Pits, Drains & H2O

Before I delve into the main themes of this entry, let’s discuss something that’s also sort of important – my first day of work (that wasn’t temp stuff)!!!

I started at HSBC today at 9 am. I am a Retail Alliance Services Officer or Consultant or Associate or something like that. I just listened in on the calls today, and tried to learn as much as I could. The woman training me was really great, and gave me a whole binder full of useful stuff that wasn’t included in my training packet. It will take some getting used to though. They use tons of different programs for different things, and it IS a hardcore call center. The phone doesn’t even ring. Your headset beeps and you’re on the phone with someone instantly. No ringing. No warning. BEEP and then you have to immediately launch into your “Thank you for calling HSBC etc…”. Yikes! My first couple of days doing it solo are going to be super scary, but I think Bernstein actually kind of gave me the confidence that I will be able to sort this all out and will be at least moderately OK at it after I couple of weeks. I’ll even have my own work email! And it will be a sexy Aussie one, that ends in .com.au! I look forward to that indeed.

Now, the themed portion of our entry:

1)   Pits

Now by pits, I don’t mean the ones you’d find inside a peach, or the ones that plague motorists on poorly maintained roads. I mean the important kind. The GOOD kind. The kind filled with giant foam blocks, enabling people with limited skill levels to fall on their heads and harmlessly bounce right back out again in one piece. That’s right, I found myself a new gymnastics home for the next couple of months!

I actually tried two gyms. When I first started to seriously consider this whole let’s-move-to-Australia thing, naturally I had to first google the important things that are essential to a happy, well-rounded existence. One of those things was obviously soup dumplings, and the second was gymnastics for grown ups. When I first googled adult gym in Sydney, the Epping YMCA was the first place that popped up. I read all about it, and checked it out on a map. I’ve had this Epping place in my head for months, so I was really excited to finally go! It was a nice enough gym, with a good-sized pit for flipping and flinging, and the instructor was really good and friendly, but the commute was not ok. It involved two trains, and a total of about 35 minutes of walking. It took me almost two hours to get there. Granted I did get a bit lost (turns out the Epping YMCA isn’t a building, it’s a damn CAMPUS. Finding my way in the pitch back and the rain was not easy), but even without the getting lost, it was still far. Think living in Coney Island and schlepping up to a gym in the Bronx. Now throw in the 35 minutes total of walking to the stations, and then throw in sh*tty trains that don’t run very often and are slightly to moderately sketchy at night.

As a result of my lack of love for gym #1, I did further googling and discovered another place that was on the right side of Sydney for me (remember, Sydney has a giant harbor right smack in the middle of it), and enabled me to only take busses. I checked that out Friday night. Good pit, good instructors, MUCH better commute (50 minutes, with only about 5-7 minutes of walking!) and even slightly cheaper. YAY!!!

2)   Drains

I got a phone call late in the day on Tuesday from one of the 456 temp agencies that I signed up with, with a temp job offer for 2 days. Seeing as I had only submitted my HSBC background check that morning (I won’t bother you with all the disastrous details on trying to get that taken care of. I ended up having to pay $1 a page to scan things to them last minute. I was not pleased with that.) I was thrilled with the work. I was told it was a data entry job working for a company called Aquabocci. The job was based at the guy’s home office, and I was told that it would be necessary to work independently, as the guy was frequently in and out. No worries, said I.

I was curious to figure out what the company did, with that name. Aquabocci. Italian seafood perhaps?

www.aquabocci.com

Yeah. Drains. They sell drains. Can you get less interesting than that? Try to think of something less interesting. Go ahead. Try. I dare you.

Naturally I showed up a good deal early for my first morning at the drain man’s home office. He, on the other hand, was 25 minutes late. It was very confusing to ring the bell at my “job” and have no one answer. I started to question my own sanity. Did I make up the job details? Did I hallucinate the phone call? Did I get the day wrong? Was this not the right address? Very stressful.

I basically helped him with his marketing campaign, entering email addresses into a system that sends out email blasts and then tracks the percentage of how many emails are viewed and such. I also made a TON of phone calls, to pool places and architectural firms all over New South Wales and Victoria (that’s the state that is south of here – it’s where Melbourne is), confirming their contact details so that we could send them samples of lineal grates – more commonly known as strip drains. It was moderately stressful. I don’t know if you all know this about me or not, but I actually don’t know SQUAT about drains. Now some places just confirmed/updated their details and were done with it, but some asked for more information. And what am I going to say?

Me: We’d like to update your contact information, so that we can send you a free sample of our strip drains.

Pool Place: Your what?

Me: Strip drains? Also know as lineal grates. They are used in swimming pools.

Pool Place: What? I don’t understand.

Me: Drains. In pools? Where the water goes out?

Yeah, some of those conversations got a little awkward J

That apartment/home office was really quite sexy though. Very sparsely furnished, with the exception of boxes and boxes or drains all over the place, but the location was superb. The guy, Anthony, must have some serious dough. The place was in a nice, secluded neighborhood, and overlooked the Sydney harbour bridge, the opera house, the city skyline and the harbor itself. VERY swank. And the agency was right, he was out a lot. A good chunk of the time it was just me, alone in the drain man’s house, making phone calls and wrapping up lineal grate samples like Christmas presents. I know I haven’t had a whole lot of jobs yet, as I am only 26, but I do think there is a good chance that the Aquabooci 2 day role, which luckily for me turned into a 3 day role, might end up being the randomest job I ever have. I wish Anthony luck though. If I ever move to NSW or VIC and install a pool, I’ll definitely give him a buzz to buy some lineal grates.

3)   H2O

I’ll start with the happy water section: the BEACH

That’s me at the famous Bondi Beach! The water wasn’t too cold, and it actually turned into a really nice day. Cheryl and I went down there and then ended up walking a little over 6 miles along the coastline and cliffs down to Coogee Beach. Here’s me on a cliff:

And here’s a pic of me surfing:

Haha, j/k! Did anyone out there buy it? Even for like, a quarter of a second? No? Oh. Okay. Nevermind then.

Anyway, the walk was gorgeous. The cliffs are amazing, and you can walk right up to the edge and look down to the ocean slamming the rocks below. There are also tons of man-made saltwater pools built into the rocks, which look amazing. Once it warms up, I’ll have to go for a dip. I am considering taking a short winter surf lesson. It’s cheaper to do it in the winter, and they do give you a wetsuit and all. Although I’d like to go on a surf trip at some point down the road, I think I’d like to take my first lesson at Bondi. Just so I can say that I first learned (or attempted to learn) how to surf at Bondi Beach in Sydney.

Now for the sad water section:

From the time I schlepped up to Epping (Tuesday night) until this past Saturday morning, it rained. Now I don’t mean that it rained every day for a bit. I mean it RAINED. Nonstop. For days. It was like a freakin’ monsoon, I’ve never seen anything like it. It just didn’t stop. Never stopped. Rain rain rain. All day every day. The locals say that sort of unending deluge isn’t normal, but I don’t know that I believe them. That was an awful lot of rain. Ducky Q. Ferdinand (um, that’s my umbrella’s name) got a lot of exercise this past week.

Random thoughts/additional things to mention:

I came home Wednesday night and the top bunk was stripped. No more sheets. Obviously someone from the office had been here. But why did they strip the bed? Was someone moving in? When? Will she be worse than Helena? I can’t take the pressure, out with it already! I heard from the German guy who moved in last week that a girl was touring the apartment late last week. Is she moving in? What is she like? When is she coming??????? When is my last night of solitude, so that I can adequately mentally and emotionally prepare? It’s Monday night. I’m still alone. Every night could be the last night. This is no way to live man, it’s just no way to live.

I did nothing interesting this weekend. I was, however, quiet the portrait of domesticity. I shopped. I bought chicken breast in bulk and then sliced it all up in individual sized portions and froze it. I stocked up on veggies, sauces and whatnot. I bought myself a nice bottle of white wine and some fresh seafood to cook for Saturday night. I then marched right back to the store, after discovering that the house has no corkscrew to open the wine with. I then went to open the wine after cooking my dinner, only to realize that it was a simple screw top, and no corkscrew was needed. I did laundry. I vacuumed. I cleaned the bathroom counter. I windexed the windows and mirrors. I ironed. Hell, I even mopped. I don’t think I’ve ever mopped in my life. This weekend I am SO going on a tour of something. Anything. I am quite happy that the room is now clean to my standards, but I did not travel 10,000 miles to Australia to mop and vacuum.

The British girl who lives here says that sometimes the people at her job have a hard time understanding her accent. I dunno man, the Brits and Aussies all sound the freakin’ same to me.

I missed Shawn Johnson’s comeback performance at the Cover Girl Classic because Universal Sports’ live web feed doesn’t work outside of the U.S. What does this have to do with Australia? Absolutely nothing, I was just really peeved about it. So now you know about it too.

5 other people started with me in my department at HSBC. They are all Scottish or Irish. I am the lone Americano!

My funky cell phone doesn’t have a true silent mode, as far as I can tell. It only has vibrate or the ringer, so when I need it to completely and 100% shut up, I have to turn it off. When I turn it off, there is a recording of some Australian guy in a heavy accent, and he yells at me. I don’t know what he is saying, but he is definitely yelling at me for turning off the phone. It’s quite bizarre.

Here is a picture of my room! The curtains are covering the doors to the balcony, and the bathroom is sort of behind me.

I have obviously taken lots of other pictures, which will be posted to facebook soon. Make sure we’re friends, so you can see them when I post them!

I work Monday through Friday this week, and then I start my Thursday through Monday shift. It’ll have 5 days off! What to do, what to do…

Koalas, Kangaroos, and the End of the Ramen Noodle Era

Attention world, I’ve met both of my main goals for the week! Not only am I currently living a blissfully ghost-less (and more importantly, roommate-less) existence, but I am also employed! Or at least I will be soon. I can afford actual food now…I’m pretty pumped!

My roommate Helena moved out Monday morning. It was only 4 days, but watching her and her dim-witted friend pack up their things and leave my life forever ranked somewhere amongst the top 5 happiest moments of my life. Worst. Roommate. Ever. That terrible girl had every quality on the checklist of bad roommate qualities, except for the fact that she never went through my things. How do I know this? Everything was always exactly as I left it when I came back to the room – and trust me, had that foolish child explored any of my belongings while I was out, she would not have been bright enough to cover her tracks. Goodbye Helena - and more importantly - good riddance.

I’ve been alone since then in the room. I have my own private bathroom, my own queen size bed with 4 pillows, my own TV that gets about 5 (albeit grainy) channels, and my own private balcony. Granted, this newfound freedom is entirely day to day – someone could come tour the place at any given moment and move in – but it is winter, and the rental office said that things have been slow, so perhaps lady luck will smile down upon me, and I’ll be able to squeeze out a few more days of blessed solitude…

Last Monday was also my first actual job (as opposed to meeting with an agency) interview. It was for a telemarketing company. The job seemed awful: calling people all day long and asking them to donate even more money to causes they already donate to. The pay was pretty awful by Australian standards, and the hours weren’t great, but they accepted me. How on earth I ever managed to convince anyone that I would make a good telemarketer, I don’t know; perhaps I should be an actress? I did mull the offer over for a few hours. It seemed like sort of a gamble to turn down an offer for full time employment when one is in desperate need of said employment, but gamble I did and I told them no. The next morning I woke up and spent hours and hours on job websites applying to everything I could find that seemed decent. I lost count of the number of cover letters I wrote, but about 48 hours later I had a job! Woot woot!

So, as it turns out, I quit my finance job and moved 10,000 miles away… to take another finance job. O, the irony! What on earth am I doing, you may ask? Excellent question. Two weeks ago I may have just stared at you blankly and offered you a cookie in lieu of a real response, but my 1-year Australia plan has gone from a series of I don’t knows and I’ll figure it outs to something that is potentially approaching a vague outline of a pseudo-plan.

I’m aiming to stay in Sydney now for somewhere in the 3-4 month range. At this point, I don’t actually care about the job. I simply want to be able to make and save money, have weekends to explore the city and do the tourist stuff in the area, and take advantage of the city’s resources for planning the next stages.  The job manager at the Work & Holiday office can place people in jobs outside of the city as well, so I’d like the next working phase to be about the job, not about the specific area. Wherever something fun, hopefully one of those you-can-only-do-this-in-Australia type jobs pops up, that’s where I’ll go. Plus there are some interesting farm work exchange programs and fruit picking jobs and cattle ranch courses that you can take, so I’d like to squeeze some of that in as well. And the end? T-R-A-V-E-L. That’s where my Sydney finance job will have come in handy. Granted I won’t be staying in 5 star hotels and dining at top-notch restaurants, but running around for weeks on end won’t come cheap! So now I do have a vague outline of a plan. Needless to say this is all subject to change, but that’s what I’m plotting for the moment. City job-fun job(s)-run around.

Yes, yes, I know, I have yet to define this fancy employment of mine. I’ll be working at HSBC doing…something. Honestly, when I interviewed for position, I did actually comprehend my role when it was explained to me. I just sort of forgot immediately after I left. I’m sure I’ll figure it out again though. Basically, it's call-center work dealing with application status questions. I can’t start as soon as I’d like unfortunately, since the bank does background checks. Hopefully I’ll be able to start in about a week. The job is a 9-week role, with the potential to possibly extend for a week or two at the end, depending on how well I do and if they still need the extra help. The great thing about the role is that instead of Monday through Friday, it’ll be Thursday through Monday. Apparently banks (at least Australian ones) pay time and a half on Saturdays, and double time on Sundays! So I’m really happy about the pay, and the commute is really easy. The job is right in the heart of the “CBD” or central business district. It’s right smack in the middle of Sydney’s downtown. Perfect! That’ll leave me with Tuesdays & Wednesdays to explore and be a tourist. Plus local attractions are less likely to be crowded in the middle of the week anyway.

So although the HSBC gig is the main event here in terms of jobs, I’ve already worked my first day in Australia. I woke up Friday morning to my first actual job offer from one of the 875 temp agencies I registered with (and THANK YOU again to those who have diligently provided reference requests for me…over and over again….). The temp job was a one-day deal only. I went from phone call in bed to the reception desk at KU Children’s services in a little over an hour. It’s really sort of strange answering the phones for an establishment when you have NO idea what on earth it is that they actually….do. I had no time to google it before I left, and all I was provided with by the agency was the address, company name, and person to ask for. Apparently it’s some sort of not for profit that runs free Kindergartens and preschool programs for kids all over the eastern part of Australia. I think. Most calls just needed to be transferred to the person they asked for, but I did get a few actual questions, which I had no idea what to do with. I kept fighting the urge to ask them if they’d just like me to instead send them a pre-filled IRA distribution form, or perhaps e-mail their accountant their tax package?

Today I did some fun stuff. Look at one of my new friends!!!!

And here is another new friend. Isn’t he cute??

Cheryl (the Canadian) and I went to Featherdale Animal Park, which is a small-ish zoo about an hour from Sydney’s CBD. If you’ve ever been to the Bronx Zoo (or any zoo, really…) you’ll know that it’s not uncommon to see peacocks randomly wandering around. I’m not sure why, but zoos always seem to have random peacocks. Guess who wanders around here? Kangaroos! They hop around everywhere, and you can pet them and feed them. Kangaroos REALLY love ice cream cones. The waffle cone kind. They go crazy for them, it’s like kangaroo cat-nip. They even fight each other for them:

I also obviously saw koalas, and also wombats (which look like the love child of a pig and a house cat – very cute though) and a wacky little Tasmanian devil.  The park was great. I’m glad we went. I’ve heard larger places charge crazy extra fees to pet the koalas, and I got to do it for free – twice!

Random thoughts:

I think I applied to somewhere in the neighborhood of 14 employment agencies. I heard back from more than half of them, without me even following up. I actually stopped returning messages at one point. I have too many on my plate as it is!

I did real cooking Saturday night. It involved meat and vegetables and rice and even a little teriyaki sauce. It was quite tasty.

Australian jobs all pay either an hourly rate or a salary plus “super.” Basically, I get an additional 9% paid on top of whatever my wage is that is put into a retirement account. Real Australians can’t use it until they hit retirement age, but apparently people like me who are only pretending to be Australian for a year can claim the funds once they have left Oz and gone back to wherever they came from. So I’ll have a nice chunk of change coming to me next summer that I wasn’t planning on. Nice! I started thinking about how I would allocate the money, and then I came up with a superb idea. An EPIC idea, actually (I’m talking to one of you out there in particular – you know who you are). Three cheers for Australia superannuation funds!  So I now have an Australian checking, savings, and even a retirement account all set up at my new bank. Very cool.

My cell phone keeps time, but doesn’t actually display it anywhere, which is incredibly stupid. I wear my “Cartier” watch everywhere now. It’s become a necessity. So Seth, if you ever read this, thanks again! That turned out to be an incredibly useful gift.

People keep telling me I have an accent. I ignored some kid on the street the other day, who was trying to get me to talk to him to give money to charity, and he told me that he liked my accent. I called my bank to set up my online access, and she asked me where I was from, because I had “a strong accent.” I called up some commercial dishwasher repair place (this was for the KU Children’s Services temp job) and the repair girl asked me where I was from “in the States” since I had the accent. I don’t think I’m ever going to be able convince these Australians that it is not I who has the wacky accent, so I’ve decided to just roll with it. Yes. Fine. I have the funny accent. Whatever… J

We finally figured out how to work the heat in the townhouse, so I no longer have to go through 7 cups of tea a night to keep warm. Apparently there is a button that we were neglecting to press.

I borrowed a vacuum from the rental office and sucked up the rock salt off the floor. It was NOT easy. So far though everything has been fine ghostly spirit wise, in case anyone was really concerned about that.

I caught a cold! It was thankfully either a 24 hour thing, or else I really did just murder it with all the cold pills and vitamin C that I knocked back. I was stifling coughs all day at the temp job. I was trying so hard not to be the terrible American temp who came in and spread her germs all over the place...

I wasn’t sure all week what the British boy’s name was, the one who offered me tea when I first got here. I knew that the other British guy’s name in the house was Tom. It turns out though, that this one’s name is also Tom. So maybe he did tell me his name in the very beginning, and I just got the two British guys confused? I think the other Tom was the one who helped me get my bags up the stairs. But I’m not really 100% sure about that either. Or maybe it’s just that every boy in England is named Tom?

I’ve locked myself out of my own private bathroom twice in the last 3 days. I have an Ivy League degree, but I keep locking myself out of the bathroom. I’m sure I’m doing Cornell proud on that front.

I tried Australian Xiao Long Bao – or, as they are more commonly known – soup dumplings! They were good, but they were tiny. Then I started to wonder if our soup dumplings at home are just giant because Americans like everything big? Our cars are bigger than everyone else’s, our homes are bigger, our portion sizes are bigger, and our people are certainly bigger. Perhaps our soup dumplings are just bigger too? Just food for thought. Ha! I cracked myself up a bit on that one.

Someone called me “mate” for the first time on Friday. It was really exciting.

Plans for this week are a little up in the air. I won’t be working yet, so I’m just going to keep my fingers crossed for a day or two of temp work. I’m heading out to the famous Bondi Beach tomorrow to check that area out. I also want to start researching all the tourist things I want to tackle in NSW (New South Wales – that’s my current state of residence!). Now that I’ve got the whole job thing figured out, I can finally relax and start to have a bit of fun.

 I leave you with this thought:

When I arrived at the Qantas terminal at JFK a little over 2 weeks ago, this was the advertisement that greeted me:

Do you think that’s a bad omen?

Gloves, Ghouls & G'day, Mate

What a week!

I’ve now officially been in Sydney for a full week, but today was the first day that I did anything touristy. Turns out that trying to set up a life in a new country is actually kind of time consuming – who knew?? Starting with orientation day though, I definitely accomplished something important each day, which is a good feeling. Still have a long way to go though. Here’s the recap:

Monday was orientation, which was very helpful. I felt sort of lost and overwhelmed last weekend, and the orientation session helped me to feel that I would eventually be able to get a handle on things. In the morning they covered the basics, and in the afternoon the job-help guy went over his presentation. I got my sim card with my new Australian cell phone number, my temporary tax ID and information about how to set up a bank account – all very important items.

There were 4 of us at the orientation: me, two German kids and a Canadian girl, who actually slept on the bottom bunk in the hostel with me – small world. We went out to lunch together in between the orientation sessions. The Canadian is in the midst of travelling around the world, with Australia being a long 8-month stop. The two Germans didn’t speak great English, and mainly seemed interested in talking to each other in German. The program center office is nice. They have free wifi and a travel desk and Patrick the job guy. My main complaint is the lack of restroom facilities. Before orientation started I inquired about the bathroom, and was told to go to McDonalds. Um…really? I will add that feedback in at some point. The program center is great. Lots of helpful people and information there. But a toilet would really be awesome.

So post-orientation, the goal was simple: get a phone.  Since there is SO much to tackle, I keep having to remind myself to go in baby steps, and take one task at a time. Monday’s task was to get a phone. I found a little store that sold unlocked phones to take my sim card, popped in the card, et voila! Dara had an Australian phone. Monday’s mission accomplished. I should also mention that this was July 4^th. I was quite sad to miss it, since it’s one of my favorite holidays. I think the hostel bar had some sort of July 4^th thing going on, where if you’re an American you could skip the line or something. I don’t know. I went to bed at 8.

Tuesdays mission: Get somewhere to live. I started looking at room share options on gumtree (their version of craigslist) but got quickly overwhelmed. I’ve never really solo apartment hunted before, and the whole process of calling all these different people and making arrangements to go all over the place to check everything out just seemed utterly exhausting. Plus I had yet to figure out mass transit around here. The only thing I knew about it at that point was that it was way too expensive to be tootling around all day long looking at a bunch of different apartments. I wanted something quick and relatively easy. I ended up calling a place whose website I had checked out back at home. They are a bunch of share-houses designed for students and backpackers who are going to be in the area for a while. I made an appointment for that afternoon and figured out the bus to check it out. The first house I was shown was really sort of terrible. I was crushed, since I was really banking on living at the complex. The second, however, was considerably better. Plus it had an ensuite bathroom and a little balcony, so I would only have to share a bathroom with one person. Plus there’s a washer, dryer, and a little side yard with a picnic table. Not too shabby. I put down a deposit, and that was that. Tuesday’s mission accomplished. Here’s a pic of the house:

And one of the street:

Wednesday’s mission: Get together an Australian resume and start the hunt to find someone who will pay me so I can afford food other than ramen noodles. The work & holiday program’s website actually has an Australian resume “wizard” where you just pop your information in and it spits out an Australian style resume. Nice! I sat down with the job guy, and he thinks I’ll have a job within 2 weeks. Let’s hope he’s right. He sent my resume around to a few places, and one employment agency called within 15 minutes to set up an appointment. Nice again! I put on my little interview outfit and headed over to the agency that afternoon. As I was getting ready, I got a call from another agency as well, and set something up for Thursday. Trifecta of nice-ness! Of course I nearly shot myself in the foot walking home from the agency interview, as I left the employment office with a portfolio filled with information I had been given, and returned back to the hostel with… not a portfolio. Luckily enough I had a vague idea as to where it was. I was 75% sure I left it on a row of shopping carts at a super market while I was putting money away. I ran back to the market, where after asking 3 different people, I finally got it back. Whew. I don’t suppose the agency would have called me with any job offers if I had to run back to them the next day asking for another set of documents since I, um, lost everything 15 minutes after I left. Yeah, that would have been bad. Wednesday’s mission accomplished.

Thursday’s mission: Move into new place. Naturally, of course, I didn’t have enough cash on me that morning to put down my security deposit, so I had to use the hostel’s dumpy ATM. It was nice enough to print me a receipt saying that I withdrew $300, and then never gave me the cash. Phenomenal! I also found out the hard way that TD bank’s “call this number collect if you’re outside the US” phone number on the back of the debit card is wrong. Wonderful. Eventually my 130 pounds of luggage and I made it outside, where I wasn’t able to find the taxi stand that I was told was “right across the street,” so I schlepped onto a train. The train station I got off at was, of course, “lift-less” (although they’re installing one in 6 months! Very helpful!) so I had to rely on a 70 year old man to help me drag my 130 pounds of luggage up 2 flights of stairs. I prayed that he wasn’t going to end up giving himself a heart attack or something. I didn’t want the nice old Australian man to keel over because I grossly over-packed. Anyway, got into the apartment successfully, where a nice British boy who recently moved in with his girlfriend offered me a cup of tea. That made me happy, I do like when boys invite me to tea (Not that I miss any of you. Because I don’t. So don’t think that.). I then headed over to the other employment agency. It’s address was 2 Chifley Square, which strangely enough, seemed vaguely familiar. I googled it. Guess which investment management firm also happens to inhabit 2 Chifley Square??? Level 37, in case anyone was wondering. After that I bought a portable modem, which I didn’t know even existed until the British boy showed me one in a catalogue. Who knew such an animal existed? Technology is marvelous. Thursday’s mission accomplished.

Friday’s mission: Successfully attend first social outing. The Canadian invited me to go see Transformers 3 in 3D. Did I want to spent $25 on a 3D movie that I had less than 0 interest in seeing? No. No I did not. But when one is alone on a foreign continent (doesn’t that sound so much more dramatic than just saying “country”? Because it’s true. I am on my own on this continent, not just in the country!), one accepts any invite one can get. So I figured out how to get to Bondi Junction and watched Transformers in 3D. It actually wasn’t too shabby. The special effects were amazing, and I sort of got the main idea. Bad robots vs. Good robots. Fridays mission accomplished.

Saturday’s mission: SHOP. Turns out that this house complex is a hop skip and a jump away from a full blown mall. I was really excited about that. I found a great little discount supermarket, and tore through Kmart getting some good cheap basic items. I bought two pillows (the ones here are like cardboard), a pop-up hamper, and finally found a great deal on a 24 pack of coke J. I cooked myself dinner. Yes, I cooked. I made spaghetti. Granted, some people may not consider that real cooking, but that’s the most cooking I’ve done in quite a spell, so let’s allow me my moment of glory, shall we? Saturday’s mission accomplished as well.

Today: I finally did something interesting! I went whale watching. Humpbacks are migrating up north this time of year, so there are plenty of them around. We sort of trailed one whale, and followed his course. I felt a bit bad, about 3-4 boats were stalking the poor guy, but I don’t think the whales mind all that much. He even hammed it up at one point and flopped around and “waved” to the boat with his flipper:

Humpbacks are big. Super big. They don’t even seem like real animals, it looks more like a submarine slowly surfacing. Only it’s a submarine with a tail that waves hello when the mood strikes him. Very, very awesome.

Thoughts:

I’m still in awe over the “mobile” modem. I pop this thing that looks almost like an ipod into the USB port, and google and facebook are mine again. It’s basically magic.

They are really into Ugg boots here. I even saw someone on the street handing out fliers dressed as a giant Ugg boot. Ever seen a 6 foot tall furry boot on the street? It’s strange.

No one here says you’re welcome, everyone says “no worries”

It’s cold here at night. I brought my gloves just in case with me when I ventured out Friday night to find the movie theater. And I used my gloves. In July. I used my furry winter gloves in July.

I’m finally figuring out Sydney’s mass transit. Not only is it expensive, it’s stupid. Really stupid. Everything is charged based on zones, but at a micro-level. Of all the big cities I’ve ever been to, I think Sydney’s mass transit makes me the angriest. Even I could design something that makes more sense than this.

I have a roommate! For the sake of not making myself angry with hashing out the bitter details, I will abide by the rule that if one cannot say anything nice, then one shouldn’t say anything at all. I do have one nice thing to say though: She moves out Monday (morning, I pray). Ok fine, I’ll throw out a little something fun: When I moved in, she warned me about the room. I braced myself for what was to come next. Roaches? Silverfish? Mice? A great white shark who lives in the bureau who only eats silly little American girls and their stuffed dogs? No. Apparently, our room comes equipped with not only furniture and linen, but with a supernatural “presence”. She told me not to worry though, she’s pretty sure the presence is about her, and will go with her when she moves out. Plus she put rock salt in all four corners of the room, so we should be safe. Great! I was really relieved to be saved from the ghostly presence by her rock salt (which no doubt I’ll have to clean up off the floor after she moves out). Obviously we’re not dealing with the brightest crayon in the box here.

This entry may have been a bit detailed and tedious, and for the more casual subscriber, I do sincerely apologize.  Hopefully future entries down the road will have more kangaroo and crocodile stories than bank account and tax ID ones. At least you got a ghost story though? But anyway, seeing as this was a sort of whirlwind week filled with taking care of the boring stuff, I had to throw it all out there for those who care.

Hopefully this is the last entry written by Dara the unemployed. By the next update, I hope for a job and a ghostless existence.

I leave you with this final thought:

You know you’re far from home when Florida isn’t the closest Sunshine State…

Qantas Ate My Friday

Greetings from Sydney, Australia!

So as you have already been able to deduce, I arrived in one piece. It was not easy, but I successfully made it from New York to the YHA Sydney Central Hostel in New South Wales in about 31 hours. For anyone out there who ever plans on following a similar route, I have two important words of advice you: Business Class.

First thing’s first. What on earth am I doing here? That’s a fabulous question, and one that I’ve been asking myself about every 30-45 seconds since the first flight took off headed for LAX. Everyone who I told in the weeks leading up to the June 30^th departure had the same question: Why Australia? Honestly, I don’t have a stellar answer to that one. I guess the most basic reply is well, why not? I’ve spent forever daydreaming about what going on a real adventure would be like. Plus the most recent phase of my life seemed to me to be nearing an end, and I suppose I felt sort of stuck. I wanted to make a change, so I made a big one. I decided to leave my job, family, friends, activities, and Jean-Pierre and head for Oz. Australia always seemed to me like one of those places that if you’re going to make the effort to schlep to it, you might as well stay a while. It’s big. And it’s far. 14 hours from Los Angeles far. So here I am, friendless, jobless, and essentially homeless (although this is one of the nicer hostels I’ve ever seen) thousands of miles away from anything and anyone that I know. Yay?

I arrived here at 6:30 am local time after what seemed like 6 years on airplane. Although I must give Qantas credit, their in-flight entertainment system is absolutely top-notch. I got on the first plane on a summer Thursday, and stepped off the second on a winter Saturday. Talk about utterly confusing. Not only did I lose Friday, but I lost 2 seasons. I’m now in a country filled with people who think it’s perfectly natural for July to be a winter month. I can deal with the whole Celsius and kilometer nonsense, but I just can’t ever see myself getting used to the fact that Christmastime is the summer. Winter is July. No. No I’m sorry, that’s just odd.

The advertisements in the airport as you walk towards the baggage claim and passport control area are all about Australia’s deadly wildlife. Before the nice Aussie man even stamped my passport, giant murals and advertisements warned me about the funnel web spider (who is quite deadly and lives in Sydney!), the box jellyfish, and my personal favorite, the great white shark. Apparently people here are quite psyched about how many different ways you can die here at the hands of the native wildlife.

I was lucky enough on the van ride to the hostel to have a little tour of the famous Bondi beach, as an elderly couple who were dropped off before me lived in the area. The man mentioned how nice it was to be back home, and to see good ol’ Australian currency. Their currency still seems like Monopoly money to me, but so did the Euro at first glance, so I’m sure I just need some time to adjust. The best part of the van ride though, was that I got my first glimpse of the Opera House and the Harbor Bridge. It’s always quite amazing to see such an iconic world landmark for the first time in person. That’s when it really knocks you in the head: Holy $#!% I’m actually here!

By 2:30 pm local time I was able to check into the room and get settled. I laid down for what I intended to be a 3 hour maximum nap. I got up 15 hours later, at 5:30 am the following day. Yes, I actually went to sleep at 2:30 in the afternoon. And voluntarily woke up before 6. It’s been a very strange past few days…

If I had to pick one word to summarize everything thus far, it would be overwhelming. Completely, totally, and utterly beyond anything I’ve ever experienced overwhelming. The city is huge, and I have to figure it out. I need a job, I need friends, and I need somewhere to live. The country is the size of the continental United States. There are ads everywhere around the hostel for trips, greyhound discounts, train travel packages, hostels all over the country, cars for sale, job postings, activities… my brain is swirling. There’s so much to figure out. My orientation is tomorrow, so that’s when I’ll buckle down and start on the job hunting and apartment/room searching. Hopefully I’ll have a phone in a few days, and perhaps someone to talk to other than Marbles (He is my stuffed dog. I got him when I was around 8ish? Yes, yes, I am essentially a large child. Giggle and move on.), who I fear might spring to life any moment and run away from me. If I make no friends then we might end up with a Wilson/Castaway situation, and that’s just sad.

Some initial thoughts:

Food is EXPENSIVE. Like mind-blowingly expensive. You need to promise a first born child for a chesseburger around here. A 2 liter coke goes for about $6. I had ramen noodles for dinner. I’ll need a job asap, or I may start to shrink from lack of sustenance. Luckily I discovered an amazing market in Chinatown today with reasonably priced fresh fruit and vegetables. Once I get settled I’ll take advantage.

I was curious to see what sort of restaurant chains would be down here that I’d recognize. McDonalds of course, KFC is here too, as is Subway. There is also a 7 eleven on every block. Literally. Every. Block. There were some odd ones too, that I never expected to run into. Tony Roma’s is here. So is Max Brenner’s Chocolate by the Bald Man. That was a random one.

Sydney is nice, from what I’ve seen so far. It’s sort of like if you took New York and popped it in Southern California and sprinkled it with a dash of European flair. The toilets and street signs are very European-ish. The buildings are huge like NY, but once you’re at the harbor it’s all palm trees and boats and gorgeous water.

So far the cheapest can of coke I’ve been able to find is $1.35. If you buy a sandwich at 7 eleven, you can get a can of coke for half price. So I might not have a job or a real place to live, but in a town where soda goes for 6 bucks a bottle, I’ve found a reasonably priced can.

I’m having issues crossing the street. Granted, I’m not so skilled at home, but here I just have absolutely no idea which way to look. Thus far I’ve just been either following everyone else or saying a small prayer and then darting. This whole opposite side of the road thing really is quite confusing.

I am completely, utterly, and mind-blowingly overwhelmed. Wish me luck for orientation tomorrow!