What could be better than an afternoon full of shoving clothes in a suitcase, and food, towels, sheets, and basically my life in a bunch of bags.  I’m not sure anything tops that.  Definitely looking forward to having to move again after just 3 months!

The whole situation is really very sorted, we were basically lied to repeatedly for 3 months about how the house would be when my roommates returned from travelling.  In December, I moved in with a friend with clearly stated intentions that we’d be here for 6 months.  The apartment was previously inhabited by 3 Spanish girls and a French girl, and they told us that in March, 2 of the Spanish girls would return from travelling and we’d be 4 girls once again.  Really none of this was true.  There were 5 girls and 1 guy all sharing the apt, and they had no intentions of letting us stay in March.  They had already left a deposit with the landlord reserving their spot and ensuring leverage with him.  We never had a chance in staying.  So the 2 girls returned in March with 3 friends, but my friend and I (along with 2 others that had only planned on renting for the 3 months) still had the contract till almost the end of the month, so we had 5 extra people living for free.  In total, 9 people in the apartment, along with random friends coming and going as they pleased.  The last week of all this nonsense, the one Spanish girl tells my friend and I that we were being kicked out, and we had 2 days to find a new place.  After that, if we hadn’t found anything we were welcome to stay in the living room.  Wow, thanks a lot.  It’s been absolutely no use trying to talk to the landlord, he only cares about the money and sides with the liars.  Needless to say, it’s been a very stressful past week.  I’ve spent the past couple days looking at online ads and calling people, but it’s hard with me working nights to arrange a time to see apartments.  I’m making sure that it’s with non-smokers though, I can’t stand it anymore! 

There’s been a lot of protesting here for the last 2 weeks or so.  The government wants to raise taxes on foods being imported and exported from the rural parts, and it’s not going over well with anyone.  Every night they’re marching through the streets banging pots and pans and honking horns.  I work close to a lot of government buildings, and last night I looked out the window and the whole street was absolutely mobbed full of people marching with the pots.  Hopefully they settle something soon.

Looks like rain again and I have to walk to work soon.  I have a pair of jeans that I’ve coincidentally had on every time it’s poured while I was walking.  Maybe I should try something else.

I truly have to rush through this update because I have limited internet access through a hostel in Sydney right now.

That’s right; I’m on Spring (um, or Autumn) Break.

Things have been amazing.  I celebrated my 21st birthday in Australia with some stellar people.  I went to the beach, surfed a little, and went out to dinner (highlight:  I didn’t have to pay).

Unfortunately, I also (stupidly) decided to tackle my friends in the water at the beach a few days ago.  It started out amusing, but ended with me getting stitches over my eye.  Dumb?  I can’t even talk about it.  They didn’t even numb my eye before sewing me up.  But it’s cool, I’m a trooper.  And at least I don’t have a broken ankle? (I love you, Eva.)

I’ll update more thoroughly soon, complete with photographs and details of my insanely interesting life.

Peace and love and yay spring break!

It was finally my turn to see the Great Ocean Road.

In doing so, I was able to achieve three of my four goals listed in my mini-biography on the Study Abroad Blogs homepage.

I traveled (obviously), saw a KOALA, and surfed for four hours straight.

And I’m pretty ecstatic about it.

My friend Leanne, with whom I went to high school and who happens to be studying abroad in Melbourne as well, spontaneously booked a cabin in Lorne for this weekend and invited me to come along.  Although I wasn’t too excited about traveling a portion of the trip by myself (her campus is on the other side of Melbourne), it was nothing I couldn’t handle with the company of my iPod.

Because I’m somewhat of an insomniac, I only got about two or three hours of sleep before I began traveling at 6am on Saturday morning.  That didn’t feel too great.  Why would ANY sane person wake up that early?  I can answer my own question:  We didn’t want to waste an entire day traveling.  I was exhausted, but thankfully the adrenaline and excitement kept me awake.

I met up with Leanne and her friends at the Southern Cross train station, and we took a really fancy train to the Geelong bus stop.  I legitimately felt like I was in first class on an airplane — the seats were comfortable and spacious.  From there, it was another two hours of traveling via bus until we got to Lorne, but time flew because the view from the bus was absolutely beautiful.

We arrived at Lorne at about 12pm on Saturday, ate some lunch (one downfall:  prices in Lorne are ridiculously high.  I guess that’s the same with any vacation area, though), and checked into our accommodations.  The woman at the front desk made sure to tell us, in a condescending tone, not to be loud because it was a family community.  I hate when people assume I’m an irresponsible, noisy, 20-something year old.  But it’s okay because we didn’t have to deal with her for the rest of the trip.

When we got to our “cabin”, we were a little taken aback.  I put “cabin” in quotes because it was more of a trailer than anything else. Although we had our own refrigerator and sink, there was no bathroom.  And in place of beds with mattresses, there were four gymnasium-type mats stacked in a bunk-bed style.  Not exactly what came to mind when we envisioned “cabin on the beach.”  We whined and complained aloud for about ten minutes, and then decided to just make the best of the situation.

After the getting-into-our-faux-cabin fiasco was over, the five of us headed straight for the beach.  At first we really wanted to surf, but the waves didn’t look too promising.  We watched the surfers already out there for a while, and nobody was catching any waves.  Either the people surfing were really inexperienced, or the surf conditions were simply not the best.  We decided the case was the latter, and went for a swim sans surfboard instead.  The waves were rough, but it felt amazing to be swimming at the beach in March when most of my friends at home were probably bundled up in scarves and gloves.

After a while at the beach, and after applying about 17 layers of sunblock, we then decided to shower in the cabin community bathrooms.  They weren’t as devastating as we thought they would be, but that doesn’t mean they were pretty.

On our walk to dinner, we saw a koala hanging out on a tree!  I was entirely too excited for the situation, and almost broke my camera by zooming in too fast.  I didn’t even know that was possible.  It was wonderful to finally see some authentic Australian wildlife.  I was pleased.

After dinner we walked around the beach for a little and looked at the stars.  They really are so much more visible here as opposed to in Long Island’s night sky.

We retired to our LUXURIOUS beds (I need to stop being so sarcastic), and actually fell asleep insanely early because we were tired from waking up before most roosters even considered it.

Sunday was entirely dedicated to surfing.  I’m proud to say, even though I’m tooting my own horn a little, I did really well.  The waves aren’t the same as what I’m used to, but I adjusted and surfed the whole day.

The next morning we had to wake up at 6am again and traveled back home.

I got back to the Student Village and crawled straight into bed.  I was living in exhaustion city.  But this weekend was so worth it.

Peace and love and happiness.

That was my grandmother’s name, and just now was the first time I’ve written about her in the past tense.

 She passed away four days ago on March 13th, in a hospital on Long Island, surrounded by her husband, daughters and one of her grandsons. They held her hands and told her they loved her until she stopped breathing and silence gave her its peace.

It was expected. She was old, 82.  Her body was frail from various ailments and her mind from dementia, but knowing someone is going to die before they actually do doesn’t make it any easier when it happens. My mom thought she was ready to say goodbye to her mother. I think everyone did. But we both agreed we were wrong.

I found out in an email from my mom (after several failed attempts to call me) that said “Grandma went to heaven today,” and without even finishing the rest of the email, without my head even registering it, my chest tightened and I burst into the hardest cry I’ve experienced in years.

It was the first time since coming to Australia that I really wanted to be home, that I really wanted to hug my parents and be able to deal with the unfamiliar in a familiar place. But there was no way, both financially and concerning timliness that I could have been home for the wake and funeral mass. I felt horrible. I wanted to be there for my mom, my aunts and uncles, my cousins and especially my grandfather. I felt guilty for a fleeting moment, then realized nothing could be done.

My grandparents had a story that pretty much parallels the movie The Notebook. They fell in love young, and after some setbacks (World War, Grandma’s mother) got married and had 9 children, my mom being the fourth eldest. Eventually they built and moved into the same house Pop lives in today, the site of my childhood memories of BBQ’s and swimming in the backyard and walking down the street to the St. James General Store with my cousins.  Throughout it all, my grandparents remained in love. Even in the past few years, when Grandma was slowly slipping away mentally, Pop would always go to her and talk to her or just sit by her side. I can hear Grandma’s raspy voice saying, “Lawrence, Lawrence” for no particular reason. I think she just needed to remind herself he was there.

Eileen Czaplyski had 9 children, 22 grandchildren and 3 great-grandchildren. But she had more than that. Someone said half of St. James showed up to her funeral mass.

Grandma’s going to be cremated, and when Pop passes away, he will too, and they’ll mix the ashes. Then we’re they’re together again, they’ll be spread over the place where they had their first kiss. I don’t even know what else to say.

 I googled my grandma’s name for an obituary, and came across something pretty astonishing. I don’t know who put it together or how all the information was compiled, but this web site not only has pictures of my grandparents in their younger days, but tracks all my relations back to Germany, where my grandma’s relatives immigrated from. I felt like I was looking at a stranger when I saw younger pictures of my Grandma, but I found one that shows her as I remember her: plump, rosy-cheeked and brightly dressed, surrounded by her sisters (wig held expertly in place with a headband).

She’s on the right.

I didn’t bargain for getting this emotional on such a hot day. (It’s been over 100 degrees here for the past 5 days.) I guess I just wanted to show anyone thinking about coming here that you have to be prepared for things to change while you’re away. People will change, and some might not be there when you get back. But you have to do your best to be okay: let it out when you need to, and talk to friends. I know talking with my mom and my friends here after I found out was better than crying in my room alone, even though I needed to at first.

If any of my relatives are reading this right now, know that I’m sending my love from over 10,000 miles away. You should feel it soon.

Unfortunately, this past weekend when my fellow Americans (excluding Eva who was still in the hospital) went on a trip to the gorgeous Great Ocean Road, I stayed behind at the Student Village to do homework.

However, I really feel as if this unfortunate situation turned out to be OK. Maybe it’s my disgusting tendency to be optimistic no matter what, but I really accomplished a lot.

On Saturday it turned out to be really lucky that I didn’t go on the trip, because Eva was FINALLY getting her surgery. I was able to be there for her when she was waking up from her post-surgery-drug-induced-slumber. I think it’s so important to know your friends have your back, especially when your family is 30-something hours away. When Nathan, Liam and I showed up, the nurse asked if we were Eva’s family. I told her we were the closest to it at the moment. We stayed at the hospital for a little while after Eva’s surgery, but she needed to get to sleep so we went back to the Student Village and hung out for a little. A couple of hours later, Eva was awake and starving (the hospital kept putting off her surgery, and you’re not allowed to eat something like 24 hours before surgery, so she hadn’t eaten in a very long time). Liam and I went back to the hospital after visiting hours and somehow managed to sneak in McDonald’s. I don’t even have a cool, 007 style story about how we managed that. It just worked out. Eva was finally able to eat, and I felt like a good person for the day.

Sunday was dedicated to work — kind of. After waking up late, going to the movies (Sydney White might be a chick flick, but it was so good), and buying the new Jack Johnson CD, I finally set up a study session with my Canadian friends. I was able to finish a psychology essay and read for a few classes, with only a few, short breaks to talk to my irresistibly awesome friends.

Then later on, a bunch of people were playing night volleyball, and I received a text message from my friend to come join. We all hung out and talked until quiet hours began.

It was strangely refreshing to know that I could have a good time, even if my American friends were having an even better time camping at the beach.

I’m going to leave you with some photos I recently took of Melbourne.
Peace & Love.

Since I’ve been here, I’ve been in a constant state of awareness that I will never get to experience Australia again the way I am right now. If I’m lucky enough to come back, it will be post college, a time period I have to admit I have a lot of uncertainties about. I won’t be as free, as unrestrained and as young (in every sense that word entails) that I am now, and because of that, my entire body has been tingling with the sensation of living it up here as much as possible. I know it’s a good idea for me to be aware of the passage of my time here, but it became exhausting. If I found myself day dreaming in class or on the bus, I felt guilty for not having spent that few moments soaking Australia in. (Even though, let’s get real, I’m on a bus. It’s not that exciting.) So I came to the realization that it’s okay to switch the “live it up” mode off for some time each day, and just enjoy life here as I would at home sometimes. But then I went to the Great Ocean Road.

I’ve never been camping before. I’ve slept in a tent in my backyard and on a beach for a night, but I’ve never done the whole middle of nowhere-no bathrooms-no electricity-no problems kind of camping. So when my friend Ahmit told me he was getting a group together to do just that, I pounced on the opportunity. So did Tracy, Casey and a bunch of other international students. In all we had four rental cars, making the grand total of 20 people.

We left on Saturday morning, later than we wanted to but still early enough to fill the day. I was in a car with my Aussie buds Scott and Westy and two girls I had met five minutes prior. We took off listening to Scott’s techno CD. Totally full of energy. But after sitting in traffic for a half an hour or so, the electricity began to fizzle. Scott, being a local, knew a great place to stop and rest before we really got underway on the winding, cliffside route. Our first stop was Jin Juac beach in Torquay. It was cloudy when we first arrived, but as the sun cleared I became completely enraptured by the azure water, brown sugar sand and towering cliffs. I had to take a swim, even though my bathing suit was packed in another car that hadn’t stopped with us. The soggy clothes and all around wet rat feeling I had when I got back in the car was worth it; the water was so refreshing. Normally on long car rides I’m always so anxious to get to my destination that I don’t take the time to look around the area I’m zooming past, but the Great Ocean Road doesn’t allow any of its travellers that luxury. The drive is the definition of scenic: green, fertile clumps of trees on your right, the vast expanse of a blue ocean frothing with the foam of crashing waves on your right. How could you be wishing the time would pass any quicker with that view?

Eventually, we met up with the group at Apollo Bay, another beach town. Glad to be out of the car, we threw ourselves on the sand for a while, but as it was getting on evening, we decided we needed to get to the camp site before all light had faded and we were left (literally) in the dark. Following Ahmit’s direction, we turned off the main road onto a dusty dirt path surrounded by Jurassic Park-like trees. And guess who the inhabitants of those trees were? Koalas. Finally, an animal native to Australia that wasn’t a hissing possum (that made me run through the courtyard at night like a little girl.) They’re so lazy, most of them were sleeping. Maybe it’s their faces, but the ones who were awake seemed to look down at us with disdain, like “Why are you taking pictures of me? I’m not even doing anything.”

The first camp site we got to was jam-packed, and without reserving a spot we were just a bunch of kids in cars in the middle of nowhere. Talk about blessings in disguise, though. Instead of a tiny camping spot filled with other travellers, after driving a short distance we came across a really remote, really perfect spot. It was a five minute trek down a rocky path to the coast, where we found a grassy clearing that was calling our name. At first we weren’t sure if we legally allowed to camp there, but we took the gamble. (Turns out we were.) As Casey and I were walking back to the car to grab all the equipment, we both decided the rocky cliffs, lighthouse and verdant hills reminded us of Ireland rather than Australia, even though neither of us have ever been. 

Like I said before, I’ve never really been camping. Hence, I’ve never pitched a tent, so I was super-adamant about Tracy capturing the process on my camera. But because I was so obsessed with posing for pictures, I didn’t actually help put up the tent…at all. I turned around and my friends Scott and Chris had done it for us in all of three minutes.

After setting up, we cooked up some food and had a few drinks as the sky darkened and became speckled with stars. In a few hour’s time, I couldn’t see more than four feet in front of me without the use of a lantern (which we eventually turned off in favour of the solar system’s light.) I’ve never seen that many stars, and I’ll never forget how the sky looked. We could see the Milky Way, a stream of creamy white light speckled with stars. Someone pointed out Orion, who because of our location, looked like he was doing cartwheels across the sky rather than standing at attention like he does at home. I stated my intention of staying up to watch the sunrise, which was echoed by a few others, but actually fell asleep quite early only to wake up to bright sunlight and a stuffy tent. It was around eight a.m, and low tide. We ventured down to the beach in groups of two or three to check out jagged terrain of the rocks and the roaring, sporadic crashing of waves upon them, and found a ton of life to explore within crevices and cracks. I saw starfish, red and purple, suctioned to rocks, waiting for high tide to come hydrate them and little groups of what I thought were baby oysters or clams that looked as though they had been left there overnight.

After a really delicious brekky of sausages (which I don’t eat at home but here I find scrumptious), we packed up camp with the intention of continuing on to the 12 Apostles. One car opted for going home, one opted for making the day trip to the Apostles and two car fulls wanted to stay and camp another night. After deliberating upon the fact that we may not have the opportunity again, Tracy, Casey and I remained behind with the boys to camp another night.When we got the Apostles, the sun was high in the sky and blaring down on us with almost evil intent. It was easily over 100 degrees and arid as a desert. Even so, I got goose bumps standing before the Apostles…multiple times. I’ve seen some wonders of nature before, like the huge Redwood trees of California and the treetop rainforests of Mexico, but the fact that the Apostles, being in constant attack from the sea, have the potential to disappear made them seem almost fleeting and more special.

Because of the heat, we all agreed we needed to get in the water–badly. Ahmit knew of a gorge a few minutes drive, so we headed there.  It was a sheltered swimming area where waves came in through a small opening in the cliffs. Seeing the water was like an oasis, and a bunch of us sprinted to the water only to find it absolutely, numbingly frigid. (The waters are circulated in from the ocean above Antartica, which I didn’t know at the time.) Still, it was worth it. We spent a few hours there, swimming, sunning and swatting away the pesky flies that inhabited the area.

The group split off again, and only two cars continued on to find camp: Me, Tracy, Casey and Chris from America, Alejandro from Mexico, Jonas from Norway, Johan from Sweden, Ahmit and Anshu from India, and Shiv from Malaysia. The first site we came to was really depressing; right off the main street of shops and cafes was a trailer park-like campground, chock full of neat little campers and tents. No scenic views, no adventurous atmosphere, and it had a place to shower. We all took a look around, pronounced it to be far too civilized for us, and headed back to the spot we had found the day before. After a feast of sausages, baked beans and chilli, we again took in the stars on our backs, listening to Swedish rock music and talking. Six countries and four different religions made for the most unpretentious, honest discussion I’ve ever had concerning both religion and politics, and I went to sleep that night humbled by both the stars and the company. The next day was hotter than the day before, and none of us could sleep later than nine. We packed up, made the trek up the hill and decided to stop at Torquay for swimming and sun bathing before heading back to the Village. Being that it was Australia’s Labor Day, the beach was absolutely swamped with people. The fact that it was high tide didn’t help–there wasn’t even space to lay a towel.

So we headed back to Jin Juac beach, where we all just chilled out. I went swimming for an hour or so by myself (don’t worry Mom, there was other people in the water) and just enjoyed jumping over and ducking under waves like I’ve done at Robert Moses beach since I was young. But because of my acute awareness that I needed to take it all in, I recognized it as more special than just swimming; I was swimming in Australian waves, looking up at a cloudless Australian sky, after what I even now understand was one of the best weekends I’ve ever had in my life. And I’ve had some pretty good weekends.

Back at school now, still discussing Jane Austen. Eva finally returned home from the hospital, and she’s recuperating with a cast and some crutches. Seeing her leg propped up on a pillow breaks my heart, and I always feel that no matter what I say to make her feel better doesn’t change the fact that her leg is buried under a mound of plaster, not free to take her where she really wanted to go in this country. This weekend I’m planning to get into the city and go to a club or two with some friends, then hit up the open air Victoria market to hunt for some souvenirs and gifts for all the people I miss so dearly. And I say that without the slightest bit of humour. Being away, having adventures and meeting so many new people really makes you appreciate where you’ve come from and who you’ve left behind. Time for class. Ta ta to all.

I had been thinking of seriously getting a tattoo for over a year, and had discussed it with a friend here that also had wanted to get a symbol for balance and equilibrium for over 2 years. I had already been to a consultation at Bonpland St, a kind of mini-mall that’s filled with different tattoo shops. I went when other friends of mine got tattoos a couple of months ago, but I didn’t like the drawing the tattoo artist did, so I ended up not having it done. But as of last week, I officially had it done! I went with the friend, and we both got all black designs, both discreet and small-ish, and we’re both really happy with how they turned out. It’s a little scary getting something so permanent done, especially when you have to explain what you want in a language that’s not your own, but overall it went really well. 20 minutes and it was over. The only problem now is the itching! I can’t wait for that to be over, it’s been driving me crazy. The only thing you can do is put on lotion, scratching it is forbidden. Hopefully with another week I’ll be doing good.

Switched to a new gym here, Megatlon. They have a Nike Rockstar Workout that I really hope I can find once I’m back in the States. It’s going to be so weird to go to classes in English that don’t blast Electronica music.

I really like working at Hard Rock. It’s a lot easier to wait on people here than at home, everyone is a lot less demanding, there’s no constant refilling of the drinks, and in general, a lot less guess-work. If someone wants something, they flag you over. You don’t have to guess if they want the check, or something else to eat, they’ll let you know. The tips are less, both in that Argentine’s don’t believe in tipping much, and the dollar is worth less, but it’s still a fun place to work. Last night one of my work friends was giving me a lesson on Spanish slang. Complete with pictures and situations where you would use the word. Needless to say, very entertaining. “Quilombo” essentially means disorder, but the explanation I got was “when you walk into work and you have to take 10 tables, Flor and Lili (waitresses) are dancing on the bar, and Ramon (the barman) is playing the guitar.” Not only do I get paid, I also get free classes! Que bueno!

I couldn’t narrow my thoughts down to what I’d like to write about, so I surveyed my fellow Americans.

Tracy felt that I should update about fruit cups and mayonnaise. At first I wasn’t sure how to feel about that. Upon further consideration, and whilst consuming sweet chilli and sour cream Doritos (not available in America — YET!), she also expressed that we constantly eat here. This sentiment, unfortunately, is true. Once we got around to going hardcore food shopping, we were able to stop living off of rice cakes and water. Although those items still hold a special place in our hearts and our food pantries, we’ve moved on to more complete meals such as pasta, chicken, and quesadillas. Because those are gourmet meals.

In addition, Tracy thought it important to include a blurb about our recent fascination with Britney Spears.

“Britney Spears! We have a newfound/re-found obsession with K-Fed’s ex baby mama. We feel the need to listen to her constantly, as well as discuss her downfall/media frenzy. Current track — Piece of Me. Listen to it.”

That is, in fact, a direct quote.

But seriously, since I’m a journalism/public relations major, I’m taking two communications and media courses here. And a constant subject of conversation in these classes is that of American cultural imperialism. One of my professors even went as far to say that I probably feel at home here in Australia, because everything is American. It’s somewhat true; I’ve definitely heard more Britney Spears on the radio in the past few weeks here than my entire life in the United States.
The popular magazines follow the lives of American celebrities, not Australian celebrities.
McDonald’s is a popular place to hang out.
Target and Walmart (called the “Big W” here) are major assets to the local mall.
Every movie I’ve watched with my Australian friends has been American made.
It’s actually crazy to think about how powerful these people and companies are.

Jump to me surveying my friends again. When asked what she felt I should update on, Casey expressed interest in all the touristy things in Melbourne that we haven’t even gotten around to yet. We’ve been so busy with “O-Week”, an introduction to the campus and the people who live here, that we haven’t been able to be proper, nerdy tourists with fanny packs around our waists and digital cameras in our hands. I know, the imagery in that sentence is astounding.

Speaking of O-Week, there have been several events recently at the Student Village. We had a beach party, a scavenger hunt (in which I couldn’t participate because of my stomach’s temporary death, as previously noted), a toga party, a school uniform party, etc. These activities have been so fun, but I’m really looking forward to spring break, when I’ll actually have the opportunity to travel, surf, and SEE Australia.

For spring break, we’re planning on flying up to the Gold Coast, which is a more tropical region of Australia, and staying there for 6 nights. Then, instead of flying straight back to Melbourne, we’re stopping at Sydney along the way. We’re going to spend 5 nights in Sydney, with a grand total of 11 nights. I’m truly thrilled for this trip; I feel like up until this point we’ve spent so much time adjusting to our new environment. I want to go out and explore now. Additionally, my 21st birthday is on March 23, which HAPPENS to fall on our second night at the Gold Coast. Although it will be Easter Sunday, I know we’ll do something fun and exciting.

As outlined in detail on Katie’s blog, our friend Eva unfortunately injured herself earlier this week. She’s in the hospital right now, and needs surgery on her foot. It’s a really terrible situation, but honestly, and I’m not just saying this because her mom may read this entry, Eva is a trooper. She’s strong and definitely is handling the situation so well. She’s had a string of bad luck while here (see: “I’m a New Soul in this Very Strange World.“) We’re all really proud of her for hanging in there, and hopefully she’ll be back to the Student Village soon so we can shower her in love and happiness and foot rests.

Thanks to my friends and their superior ideas on what to write about, I’d have to say this has been a fairly decent entry. Now I’m going to go do the work I may or may not have been putting off all week.

Peace, love, and stay classy, America.

I was planning on updating my blog last night, but something pretty awful happened that deterred me until today. Last night Eva, one of the New Paltz students who also travelled to Australia, broke her ankle while playing around on a skateboard. I’m pretty sure Eva knew it was broken when she fell; she heard the dreaded pop. But after a few hours in the hospital, it was confirmed she’s going to need surgery. She doesn’t really have another choice–it’s either surgery or developing authritis that will only get progressively worse. So she’s overnight in the hospital for a few nights until the orthopedic surgeons can work on her.

 Saying I feel bad for Eva doesn’t sum it up. I feel AWFUL. She’s had horrible luck since the moment we stepped off the plane (missing luggage, losing credit cards), and now this. But through it all she’s been a trooper in every sense of the word. I really think her good attitude is what will save her Australian experience.

To Eva’s friends and especially her parents: don’t fret! She has a ton of friends here, and we’re all going to take amazing care of her.  I promise. Someone has been with her in the hospital since she arrived yesterday, and I’m sure she’ll have a steady flow of visitors until she’s back in the Village. And you know Eva, she’ll make it through smiling.

 Besides that, life has been pretty easy going and normal here in Australia. The first week of school was a little hectic, but no more so than first week at New Paltz. Same hectic lines in the bookstore, same tired office workers yawning at the endless lines of students who all want their paperwork taken care of ASAP. My classes are going to be interesting for the most part. I’m reading eight novels over the course of ten weeks–four contemporary and four…not so much. (Jane Austen is the biggest drag.) I’m also taking Writing Selves, during which I’ll be studying (and writing!) autobiography. When my teacher asked what biographies we’ve read, all I could think of was Dirt, which is a collective memoir written by the members of Motley Crue. Incidentally, it was really good, but my self consciousness at being the “dumb American” prevented me from raising my hand and offering that info. Other than that, I haven’t had any trouble speaking up in class. Heads usually turn at the subtle Lawng Island twang, but my classmates and teachers usually find it really exciting that I’m from New York. It’s kind of fun if you like attention (which I do, thank you very much).

Every time we go out to a party or a pub, they play the funniest music. I’m talking stuff I haven’t heard since ‘98. Old enough to be a throwback, but not old enough for me to forget the words, mind you. Screaming the words to “I’m Blue (Da Ba di something or other)” is entertainment at its finest.

Brandon, Tracy, Casey and I, along with our Aussie friend Liam, planned mid semester break the other day. We have off for 20+ days in a few weeks, so we’re going to fly up to the Gold Coast, explore that for five days, then fly down to Sydney for about six. Eva was supposed to come as well, but she will be on crutches until late April, so I don’t think she’d be able to get around without physically and emotionally exhausting herself. Again, we’re all unimaginably bummed about it, but this is the only opportunity the rest of us have to see the rest of Australia. I don’t know exactly what we’re going to be doing there, but It’ll be my first time staying in a hostel! Regardless of the experience, I’m definitely going to consider myself more wordly after that. But you have to be so, SO careful when staying in hostels; my friend who’s studying in New Zealand left her door open for about five minutes and her wallet, passport and camera were all knicked. Maybe it’s time to invest in a rad new fannypack. Yes? No?

 Oh! This weekend a bunch of people are planning to hire (rent) a few cars to road trip and camp out on the Great Ocean Road. It’s about three hours from where I am now, and I’ve heard even the drive is breathtakingly gorgeous. I’m getting goosebumps thinking about how many stars I’m going to be seeing. Or maybe it’s the AC in the library? Either way, I’m beyond excited. There’s a  landmark called the 12 Apostles that we’re going to see too. There’s not 12 anymore due to errosion, but it’s a bunch of huge stones that stand right at the shore of a beautiful beach. I’m so excited–this is one of the things I had wanted to do, but wasn’t sure how I’d get there. Koalas ahoy?! Let’s hope so.

I have to get to my reading. Mr. Darcy and his pride and Elizabeth and her prejudice are calling my name. Cheers!

This last week my mom was here visiting from NY. Being with anyone for a week straight is challenging, but thankfully we managed not to kill each other. We decided to stay in BsAs for 3 days, and do the whole tango show, trip to Boca, artisan fair circuit, and then travel to Mendoza for the wine tours and a little outdoor adventure. Normally traveling on a budget, I’ve gotten used to turning a blind eye to some of the unpleasant things which go along with hostels. However, when you can afford to upgrade, a hotel can be a pleasant change..which is what happened after we left the Mendoza hostel I had reserved after my mom had one look at the shared bathroom. But it all worked out in the end; we were able to book all the excursions and activities through the hostel, but stay in the cleanliness and privacy of the hotel!

The only downside was that even though the activities were supposedly with an English guide, except for the final day, everything was in Spanish. Which meant a half-hearted translation effort on my part, and an increasingly frustrated mother. It’s hard when your traveling companion can’t speak the language. I really enjoyed the activities, we did a day of rafting through the muddy brown rapids, mountain biking, 4×4 rides, biking in between bodega wine tours, and a tour of 3 bodegas that included a 2hr lunch! I was sick for the final tour, but from the pictures I later saw, it looked very impressive. All in all, it was a really nice trip. Mendoza is beautiful, and I would definitely recommend about a 4 day visit.

I’d love to go to Brazil again before my visa expires, but I’m running out of time. I had originally planned leaving for Florianapolis the 20th, but I just saw that it expires the 18th so looks like I need to do some re-planning. It’s nice to be able to think about traveling again. After the 3 week journey in Dec-Jan, I thought there was no way I’d be able to escape the ultra budget lifestyle. Thanks to 40 hr work weeks at Hard Rock though, I’ve been doing better. Well, financially at least. A nice feeling of exhaustion has been slowly setting in, I think asking for less hours would be a smart move.

Dinner reservations tonight at the new Indian restaurant around the corner. Very excited for a night off from work and the prospect of delicious food!