Bastard

"Bastard": I'm pretty sure it means the same thing in Oz, however the term is used much more casually and with affection. If a friend calls you a "stupid bastard," he/she means it with as much love as possible (if that makes sense).

Stathi: "So I heard that 'bastard' is an offensive term in the States. Is that true?"
Me: "Yeah it's actually an insult."
Stathi [with a traumatized expression]: "OH MY GOD, NO WONDER SHE LOOKED SO INSULTED!"
Me: "Um...should I even ask?"
Hahah poor Stathi.

Okay today is officially Day 3 of writing my sports paper. I spent the whole day writing it, only to find out during office hours that I went off in the wrong direction. -_- I can't believe my friends took only five hours to do this. It also doesn't help that my roommate and her girlfriend have a tendency to have extremely loud sex. Yes, you read it correctly, loud sex. It's so loud, in fact, that it pierces through their closed door, travels down the hallway and sneaks under my closed door. It's finally gotten to the point where my other roommate yelled, "Oh my GOD, keep it down!" Unfortunately, they either didn't hear her or chose to ignore it. In retaliation, my roommate turned up her very loud American music (they seem to really like clubbing songs here). Needless to say, this is not a very papering-friendly environment. It seems tonight I have to forgo another bar experience in favor of finally finishing my paper. :( At least I'm saving beer money.

I called my boss yesterday, and to my surprise, he actually answered. After I stammered out a question regarding my recent lack of work (damn you, insecurity!) he replied, "I thought you said you couldn't work this week."
WHAT!
I politely said no, I stated in my note that I was unavailable next week, but am free this week. "I'm sorry, was my note unclear?" I asked tentatively. My boss ignored my question/apology and gruffly said that he would call me next Saturday to let me know of my new schedule. I was a bit upset that he was so stupid (I'm pretty certain that my note was very clear) but at least I still have a job. Kind of.

I've always considered myself to be "realistically optimistic," or in other words, "zen." What's meant to be will happen. If it doesn't, there's always a silver lining or another open door (or window). However, sometimes I can't help but wonder if this mentality is just a way to trick ourselves into feeling better and believing that whatever we lost wasn't worth it anyway. Maybe in actuality, the cloud doesn't have a silver lining but a fuzzy grey one. I know it's incredibly pessimistic, but I just wanted to voice it and see what you guys think. Undoubtedly, if we all thought that way, the suicide rate would go through the roof. It's much better to believe that all our losses were for a reason and hopefully, a bigger pay-off.

Stuff Up

"Stuff up": depending on how it's used, it can either mean "mistake" or "mess up." I've only heard it used to mean "mess up."

"Does the internet always stuff up like this?" (My roommate's friend asking my roommate about our dodgy internet signal.)


School's drawing to a close. I finally turned in my biology labs, so all I have left is my sports paper (due on Friday), my philosophy paper and my zoology exam, which are two weeks from now. I think I'll take my biology notes with me to New Zealand so I can study during the downtime. Hah, let's see how that goes. I'm actually a little scared to go to New Zealand, because it's just my friend and me in the dead of winter, in an already very cold country. To make matters worse, we're planning to drive ourselves around because we can't really afford a tour bus. I've already half-forgotten how to drive, and now I have to do it on the wrong side of the car, on the wrong side of the road, in a foreign country. Dear God.

Did I mention that my boss is avoiding me? That bastard, after he said, "Okay, I'll call you to let you know when's your next shift," he never did. Whenever I called him over the past 2 weeks, I've always gotten one of my coworkers, who would tell me, "Oh yeah, I'll let him know you rang and he'll get back to you." -_- Well, you're not getting away from me. YOU ARE GOING TO PAY ME MY ONE HUNDRED AND TWO DOLLARS (and fifty cents)!

Ugh, I just realized that I spent my entire entry complaining. Ever since an acquaintance had told me, "Man, you complain a lot," I've been trying to cut down on all the negative things I say. It's kind of difficult actually, since my casual remarks tend to be complaints as well. No worries, I will work on it. Oh, and one more thing. I've decided to get a tattoo here in Melbourne. I've always wanted a tattoo of a pair of angel wings on my back, and I've finally decided that now's a good a time as any. I'll post up pictures of the wings I want once I find it.

Alright, I'm off to do my paper.

Sweet-as

"Sweet-as": a slang term Aussies use instead of "cool" or "awesome." I've also heard the phrase "cool-as," which I assume means the same. The first time I heard it, I thought the person said "sweet ass," which would have been completely inappropriate.

Professor: "The school is going to pay for our trip to Brambuk, so you guys don't need to worry about transportation costs or anything."
Classmate: "That is sweet-as!"

Yesterday was the first night I've gone to the bar in a month. May has mostly been a month filled with procrastination and last-minute cramming (and still is, I'm sad to say). This upcoming week will be my last week at school, and then I have a week off to study. Luckily, I only have my zoology final to cram for, because I just have papers to write for my sports, philosophy and aboriginal history class (perhaps I'm not as lucky as I thought...) Anyway, last night was a third of a series of bar-hopping events Evan and I dubbed, "Birthday night." I'm not sure if I've discussed the significance of 21sts in Australia in my previous posts, but I'll do a quick run-through in case I haven't. See, in Australia, turning 21 is a huge deal. In the past, it would be the American equivalent of a debutante. Nowadays, it's just a super-fancy party in which everyone dresses extremely nice and rent out a hotel ballroom or something. Being the mischievous girls we are, Evan and I thought we'd try this thing where we'd don party hats, bar-hop and yell that it's one of our 21st birthdays. The ultimate aim is to score free drinks. Unfortunately, I missed the previous 2 birthday nights, but was finally able to make it to the third one (I almost ended up staying home to do my paper instead). We went to this bar in Fitzroy called Bimbo's, in which the main decorative component was naked baby dolls. It was kind of creepy, to say the least, but still interesting. We decided that it would be Evan's birthday and managed to score a couple of beers for her. It was fun, but my mind was still stressing out over my papers. >_<

Tonight I had my first home-cooked meal in a long time. My roommate's mom (mum?) came to stay with us for a couple of days and made dinner for a bunch of my roommates' friends and me. It was absolutely delicious and made me wish my mom had culinary skills as well. That's it, when I come back home, I'm going to practice my cooking so I can make delicious home-cooked meals for myself/future family.

I've stopped working at Il Carretto, mainly because my boss got irritated when I told him that I was going to be gone for a week in June. The loss of income has hit me hard. Thailand is unrealistic now, sadly enough. It's okay, that just means I'll have more time to tour Australia (if I can scrape up the money in time). There so much I still want to see and experience. I never did understand the people who didn't like traveling or exploring. Sure, I understand how one would become attached to their home. I enjoy my creature comforts as well; my clean house, my couch in front of the tv, my soft blankets and bed. However, even that's nothing compared to the horizon and all its possibilities. I want to see new sights, blaze trails through unexplored territory, taste exotic foods, talk to different people and absorb their cultures. I want to live a life of adventure and thrills, just like the heroines in my fantasy novels. Perhaps that is what my wanderlust really amounts to - the desire to escape to somewhere better. I'm perpetually looking for that white rabbit to lead me down a tunnel to a new world of possibilities. It's not a surprise, since my future doesn't seem top desirable right now: 2 years of preparatory JC classes and 3 years in an accelerated nursing program, and that's if I'm lucky.

Damnit all, I don't want to leave Australia. If only I could stay. Well, back to papering.

Zed

"Zed": what they call the letter "Z" here. It's not pronounced as "zee," but "zed."

In Australian Wildlife Bio lab:

Professor: "So if you want to make your possum relax, you should use an anesthetic. The popular once of choice would be Zoletil, which is zolazepam-tiletamine."
Me: "Um.... what?"
Professor: "Here, I'll spell it out for you so you can write it down. Zed."
Me: "....what?"


Again, apologies for the tardy updating. I've been trying to get my papers done on time, so I really haven't been able to blog as often as I would have liked. Alright, I lied, I could have blogged when I was procrastinating, but then I figured checking Facebook would probably take less time than if I were to write an entry. I was so very wrong. I didn't really have anything that interesting to write about anyway. I'm reaching the end of the semester. Next week would be the last week of classes, and already two of my classes are having their last sessions tomorrow. It's quite sad actually, because I enjoyed thinking of myself as a Melbourne Uni student. I must save up some money to buy a hoodie before I leave (over here, they call them jumpers/sweaters).

I realized that I have a serious issue with time management. It's always been an issue before, but now I'm getting to the age where I really can't afford to act this stupidly. I really admire those who can just sit down and pour out a paper, or set a schedule and actually STICK to it. Kudos you guys, I'm very jealous! As for me, I end up begging professors for extensions or regurgitating a really shitty piece of work. Sad, I know. Not only is this detrimental to my academics, but I really miss out on a lot of social activities. For example, today all of my friends are going to a famous ice bar in Melbourne. Me? I'm stuck at home doing a paper that was due three days ago. To rub salt into the wound, one of my friends called me to to offer me a ride there.

S: "Heeeey love, I'm just driving by and I'd thought I'd offer you a ride to the ice bar."
Me: "Aw, I can't go, I have to stay home and write a paper."
S: "What?? But this is the ice bar!"
Me: "I know, but it's due on Friday."
S: "Maybe you didn't hear me correctly. It's the famous bar made completely out of ice!"
Me: "Yeah, but -"
S: "Ice. Bar."
Me: "Well - "
S: "ICE BAR!"
Me: "I'M GOING TO GO DO MY PAPER NOW."

Sadface. I'm a hermit and I have no time management skills.

EPIC FAIL

I am in a shit hole right now. I literally have two 2,000 word papers on Australian sports and society, a biology lab report and a 2,000 Aboriginal history paper due all in the span of a week. How the fuck did I get myself into this. Oh, I know, I HAVE NO SELF CONTROL. Fuck.

Sorry about all the cussing. I just need to be slapped and then locked into a room with a computer. Wait, I've been doing that to myself for the past two weeks. Freaking a. I should have taken my classes pass/no pass like all the other exchange students.

I hate myself for having no time management skills, but I hate how energy drinks have no effect on me here. Stupid guarana, YOU LIE! Someone give me a pill that will keep me up all night. Or some ADD medication.

Avos

"Avos": short for "avocados." Aussies like to shorten everything when they say it.

At the farmer's market~
:"Love, just for you, these avos are only 75 cents each!"
Me: "Um..."
Grocery manager: "No good? Alright, I'll drop it to 25 cents apiece."
Me: "Okay, I want five!"

That was about a week ago. Unfortunately, I forgot about my lovely cheap avocados, and now they're all semi-brown and slightly moldy. It actually makes me really sad, because they're absolutely delicious on toast (and a much healthier alternative to butter). I didn't have the heart to throw them all away though, so I thought I'd turn the worst-looking three into guacamole. Unfortunately, that escapade didn't turn out well. Crappy avos make even crappier guacamole, as I soon discovered. After taking a few bites and almost harking it back up, I decided to add some blended spinach dip to sweeten it. Unsurprisingly, it didn't work. I think it's the fact that the meat is just bitter all-around. No amount of chopped onions, salt, lemon juice or black pepper can change that. I was still unwilling to toss the whole thing though, so it ended up being Yuri's dog food. Maybe I can still find a way to salvage the last two avos...

Work at Il Carretto hasn't been going all that great lately. The boss hired some more new people, and these guys are actually real-deal experienced waiters/waitresses (not like my "oh yeah, I kinda/sorta/not really did some waitressing work at my Uni's cafeteria-style restaurant"). As a result, I've been restricted to busing tables and bringing out the food instead of taking orders. Now, not only am I missing out on the practice that I need in order to be a real waitress, but my tips are gone! While my actual salary went towards rent and utility bills, my tips paid for my food. Taking orders is like a privilege now. I have to work fast and efficiently if I want to prove to my boss that I can handle the tables. >:(

This weekend I went to Rumbalara on a field trip for a class. On the first day, we a middle schools that had a large number of Indigenous children. I gotta say, the school system here is much more efficient. The tests and projects were a lot more creative in assessing your comprehension. For example, instead of making everyone do the same project, the kids had an option of presenting their projects visually and/or orally through media, crafts/models, papers, etc. Sports are also a very important component of Australian education. In the States, our compulsory education takes the form of P.E. In Oz, the kids join some type of sport (netball, footy, cricket, etc.) They can also go on bushwalks or surfing lessons, which I am extremely jealous of. Seriously, these kids are spoiled. Surfing for P.E.?? It doesn't get any better than that.

We then headed to this secondary education center, ASHE (Academy of Sport Health and Education). Since Ozzie kids don't have to attend school once they hit 16, a significant number of kids stop their education at that age. Some kids drop out of school at age 12 and then return several years later, perhaps 18 years old but with the reading level of a middle-schooler. ASHE provides a cushion for these struggling kids (most of whom are Aborigine). They're kind of a preparatory school because they guide kids to where they want to go in life, whether it's to be a star footy player or to get accepted into Uni. Classes start at 10 a.m., so a free breakfast is provided to give more incentive to get to the Academy on time. They have Fridays off and the program is free, so the school is actually pretty popular. In fact, they made one of the entry requirements as being at least 16 yrs old. This is to discourage people from dropping out of high school so they can attend the Academy.

Alright, I'm pretty tired now, so I'll finish the rest of this entry tomorrow. XP

Lemonade

"Lemonade": what Australians call the American soda Sprite. Yeah I know, weird huh?

A mother: "And can I get two bottles of Lemonade for my children."
Me: "Sorry, we don't carry lemonade."
Boss: "No, we do."
Me: "Um, I guess we do carry... Lemonade..."
Alright, so I'm running a little bit low on the Ozzie terms. I promise I'll find you guys better ones for the next entry.

Speaking of soda, there's another really popular soda drink referred to as "Lemon Lime Bitters." I don't think it's an actual brand, but more like a type of flavor. For one thing, the bottle of lemon lime bitters that Il Carretto carries doesn't say "lemon lime bitters" anywhere. Secondly, I believe the soda color itself varies. For example, the one the restaurant has is a pinkish red color, which totally confused me and a couple other customers as well. I'll take a picture of it for you guys the next time I can get my hands on a bottle. The first time I saw it, I thought it was some sort of alcoholic beverage and was really surprised when the young children were allowed to order it. The adults love it as well, and almost every table I've served (especially if there are young people present) orders a couple bottles of it. I've dried it and it's not too bad actually. It's fizzy and sweet, but has a kind of sour, tarty taste to it as well.

I've been dreading the month of July as it draws closer and closer. It's already May. May, you guys! I have basically two months of school left, one month to tie up all my loose ends, and then I'm stuck at home again. I'm torn between the desire to make every day count and the urge to be responsible and study for my classes. What I end up doing is forcing myself to stay home, but I end up going online and wasting my time anyway. -_- If only I could find a way to stay outside of America longer, or at least California.

At work today, a young teen girl (she looked to be about 19 years old) called me aside. "Are you from Canada?" she asked.
I shook my head patiently. "Nope, Los Angeles." (Believe it or not, a good portion of the customers will place bets with each other on my origin and then call me over to see who's right. A lot of the people guess Canada or the East Coast. I have no idea why.)
The girl gave this little squeal of delight. "Do you live near Hollywood??" she asked excitedly. Her father gave me this please-humor-my-daughter look.
"Um, kind of? I've been there a couple of times," I said hesitantly.
The girl got even more excited. "Oh my GOD! Have you seen like, any famous celebrities before?"
"No I haven't," I said truthfully, and immediately I saw her lose interest. "You'll have more luck seeing them at the high-end clubs than on the street."
Her eyes widened again, but before she could ask any more questions (presumably which high-end club) I was called away to pick up an order. The girl's questions got me thinking though. As a L.A. girl, I should have seen at least ONE famous person, but I haven't. Hell, I haven't even set foot in a popular Hollywood night club yet, and I know of at least five under-aged girls who have. I sense a girls' night out in the making. Who's with me??

Goon

"Goon": slang for cheap wine that usually comes in a box (the wine itself is held in a plastic sack). There's a spigot from the box that you just turn and it drains the wine out.\

Ex: "There's free goon at the party tonight."

My first zoology midterm was epic fail. There was only about 10-15 questions and I know I got three wrong for sure, so the odds aren't in my favor. Now I gotta do well on my lab reports and final for sure. -_-

I got super angry at work for the first time today. Remember how I said I don't mind customer service because I could tolerate the shit from clients? Well, today one of them hit a nerve. It was probably due to a build-up of things. One of the waitresses got too greedy and took too many sections, so her customers were being neglected. Meanwhile, I was assigned to clearing tables (boo, no tips!) so I was a bit resentful of missing out. One of customers waved me over and I decided to comply, even though I didn't have to.
"Could you give me the wine list?" asked the middle-aged man. He had his wife and a sullen-looking son with him.
I politely told him that we didn't have a wine list, but I had the names written down on a piece of paper. "If you give me a minute, I'll fish it out right now," I said.
The man was not happy. "What? No wine list? I'm sure the last time I came here, the waitress gave me a list," he grumbled.
"No, I'm afraid we've never had a wine list," I said, taking out my own tattered piece of paper. "Now, we have the Merlot, the Cab Sav, and our House Red."
"What are they?" said the man shortly.
"What ....are they?" I repeated, confused.
"That's what I said." He was getting very rude.
"They're Gossips, and they're red wine," I said, not sure if that was the answer he was looking for.
"Well, where are they from?" he said impatiently.
"Where are they from....?" I asked. I wasn't sure if this guy was trying to be difficult on purpose or if I was just ignorant of wines. Either way, I could sense the negativity beginning to emanate from him.
"Yes, where are they from. Are they from Northern Australia, Southern Australia, Eastern Australia, Western Australia?"
"Um...."
"The U.S.? Asia, Europe, Africa?"
At that point, I know the man was just being despicable. While he was going on about countries, I tried to keep my face in an emotionless, bland expression. It wasn't hard because I would never openly snap at someone (I'm anti-confrontation, remember?) but that didn't mean I wasn't feeling offended and P.O'ed. While I kept my eyes on the floor, I noticed that the wife had placed a warning hand on her husband's arm. I waited for his angry listing to finish, and then calmly said, "I'm not sure, but I'll check for you?"
"You do that," said the man.
As I walked away, I heard the wife exclaim, "Does it even matter?!"
"Yes it does!" retorted her husband. He started going on about the taste.
Stupid, stupid man. I checked all the bottles and discovered that the Merlot and Cab Sav was from Eastern Oz. Our cheap House Red was essentially goon. After I went back and told him all our wines came from Eastern Oz, and he ordered a glass of Merlot. I resisted the urge to swap it with goon and decided losing my job wasn't worth the satisfaction of justice. I think I will sabotage his dinner on my last week though (like snort into his fish or something) if he's there. His balding head is imprinted into my memory. Watch out, Mr. Wine-Connoisseur-Wannabe, I'm going to get you back.

This experience has made me realize that it takes me awhile to recover from stressful events. In those personality quizzes, there's always a question that asks, "Is it difficult for you to get over negative experiences?" I had always ticked "no" or "not very." Now I realize that I've been misjudging my own tolerance. It takes me a long time to forget emotionally stressful situations. Sometimes I will relive them and wonder if the person who had hurt me even remembers doing it (I seriously doubt it, actually). It's a depressing, self-destructive habit that I should cease immediately, but for some reason, can't.

On the upside, I went to the Farmer's Market today and bought a whole bunch of fruit. Now I have enough apples, bananas, grapes and avocados to last me for the rest of the week. Things are always so much cheaper on Saturdays, I really should wait to do my grocery shopping then. Unfortunately, I discovered that my bananas are a little riper than I previously thought. Maybe I will attempt to make banana bread tomorrow, despite the lack of measuring utensils. Hopefully it'll turn out well. It'll have to wait until after work though, since I'm on the lunch shift tomorrow for the first time. At least I won't have to stay until 11 p.m. The rush shouldn't be as bad as dinner time, but then there is a table of 19 coming in for a Sweet Sixteen. Yikes.

Serviette

"Serviette": what they call paper napkins over here. This term has caused me many, many issues in the workplace and amongst my Ozzie friends. No one here will know what you're talking about if you ask for "napkins."
(I've edited out the name of my friend under his request.)

Unnamed Friend: "...And if you want a serviette, they're by the lemonade."
Me: "The what?"
UF: "Serviette."
Me: "What on Earth is that?"
UF: "You don't have serviettes in America??"
Me: "No....?"
UF: "Good God, I didn't know the U.S. was such a backwards country."
When I finally figured out that he was talking about napkins, I told him we don't call them serviettes. He laughed at me.
UF: "Napkins? What the hell? We call them serviettes here! Napkins, what an odd-sounding name."
The cultural differences here still take me by surprise.

So I have my first big test tomorrow, and I just came across a very disturbing discovery. Usually after every class, the professor(s) would post their lectures up on the website. I have just discovered that they neglected to post the last three lectures. It also just so happened that I got lazy on the last three lectures and took down a grand total of ONE page of notes. One page. For. Three. Hours. Of. Lecture.
Fuck.
I hate Murphy's Law. I will now write down every freaking line during class, instead of assuming that whatever I missed will be posted online. Effing hell. Maybe I'll cry into a stupid serviette after I fail my exam.

Embarrassing moment of the week (well actually, there's two):

1: I ate dirt in front of my whole zoology class during our field trip. I was walking behind my two professors and we were heading towards the rest of the class. We were terribly late and everyone else was standing there, waiting for us to catch up. I noticed that my professors were hopping over a metal chain strung between two posts. It was low enough that I could have easily side-stepped over without any mishap. Instead, I thought hey, no problem, I'll just maintain my walking speed and just do a little hop at the end. WRONG. The chain was higher than I thought and I tripped over it, completely face-planting into the grass with my book bag spilling all its contents onto the ground. My two professors turned around with real concern, but I quickly brushed myself off as casually as I could and assured them I was fine. I was so embarrassed that I couldn't even look at them (or my class, for that matter). I still wince when I think back on it. Oh, and for those who were curious, our field trip was to the local lake where a population of black swans resided. We spent two hours observing their behavior and recording their ID bands in the pouring rain (which was actually kind of fun).

2. I was forced to do a number 2 in the boy's bathroom. Some genius decided to build only one girls' bathroom stall for the computer lab. Consequently, whenever I decide to stay late at the computer lab, I have to go into a long queue for the bathroom. This time, it was just one person in the stall and she was taking FOREVER. From the sounds of it, it seems like she was hurling. Meanwhile, the boy's bathroom was just sitting there a few feet away, with no one nearby. There was also the issue of the security camera trained right at my face. After waiting 10 minutes and nearly shitting myself (literally) I thought, "Ah, screw it," and headed in. Of course, I had to wave and mouth "Sorry!"at the security camera before I did it. The experience itself wasn't that great either. The place smelled like old urine.

Alright, it's almost midnight and I better catch the last tram. Wish me luck guys. It won't do to fail a class in Australia. >_<