Well, the time has finally come.
I have officially been on American soil for 4 days. On day two I had my first Chipotle in a year. Ironically, it was the first burrito the ignoramus employee had ever made in his life, so he completely botched it and the whole thing tore open within three bites. I was on the verge of tears (think Patrick Bateman when he realized the superiority of Paul Allen's Business bard. That's bone.) I cannot begin to describe my utter disgust and loathing towards this incompetent dingbat. I have been dreaming of this first burrito for months and he completely ruined it. He put the peppers in before the rice. Instant disaster. Did he honestly think, just by looking at me, that I didn't want the cilantro enhanced rice? It took every ounce of self control not to assault him and ask for it to be remade by the Mexican chica with gold frames on her teeth. She has skill, unlike the no-talent-assclown in charge of my meal. Moving on, albeit bitterly.
It's a very odd feeling. I anticipated a massive sense of relief upon my arrival, but so far it has been anything but. I got to catch up with tons of friends on Saturday night, despite being caught in the Twilight Zone that is jetlag. That was great fun, but it only made me want to move into the city more. Compared to Australia, you get incredible bang for your buck in terms of accommodation. Some girl friends had a house warming party and their place was absolutely glorious. I need to move into the city, stat. It has also been great to catch up with my parents and I will see my sister in a week or so.
Without trying to sound like your typical faux-cultured college student who spent a semester drinking with Americans in/and around Italy and came home donning capri pants, obnoxious leather sandals, and some sort of beaded jewelry and bragging about cheap wine and fast women... it really has been a culture shock being back in my beloved motherland. I'm not saying that I would ever want to have an Australian accent, but there is something about it that suggests a more lighthearted and congenial attitude than that of an American, in your face, accent. I guess it is similar to a pleasant southern accent (south east aristocrat....not alabama degenerate, natural disaster victim, trailer park swine). Don't get me wrong, midwesterners are kind, lovely people, but the formality of social interaction is extremely shocking at this point. I don't think I used the word "Mister" for an entire year. Thats not a word of a lie. Unless I was casually mocking someone...Ohhhhh check out Mr. Big Shot, etc.
On the subject of social interaction, it has been very difficult to stop saying a few aussie slang terms. First off, "mate" is horribly difficult to replace with something as boring and American sounding as "man" or "dude." I used to bank on those, but I really have learned to enjoy "mate." Unfortunately, that is COMPLETELY unacceptable to use in American dialect. A couple more subtle terms/phrases/sounds that are proving difficult to eradicate are:
1) Mmmmmm - Used when in agreement. Need to get rid of it because I don't like it at all.
2) Ya Yaaaaa, No - Used when someone is asking you something towards which you will provide a negative response. The ya's are a way to segway into your turn to talk.
3) Awwww, yaaa, listen - Another conversational segway that I catch myself saying
4) Cheers- Now, this is debatable. The way I see it, it can be an unconventional way to sign off emails, notes, texts, etc, BUT only if you haven't just spent a year in Australia. In my case, it just makes me seem like I want the attention and I think I am really cool because I've been away for a year. (See aforementioned faux-cultured douche)
5) Aw Craike! Get a dog up ya, ya flaming gallah! - Casual insult I threw at someone the other night without thinking twice about it. Totally american, right?
Aside from the accent, the culture will definitely be missed. My personality gelled very well with the Aussies because I am typically a pretty laid back guy. That being said, I have been raised to bleed red, white, and blue (oh wait, that's their colors too, ummmm, crimson, porcelain, and azure?) and to work hard and be happy with my American values. In the coming months, this will mean completely abandoning the blithe existence in which I have relished for the last year. Its time to buckle down, find a job, save some green backs, and move into the city!
I guess this will be my last blog post, which is sort of depressing. It has been a very fun way to keep you all updated and, hopefully, a little bit entertained. I will probably start a new life blog that will be far less interesting, but I enjoy writing and ranting, so it will happen. I just need to think of a catchy title. I don't think Wes Up Over is too good.
Thanks to everyone for following and I hope it was as good for you as it was for me. Cheers Mates!
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Monday, September 6, 2010
Exodus
Well, the lacrosse season is over.
We made it to the semi-final and on a rain-soaked pitch covered with areas of nearly 10 square yards where the thought of dodging is a complete joke, the Footscray Bulldogs lost to Surrey Park 9-8. We were down by 3 with five minutes to go. Eventually we tied it up with a minute to go and had ALL the momentum. That is, until we got a minute slash called on us. They manged to get a one on one and score with 20 seconds left and won the ensuing face-off. It was a rough loss, but it was the best season in team history, so there was much cause for celebration. And celebrate we did.
Apart from mandatory post game beers, the import players (yanks, as we are so graciously called) are invited (read: forced) to participate in the age-old tradition of "Pole to Pole."
The Footscray Lacrosse club is situated on about an acre of land with the capability to make 4-6 full fields. The Pole to Pole tradition is a test of endurance, stomach capacity, confidence, and, perhaps most importantly, showmanship.
To begin, each import (3 yanks and 1 Japanese goalkeeper who takes about an hour to drink half a beer) is given a pitcher of beer. As I have surely mentioned, the concept of light beer is STRONGLY frowned upon by Australian males. It is akin to drinking a Mike's Hard Lemonade with a straw in the states. That being said, our pitchers were filled with Victoria Bitter, the Budweiser of Australia. After being about 5-6 beers deep at this point, chugging and entire pitcher in front of a hundred or so rabid players and fans expecting a serious performance is quite a daunting task. Well at least I can take down Tai, our lightweight friend from the Orient. Wrong.
As we started the debauchery, we Americans are somewhat pacing ourselves to get past the foam, but still holding our own. By the time we are about halfway finished, Tai is celebrating his much deserved victory. What a snake in the grass! He absolutely dominated us while various members of the crowd were shouting "Pearl Harbor!!" Whatever, we dropped da bomb. Twice. That settles that.
After we finish the pitchers (I got third place, miserable performance), we are instructed to go into the locker room and "get our kit off" because we are running to the end of the field and back in the nude. In the cold. With a hundred or so watching and filming.
Now, I am a decorated veteran in the art of streaking (Women's Highschool Lacrosse Semi-Final (whoops, that was the baseball team, right?), Mary Markly Cafeteria during Sunday Brunch, Law Quad countless times, etc. etc.), but there has never been a significant presence of filming equipment. Oh, well, we thought. Lets put on a show. After the initial run to the other end, all four of us linked shoulders and skipped back, then proceeded to slide on our stomachs through the patches of mud. Classic. Riley had to do this a few months ago with a bum knee, which is impressive, but ours was voted the "best pole to pole ever."
The madness continued through the night capping off a great experience playing lacrosse in Australia.
In other news, my room mate Jack is leaving Australia in a few short hours. Having him leaving is really making me excited to get home. I have a few things to look forward to in the next few weeks, but as much fun as I have had in OZ, it is time to get home and start a real life. The experience of living in utter poverty has been quite eye-opening and taught me some great lessons. I still think welfare is bullshit even though I could qualify for it here in a heartbeat. Won't stoop to the level of a societal leech anytime soon.
My last day of work is on Friday and I will then have about two weeks to tie up all of the loose ends and say my good-byes/see you laters. The great thing about traveling, especially in a place like Australia, is that fact that you meet and become close friends SO MANY people from all over the place because you are all in the same boat. Many of these people are compulsive travelers and are making plans to visit the US. I let them know how much our girls will melt like butter when presented with an Aussie accent. They book flights immediately. Girls, don't let me down!
I'll probably do a few more posts when I am off work as I will have plenty of down time so keep checking in!
TaTa for now and whatever you do, don't read Anthony's blog. He told me that he doesn't have to do it for class. Rather, he has been so moved by WesDownUnder that he wanted to copy me. He begged for me not to tell anyone because he is really embarrassed. He frequently is asking me for advice on humor and wit. Clearly, my advice has not set in as his blog is completely devoid of anything remotely funny. Just kidding...but seriously.
AREEEBA DARE-CHEE
We made it to the semi-final and on a rain-soaked pitch covered with areas of nearly 10 square yards where the thought of dodging is a complete joke, the Footscray Bulldogs lost to Surrey Park 9-8. We were down by 3 with five minutes to go. Eventually we tied it up with a minute to go and had ALL the momentum. That is, until we got a minute slash called on us. They manged to get a one on one and score with 20 seconds left and won the ensuing face-off. It was a rough loss, but it was the best season in team history, so there was much cause for celebration. And celebrate we did.
Apart from mandatory post game beers, the import players (yanks, as we are so graciously called) are invited (read: forced) to participate in the age-old tradition of "Pole to Pole."
The Footscray Lacrosse club is situated on about an acre of land with the capability to make 4-6 full fields. The Pole to Pole tradition is a test of endurance, stomach capacity, confidence, and, perhaps most importantly, showmanship.
To begin, each import (3 yanks and 1 Japanese goalkeeper who takes about an hour to drink half a beer) is given a pitcher of beer. As I have surely mentioned, the concept of light beer is STRONGLY frowned upon by Australian males. It is akin to drinking a Mike's Hard Lemonade with a straw in the states. That being said, our pitchers were filled with Victoria Bitter, the Budweiser of Australia. After being about 5-6 beers deep at this point, chugging and entire pitcher in front of a hundred or so rabid players and fans expecting a serious performance is quite a daunting task. Well at least I can take down Tai, our lightweight friend from the Orient. Wrong.
As we started the debauchery, we Americans are somewhat pacing ourselves to get past the foam, but still holding our own. By the time we are about halfway finished, Tai is celebrating his much deserved victory. What a snake in the grass! He absolutely dominated us while various members of the crowd were shouting "Pearl Harbor!!" Whatever, we dropped da bomb. Twice. That settles that.
After we finish the pitchers (I got third place, miserable performance), we are instructed to go into the locker room and "get our kit off" because we are running to the end of the field and back in the nude. In the cold. With a hundred or so watching and filming.
Now, I am a decorated veteran in the art of streaking (Women's Highschool Lacrosse Semi-Final (whoops, that was the baseball team, right?), Mary Markly Cafeteria during Sunday Brunch, Law Quad countless times, etc. etc.), but there has never been a significant presence of filming equipment. Oh, well, we thought. Lets put on a show. After the initial run to the other end, all four of us linked shoulders and skipped back, then proceeded to slide on our stomachs through the patches of mud. Classic. Riley had to do this a few months ago with a bum knee, which is impressive, but ours was voted the "best pole to pole ever."
The madness continued through the night capping off a great experience playing lacrosse in Australia.
In other news, my room mate Jack is leaving Australia in a few short hours. Having him leaving is really making me excited to get home. I have a few things to look forward to in the next few weeks, but as much fun as I have had in OZ, it is time to get home and start a real life. The experience of living in utter poverty has been quite eye-opening and taught me some great lessons. I still think welfare is bullshit even though I could qualify for it here in a heartbeat. Won't stoop to the level of a societal leech anytime soon.
My last day of work is on Friday and I will then have about two weeks to tie up all of the loose ends and say my good-byes/see you laters. The great thing about traveling, especially in a place like Australia, is that fact that you meet and become close friends SO MANY people from all over the place because you are all in the same boat. Many of these people are compulsive travelers and are making plans to visit the US. I let them know how much our girls will melt like butter when presented with an Aussie accent. They book flights immediately. Girls, don't let me down!
I'll probably do a few more posts when I am off work as I will have plenty of down time so keep checking in!
TaTa for now and whatever you do, don't read Anthony's blog. He told me that he doesn't have to do it for class. Rather, he has been so moved by WesDownUnder that he wanted to copy me. He begged for me not to tell anyone because he is really embarrassed. He frequently is asking me for advice on humor and wit. Clearly, my advice has not set in as his blog is completely devoid of anything remotely funny. Just kidding...but seriously.
AREEEBA DARE-CHEE
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)
