Misadventures Around the World

Australia: Toilet Matters

noreply@blogger.com (ms.evan) — Mon, 06 Oct 2008 09:08:00 +0000

If toilet humour isn't for you, then I suggest you skip this entry dedicated entirely to the porcelain god. I'll start with this tidbit of background information: Australian toilets have a dual-flush system developed by Caroma as an effective measure to conserve water in a drought-ridden country. Use the "half flush" button (usually indicated by a half moon) when you go #1. Use the "full flush" button (full moon) when you go #2. This can save up to 67% of water usage by using an average of 3.8 litres of water per flush as opposed to the traditional 11 litres of water.

Now that you know how toilets in Australia work, I'll move on to why this topic became of interest. There seems to be a little problem with shitting at work as of late. Well, not me...One day at work I noticed a laminated poster in every bathroom stall, positioned strategically so that it is right at eye level when you are sitting down on the toilet. When I realised the poster gave directions on how to properly use a toilet, I couldn't help but laugh out loud. The pictures (see left) explicitly demonstrated the correct way of usage is to sit on the toilet seat - not squat on top of the toilet or next to the toilet. There have been complaints that people are squatting - leaving footprints on the toilet seat and/or "matter" on the floor. Fingers quickly pointed to new immigrants from South Asia, and I quickly reminded everyone I'm an American (or Canadian rather). A few of these posters have since been taken down - I'm assuming they were stolen as souvenirs. Hmm...not a bad idea. Maybe I should pilfer one myself so I can post it on our home bathroom wall for shits and giggles (pun intended).

Then last Friday I was told that someone allegedly defecated on someone else's desk. ARE YOU KIDDING ME, you ask? No, unfortunately not. Who? How? Why? How? In a corporate environment? Not to mention I work at The Bank, one of the big four "pillars" in Australia. Security initiated an investigation but who knows when or how that will be resolved. Can you imagine being that poor guy coming into work to find a pile of fecal matter on your desk - talk about having a crappy morning! What we can't figure out as spectators is whether or not the perpetrator did the deed directly on the desk or carried it from the bathroom.

And while we're on the topic, if you enjoy toilet humour as much as I do, you have to check out a very Australian movie called Kenny which I've heard is coming to America (or just download it). Kenny is a plumber and the entire movie centres around, well, toilets. Some parts are disgustingly graphic (as in spewing brown stuff) but it is laugh-out-loud hilarious; and I highly recommend watching it while not eating. You should also put subtitles on as the very thick Aussie accent may get lost in translation to the untrained American ear.

Aussie Word of the Day:
Dunny is Australian slang for toilet.
Example: Where's the dunny? I gotta go or there will be a yellow river running down my legs.

Australia: Life Lesson

noreply@blogger.com (ms.evan) — Mon, 22 Sep 2008 10:53:00 +0000

This past weekend I learnt a very important life lesson at the ripe old age of 30. Yamen and Jo came down from Sydney before tying the knot for a combined bucks/hens night (bachelor/bachelorette party). With Jimmy's help, I planned Friday night for the 10 of us starting with dinner in Chinatown followed by bowling then a pub before possibly ending up in a fine establishment with scantily-clad pole-dancing women known fondly as strippers.

What I planned and what I actually did were two different matters. To summarise what transgressed without going into all the gory details, there was a drinks event at work at 4 and I was having a great time getting my pre-party buzz. Next thing you know, it was 6 o'clock and my coworker said to me in disbelief, "Ev! You drank the entire bottle of champagne by yourself!" I looked at the empty bottle in one hand and an empty glass in the other and thought, "Holy shit!" I couldn't run to the bathroom fast enough where I threw up my party food and sat on the floor for god knows how long. When I finally mustered the strength to leave the confines of the bathroom, everyone had left the office party to continue with their Friday night plans. I successfully made it down the elevator without soiling it with my puke, but as soon as I got out of the building, I threw up on the street. I was walking and throwing up while trying to hail a cab and then throwing up some more while walking all the way to the train station where I threw up again. When I got home, I knew it was over. Fun Evan turned into a party pooping disgrace. Justin tried with all his might to get me out of bed but I just couldn't do it and made him go to our friends without me.

For the next 5 hours, I lied in bed for what seemed like an eternity in hell. I couldn't sleep at all, instead feeling the pain and rawness of my stomach and throwing up everything I drank and ate and then some a thousand times. Benny and Justin finally came home at 3 in the morning from the fun night that I planned. When Justin asked in bed in his drunken stupor how he can help, I begged softly, "Please don't talk, don't move, and don't touch me." He promptly agreed but actions spoke louder than words. Not only was he shaking the bed, rolling around, farting up a storm, and scratching his bum, but he proceeded to tell me, very loudly mind you, how much fun everyone had without me and how I am like a 17-year-old who can't hold her liquor and that no one dislikes me, while singing "Don't you wish your girlfriend was hot like me!" He finally allowed me some peace and quiet by falling asleep and snoring away....That's the loving support I fully expected from my partner.

I miraculously fell asleep after a night of a violent reaction to alcohol poisoning and got up the next morning feeling less than ordinary but understanding Amy Winehouse a little better. Justin got me a bottle of vitamin water, appropriately named "Rehab." My friends forgave me, but not without giving me a lot of grief the rest of the weekend and a couple new nicknames - Spewy le Vom and Vom Vom. My coworkers on the following Monday morning were less kind, naming me Two Pot Screamer (Aussie expression for someone who gets drunk after two drinks) and Cadbury (means a glass and a half, referring to the Cadbury chocolate bar in the UK and Australia advertised as "a glass and a half of full cream milk in every pound"). The lesson here? Life is cruel when you do not know when to stop drinking. And know when to stop or you miss out on fun things with your friends because you're too busy throwing up.

Australia: Birthday at the Grampians

noreply@blogger.com (ms.evan) — Wed, 17 Sep 2008 10:18:00 +0000

We celebrated Justin's birthday last weekend by engaging in his favourite activity. No, not strip clubs (that's this weekend)... we drove as far away from the city as possible and went camping in the country!!! We left work early on Friday to drive four hours to Dunkeld where we had an 8 o'clock booking at the renowned Royal Mail Hotel - the only restaurant in this remote town but many tourists make the drive just to dine there. Winner of many awards including Two Chef's Hats (Australia's Michelin equivalent), the Royal Mail Hotel proffers three tasting menus including a vegetarian option for $100 - $150 per person as well as a bar menu. Even though each dish is dainty and elegantly served with edible wildflowers on huge plates (almost too pretty to eat), our appetites were beyond satiated by the end of the eight course meal where the last four are dessert. After feasting for two hours, we called it a night at the Sunrise on Sierra Bed & Breakfast down the street from the restaurant.

The next morning we chowed down on a hearty breakfast prepared by our lovely and talkative hostess from the UK at the B&B before taking off to the Grampians National Park. The Grampians boast majestic mountain ranges with breathtaking views and spectacular waterfalls - a big playground for big kids. We hiked a very strenuous 10 k Briggs Bluff Trail that could only be described as steep, slippery, and scary. Briggs Bluff is aptly named because you will be, as I was, fooled by the first 30 minutes of easy flat paved road. As soon as you pass the waterfalls, however, you're in for a treat. The rest of the trail is extremely rocky and dangerous and I often found myself on all fours trying to climb up the mountain while fighting the wind. Proper hiking shoes are mandatory as well as a light backpack with plenty of water and snacks. I was also feeling the start of a bad cold so the first hour was pretty miserable, but I toughed it out and made it all the way up to the top where we rested for a picnic. Boy was I glad I did not concede to my aching body, because as soon as we caught a glimpse of the view, we both gasped for breath for a split-second, overwhelmed and awed by the panoramic scenery (see pics) and nature's wondrous beauty. One false step - or strong wind - and we would have plunged to our premature deaths.

After the equally dangerous and frightening hike down, we set up camp at the Stapleton Campgrounds where we enjoyed a romantic dinner by the campfire with twenty kangaroos (or wallabees) and fifty other campers. Even though we were exhausted, we were unable to get a good night's sleep. First came the wind which kept us up with its howling, often lifting our tents from underneath. Then came the rain which woke us up in the middle of the night with the sound of heavy raindrops. Then came the sun which woke us up at dawn with its brightness seeping through. Then came the birds which woke us up in the early morning with their cacophony. We gave up trying to sleep and closed up shop instead. After stopping by an aboriginal historical art site (they drew white men stick figures) and Mackenzie Falls, we drove back home to good ole Melbourne concluding Justin's birthday celebration weekend - part 1.

Aussie Phrase of the Day:
Ripper means fantastic or great.
Example: What a ripper view at the Grampians!

Australia: Melbourne Events

noreply@blogger.com (ms.evan) — Sun, 31 Aug 2008 00:34:00 +0000

I know I've been pretty slack the last few weeks - but for good reason (or may just pure laziness). Melbourne is renowned for e world. Recently there has been an influx of events taking place in Melbourne so it is my duty to attend and write about them.

Art After Dark - Art Deco Exhibit: being the cultural centre of Australia, attracting artists, musicians, comedians, festivals, and shows from all over thFrom July through September, the NGV - National Gallery of Victoria is displaying exquisite Art Deco pieces (paintings, costumes, ad prints, architecture, furniture, ocean liner, automobiles...) from around the world during 1910 - 1939. Think flappers of the Roaring Twenties, Fred & Ginger, lamps with built-in ash trays, lime green radios, Chrysler building, Coit Tower, Cubism...well, that's all I can remember from the exhibit. Every Wednesday night, the NGV comes alive with Art After Dark where you get to experience the exhibit at night with dance performances, music, speakers, and food and wine. Perfect for an after-work date.
Sigur Ros Concert: Justin bought tickets to hear his favorite Icelandic band perform at a sold-out show in Melbourne (during the same weekend as our company ski trip which we had to miss thanks to dumb ass). I had never heard of them before so I was even more reluctant to attend. Little did I know, Justin's been playing their music around the house for months which I instantly recognised and took a liking to. Hearing them live was even more spectacular. Sigur Ros sings in their own made-up language. It is hard to describe their music but it is theatrical and melodic and unlike any other sounds I've ever heard. If they are touring in your city, I highly recommend checking them out.
White Charlie's Grand Opening: Kyoko took Rita, Stephanie, and me (all fellow expats) to a bar opening owned by her friend in Prahan where we rubbed elbows with TV celebrities (one I even recognised) and Miss Australia. After waiting outside in the freezing cold (don't forget - it's winter down here) for the longest 15 minutes of my life, the owner finally came out to greet us and let us in past the queue. Packed with attractive fashionable Melbournians air kissing each other, it felt like a wannabe glitsy Hollywood event in a small town (I tend to forget that Melbourne is one of the biggest cities in Australia).
Altar Boyz: Nokomi scored free tickets through work for a musical comedy about a religious boy band. It was cute and hilarious with cheesy music and dance moves reminiscent of the Backstreet Boy / N Sync days. While the rest of us thoroughly enjoyed the live show which won Best Off Broadway Musical, Justin wasn't very amused - he thought a 5-minute SNL skit was enough to do the theme justice.
Taste of Melbourne: A couple weekends ago, Yamen and Joanna came down from Sydney for work. While the boys went to the footy game in Geelong (an hour and a half away from Melbourne), Jo and I went to a food and wine festival at the Royal Exhibition Centre where top restaurants in the city (Nobu, Court House, Circa, The Stokehouse, Longrain) showcased their signature dishes. We were regaled for three hours with wine, honey nectar, black cod, slow cooked pork belly, and fabulous desserts (our favorite was a Greek donut filled with turkish delight on top of panacotta). At $25 for admission plus $8-$16 per dish (appetizer size), Taste of Melbourne was a bit of a ripoff but we were stuffed nonetheless and had the best time eating the Sunday afternoon away. We capped off with a nap at the Crowne Plaza where Jo was staying.
The Mummy Premiere: Annie and I went to see Edge of Love (Sienna Miller and Kiera Knightley) at the Melbourne Central Hoyts Theatre and accidentally stumbled upon the red carpet premiere of The Mummy. When we were getting our tickets, we heard all this commotion with dragon dancing typical of Chinese New Year. We quickly found out that it was the movie premiere and Brendan Fraser (Annie's favourite Hollywood crush) was attending. We managed to squeeze past the crowd scoring front-row standing spots behind the velvet rope. After waiting for 15 minutes, Brendan Fraser finally made his appearance and shook everyone's hands and signed autographs. When he got close to where we were standing, Annie had an actual conversation with him asking him how his flight was and how he was feeling. He apparently winked at me according to Annie but I was too busy trying to get a notebook for him to sign for her. His appearance was disappointing in person to say the least. His balding scalp was haphazardly covered up by hair plugs while his makeup was thick but didn't hide his aging skin. He is not as tall as he appeared in the movies and certainly not in the best shape. Poor Encino Man looks nothing like the poster.
Yoga Expo: One Sunday we spent the entire day at the Melbourne Showgrounds where the yoga expo took place with free classes offered by various schools in Melbourne and panels with yoga experts and tasty vegetarian meals. It was a very relaxing day and helped us re-center ourselves, reminding us of what we learned in India. It's amazing how much we let our environment affect us. Now that we are working and living in the city again, we get so caught up with the every day life that we have almost forgotten what it means to let go, live healthy, live simply. Attending the yoga expo helped remind us of that again.

Aussie Phrases of the Day:
Save it for Ron - saving something for later on
Save it for Justin - saving something for just in case
Example: Justin: why are you putting that piece of cake in your purse?
Me: Saving it for Ron! And for Justin!

Australia: Long Black or Flat White

noreply@blogger.com (ms.evan) — Sun, 03 Aug 2008 11:04:00 +0000

A long black may sound like something out of a porn flick, but it is actually a type of coffee you order when you step into a cafe. If you try to order by saying "a venti coffee" like American Brian did when he first arrived, it will have the same effect as saying "a large food and a small beverage." You will inevitably be given a weird look and then asked, "What kind of coffee?" (American Brian cracked under pressure and ordered a hot chocolate instead.)

Melbourne has a very prevalent and perhaps snobby coffee culture, which I was quite surprised to discover upon arrival. Streets are lined with fashionable cafes; walking from my house to the train station, I pass by six cafes every morning in just one block. Melburnians take their coffee very seriously. It is not uncommon for someone to have their own espresso machine (our house mate Ben has his imported from Italy). It is never brewed coffee but espresso served in a variety of ways. Trying to find a cafe that serves brewed coffee here is like needle in a haystack or coffee bean in marbles. Coffee art is also popular (made by pouring the frothy milk to form objects as shown on pictures) and shows off the artistic skills of a barista.

To arm you with coffee knowledge so you don't end up like American Brian on his first order, here's a brief description of the possible choices of coffee you can expect to find at any cafe (copied verbatim from this poster I found):

Espresso/Short Black - A short black coffee (30ml) with a thick golden layer of 'crema' served in a demitasse cup.
Hot Chocolate - A sweet rich chocolate indulgence to which freshly steamed milk is added & topped with freshly whipped cream or froth, served in a long glass.
Cappuccino - Normally 1/3 espresso to which freshly steamed milk with a mountain of thick dense foam is added, served in a cup & dusted with chocolate powder.
Long Black - Half a cup of hot water to which two shots of espresso are added.
Flat White - A shot of espresso (30ml) to which freshly steamed milk with a small amount of foam is added & served in a cup.
Short Macchiato - An espresso (30ml) stained with a dash of hot/cold milk.
Caffe Latte - A double shot of espresso (60ml) to which freshly steamed milk with a small amount of foam is added & served in a glass.
Babyccinos (not on poster) - Frothy steamed milk served in a tiny cup that moms can get for their babies. A personal favourite.

I was never much of a coffee drinker aside from the occasional visit to Starbucks back home. But many meetings here - social and business - are conducted in cafes, so I've learnt to adapt without even stepping foot in a Starbucks. I usually go with a weak skinny cappuccino (less espresso with skim milk) or a skinny chai latte with cinnamon and honey wherever chai is served. With local cafes getting most of the business, it is no wonder that Starbucks is closing 61 of 84 stores here in Australia because frankly, there's just no demand for it. Australia's coffee aficionados like to taste their coffees, not syrupy [insert fruit] creme frappuccinos with extra whipped cream that is signature of the Seattle chain (which I have to admit - I do love a Green Tea Frap). Perhaps Starbucks should have conducted better market research before trying to introduce a European cafe culture where it already existed unlike the U.S.

Australia: More Great Barrier Reef Photos

noreply@blogger.com (ms.evan) — Wed, 30 Jul 2008 10:10:00 +0000

Australia: Great Barrier Reef

noreply@blogger.com (ms.evan) — Tue, 22 Jul 2008 12:06:00 +0000

Justin and I took a little holiday (from our holiday) with American Brian and Aussie Nikki - sailing the Whitsunday Islands and diving in the Great Barrier Reef - marking one of the most eye-opening and exhilarating experiences of my life - right up there with my first taste of a certain medicinal fungus in Goa. The Whitsundays are a group of 74 islands off the coast of Queensland, Australia, formed by volcanic activity 100 million years ago and discovered in 1770 by Captain James Cook. The islands also provided access to the Great Barrier Reef, one of the world's Seven Natural Wonders and the largest coral reef system. Unfortunately, if global warming continues at its current rate, the reefs could be completely wiped out within 20 years, killing all the marine life that feeds off of it.

The Boat:
There are countless sailing options to choose from - BYO (bring your own alcohol) backpacker party catamarans to luxury yachts with white glove service to DIY (do it yourself) sailboats for rent - definitely something for everyone. After briefly contemplating sailing ourselves and quickly realizing what a disaster that would be, we decided to go with a middle-of-the-road sailboat called the Kiana - one of the few that actually sailed out to the Great Barrier Reef. Kiana is a reputable and sturdy boat that can accommodate 14 passengers and 3 crew members with two bathrooms to share. Sleeping room is pretty tight especially for Giant Brian at 6 feet 5, but manageable for the rest of us even though there are no private cabins which are unnecessary on this type of trip anyway. The crew, consisting of Brent the skipper, Paul the dive instructor / cruise director who nicknamed us Team America, and Paul the chef who nicknamed me Princess, were beyond fabulous. Not only were they very knowledgeable, capable at their jobs and catered to all our needs, their friendliness and genuine excitement made the trip that much more special. The other passengers on board included the four of us; sonnet-writing Professor Rob from Florida State University who was in Melbourne to deliver speeches; Dan and Jo - couple from the UK working and travelling in Aus for a year (just like us); Melanie and Sven - couple from Sweden here on holiday; Ciera and Emily - two Irish sisters and their husbands Joe and Matt - all of whom are teachers on their 2-month summer break; and finally Karen - a freckly Swedish girl who took a liking to Brian and Justin.

Itinerary:
Day 0: After a four hour flight from Melbourne to Hamilton Island, Australia's biggest island resort (and most expensive), we took our time enjoying the warmth of the sun and sand on the beach. We then took a ferry to Airlie Beach (backpacker central) where we spent the night before heading to the Marina at 8am the next morning.
Day 1: We checked in at the Marina, boarded Kiana, and after a safety briefing by Paul the cruise director, we set sail and made our way to the stunning White Haven beach, Australia's 4th most photographed destination (after Sydney Opera House, Sydney Harbour Bridge, and Ayers Rock). The white sand is extremely fine with 98% silica and is used by NASA to build the Hubble telescope. If you attempt to smuggle some of this fairy dust sand with you, expect to be fined a hefty $10,000 fee by Customs. We spent a few hours splashing in the crystal blue water, playing Frisbee and football, and taking pictures before getting back onto our boat. We then anchored at Bait Reef just in time to enjoy the pink sunset and whale watching. After devouring a delicious gourmet meal under the full moon with the cool ocean breeze, we gathered for a slideshow of pictures taken by Paul during the day. Then everyone went to bed early for a 5:30 am wakeup call.
Day 2: Scuba diving was on the agenda at 7 am after breakfast. Brian, Justin, and I made up the first group of non-certified divers and dived down to 9 meters under water in our mandatory stinger suit and a separate wet suit. Water temperature was a cool 20 degrees C (68 F). Unfortunately Nikki couldn't join us due to her asthma so she had to settle for snorkelling. Then after our first dive, we motored on for a few hours until we reached the Great Barrier Reef. When we jumped back into the temperate water for snorkelling, a school of humpback whales were flapping their tails and breaching in and out of the ocean just 100 meters away from where we were! Instead of snorkelling with our heads in the water, we couldn't stop watching the whales for about 20 minutes with our jaws open. When we finally started snorkelling, we were mesmerized by a melange of the most vibrant coral and fishes we've ever seen. Back on the boat, I found Paul’s camera lying around so I took the opportunity and had Justin moon the camera. After yet another gorgeous sunset which turned the sky orange and pink and watching some more whales flapping about, we had a hearty meal with fellow adventurers, reminisced about all the fabulous water creatures we saw, and gathered for our nightly slideshow which unfortunately did not include Justin’s full moon but everyone had a good laugh.
Day 3: The 5:30 wakeup call on our last day was less brutal, waking up to the soothing voice of Hawaiian musician Iz singing Somewhere Over the Rainbow. I immediately sprang out of bed and got ready for snorkelling after breakfast. It was even more amazing on the second day because the higher tide enabled us to swim right on top of the colourful coral reef. On our way back to the boat, Nikki and I unexpectedly saw a giant turtle swimming gracefully in the water. We were so excited but didn't want to scare the little guy so we swam with our arms up and down on our sides the way turtles do (as we were told to do so the turtle would think we are one of them). After an eventful morning, we had to prepare for our four-hour long journey back to Airlie Beach port. The clouds also started to form and hide the sun, making it a little chillier on our return sail. As we settled our bills and said our goodbyes, we were saddened to leave the world’s most amazing aquarium and be back on land again. Later that night we met with the Irishmen and the Swedish couple for drinks at Beaches, a local pub.
Day 4: We stayed overnight at Airlie Beach and caught the first ferry back to Hamilton Beach where we flew out of. It was grey and raining all morning which made it easier to say goodbye to paradise. Other than having the worst flight with annoying toddlers screaming the entire way, we made it safely home to Melbourne by 4 pm.
Here are a few tips on what to pack and the cost if you are interested in taking one of the most awesome and fantastic trips imaginable!

What to Pack:

Small duffel bag - carry-on hard luggage with wheels are not allowed
Camera, sunscreen and sunglasses
Bathing suit, T-shirts and shorts
Towel and toiletries - not provided on boat
Flip flops - don't bother bringing an extra pair of shoes because everyone has to surrender their footwear at the beginning of the trip and walk barefoot on the boat
Dramamine - MUST TAKE AN HOUR BEFORE YOU SET SAIL!!! Motion of the ocean can really get the best of you if your stomach is weak like mine but Dramamine worked like a charm

Cost Breakdown:

3-day 2-night on the Kiana sailboat (book direct on their website rather than through a travel agency for cheaper fares): $469 per person (includes lodging on boat, all meals, one free dive and unlimited snorkelling) + $15 (stinger suit rental) + $65 (each additional dive)
Marine Park Fee: $45 per person (mandatory fee for all divers)
Flight on Jetstar from Melbourne to Hamilton Island: $190 roundtrip
Fantasea ferry from Hamilton Island to Airlie Beach: $90 roundtrip
Accommodation on Airlie Beach - 2 nights at Airlie Apartments: $180/night for 2BR

Australia: Living la Vida Expata

noreply@blogger.com (ms.evan) — Thu, 10 Jul 2008 11:39:00 +0000

Moving to Australia this year is my third stint as an expat in a new country. While I adapt well and have a ball no matter where my host country is, I can't help but miss home during the holidays. Two years ago it was Thanksgiving in Tokyo where my fellow American expats and I threw a grand feast for our Aussie and Japanese friends with a turkey, cranberry sauce, pumpkin pie, and other must-haves. This year it was spending the Fourth of July in Australia. Since our Independence Day lied on a Friday here in the middle of winter, everyone went to work like it was any other day - quite a contrasting vibe from back home with pool parties, barbecues, or a drunken weekend at the beach. Luckily our American friends living in Melbourne threw a Taxation Without Representation party with some American nibblies like burritos and chili and of course a keg of beer. The party (and everyone's American accent) made us feel a little more at home, especially American Brian.

For the past four months, I've met quite a few Yanks living Down Under - some came here for work, some married an Aussie, some are refugees escaping the boredom of middle America. But whatever their stories, we all have one thing in common: living the expat life. There are over 60,000 Americans living in Australia whose total population is just over 21 million. Although 60,000 isn't a big number, there is certainly no lacking in the support department. Besides the US Embassy (for immigration issues), it is easy to find various support groups (one of which is the American Women's Association that my friend Annie belongs to), online forums, blogs, tax advisors, employment help, and so much more - all with a mission to facilitate Americans living in a foreign country. Although Justin and I are usually bumbling our way through without the help of any aforementioned groups, we find it pretty easy to adjust to the Aussie way of life. And now that the end of the financial year has passed (June 30th), we are quickly discovering that just because we are foreigners, we cannot escape paying income taxes here. In case I forgot to mention, Justin also found a job a month ago at a competing bank. Our offices are only a block away from each other which makes lunch-time rendezvous very convenient.

Aussie word of the day:
Chook means chicken.
Example: Pamela Anderson blasted KFC for their mistreatment of chooks while shooting Australia's Big Brother for which is ironically sponsored by KFC.

Pictures: July 4th party. Weekend trip down the Great Ocean Road to enjoy the magnificence of the Twelve (now Eight) Apostles, Grotto, and London Bridge (which fell down in 1990 leaving a couple tourists stranded on a cliff). A must-drive and must-see when visiting Victoria.

Australia: A Fete Fit For an 80's Prom Queen

noreply@blogger.com (ms.evan) — Sat, 28 Jun 2008 09:54:00 +0000

This past weekend we celebrated a very momentous occasion - my 25th birthday - with a fancy dress party (fancy dress is what Aussies call costumes). In honor of the upcoming forth of July, we made the costume theme American Pop Culture. And in typical Ms. Evan fashion where the tackier the better, I crowned myself prom queen 80's style. When we went shopping for our costumes at Salvos (Salv. Army) and found an iridescent bridesmaid A-line skirt and a purple satin pillow case, I knew I could turn it into something spectacular with Nokomi's help. My fairy godmother is a miracle worker and a genius at the sewing machine (not to mention a multi-talented chanteuse and trained dancer). With some black tulle and sequined fabric, Nokomi magically transformed my pillow case and bridesmaid skirt into a fabulous 80's prom dress in just 2 days. I added gaudy pearls, silver gloves, prom queen sash, fishnet stockings and a tiara to complete the look.
As for the party, we decked the house with American flags and red/white/blue balloons (thanks to Brian who arrived that morning from the US and is here to visit for a month) and served American nibbles like mac 'n cheese, rice krispy treats, deviled eggs, pizza, cupcakes, hot dogs, and Budweiser. Justin also compiled a 7-hour music list consisted of all American tunes from Michael Jackson to Madonna to Eminem to Guns 'n Roses. Over half of the twenty plus guests actually dressed up in a costume, not a disappointing success rate if you ask me. Guests included Don Johnson from Miami Vice who also doubled as my prom king, Maverick from Top Gun, Redneck/American Brian, Playboy Bunny, Audrey Hepburn from Breakfast at Tiffany's, Felicity Shagwell, Austin Powers, Harry from Dumb and Dumber, and Paris Hilton. We drank, danced, played beer pong and flip cup (the girls kicked the guys' ass three times in a row), and partied like it was 1985. I was caught drinking straight out of the punch bowl. Before I knew it, I passed out in my prom dress and woke up the next morning still drunk with a massive hangover and found our house looking and smelling like the aftermath of a frat party. Nonetheless I couldn't have imagined a more festive way to turn 25. Quarter of a century. I am getting up there aren't I? Oh alright... I'M THIRTY OKAY? THIRTY! BIG 3-0! I'M AN OLD BAG WITH WRINKLES AND SAGGING BOOBS AND GRAYING PUBES! I actually think I'm handling this major milestone considerably well. I mean, I'm not thrilled about leaving my 20's behind but I guess they say 30 is the new 20. So hooray for me and all my fabulous old fart friends who are turning 30 this year. What would you have dressed up as if you were at my party?
Aussie word of the day:
Slab means a carton of beer (24 pack)
Example: Gotta get a couple slabs for the party tonight.

Australia: Ugly American

noreply@blogger.com (ms.evan) — Wed, 18 Jun 2008 09:29:00 +0000

After three full months of residing in Oz, I can formulate based on my sound research a fair assessment of how Aussies view Americans. The general consensus is that we are a bunch of loud-mouth, obnoxious, rude, wasteful, xenophobic, unworldly fat f*cks who sleep with our siblings/animals/grandmas and throw chairs at each other on Jerry Springer. The clip of Ms. South Carolina (2007 Teen USA) that has been shared and mocked around the world thanks to YouTube - who answered the judge's question with gibberish about Americans not owning maps and helping South Africa - definitely hasn't helped things either. Here are a few examples of how Aussies perceive Americans.

One commercial on TV shows two American financial planners explaining to their Australian clients that if they invest wisely, they will live very comfortably in America (while pointing to a map of Australia) and retire in Florida (while pointing to New Zealand) where deers (showing a picture of kangaroos) roam free. It's a funny stab at Americans, but that stereotype is supported by the unfortunate fact that almost 75% of Americans don't even have a passport, most of us do not know world geography (can't even locate Australia on a map), and we all seem to think the world revolves around our nation. On the contrary, every Australian I've met is well versed in world affairs (they know more about the Hillary/Obama election than I do!), can identify every country/capital/flag, and has lived overseas and/or travelled extensively around the globe.

In yesterday's mX (Australian's free newspaper in Melbourne/Sydney/Brisbane), an article revealed a blog site where Americans living in Australia complain about how Aussies stink, literally, and should drink less beer (which apparently is partly to blame for the stench), wash their hair more often, and use more deodorant. The response to that by a contributing writer was less than kind, stating, "The most culturally bland, fast-food consuming, over-exposed citizens on Earth have a problem with the way Aussies smell...the Americans are shooting their mouths off again." Come on Yanks! If you are an expat living somewhere else, at least have a tiny shred of respect for the citizens of your host country and avoid insulting them. That's like calling your half-Indian boyfriend curry-munching cab driver! Oh wait...(Well he calls me a slut all the time so we're even.)

On the flip side, no matter how much Americans are perceived to be ignorant and all the rest of it, there is definitely a love-hate relationship whether Aussies admit it or not. Simply go to any newspaper stand and you’ll find every gossip magazine is graced by Hollywood celebs. Or turn on the TV at any given time and it’ll be broadcasting American TV shows (or Aussie versions of our shows like Big Brother, Biggest Loser, So You Think You Can Dance, and Australia’s Got Talent.). Not to mention many of our movies – blockbuster or not - are released here as well. Their celebrity obsession has everything to do with Hollywood. That's Hollywood, USA. So the million dollar question is, would there be such a pervasive invasion of American culture if there wasn't an overwhelming appetite for it? It’s Economics 101 of demand and supply.

Finally, my favorite quote so far about Americans was overheard when my housemate Ben and I were on the train to work and a bunch of Aussie schoolboys were chatting about boy stuff. When one of them brought up how stupid American-rules soccer is, another boy responded, "Americans eat hamburgers!" which gave Ben and me a good chuckle.

In conclusion, Australian grown-ups think Americans are fat and stupid while their kids sum us up in one phrase: we eat hamburgers. Perhaps I should start introducing myself as Canadian. Only kidding...No matter what, I'd still rather be called an ugly American than a boring Canadian, eh?

Aussie slang of the day:

Wombat is a furry animal in Australia (left picture) who eats roots and leaves .

In slang, wombat is used to describe a guy who likes one-night stands because he eats, roots*, and leaves.

*As you may recall from an earlier lesson, root is Aussie slang for shagging.

Pictures: Our first book club brunch meeting at Blue Train Café where only 3 of the 6 members showed up to review Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austen. Unlike my last book club with friends in DC (miss ya Sylv!), we were actually engaged in in-depth discussions about the book. Book club was followed by a visit to the National Gallery of Victoria and Buddhist Festival. I had a real nerdy, I mean, cultural, day.

Australia: Occupational Hazard

noreply@blogger.com (ms.evan) — Thu, 05 Jun 2008 19:37:00 +0000

The current selection in my roster of books is called Emergency Sex and Other Desperate Measures - a memoir by three UN workers on peace keeping missions to export democracy and restore peace in war-torn countries in the 90's. The authors are my new heroes (move over Britney!) as they dodge bullets, UN bureaucracy, and other occupational hazards to save lives. Every morning on my train ride to work, I am transported to a dangerous and alluring world of massacres and genocides. Sometimes I even drift off into my own literary fantasy while staring blankly at the pages of my book.

Time is present day. Location is some remote town in Africa. Along with fellow foreign aid workers, we are dressed in our UN uniforms and have secretly opened a relief camp to provide food and medical help for survivors of a genocide mission. "Roger Roger. This is Persimmon 321 [my code name]. Is this Currylicious 69 [Justin's code name]? We have an emergency situation. Cupcakes are running low. I repeat. Cupcakes are running low. I did not mean to finish off the last dozen but they were mocha with cinnamon frosting. We need to replenish. STAT. I mean, ROGER. I mean, OVER! And bring some milk, too. Persimmon out!"

"We are now approaching Flagstaff station," interrupts the female voice on the intercom and I am snapped back into reality. As I head into the office, I find myself in a war zone of my own. Working conditions are subpar. The kitchen is the size of a koala's butthole with appliances older than your momma. Our floor is undergoing construction so we are sniffing in sawdust on a daily basis while exposing our ears to constant cacophony of hammering nails and tripping over metal cranes. Our occupational health is hazardously jeopardized. Then I receive a new laptop and am told it is my responsibility to assemble it together with my monitor and docking station. Not only do I have to carry all the equipment by myself, I am on all fours attempting to connect cables and such. This is way outside the perimeters of my job description. My piano hands are not intrinsically meant for such heavy lifting and manual labor (they are made for writing and piano playing and occasionally jerking off Currylicious 69.) Nonetheless, I am armed with my Clark Kent glasses and a laptop on a mission to improve The Bank's business process and increase their bottom line. Just what every wide-eyed idealistic girl dreams of in saving the world one Australian dollar* at a time.

*At the time of this entry, AU$ 1 = US$ 0.958.

Aussie word of the day:
Stumps: slang for end of the day
Example: Deliver those cupcakes and milk to the base camp by stumps!
Note: Stumps is a cricket term meaning the end of the day's play.

Australia: Jazzas and Maccas

noreply@blogger.com (ms.evan) — Wed, 04 Jun 2008 09:34:00 +0000

Aussies love assigning nicknames to everyone and everything. For first names, they take your first initial and append it with "azza" so Karen becomes Kazza, Jeremy becomes Jazza, and so on. For last names, they take the first syllable and add an "o" or "ie" - Lambert is Lambo and Brown is Brownie. Similar approach is used for cities and places: Brisbane = Brissy, Salvation Army = Salvo, McDonald's = Maccas. When a word can be shortened, it most likely is: footy for football, brekky for breakfast, parma for chicken parmigiana, roo for kangaroo, and arvo for afternoon.

An even more interesting (and weird) method is rhyming nicknames. Rather than trying to explain how it works which I'm not so sure I can do, I'll illustrate by using examples. At a football game, when a player scores, fans yell out "Sausage!" Why? Because sausage goes with roll (as in "sausage roll") and roll rhymes with goal but somehow roll was dropped so it's just sausage. When someone says, "Pass the dead horse" it means "Pass the ketchup." Well, Aussies call ketchup tomato sauce and they pronounce "dead horse" as dead'ause which rhymes with tomato sauce. Of course for me and you there is absolutely no logic behind it whatsoever but I guess somehow it makes sense to Aussies. Here's a couple more: To wear a "bag of fruits" means a tie and suit (well at least fruit actually does rhyme with suit). Lastly, Americans are called "Seppos" because Septic tank rhymes with Yank. I'm sure there are heaps more but this Seppo's got to go.

Aussie word of the day:
Ta: thank you
Example: [Waiter:] Here's your bill. [You:] Ta.

Pictures: Our friend Miss K put on a fabulous one-woman musical comedy show at the incredibly kitschy Butterfly Club in South Melbourne. Afterwards we each got the special drink of the week called Skinny Cunt. When some girl asked the bartender what was in it, I said "Me!"

Australia: Apollo Bay

noreply@blogger.com (ms.evan) — Thu, 29 May 2008 11:36:00 +0000

Work has sucked all the creative energy and comedic juices out of me. All I am able to write in this week's entry is that we spent a romantic weekend at Apollo Bay. After a humorously bad start (we didn't even know how to get to the highway), we made it down the four-hour long drive on the [wrong side of the] scenic but windy Great Ocean Road along the Indian Ocean shore. After I recovered from car sickness, we checked into our studio apartment hotel and took a long stroll on the beach (I know - so cliche). We ate the best octopus of our life at the famed Chris's Beacon Point Restaurant sitting atop some cliff over Bass Strait and watched the sunset against a backdrop of pillowy pink skies. The next morning we hiked a portion of the Great Ocean Walk, picnicked at Johana Beach, and were lucky enough to catch the cutest little kaola bear wandering around. Justin was tempted to make a kaola rug out of him. Fantastic weekend. Enjoy the pictures (check out the crazy signs of all the animals that we don't have back home). The end.

Aussie Phrase of the Day:
Shrimp on the barbie: grilling shrimp on the barbeque.
Example: How about another shrimp on the barbie?
(I am kidding. Sorry but I am so lazy and tired that I can't even think of a proper Aussie phrase to teach you. Aussies don't even say that here - they call shrimp "prawns". I promise I'll be much better next week.)

Australia: Let's Hear the Music

noreply@blogger.com (ms.evan) — Tue, 20 May 2008 11:55:00 +0000

Australia has a radio station broadcasted throughout the entire country called Triple J. Imagine taking a road trip and not having to fuss with the radio to find a station to listen to. Triple J is also a non-profit radio station so their programming isn't interrupted with annoying advertisements every ten minutes. What you get is an eclectic mix of music from all genres, headline news every hour, and funny talk shows featuring guests who can say whatever is on their mind without the censorship American radio stations have to deal with. Not only do they play Michael Jackson, Bob Marley, Radiohead, and Smashing Pumpkins, I am also exposed to British and Aussie and even American bands that I have never heard of. My new favorite song is called I'll Kill Her by a French singer named SoKo. I get a kick out of it every time it's on. Delivered in a cute scratchy voice with the perfect accent francais, the lyrics are hilarious and deliciously psychotic:

i would have waited like a week or two
but you never tried to reach me
no, you never called me back
you were dating that bleach-blonde girl
if i find her, i swear, i swear…
i’ll kill her, i’ll kill her
she stole my future, she broke my dream
i’ll kill her, i’ll kill her
she stole my future when she took you away
she’s a bitch you know, all she’s got is blondeness
not even tenderness, yeah, she’s cleverless
she’ll dump your arse for a model called brendan
he will pay for beautiful surgery ’cause he’s full of money

In other music news, last month Madonna released her 21st album in 20 years. Although I have yet to buy the CD, I am immune to critics who are denouncing her desperate attempt at garnering young audiences by collaborating with the likes of JT. No price is too high for her music or live performance (I have had the honor of attending her last three tours in DC, NY, and Tokyo.) A devoted fan for two decades, I am in awe of her timeless beauty, musical ingenuity, and of course her MILF-ness.

Aussie Word of the Day:
Bogan refers to a certain part of the working class that is not particularly popular with the rest of society. A stereotypical bogan has a mullet or dreadlocks; lacks personal hygiene and fashion sense, often wearing flannel shirts with torn 80's jeans or long second-hand skirts with Birkenstocks; drives a beat-up Ford; listens to heavy metal (AC/DC); and is either unemployed or blue-collar.
Example: Dude, that bogan chick is pretty cute - if you clean her up a bit. Wash her hair, put some makeup on, and give her something slutty to wear. Not sure how to get that Eau de Toilet stench off though.

Top Ten Most Hated Workplace Personalities:

noreply@blogger.com (ms.evan) — Sat, 17 May 2008 11:16:00 +0000

I have fully submerged myself in the vast corporate ocean – and not just any part of the ocean but I’ve dived straight into deep end: the prestigious and selective banking area often closed off to the public. After such a long period sunbathing on the sand, I am reminded of why I hate certain types of “swimmers” if you will. I’ve only just started at The Bank so I don’t have any complaints just yet – everyone is smart, friendly and good to work with. From my years of corporate experience across many industries, I'm simply reminded and fascinated that it seems no matter what company, industry, or country you're in, these types of people exist that make you want to roll your eyes and punch them in the face. I have compiled my list below:

Top Ten Most Hated Workplace Personalities:

The Incompetent Manager: The guy who doesn't know what he's talking about but loves to hear his own voice. We all know he's the office idiot, constantly spewing bullshit out of his ass. But he's your manager so you do all the work while he takes all the credit when the project is a success.
The Ambitious Brown-noser: The guy who kisses ass every chance he gets. Usually pretty bright, on the fast track and always politically correct, he acts as the "hall monitor" to the rest of us who bend the rules and make inappropriate comments. You feel nauseous every time you see him sticking his nose up the boss' ass.
The Loud Cell Phone Guy: The guy who is always on his goddamn cell phone and talks so loud that you can't help but hear who he shagged last night or when his next dentist appointment is. Or he leaves his phone on his desk when he goes to a meeting and it rings every five seconds with an annoying ring tone like "My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard..."
The Office Bitch: In my industry, there are not that many females so whenever I meet another girl I'm always excited to have female company. However, some women, usually average looking but delusional and think they are hotter than they actually are, have an innate jealousy and competitiveness and do not like to share the limelight with other women. So listen up bitch, I'm here to make money and make friends - not to steal any attention of dirty old men from you. It is not my fault some of us are better looking and naturally more charming than you are.
The Office Gossip: This is the girl you cannot trust. She may seem like everyone's best friend but she talks shit about you behind your back. This is often the same person as the Office Bitch and usually best friends with the Ambitious Brown-noser.
The Office Slob: This is the person who always looks frazzled with wrinkled clothes and does gross things in the office like chew with their mouths open or cut their nails at their desk or leave the toilet un-flushed. I don't want to hear "click click click" [nail clipper sound] in the office. And I certainly don't want to see your piss/shit/bloody tampons in the toilet or your curly fries on the toilet seat.
The Arrogant Know-It-All: This is the guy who knows everything about everything endlessly spitting out useless trivia. He is also a connoisseur of all the fine things in life and brags about his Ferrari or $1,000 bottle of '83 Grange. You want to hate him but you know he's the loser who used to get beat up in school and he's simply compensating. You also don't mind him because his wealth of knowledge is useful at times, like when you want to know where to find sushi served on naked women.
The Sick Person Who Insists on Going to Work and Getting Everyone Else Sick: Why do people insist on coming to work when they're sick? Trust me, whatever your contribution is to the world, it's not that important and it can wait. I don't mind when people get sick - it happens to the best of us. But stay home so you don't contaminate the entire office! And the sound of sniffling every 13 seconds makes me want to pull my hair out. Take a goddamn tissue and blow! (This was particularly evident in Tokyo because it is considered impolite to blow your nose in public, so I'm left with a half-bald head.)
The Smelly Guy. This is the person who either has really bad BO and doesn't know it or who wears way too much cologne/perfume - either way it is a preemptive strike on your nose. Some guys mask their BO by dousing themselves with cheap cologne which makes everyone want to vomit, especially when we are all confined in a tiny conference room with them. I had to inform a manager once to stop wearing so much cologne because it made me want to THUR-ROW UP.
The Stinky Food Lady. This is the lady who always brings her stinky food to work. If you insist on microwaving your leftover fish for lunch, then be a little considerate and eat it outside or in the stairwell where nobody goes unless there is a fire. We don't need the entire floor to smell like your day-old fish. Well, I guess I can't complain too much about people's stinky food. If you've ever worked with me, you can attest that I eat all day at my desk which is always well stocked with plenty of snacks and fruits. Since fruits attract fruit flies, they tend to swarm around my desk. I must admit, it's pretty gross. Unfortunately, the fruit flies have followed me all the way to Australia, so I have decided to turn over a new leaf. Starting next week, I will not make my desk look like a fruit market any longer and scare off my new coworkers.

So there you have it. Sucky work people transcend all industries and countries. And midgets are funny, too. (That's what she said.)

Aussie Word of the Day:
Pack means PowerPoint presentation (or deck as Americans like to call it).
Session means meeting.
Example: I need you to create a pack for our session with the stakeholders next week. Have it on my desk by tomorrow.
Note: Since we're on the topic of work, I might as well teach you some corporate words I learned last week (these are used by Brits as well). When my boss told me to "create a pack," I was like, "a pack of what....wolves?"

Australia: Universal Healthcare

noreply@blogger.com (ms.evan) — Tue, 13 May 2008 11:18:00 +0000

Watching Michael Moore's Sicko rendered me slightly skeptical of the existence and benefits of universal healthcare offered by many countries around the world, especially those less developed than the U.S. Fitting to a politically driven documentary, Sicko illustrates the atrocity of one government by exemplifying the superiority of many others. Now I am a true believer that universal healthcare does exist and it does work for the benefit of the citizens.

Australia's universal health insurance program known as Medicare is largely funded by tax revenue. It covers all Australians and pays for the entire cost of treatment in a public hospital and doctor visits. Every employee has to pay a percentage of their paychecks to Medicare. But if you elect to have private insurance, then you can file for a rebate that covers 30% of your premium. I'm sure there are shortcomings to Medicare, but just to be able to see a doctor without ripping a new butthole is enough for me to say YES to universal healthcare.

Back on the home front, John McCain is campaigning for putting "families in charge" of their healthcare, which is simply masking his message of "No you poor saps! If I'm elected President, we will never pay for your healthcare. So what if our children are starving and our families can't afford gas or health insurance? We have other priorities like winning a pissing contest with the rest of the world. Grrrrr! Oh I'm so old I could die."

Besides universal healthcare, you know what else Australian citizens receive? Expectant mothers are entitled to one year of unpaid leave and are guaranteed their former jobs upon their return to the workforce. If you are a public school teacher here, you can take three years of unpaid leave. Compare 52 weeks that Aussie mums get to spend with their newborn as opposed to a pathetic 6 weeks that American mommies are allowed. Good thing I don't plan to be a mother (unless I get knocked up and have a shotgun wedding.)

Aussie Word of the Day:
Whinge means to complain and bitch.
Example: Whinge whinge whinge! If Australia is so great, then MOVE there! [Something I may expect someone to say to me after reading my blog.]

Australia: First Day of School

noreply@blogger.com (ms.evan) — Sun, 11 May 2008 05:02:00 +0000

The weekend before last marked the end of my "summer vacation" as I made the final countdown to the first day of school. A bunch of us drove a couple hours down the coast to the Peninsula where Ben's friend has a commodious beach house with over twenty beds. We shopped at the market, strolled on the beach, ate fish and chips, and played games until 4 am. The relaxing weekend, though cloudy, ended too quickly and I soon found myself feeling excited and nervous at the same time: What am I going to wear? Who am I going to eat lunch with? I am the new kid in school and have to make the best first impression.

Dressed in black from head-to-toe, I blended right in with the rest of the corporate drones rushing to get to work on a busy Monday morning in the CBD (Melbourne's Central Business District). Australian corporate culture is similar to ours, at least at first glance, so there is not much to report there. When I attended my first meeting, however, I felt like I was watching a foreign film where the subtitles only appeared 50% of the time. My naivete led me to believe that I had mastered Aussie English by hanging out with locals but I was wrong: professional Aussie English is a whole new language, especially when it is delivered at lightning speed and heavily peppered with esoteric bank jargon and acronyms. As for the social scene, there isn't much of one, at least not on my floor. Everyone I've met so far is friendly, but they are buried deep in their own projects that I've had no one to play with. This is so different from the instant popularity I have taken for granted whenever I join a new project. It's no fun being the new girl with no friends.

Between my job and my usual nightly plans, I have to multi-task every chance I get: reading the paper while on the short 6-minute train ride, checking email while eating lunch at my desk, and brushing my teeth while having sex...I haven't even had time to take a shit. There is simply not enough time in the day to work and play. But I do have to suck it up for at least 3 months until my contract ends so I can make as much money as I can to support our lifestyle. Seems that the little yuppie sitting on my right shoulder has won this battle against the little hippie sitting on my left. Thank goodness for my stay-at-home boyfriend who cooks me breakfast every morning and tends to my every need. He has officially been upgraded from a manwhore to house husband while I bring home the proverbial bacon (vegetarian).

Pictures: Portsea Pub. Beach. Crazy Jenga.

Aussie Phrase of the Day:

Dob in a Hoon means to report (dob in) a reckless driver (hoon).

Example: Slow down you crazy hoon or I'm dobbing on you!

Explanation: Billboards are all over highways with the above phrase and a phone number as a part of the government's campaign to warn against dangerous driving.

Australia: Welcome to the World of Contracting

noreply@blogger.com (ms.evan) — Thu, 01 May 2008 20:07:00 +0000

After five weeks of job search where my emotions often oscillated between disappointment and hope, frustration and determination, I finally landed a job and I start next Monday! Just when I was about to throw in the towel, I received not one, not two, but three offers in the span of five days. It must have had something to do with my haircut. (My superstitious nature led me to believe that bad luck was weighing me down in the form of my split-end-ridden hair. And I was right!) The past two weeks post-haircut have been particularly crucial as events unfolded that thrusted me into the world of contracting whether I was ready or not. I am discovering for myself just how tenuous the job market is and if you don't play your cards right, you may start off with three offers but end up with none. This was the process I went through that finally got me a job (Cliffs Notes version so you don't fall asleep on your keyboard):

Offer #1: When I read the job description for a 6-month contract at a women's hospital, I was beside myself because it was everything I was passionate about and would take my career to the next level. I applied online, got a call back, and went into Vagina Hospital* for an interview. Everything went beyond smoothly on both sides until the very end when they told me the salary would be a bag of peanuts. I quickly did the math in my head and realized that my daily rate would be 2 peanuts a day which is precisely half of my usual rate of 4. Then they quickly corrected my math, "That's the per annum salary so it would be cut in half for a 6-month contract." Although the voice in my head was screaming, "EXQUEEZE ME? I'd be working for one measly unsalted peanut a day?" I was able to compose myself and feign enthusiasm nonetheless.
Offer #2: A recruiter I interviewed with several weeks ago finally called me back and asked me to meet with the client, a car accident insurance agency, for a less challenging role. Car Wreck Inc. and I met at a cafe for about 20 minutes and they wanted me to start the following week. The pay would be 3 peanuts a day.
Offer #3: A friend of mine introduced me to Pimps R Us, the company she works for; after weeks of not hearing back, they found me a position at The Bank - one of Australia's biggest financial institutions. The Bank liked what I did at another bank in Tokyo and wanted to meet with me at yet another cafe which left me pondering, why do Aussies love to conduct interviews over coffee? Even though the job is not really what I wanted as it would be a career derailment, I'd get 4 peanuts a day.

Vagina Hospital was the first to offer me a position. Since I knew sooner or later I'd have other options, I had to gracefully turn it down via email. Then Car Wreck Inc. offered me a job two days after. But I wanted the big prize so I stalled and "accidentally" missed two phone calls from them asking me if I can start the next day.

3:00: I reluctantly called back and explained my situation that I was waiting for another contract which was longer duration and more pay. They gave me a deadline of 4:30 to make a decision or they will contact my backup to take my place. I then gave Pimps R Us the same deadline.

4:25: Pimps R Us called to inform me that The Bank will get back to them by 5 to discuss if and when I can start. My heart was pounding because I didn't have until 5. What if The Bank said they no longer needed my services and by then it'd be too late to get the job at Car Wreck Inc. At first I would've been happy with any job offer. But now that I actually had choices, I felt blessed and cursed at the same time by the predicament I was in.

4:30: I called Car Wreck Inc. and asked for another extension until 5:30 and they agreed.

5:20: Pimps R Us called and congratulated me on securing a 3-month contract at The Bank for 4 peanuts a day. I will start the following Monday.

5:25: Breathing a sigh of relief, I apologized to Car Wreck Inc. for giving them the run-around. At least their backup candidate will be happy to take my backup job.

Next Day: I went into the Pimps R Us office to sign the contract and even tried to negotiate for 4 and a half peanuts a day. I know - my balls are getting more steely by the minute. I didn't get the rate increase but it certainly didn't hurt to try. I then found out that the project I'd be leading at The Bank doesn't even start for another couple months, but they didn't want to lose me to another job so they are giving me a random assignment until the project starts. Human nature is funny isn't it? For weeks no one wanted to hire me. Now that Vagina took the first bite, everyone else wants a piece of me too. Well I'm certainly copacetic with the situation.

Finally, a big THANK YOU to Jimmy, a seasoned contractor, who has been such a great help throughout this whole ordeal. Also thanks to Justin and Ben who have been given a play-by-play without their consent every time something minor and major happens.

*Company names have been changed to protect the not-so-innocent.

Pictures: Shrine of Remembrance on St. Kilda Rd.

Australia: Calling All Fare Evaders

noreply@blogger.com (ms.evan) — Tue, 29 Apr 2008 08:46:00 +0000

The public transportation system in Melbourne called Metlink is very convenient, although its cleanliness is another story. When you buy a ticket, you can use it on the bus, tram, or train. Trams even have GPS built in so you can check on the monitor (right picture) when the next tram will arrive. While Metlink is nothing special to write home about, I did notice a humorous ad campaign known as Karma Central with life size posters all around the city warning citizens of fare evasion. The message is simple: if you don't pay your way, something bad will happen like getting splashed by water or sitting on a freshly painted bench. My favorite ad is the girl with her skirt stuck in her granny panties (because that could so happen to me!)

I didn't understand why there was a need for such an ubiquitous ad campaign. When you ride the train, you have to buy a ticket to pass through the turnstiles and the turnstiles are guarded by attendants at major stations. Then I rode the tram and understood why. I'd guesstimate that only two out of ten passengers actually validate their tickets when they get on the tram. According to Metlink's website, it is estimated that fare evasion costs the system $48 million a year in lost revenue. At first I thought it was only cheap Asians or Indians, but as I watched carefully, I realized that like cancer or venereal disease, fare evasion is an unbiased affliction regardless of race, gender, age, or class. Just about everyone gets on and sits right down without paying for the ride. While it's tempting to save a few bucks, I'd highly advise you against fare evasion not because of karma, but because there are undercover hall monitors lurking around to check everyone for a validated ticket and fining violators $100. Hmmm...Since we're still unemployed, maybe we could pretend to be one of those hall monitors and fine people.

Photo of tram courtesy of Moorabbin Flying Services.

Australia: Bicycle Diaries

noreply@blogger.com (ms.evan) — Tue, 29 Apr 2008 00:56:00 +0000

A mother in Thailand has to decide whether to sell her 5-year-old son to child prostitution to ameliorate their impoverished conditions. My sister is torn between getting layers cut or a body wave. A teenage girl gets knocked up the first time she has sex and is forced to choose what to do with the baby. A father caught in a political gunfire must decide whether to shoot back at armed forces surrounding his house while his family is still inside. Our housemate Ben, in his meticulously drawn-out process of furnishing his home, is facing a tough dilemma between the 40" plasma TV or the 46". As you can see, every day around the world each one of us has to make decisions that may affect the rest of our lives. Justin and I are no different - every morning we wake up with the same dilemma: do we look for a job or do we go for a bike ride? Every morning our question is conveniently and resolutely decided by Mother Nature who has blessed us with blue bird sky and warm weather.

This past week, we have gone on bike rides every single day leaving my ass as sore as an altar boy's at a Catholic church. And you know how Asian women can't drive, well it turns out we're not that good on bikes either especially when pedestrians and cars are around. Move out of my way Granny! Still, I am undeterred and think cycling is the most winsome and leisurely way to tour Melbourne. The best trip so far has been taking our bikes on the train to Brighton Beach, then ride along the bay to St. Kilda where we stopped for lunch at the famed Stokehouse. We didn't plan out our route or have any maps with us - we just kinda winged it and kept following the yellow brick bike trail. But somehow we managed to make it all the way home after a full day of riding 30 km. (This is eerily parallel to how we lead our lives: Pick a destination without much planning, have blind faith that we will make it there and back while eating good food along the way.) So when you decide to come for a visit, forget tour buses - we have decided to take you on day-long bike rides instead.

As for every one else's decisions? The Thai mother sold herself to prostitution to spare her young son. My sister got layers after her hairdresser promised to show her how to create body waves with a straightener. Juno had the baby with that cute dork from Superbad and gave it to Sydney Bristow. A 14-year-old girl is dead as a result of her Hamas father's decision to fire back at the Israeli Defense Forces. After we unanimously agreed that an extra 6 inches never hurt anybody Ben chose the Sony 46" TV which will arrive in the next couple days. And last but not least, Justin and I are still unemployed.

The last three photos courtesy of QGuide (St. Kilda seaside) and Murray Oz Blog (Brighton beach houses).

Australia: Happy ANZAC Day!

noreply@blogger.com (ms.evan) — Sat, 26 Apr 2008 23:19:00 +0000

This past Friday was a national holiday known as ANZAC Day where 35,000 gathered at the Shrine of Remembrance in Melbourne for the Dawn Service. We considered attending but the thought of waking up at 5am was enough to squash that idea. According to the Australian War Memorial website, "ANZAC Day – 25 April – is probably Australia's most important national occasion. It marks the anniversary of the first major military action fought by Australian and New Zealand forces during the First World War. ANZAC stands for Australian and New Zealand Army Corps. The soldiers in those forces quickly became known as ANZACs, and the pride they soon took in that name endures to this day." Like our Memorial Day, ANZAC day is a great way for Aussies to get together with families and friends by a weekend getaway or barbeques and playing Two-Up (a traditional gambling game where you toss two coins and wager on either Heads or Tails.)

Our friends from Sydney - Yamen and Jo - came down to Melbourne for work and stayed for the holiday weekend. We started our own celebration with Bingo night (definitely not your granny's version) where you win tens of dollars worth of crap. Every time a certain number was called, we had to say a funny corresponding phrase. For example, when a number ends in 0, we raised our glasses and said "Cheers!" When there is a 2 or 22, we quacked like a duck. 72: "The old lady can't keep her poo!" 73: "The old lady can't keep her wee!" And so on. Ben even got to be a contestant for Wheel of Fortune and came home with the big prize of a gaudy fish lamp which complements the Tibetan rug in the living room quite well.

Bingo was then followed by a visit to Spearmint Rhino, a world-renowned gentlemen's club with locations in the UK, North America, Australia, and New Zealand. [Little side note about strip clubs: Justin is a strip club aficionado who has been to over 50 around the world and desires to marry a stripper. I went to my first outing to Mons Venus eight years ago in Tampa and have frequented many more since. The first time Justin and I hung out when we had a business meeting in San Francisco, I took him to the Gold Club and got us all in for free. He must have fallen in love with me back then. As you can see, strip clubs have a special place in our hearts.] With an affinity towards tits - big, small, fake, or real - Jo and I received a couple lap dances for 50 bucks a pop while the guys watched. One was from our favorite stripper by the name of Melody whose skin was as soft as a baby's butt. We couldn't stop touching her even when she reprimanded us and said I had "naughty hands." Hey it's not my fault her boobies fell right into my palms! Justin stood by the bar and after multiple advances, finally caved in to a hot stripper who was leaving for the night - and yes I paid for his lap dance as any good girlfriend should. The rest of us sat around the stage making those bitches work for their strip dollars. We all left around two but Ben stayed until closing...ironic considering he kept saying how degrading it was for the strippers but wouldn't discuss what didn't happen in the champagne room. I don't think it's degrading at all - we're merely helping them with their law school / single mother funds.

We topped off the weekend with a barbie and games like Jenga, Cranium, and Bullshit. Look at little Allegra try to get a beer!

Picture 1 courtesy of The Age.

Mommies in Business!

noreply@blogger.com (ms.evan) — Wed, 23 Apr 2008 07:06:00 +0000

Two of my friends from the U.S. have started their own online business and I welcome you all to check them out. They are both mommies who have managed to have a family AND start their own company. Very admirable indeed...meanwhile I can't even keep a job let alone bear children!

CUPCAKE CUDDLES: Online baby store where you will find "favorite kid products that are fun, functional, and ones that you'll want to cuddle up with!" Their feature products include the Flipper: a super cute storing solution for toothbrushes (I used to have one of those but my ex-husband kept that along with the house and the car) and BabyLegs: leg warmers that will fit your baby's chubby thighs as well as pre-teens. Who doesn't want leg warmers to spice up an outfit? And in honor of my friend's baby's upcoming 1st birthday, the website is having a promotion - use the coupon code KATIE to receive 15% off. Coupon is valid until April 30, 2008.

10 PEAKS TRAVEL: Online travel agency that is similar to Expedia, Orbitz, or Travelocity except with better fares because there is no advertising cost increase. Book your next vacation here whether it's a cruise, golf outing, last-minute deals, and so much more!

Ok I'm done advertising for my friends. It's Bingo night! WOOHOO!

Ostraya Party!

noreply@blogger.com (ms.evan) — Tue, 22 Apr 2008 00:01:00 +0000

I have no idea how an unemployed person such as myself can be so busy day in and day out. Ever since my manwhore's arrival last Tuesday, I have not had a free moment to just sit and relax or even get to read my book for our first book club meeting next week. We have been occupied with bike rides around Melbourne, shopping for food at the Queen Victoria's Market which is so overwhelming that it deserves its own entry, fixing the house, get-togethers with new friends...and oh yea, I even managed to squeeze in a few job interviews.

This past Saturday Nikki and Nokomi threw an Ostraya Party (Ostraya is how Aussies pronounce Australia) in honor of us - their American friends' arrival in their beloved country. The theme was obviously all things Australian, and the party was just another excuse for everyone to get shitfaced. Wearing the official colors of green and gold, we played footy and cricket at the park and picnicked with Aussie foods like pavlova, Anzac cookies, fairy bread (white bread with butter and sprinkles), lamingtons, and of course copious amount of beer and wine. After sun down, we moved the party to Nikki's and Nokomi's apartment where we continued eating and drinking. We also watched Kenny, a must-see Aussie comedy about a plumber who's down on his luck - it's a great story with a ton of shit jokes. (To my American friends: if you rent the DVD, make sure you have subtitles on. They talk way too fast in their Aussie accent for us to grasp half the jokes.) What a fabulous way to welcome us to Australia! Now it's back to my regular schedule of dance and yoga classes, dinners, themed parties, bike rides...We've got a movie premiere tonight and bingo tomorrow. Honestly, who has time to work???

Australia: Hairspray

noreply@blogger.com (ms.evan) — Mon, 14 Apr 2008 13:23:00 +0000

You know there are times when you look at yourself in the mirror and think, "Wow check me out! I'm looking goooood." That usually happens when the lights are on the dim side or I've had a few drinks. Then there are times when do a double take because you realize the fugly biatch staring back at you is actually your own reflection and you think to yourself, "Holy shit! A face even my mother can't love. I wouldn't do me if I had a bag over my head."

Well I had that moment the other day when I went in for an interview with yet another recruiter (whom I couldn't stop staring at the gap between her two front teeth - it was so big you could floss them with a rope). When I was leaving the dunny (bathroom), I turned around to check in the mirror that I didn't have toilet paper hanging out of my ass. That's when I noticed how unruly and mousy and long my hair had grown. I admit - the time it takes me to do my hair is quicker than my minute man boyfriend - if that's even possible. Plus my worldly possessions do not include a comb or a hair dryer. And when I say "do my hair," I really mean comb my fingers through it once or twice and move on to getting dressed. Let me put it this way: if you saw me from behind, you would've thought I was a crazy homeless lady who stole someone's suit pretending to go to work, especially since my head tends to look all over place trying to find the right building. Therefore, I jumped on the bob bandwagon and chopped six inches off my hair with Nicole Ritche as my inspiration. I can't help being a slave to trends, but only trends that will look good on me. And since I can't help that most trends look good on me, I end up being a slave to most trends. It's a viscious cycle.

I sported my new haircut Friday night when we went out dancing at Bar94 in Richmond. Crikey, I wrote an entire entry on my hair...someone isn't self-centered at all.

Pictures: Friday night at Bar 94 with Nikki, Nokomi, Ben, Jimmy, Matt, Nathan (all Aussies). Bottom left: At my American friend Annie's beautiful spacious home in Toorak.

Australia: An Effective Government?

noreply@blogger.com (ms.evan) — Sat, 12 Apr 2008 00:34:00 +0000

Americans reading this: you have two seconds to tell me who the Prime Minister of Australia is. One-Mississippi. Two-Mississippi. Time's up! It is the honorable Kevin Rudd, ladies and germs. The more I learn about him, the more I am in awe. With unprecedented approval ratings of 70%, SEVENTY PERCENT, Mr. Rudd is intelligent, well spoken, effective, and actually listens to the people and does what he promises. (None of which I can use to describe another president we know so well. ) As soon as Rudd and the Labor Party took office late last year from the National/Liberal Party led by John Howard who is well known for his love affair with Bush, he immediately ratified the Kyoto Agreement (to reduce greenhouse gas emissions for global climate control), leaving U.S. as the only industrialized nation not to do so. Then he apologized to the Indigenous Australians (Aborigines) for the mistreatment and removal of their children in the past (known as the Stolen Generation for racial purity). He also plans to withdraw Australian troops from Iraq. All this and so much more in just a few months. Earlier this week, at a speech Premier Rudd delivered in perfect Mandarin at Beijing University, he brazenly denounced the Chinese government for human rights abuses in Tibet. Well, our president is bi-lingual too! So what if Bush often pretends to speak fluent Spanish (Hola. Si Si. My name is Hennifer Lopez.) and actually thinks his party trick never gets old? Alright, that's enough. Who isn't sick of Bush-bashing already? Let's all move on to Rudd-loving.

Speaking of loooove, my manwhore whom I haven't seen or touched in a month arrives next week. He sent me a picture of his last day of skiing (as you may recall, the bastard stayed in Colorado to finish ski season before joining me) to subtly remind me that I have plucked him out of the mountains to live in the city. What is even more unfortunate is that I'll be on the bloody rag - pun intended - the day he arrives. How's that for timing?

Picture 1: Courtesy of Parliamentary Education Office

Picture 2: Justin launching off a big one on his skis