Little Man Loves His 'Roos

It seems I am not the only one to have fully embraced Australia. My very own favorite Jamoney is sporting some quality 'Roo-wear, courtesy of yours truly, and is clearly loving it.

Now if only his mommy & daddy would get on board and plan a visit...the kid is ready!

I Say 'Toilet' Now

Made a sad realization today: I've started saying 'toilet' instead of restroom or bathroom. All through my time in the UK I held strong to my aversion to using toilet as a stand-alone word for bathroom but somehow Australia has crept in and settled in my vocabulary. Behold, other words I have also started using:

• mozzies (mosquitoes) 
• prezzies (presents)
• bin bag (trash bag)
• mobile (cell phone)
• coriander (cilantro)
• good on ya (well done)

The list goes on. I am shamed--'losing' my American-ness has started much sooner than I thought. Turns out life is just easier when people can understand you. But I promise the BIGGEST of promises to never develop a quasi-Australian accent a la British Madonna. It.Will.Not.Happen.

Bringing the Pilgrims to Oz

When you live in a foreign country, celebrating American holidays can help make you feel closer to home. After a successful Thanksgiving-esque celebration in London 2 years ago (that technically involved more international folk than actual Americans...) I decided to bring the tradition to Oz. Well. Easier said than done. Here is a partial account of my attempts to acquire ingredients. Australian pronunciations included for accuracy. 

Grocery store example #1:

Me: "Do you have any whole turkeys?"

Clerk: "Tehrkey? Ya we'vegotem, ma'am (ma'am?!!). Over thehr."

Me: "Oh yeah I saw those but they only seem to be about 2kilos (aka 4lbs) and I need something a bit bigger."

Clerk: "Nah. Don't harv anything biggah. You American? You guys eat a lot of tehrkey."

Me: "Um I guess?"

Grocery store example #2:

Me: "Do you have any fresh cranberries?"

Clerk: Weird look "Nope."

Me: "How about frozen ones?"

Clerk: "Umm we harv strorberries?"

Me: "Hmm don't think those will work but thank you."

Fancy butcher example #3:

Me: "Do you have any whole turkeys? Bigger than 6kilos?"

Clerk: "Yeah we do. Last one actually."

Me: "Oh that's awesome! I'll take it!"

Clerk: "Ok that will be $96."

Me: FML

Despite these minor setbacks, Bob & I successfully hosted 10 people last night for a slightly belated Thanksgiving. There were sweet potatoes, brussels sprouts and everything in between. I even made everyone go around and say what they were thankful for. Feelings for the win!

 This is not a fake picture. I really did cook things. And they were delicious. 

I take full responsibility for encouraging over-eating amongst Aussies. 

Beachside Recovery

We celebrated a friend's birthday on Saturday night. The theme was 1920s Great Gatsby and naturally I forced Bob to dress up. A pair of braces (aka suspenders) and a gangster hat later, he did me proud:

Post-festivities this morning, we were both feeling a bit rough so we opted for some coffee-fueled recovery at our favorite spot overlooking our neighborhood beach, Trigg. It was sunny and refreshing and just plain gorgeous.

To document our beautiful morning, I used my newly-discovered iPhone app called RoadMovies that allows you to take short 3 second video clips and then mash them all together to create a 24-second clip with music. Basically the idiot's answer to actually editing a video. I kind of love it and even Bob is becoming a fan (slowly).

I've uploaded the clip I made to an unlisted YouTube link here. As my beloved is a bit shy (I was limited to only two shots of him), let's keep this video between friends :)

And just in case the video doesn't work, here are some plain old pictures to lure you all for a visit!

That One Time I Got Breathalyzed...

• Turns out breathalyzing is a regular thing here in Oz. They set up road blocks and just pull people over at will to check for drunk drivers (or 'drink drivers' as they weirdly call them here). These stops are colloquially called 'booze buses' which is hilarious because that's what we called the buses on which we consumed copious amounts of alcohol during college. But, I digress.
• It was Friday afternoon about 3pm and I was driving back to the office after being out with a corporate group of volunteers. I had not had anything to drink that day (despite a raging desire for a nice wine spritzer to combat the 95 degree heat...) but I still went all gooey inside when I spotted the cops. Needless to say, I was fine and was told to continue on my way. I felt this was a bizarre thing to have happen at 3pm in the afternoon.
• WELL the next night (Saturday), Bob and I were on our way to a friend's birthday party in full 1920s/gangster attire (pictures to follow) and what do we encounter but ANOTHER booze bus! Again, not a worry because Bob is a responsible folk and only had 1 drink with dinner knowing he would be driving. Such a good Bubbles.
• The poor bloke in front of us? Not so lucky. Got taken out of his car and a cop drove the car away to add it to the bay of other seized cars. Eeeesh buddy. Not your day. Sadly, I did not get a picture of the guy (even I'm not that awkward) BUT I did get a shot of the whole procedure:

At this point, the guy in the station wagon ahead of us was probably dying a little on the inside.

• It was all very exciting for me and I felt very special. Bob thought I was ridiculous because random stops are so common here and promptly told me that I am special but not for the reasons I think. Cheeky one, Voss.                                                                                     

Off to the Races!

• Horse racing is a pretty big deal here. One such race, the Melbourne Cup, is held in Sydney each year. (Just jokes! It's held in Melbourne. Duh.) Australians call it "The Day that Stops the Nation"--and it does. At 12pm Perth time on the first Tuesday of November, offices across the country stop what they're doing and tune in to watch the race. Women wear colorful dresses and fascinating fascinators. It's all very fancy but for boring reasons, Bob & I both missed out on festivities this year.

• So we went for the budget option: discount tickets to Perth's Ascot Racetrack. No Melbourne. No fancy office parties. Lots of tattooed bogans. We only do classy, folks.

• I joke, I joke. Kind of. About 4 out of 10 people clearly left the house without employing the guidance of a mirror but the rest were quite posh and put my best maxi dress to shame. Boy was that fun people watching. Believe me, if I could have snapped a few shots of the Skyy Vodka reps' sparkly sparkly dresses and/or some of the poor spray tan choices I would have. Next time, my friends, next time.

• For now, hopefully a picture of our sweaty selves taken after the final loss of our 0 bet on the wrong horse. Damn you, Brindle Rose. Damn you.

Hello and welcome to the hottest place on Earth. Complete with horse poop. And flies. Yay Perth.

Picture of our horse of choice...losing.

Flies Ruin My Life

So it's been said by many (including myself) that Perth is uncannily similar to San Diego and I'd have to say it's true. For the most part. The people are definitely warm and friendly in both places. There is a big beach culture and palm trees line many streets. There's a lot of native brush (that, sadly, burns quite easily leading to huge brush/bush fires) and locals really like the outdoors. The list goes on.

There are also, however, large differences aside from the obvious driving on the wrong side of the road and using plasticpaper money. The flies, for one, are not my friends here. They invade Perth during the spring to such an extent that scientists have brought in African dung beetles to help cutdown on the fly population. Despite their origin in, well, dung, I welcome these beetles with open arms. In fact, I would probably carry a few around with me if it meant a reduction of flies. There's also this option:

But I'd probably rather become a hermit than cruise around in one of those. So...yeah. That leaves me and the dung beetles. But why would I carry around small poo-insects with me just to brave the outdoors, you ask? Well that brings me to another difference between San Diego and Perth: their beaches. Yes, both cities have beaches but only one has no seaweed, water like the Caribbean, and sand that's like buttah.

Behold: City Beach Beach and the impetus for my sudden interest in dung beetles. We went for breakfast at a cafe overlooking the beach this morning and were literally attacked by every fly in the southern hemisphere. Bob has advised that the flies aren't usually this bad and I just need to "wait it out." I, however, refuse to give in to these creatures and will instead be obtaining some beetles and heading back to the beach pronto. Of course, Bob will be in charge of carrying the poo-beasts as they are Australian flies after all and therefore entirely his fault.