and the boss had to go and apologize. Jerks. The only highlight of the day (besides the free pizza dinner) was that I was introduced to a very gorgeous coworker. When I say gorgeous, I really mean it. This girl looks just like Scarlett Johannsen - blonde hair, wide blue eyes and that signature pouty mouth. The only difference is that she has a very slender frame. Even though this girl's only in year 11, which means she's 16/17 years old, she looks like a freshman in Uni.

Luckily, tonight went well. Monday nights are slow, so I ended up working only 2 hours. This meant I got off early enough to eat some really good pasta. Usually the kitchen is closed by the time I get off of work, so I have to eat pizza (not that I'm complaining). I also discovered that I have my very own tip jar, which already had some money inside. Thus, the night ended for me with a bellyful of Gnocchi Romana and a handful of change.

Arvo

"Arvo": slang for "afternoon." Aussies have a tendency to shorten words and drop syllables whenever possible.

Example: "See you this arvo!"

I woke up a hour early Wed morning to go to another waitressing interview. This time it's for a family-owned Italian restaurant. Whenever something gets labeled as "family-owned," I always imagine a small little shop tucked away in a corner somewhere. It's a dangerously misconceived notion, especially in this case. I was not expecting to see a fairly large-sized restaurant that had tables spilling into the street. The interview went fairly well and I'm to go in for a test trial on Friday evening (tomorrow). However, I can't help but feel a little guilty, because I lied and said that I had extensive waitressing experience. I can't help it though, because every waitressing job I came across required their applicant to have prior experience. Like Kimberly said, how can I have experience if the places I'm applying to won't even accept me? I'm sure the divine forces will forgive me for this one.

Later that day, I went on an excursion to the Melbourne Botanical Gardens for my Biology class. The diversity of bird species is amazing. Seriously, why can't California have these kinds of birds? All we have are a few pest species and maybe a bird of prey or two, but very very few with bright colors. Anyway, we completed field notes on as many species as we could find before we disbanded. I had to rush back to school for my next class and fight my way through "the Suits" for a space on the tram. The Suits are basically men and women who do work in business/commerce and wear nice full suits to work. Most of them are comprised of young men and women fresh out of Uni. Here in Australia, the majority of the students who graduate from the undergrad program go straight into their careers. I sat down next to a smartly dressed young woman and chatted her up. She turned out to be only 22 years old and already in the management position of human resources. 0_0 It makes me feel even less inclined to enter the real world.

Toilet and Dunny

"Toilet": what they call restrooms. If you ask for a bathroom/restroom, they'll get confused and think you're asking for a room with a shower/tub with a sink. If you specifically want to use the toilet, you have to ask for it by name. Sounds kinda crude, I know, but it's socially acceptable here.

Me: "Where's the bathroom?"
Gas station clerk: "We don't have one."
Me: "You... don't have one...?"
Gas station clerk: "No, but if you want to use the sink, the toilet's to your left."

"Dunny": basically a port-a-potty or outside toilet. A "dunny roll" would be a roll of toilet paper that you just carry with you to the outhouse.

Me : "Where's the toilet?"
Tour guide: "There's a dunny a little ways up the road. I don't have a dunny roll, so I hope you have some tissues."
Me : "Is a dunny... a toilet?"

Alright, sea kayaking. I got up at 6 a.m. to make sure that I wasn't late for the tram and got to the designated area 20 min early. Seeing how the sky was still dark, I was extremely resentful and would have probably skipped the whole thing had I not paid $130 for it. We ended up leaving a full half hour later anyway, which meant I lost a hour of precious sleep (yes, I 'm still very bitter). The day dawned bright and clear, only to be covered by heavy rain clouds a few minutes later. -_- Of course, it was freezing, so no one was up for snorkeling, even though I did really want to see leafy sea dragons. Damn you, winter weather!! Luckily, we did come across a pod of wild dolphins, which was an incredible experience. I never realized how huge they were until a few swam right up beneath my kayak and I saw the length of their bodies. It's strangely intimidating, even though I knew they were peaceful creatures.

Yesterday was supposed to be a productive day of buying timtams and bra-strap hunting (Yuri ate one of mine, so I've been using the remainder halter-style). However, I got so far as to reach Big W (Australian equivalent of Walmart) when Stathi called me. I met Stathi at the International Student banquet eons ago, when he accidentally ate my ice cream dessert. After apologizing and promising to treat me to gelato, we've been mates ever since then.
"Camille! What are you doing right now?" he yelled into the phone. I could hear traffic sounds in the background.
"Um, buying timtams?" I said. I tactfully neglected to tell him about my bra strap situation.
"Great, well I'm going to take you to St. Kilda, the home of the best gelato shop ever. I'm a man of my word and I'm going to fulfill my promise today!"
After picking up two other of my girlfriends, Stathi came by to pick me up in his open-top Jeep. There's something incredibly exhilarating about sitting in the back of an open Jeep, something I hope to experience again soon. We ended up in 7 Apples and I gotta say, the gelati there is delicious! We also went to this Spanish doughnut cafe, where I got churros in powdered sugar and a little cup of melted chocolate. You're supposed to dip the churros into the chocolate and eat it that way, but the chocolate was so sweet that I ran out of churro. My Asian side wouldn't let me throw the rest of the chocolate away, but my healthy side was screaming, "If you finish the rest of that chocolate, you'll regret it!" I ended up compromising by taking a tiny sip from the cup, but ended up gagging on it when Stathi shouted, "What! You gotta lick the inside of that cup like it's Brad Pitt's mouth!" Thanks Stathi.

I am officially searching for another job, because the Chinese restaurant one didn't give me any shifts this week. I need a steady flow of income, especially since I'm planning to visit Thailand in July. My purse is getting too skinny.

Barracking and Mateship

"Barrack": means to "cheer on" or as we say, "root for." Under no circumstances, however, should you ever use the phrase "root(ing) for," in Australia. "Root" means something very different here. Alright, alright, it crudely translate to "fucking" (or "fuck," depending if you used it as a noun or verb).

Random guy standing next to me: "Which team are you barracking for?"
Me: "Barracking? Is that the same thing as rooting for?"
.....I won't go into the details of what happened after this.

"Mateship": roughly translates to "friendship," however it's the deepest, most intimate kind of platonic friendship possible. If someone calls you a mate or refers to you as "my best mate," that means you're considered to be a very, very good friend. The concept of "mateship" is especially important between teammates in sports teams/clubs.

So it turns out that the game I was going to was a rugby game, not footy. For those who are wondering, Australian footy is actually very similar to American football. They even have an AFL - Australian Football League. Rugby is also very similar to football (I know, confusing) except the playing field is rectangular (not oval, like for footy) and you can only pass the ball backwards, either through your legs or by kicking it.

The two teams that were playing were the Brisbane Broncos and the Melbourne Storm. It was a pretty exciting game, because awhile ago, Storm's youngest player, a 19 year old, left the team for a higher-paying position in the Queensland team. Luckily, the Storms had an avalanche win of 28-8. Yay Melbourne!

The highlight of the entire experience, however, took place two rows ahead of where my girlfriends and I sat. At the beginning of the game, a huge group of guys dressed in Brisbane colors trooped over and sat down in front of us. These were impressively well-built youths, the kind that would be star jocks in high school. I could practically smell the testosterone rolling off of them (it was probably the heady cologne they were wearing). Anyway, my girlfriends and I looked at each other self-consciously and then giggled over who was the cutest (obviously!) A couple of minutes into the game, however, I noticed something very queer (no pun intended!) One of the guys had rested his arm over his neighbor. A few seconds later, he stretches out his other hand, tousles the hair of another buddy and then rests it on his shoulder, but not after pulling his pal close. After gaping at this scene for a few moments, I quickly pulled out my camera and took a couple of shots, then poked a girlfriend and pointed out the scene. We pretty much spent the rest of the game chuckling over how comfortable and close the guys were. It's actually pretty endearing, considering that America is such a homophobic culture that guys can't even sleep in the same bed together in private. Here, it is normal for a guy to drape a friendly arm over a mate, or even affectionately poke him for a bit (which one of them actually did). Unfortunately, I missed capturing that scene, but I did manage to get a pretty good shot of the roughest-looking one of the bunch being affectionate.
Say it with me now, "Awwwwwwww." If only we can show that much acceptance within our culture as well.

Alright, it's late and I still haven't posted about my sea kayaking experience yet. Tomorrow, then!

Barbie

"Barbie": Australian slang for "barbecue," as in the grill, not the flavor.

"Throw the bacon on the barbie, yeah mate?"

Whoa, I almost typed "flavor" as "flavour." When you start spelling things differently, that's when you know you're starting to integrate into the culture. 0_0 As for the barbie thing, I actually have a funny story about that. During Easter break, the tour guide had actually asked me to help him out with the cooking. First of all, I had no idea what a barbie was. I had a faint idea that he probably meant the fire, but when I looked around for the grill, I didn't see any, just the cooking fire. Secondly, Australian bacon is basically a slice of ham. In no way does it resemble American bacon, which is long, skinny and rectangular. Unfortunately, I had no idea, so I basically wandered around the kitchen table, passing the barbie and the bacon multiple times until the tour guide finally noticed the helpless looks I was throwing in his direction. It turns out that an Australian barbecue is basically a large flat pan held over the fire. -_-

I was supposed to go to the Melbourne Zoo on Wednesday for my Zoology class, however the city was caught in the tail end of a hurricane. 70 mph winds were pummeling the CBD area and branches were being thrown everywhere, so the Zoo closed down for the day as a security precaution. Though I was disappointed, I was also intensely relieved since I arrived at the designated meeting area 15 minutes late. The reason? I was cramming in homework for my philosophy class, which was to take place right after the zoo. I sense the beginning of an ancient and vicious cycle.

Later on tonight, I'm heading off to my first footy game ever! It's for my Australian Sports and Society class and I'm quite excited. I'll defintely post up the photos (along with the rest of the photos for Easter Break... and my surfing class... and my first Zoo trip....)

Brekkie

"Brekkie": Australian slang for "breakfast."

During the surfing lesson for my Aussie sports class, an instructor was watching me struggling to push myself up on the board. After I failed miserably and nosedived into the wave for the sixth time, he swam over to me.
"You need to eat more brekkie," he said.
"Whugh?" I gurgled, spewing seawater at him.
"If you eat more brekkie, you would have more upper-body strength to stabilize yourself," he said, pointing at my flimsy arms.
"Um, I think I'm just weak."

Wow, where can I begin? A couple of weeks ago, I had my very first surfing experience and realized that I was deplorably lacking in the arm muscles department. Despite the fact that I kept getting pummeled wave after wave, I'm eager to go surfing again and come back to the States considerably more experienced. One of my goals is to be able to successfully ride a whole wave through. >D I also had my first waitressing job last night. It was easier than I expected, but maybe because I working a chinese fast-food joint and not a high-end French restaurant or something. Unfortunately, I realized that I was hired as a casual temporary worker, which means they'll only call me in if someone else calls sick. Damnit... the money reserves are running low.

Letsee, Easter Break stuff... well, due to procrastinative planning, the first night in Brisbane was spent in the airport. Evan, Christine and I found this little alcove-type are underneath an abandoned escalator and camped out there. Though I was able to get a couple of hours in, the others didn't fare so well. I am officially able to sleep anywhere. :D

The next two days were spent at Moreton Bay, which is an island just off the coast of Brisbane. It's smaller than Fraser Island, but still really pretty. The girls and I camped in on the island, snorkeled around some shipwrecks, surfed down some sand dunes (kind of scary at first, but very very fun!) and just bummed around on the beaches. I would say the highlight is definitely the sand dunes and everyone should try it.

We arrived back at Brisbane to meet up with a friend of mine, Nancy, who is going to be studying at Queensland Uni for a year (lucky girl!) Since the original plan of camping at Fraser turned out to be a bust, we decided to rent out a car and road trip up and down the coast. We headed north first, because apparently there was more foresty stuff. Unfortunately, our first night "camping" turned out to be a disaster. The tent Nancy's roommate lent us turned out to be missing poles and picks. It was about as useful as a very large piece of cloth and just as unwieldy (I recorded a video of the girls attempting to tie it to a tree on someone's camera). Luckily, a pair of Aussie boys and this random old man took pity on our misfortune and lent us the proper equipment and help. The rest of our northern excursions were fairly uneventful except at Bundaberg. There, I was able to see baby loggerhead sea turtles hatch out of the sand and crawl into the ocean. Okay, maybe not exactly that. The nest had already been evacuated two days ago, but the park ranger said that sometimes there are late hatchings that got stuck in the sand. Turns out there were - six of them! Watching the ranger dig them out made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside, because in the wild, these guys would have died in.

Afterwards, we drove Nancy back to Brisbane so she could study for her exams, and then continued south to see the Gold Coast. We didn't quite get there because we ran out of time, but we did see Surfer's Paradise. Even though it was cloudy and very cold, I could tell that area would have been gorgeous on a sunny day. I definitely need to go back to Brisbane, despite of the face-sized spiders and precocious bushy-tailed possums. Oh, I almost forgot. On my first night in Brisbane, I had left my Swiss pastry roll on the dining room table. It was inside its plastic container, so I thought it would be okay.
I was wrong.
A couple of hours into the night, I was woken by the sound of metal clinking against the dining room table. I sat up from the couch and saw a dark figure hunched over my pastry. I thought it was Nancy's cat, so I yelled at it and waved an arm to scare it off. The creature turned around, and in the murky darkness, I could already tell that it was not Kitty. While I squinted at it and tried to figure out what exactly was on the table, it turned around and continue to eat my pastry. Of course I immediately shot out of my sleeping bag and began to holler at it and make a general hullabaloo. The scary thing was, it wasn't even really intimidated. It would jump off the table, then jump back on and continue to eat my food. I finally ended up throwing a magazine at it (I missed so it was undeterred) and turned on the lights, which did the trick. I turned around just in time to see the end of its bushy tail disappearing through the open window.

Oh, and another thing. It rains INCREDIBLY hard in Australia. I've never seen anything like it in the States. It's even scarier when you're driving through pastureland at night, because you can't see where you're going and the fields are so flat that the roads get flooded. There was a point when I was sitting shotgun and watching the rain fall straight at the windshield. It was like going through hyperspace in Star Wars, except you're in danger of hydroplaning or running over the local wildlife. I'm grateful for friends who are willing to drive on the wrong side of the road, on the wrong side of the car.

One last thing before I end this lengthy entry - Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. Wow. I finally read the book during the road trip, and all I can say is... wow. In all honesty, I will force my future children to read the Harry Potter books so they can be exposed to the fantasticness that is JK Rowling. I'm still unhappy about the Ginny-Harry pairing though (c'mon, Cho is so much better!) and still in shock about Snape. For me, that was the mini-story that I focused on the most. Poor guy. Nothing is more touching than sacrifices made in the name of unrequited love. That was also one of the reasons why I like the last book best; it's darker and has more realistic themes, not the usual sunshine-and-butterflies that I find annoying in most fantasy novels.

(Oh, and sorry if I ruined the book for anyone...)