Derby Day 2009

Let me preface this post by saying that everyone should, nay must, make an attempt to attend a day of the Spring Carnival in Melbourne.

So, yesterday (saturday) Riley and I were privileged enough to go to Derby Day, which is the first day of a week of horse racing events. I was extremely excited going into the race, but I truly had no idea what exactly to expect.

The event completely exceeded all expectations.

We took it easy friday night in order to wake up nice and early saturday morning. Nervous excitement had kept me awake for nearly an hour before Riley's blackberry alarm signaled that the time to start "getting ready" had finally arrived.

The event is extremely formal so we dressed in our Sunday's best, which amounted to brown shoes with a black belt and gray suit. Oh well, NO WORRIES, MATE! Another issue had to do with the hair.

Anyone who knows me well, knows that, for some reason, I absolutely refuse to put gel in my hair. Its probably because I've been against it so long that I can't change now without looking like a major hypocrite. I was easily the only male at the event not rocking all sorts of product. The main reason it has become a concern is that Melbourne is notoriously windy. Oh well, maybe I'll just chop it off.

Back to the races.

So we got all dolled up and walked 5 minutes to the train station near our house. When we arrived at the platform, we saw some men in suits and ladies in full on racing gear (beautiful dresses and cranium accessories), so we knew we were in the right spot. That feeling was quickly confirmed.

By the end of the train ride, the cars were JAM PACKED with shocked tourists and formally dressed Melbournites ready to get down to business, and get down they did.

We used our special passes to get into the "carpark" area known as the Nursery. Basically, it is a glorified tailgating arena. Each separate party has a designated number and we had to find #239. Each of the parties had an umbrella or tent, loads of quality wine, beer, and champagne, and catered food. Once we arrived at our carpark, we were greeted by friendly faces. We have quickly earned the nickname Yanky Doodle or some variation of yank. I just respond with CRAIKEY! OYY! or Kangaroo Jack or something. All in good fun.

We arrived at our carpark at approximately 11 am and were greeted with French Champagne and a photocopied sheet of betting tips. Riley and I arent exactly growing money on trees, so we decided to bet very sparingly. We both bet on the big race of the day. I bet both ways (win or place) on Rockferry and Riley did the same with Gathering. We both lost. Still kind of bitter.

The rest of the day was spent alternating beer and water because it is a hell of a marathon and it must have been mid-80s and I was wearing a dark gray suit. I could have taken the jacket off, but after helping to carry some cases of nutrient water (their vitamin water knock-off) I promptly sweat through my light blue dress shirt.

Both Riley and I stayed in control, but there were plenty that must have forgotten to drink some water. For instance, at one point I was using the restroom and just as I was leaving some dude stumbled inside, vomited everywhere, stumbled outside, tripped over himself, faceplanted, and passed out. In a freshly tailored suit. Priceless.

The most interesting part of the day, however, was the women. My neck is still sore from jerking my head around because EVERY SINGLE FEMALE looked stunning, regardless of their regular appearance. A 250 lb ogre could look amazing at this place. Not to say that most werent naturally attractive, but I was absolutely in awe. The cranium accessories were the most eye-catching. They would wear what seemed to be a mixture of flowers, a veil, and an indian head dress. Crazy.

At 7:30 pm, the races were over and we were kicked out of the nursery. Luckily we were able to avoid the trains because our party had hired a party bus to take us to the after party. I just used 3 different forms of party in one sentence. Count it, literally.

The party bus was a blast, as expected. It took us on a tour of Melbourne complete with plenty of drinks and loud music. Eventually, we arrived at our friend Georgie's residence. It was a gorgeous house in a lincoln park-esque neighborhood called South Yarra.

We were herded into the backyard where the DJ, a really really cool "bloke" that we had talked to earlier that day, was already spinning phat jams. The party really took off until it started to rain and he had to move his equipment inside. Fortunately, the parade continued through the rain and a great time was had by all.

Yesterday was absolutely the best day I have had in Melbourne. Riley took some photos and a video that I will try to post soon. My video camera is not charging for some reason so I cant upload what I have taken, but I will get that fixed ASAP. If you ever have an opportunity, you MUST attempt to spend a day at the races, I know that come Tuesday, I am going to really miss being there considering it goes all week!

Cheers!

Oh, and if you feel like sending me thousands of dollars or a chipotle burrito, my address is as follows:

490 Dandenong Rd (aboriginal name, kinda sweet)
Caulfield North, VIC, AUS 3161

Technological Difficulties

Hello all.

I am very sorry for the lack of posts. The truth ii, there have been countless things I would have liked to blog about, but this country is SEVERELY lacking in two categories:

Landlord Punctuality
High Speed Internet Availability

In my case, these two voids go hand in hand.

Our landlord is a really cool guy, but that is the problem. He is a 21 year old israeli that is more concerned with coming over to borrow a lighter from the British folk (who smoke like chimneys, outside) than with setting up our internet, cleaning our pool, etc.

As I am sitting in this laundrette, some sort of crack head with a trench coat is absolutely furious with the 60ish year old woman than quitely runs the fine establishment. She told him that he should not have taken a shopping cart from the grocery store and he certainly did not appreciate her thoughts on the matter. I kind of felt like saying "Why so meloncholy?", but he was a pretty large, clearly high as a kite, crackhead with a couple gnarly scars. Pick your battles.

Anyway, apparently Halloween is only a North American thing. None of the Australians or Europeans celebrate it beyond a few children dressing up and hit-or-miss trick or treating. This week Riley, the two Canucks, and I set out to change that.

We went to the dollar store (run by a Korean man wearing a hat with a question mark on the front, which I later realized is pretty accurate considering he was completely clueless) to buy decorations. We made the place an outstanding haunted mansion. Riley and I saved some money and bought a set of $5 badminton rackets and birdies and a sweatband and dressed up as badminton champs. Im pretty sure people think we are the same person considering we do everything the same. Oh well.

We decided to have a party last night (thursday). It was pretty fun and a good amount of people showed up. Our French room mate brought a ton of his french friends over. The outside of the house looked like every single frog that was there smoked 3 packs of seeegaaareeeetttteeessssss and promptly used our driveway as a "rubbish bin." I love cultural experiences. I took a pretty funny video of the night, partially narrarated by our ridiculously animated English room mate "O.B." Until we get internet at our house, I will not be able to get my computer online, so that could be up in a week or so.

As of right now, tomorrow has 2:1 odds that it will be our best day of our duration in Melbourne. Through a series of random high profile connections, Riley and I have acquired VIP tickets to Derby Day. This is the best day of a week long carnival celebrating the Melbourne Cup. The Melbourne Cup is an extremely popular horse race that the entire nation gets off work to watch. Its like the Kentucky Derby but people besides degenerate gamblers and overly posh horse-owners actually care about the outcome.

The event starts at 9am and continues until 10 am. It is very formal. Everyone has to wear their best (or only as the case may be) suit or dress. The women all wear outlandish hats and veils. All of that aside, it is considered the biggest party day of the year. Think the Preakness infield meets High Society:




PLUS



EQUALS



It is going to be something else. Too bad it costed me $35 to dry clean a suit. I miss busy bodies.

Random Thought of the blog #1: Our family friend and melbourne hook-up Mrs. Caroline Nattrass told me that I am starting to look more Aussie. Now I am not sure what that means considering I have only bought one piece of new clothing. Plus, right now I am wearing a BJ Armstrong jersey khaki shorts and rainbows. How can that be any less Australian? Oh well.

Anyhow, look forward to my next post because it should include a couple pictures and videos of our house. My laundry is finished now and barring any run-ins with a shopping cart stealing crack head, I should make it home in one piece.

Cheers!

Looking in the Wrong Spot...

If you read my post about how Australians weren't what I made them out to be, you'll understand the shock I am facing now.

The last few nights we have been hanging out with a few girls that are from Australia and are traveling their own country. I mentioned my disappointment with how emotional and fragile so many men are here. I wanted to meet some MATES! She said that all I have to do is go to where she lived for a year: Northern Queensland. She described her ex-boyfriend and he was exactly the kind of Aussie I want to meet. An over the top masculine, crocodile hunting, psychopath.

She then went on to describe possibly the most hard core thing I have ever heard. "Piggin" or "Doggin." This is a form of feral boar hunting that I guess they do all over Australia. After her description, I knew I had to see this done. Enter youtube.

I chose this video because of the funny Aussie dudes and the relatively in-explicit nature compared to other videos of a similar variety. Enjoy my new goal of "Hog Doggin."

Real World: Melbourne

BASE at St. Kilda, its been real. It is now time, however, to move out of the lovely hostel and into the Real World: Melbourne house.

A few nights ago, Riley and I were talking to a Canadian guy about trying to find living accommodation. He quickly mentioned that he had just found a massive mansion that was going to be torn down next year to build a new apartment building. The owner is renting it out for the time being.

Yesterday, we went to check it out. AWESOME. Anyone who went to U of M knows of the fabled lax house. This house is an australian lax house meets Boogie Nights 70s party palace. There are 8 bed rooms, brand new bathrooms, 2 huge living rooms, huge kitchen, a bar, and heres the kicker...a POOL with a poolside bar. It comes with furniture and utilities for way less than we would have paid elsewhere.

Now, I was a bit skeptical based on being royally screwed multiple times in these too good to be true scenarios, but yesterday we met with the landlord (who is a 25 year old aussie with a really rich uncle who owns the place) and he was super cool about everything and approved of Riley and I to stay there.

Only catch is, we have to split a room. A sweet room though, with a massive desk that can fit both of us, a build in wardrobe, and a bathroom with a jacuzzi that we will be taking baths in together with champagne and raspberries on a fortnightly basis.

The other people that will be living with us are people we have met in the hostel. 6 british girls, 4 british guys, 2 canucks, and one random non-hostel frenchman named Eddie. Eddie reeks. I will be avoiding his cowering french derriere for the sake of freedom.

Unfortunately, the place needs a little work. If extreme make over came to this place, it could sell for $3 million in the states. But, right now it is overgrown outside. The inside is great. Very 70s feel to it, but Australia has a very 90s feel to it so its not that far behind.

For some reason, Riley and I got first priority on room choice even though we all came together. Apparently the Canadian likes us the most or thinks he told us about first. I wasnt waiting to ask. We are moving in on Monday and the rest will be history.

I will make a video tour of the house as soon as we move in. I havent been able to take any video yet because the camera is with the unessential items that are still at our coach's home in bumble.

Cheers!

Bonkers

About 5 nights ago, Riley and I went to some bar/club that supposedly plays awesome electronic music. We confirmed that:

Misconceptions and Realities

Heading into this journey, I had no idea what to expect from people here. After all, the only real knowledge I had of Australia was from our shockingly ethnocentric media and entertainment industries.

For example, I thought every Aussie Male looked like this:

According to the stereotypes, an Aussie female must look like this:

Perhaps it was just wishful thinking or Melbourne is just different, but here is the accurate standard aussie dude:

Want to vomit? Me too. This picture is obviously an exaggeration using a picture that infuriates me beyond words. But yup, you guessed it. They are all hipsters. The fabric from any given pair of pants that I own (34/34 typically khakis) could be used to make approximately 2.75 pairs of pants for an Melbournian 20-something. Don't get me wrong. Many of them are AWESOMELY cool, but there is a severe lack of shark tooth necklaces and bowie knives and an influx of menthol cigarettes and gold calculator watches.

Another glaring misconception was the women. Once again, this is not all-inclusive, as we have spent time with some really cool, cute, not freakish girls, BUT when you walk down the streets, this is what you typically see:

To each his own, I guess? They seem to have great potential, but the style and general demeanor of the average girl on the street is tragically depressing and uninspired.

I know we can not be too material with all of these things, but hey, lets just blame it on the media. After all, they were the ones telling me that I could hunt boars with Crocodile Dundee and eat meat pies cooked by Naomi Watts. Until I fulfill that fantasy, I will just have to accept being an outcast and make sure that 2.5 australian hipsters don't try to rob me of my slacks.

New Template

My dear friend Doug Bell (dbellonbermuda.blogspot.com) just made me realize that I had copied him in his template design. To be fair, most of the templates are garbage and I didn't feel like wading through a rainbow of colors to find a decent looking scheme. Thats my mom's job.

Maybe my previous choice has something to do with the idea for an overseas blog came from Doug, who currently lives in Bermuda working as a nerd and tries to be cool by purchasing a boat, motorcycle, and a goat. I guess that is pretty cool though.

Sorry to jack your blog steeze, Batman.

Welcome to Australia!

'ello!

So I arrived in this country exactly 11 days ago after a surprisingly pleasant 20ish hours of flying. This could be due to the fact that Air New Zealand has significantly more leg room than your standard United Air Lines flight from, say, Chicago to Detroit. They also provide each passenger with a personal video screen and a controller for "gaming." However, having been spoiled by "next generation" consoles like XBOX 360, shooting asteroids or playing the surprisingly difficult Australian version of Who Wants to Be A Millionaire just doesn't quite cut it. All things considered, it is likely that my small dosage of ambien allowed for a pleasant flight.

I was worried when I got on the flight because I knew I was going to be out like a light and I was sitting on the aisle. Upon arriving to my seat, I anxiously waited to see who would be sitting next to me:

 Oh God, please don't sit next to me 350 lb behemoth... Phew, you got an exit row. A seasoned voluptuous voyager.

Uh oh, tired woman with crying baby is coming down the aisle looking at the middle section...Phew, not sitting here.

You. Sit down here now. Please, miss average looking college aged girl? Rats, sitting next to hipster homeboy.

Hello there sir, you and your wife look decidedly average and New Zealand-ish (?). And you are sitting next to me! Ehhhhh, alright.

So I was sitting next to some middle aged Kiwi's. Couldn't complain. I was just hoping that he didn't have some sort of "growing problem" that had not been properly addressed by Flomax. So next I got comfortable and put on a movie (The Hangover, which I had not yet seen. Dece.) Within 5 minutes, he was watching the same thing. After that movie, I put on an episode of the office. After the kiwi was finished with The Hangover, he put on the exact same episode of the office. Coincidence? Possibly. However, any skepticism was gone when I played the aforementioned asteroid game and he left his office episode EARLY to play the same game. He must not get out much, but then again the best part of the flight was that he doesn't get up much either. Which may upset Ms. Kiwi, but that's neither here nor there.

Throughout the entire flight, the man did not move. Not even to recline his seat. Unless in my self-induced daze, I forgot he woke me up. Many peaceful hours later, we arrived in Melbourne (pronounced Melbin).

The first few days we stayed at the home of THE Gregg Mollison (a renowned lacrosse icon of western melbourne...sweet?). He boasts that he taught Gary Gait (possibly the greatest lacrosse player ever) to use two hands. Could be lying, but who cares. Within the first five minutes he had me looking up at Eucalyptus trees for Koalas. Turns out that was a sick joke and Koalas are not like our squirrels. Jokester.

It was nice to see our team clubhouse and meet some of the players. The clubhouse has a bar attached to it. Count it.

After a few days there, Riley and I ventured into the actual downtown area and rented two beds in a hostel. The place was really nice, but not in a great location so we moved to our home for the last week: Base at St. Kilda. This hostel rules. It is right on the beach. It has a great social scene that is highlighted by nightly competitions (trivia, pool, ping pong, etc) with $100 bar tabs to be won. Anyone who knows me well knows that I love competitions, especially bar games and trivia, more than most, so I have been in heaven. I made it pretty far in the ping pong competition, but I met my match with some dude who I did not properly scout and realized way too late that he was a lefty.

We have 4 bunk beds in our room. Depending on my position in the bed, up 80% of my calves are hanging off the end. We share the room with 4 other english "blokes" who are absolutely hilarious. 3 lads and 1 lassie. We got past the point where we can ask for their names because we forgot them right away and its way too late now. Oh well. "Mate" seems to suffice.

The nightlife has been interesting. Lots of awesome techno music. On a related note, Riley and I want to start a DJ Company called SickWax, in which I will be named Trance Armstrong and he will be Beat Sampras.

There will be many more posts to come, but I have to go take advantage of a free all you can eat BBQ at the hostel.

-Trance Armstrong, out.