Australia: Calling All Fare Evaders

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

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!

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!

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!

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

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?

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

Australia: Flashdance

If you've never had the opportunity to watch Center Stage, then you are missing out on a true American classic that's in the same echelon as Flashdance and Dirty Dancing. You must go to Blockbuster and rent it immediately. I own the DVD and I've only watched it about a thousand times. Every Monday night my new friends - Nikki (monkey nuts), Nokomi (fat slut), Jenny (dyke) and I (dumb Yank) live out our own Center Stage moment at a Broadway dance class. It is the most fun I've had since my Bollywood class in India - way better than sex. The exhilarating class is an hour long and you jump right in dancing to catchy showtunes like Grease Lightning and Fame. The class moves at breakneck pace, a constant reminder of my atrociously apparent lack of rhythm, and you learn the steps as you go. Then half-way through, the instructor teaches you the choreography to a new song each week. Last week it was the theme song to Flashdance [What a feeling! Bein's Believing! I can't have it all, now I'm dancin' for my life...] I know everyone of you reading this just sang that song in your head, didn't you? Admit it.

We learned all the steps Irene Cara danced to in the audition scene. The steps go something like windmill, windmill, step, kick, turn... Oh what a feeling! The pure jollification of happy showtunes! This week it was a number from Chorus Line. Then on Wednesdays we will start attending the Jazz Hip Hop class. We are also looking into a Bollywood dance class but haven't found one yet. By the time I'm done in Australia, I might be good enough to dance backup on Broadway! Ok not really. I'm the one who's always off by half a beat - turning at the wrong time and stepping on everyone's toes - while the class is dancing in rhythmic unison. It's supposed to be a BEGINNER class! Those bitches are such show offs. Nevertheless, it's FANTASTIC having girls as new friends - Ben would rather "grate [his] balls with a cheese grater" (his words) than take a dance class with me. The girls and I even had a slumber party over the weekend with a Bollywood movie (Bride and Prejudice), a game of scrabble, and popcorn with M&Ms.

Between my daily job search, dance classes, book club (yes I just joined one), playing tourist/posing as a local, and meeting new friends, Melbourne is beginning to feel like home. I am having such a blast that I am starting to forget what's his name. God what IS his name? J...J...Jimmy? No that's my ex-husband...Jekyll? No that's Mr. Hyde...Justin? No that's JT as in Timberlake...Joseph? No he's busy fathering Mary's illegitimate child (virgin my ass)...Drawing a blank here...Even though it's only been a few weeks on my own, I can vaguely remember bits and pieces....skin and bones...receding hairline...pencil dick...wreaks of curry...loves strippers...shits on skis...It's slowly coming back to me...Wait, I got it! It's JAFAR with a J!!! Yes! I love you, Jafar with a J - my future husband #2! Or is it #3? I can't keep track these days.


Pictures: Ben (the other Ben) is visiting this week so we spent Sunday driving around Williamstown, a cute little town by the water reminiscent of Sausalito.

Australia: Before Pictures of Our Home

Let me give you a tour of our humble abode. These are before pictures as we are still in the arduous process of furnishing the place. Once it is fully decorated I will post after pictures. With 14-foot ceilings, the one-level home is an old monastery that has been remodeled on the inside. Australia has these heritage preservation rules where you cannot overhaul the structure of historical homes and buildings (but the interior can be completely remodeled to look like a spaceship if you prefer to live in a spaceship). The quaint neighborhood is unpretentiously cute with cafes and boutiques lining our street and has a very East Village feel (I don't really know what that means but I've always wanted to write that.) We live in close proximity - a couple blocks - to the train station and the city is just two stops/10 min. away. The location is ideal for anyone who likes to live close to the city but not in the city. I welcome all visitors! (well, that invitation only applies to people I know personally.)

Australia: Job-ulous!

It is Day Ten of my futile job search (which explains my frequent blogging). I've been applying online and meeting with recruiters every day, done a bunch of phone interviews, and exhausted nearly all my contacts. Still no luck. Well, I don't need luck - I just need a job. I do well on interviews up until the last question. Strengths? I give good head. Weaknesses? I don't swallow. Daily rate? Market. Well, everything sounds great to me! One last thing though: Permanent Work Visa? No, Work and Holiday. Oh...we'll get back to you. G'day! When can I expect to...? [CLICK] Herro? You there?

There is a pesky little stipulation that Work and Holiday visa holders cannot work for the same employer for more than six months. Normally this is not problematic for contract work, but a lot of these employers want to extend contracts for more than six months making me ineligible from the get-go. But I did get a good laugh when one of my online applications was rejected by the client's mail server because it contained "offensive language." What could I possibly have in my resume that is remotely "offensive"? When I emailed the administrator, she replied that she'd be happy to push my application through but explained my resume contained "Summa cum laude." Oh...HAHA.

Maybe my temporary immigration to Australia is just not meant to be. To add to the equation, I received an informal offer this week to move back to San Francisco to work for a former client (it helps that the director and manager are my personal friends.) Why is it that every time I travel to Asia Pacific, I always get a job offer to stay in the U.S.? (This is the third time that's happened.) OK, for shits and giggles, let's work this one out together: Accepting the offer = permanent job + money + stability + free health insurance + many friends + familiar city. Declining the offer = no job + no money + marginal health insurance + no friends (very few) + foreign city. Well, the answer is obvious, isn't it? Any normal person with common sense but no balls would move back and take the job in a jiffy. Me? I am the complete opposite of that: I have no common sense whatsoever but got balls of steel. Therefore, I am going to stick it out and keep trying until at least Justin gets here. IF and only IF neither one of us gets a job before my 25th birthday in June, THEN I suppose we'll perchance consider the mere prospect of moving back. Possibly.

Meanwhile, I'm on a new diet called JAS. Ever heard of it? Jobless And Starvin', the JAS diet is quite effective; I've already lost 2 kilos (5 lbs) in just a week. When finances are scarce and you are forced to choose between entertainment and food, I seem to have chosen the former which is very unlike me but I AM trying to make friends in a new city.

Pics: Flinders St. station - I have an affinity for clocks. I think the juxtaposition of that huge structure of Super Mario against the backdrop of surrounding historical buildings is quite fitting for Melbourne - a city of tradition and modernism.

Small Note of Unimportance: I have received a very angry letter from a very angry fan of the Pittsburgh Steelers to make a correction to my last post when I said it is no fun to cheer for a losing team lke the Steelers. This is what Justin, I mean the very angry fan, wrote: YOU CUNT. THE STEELERS ARE NOT ON A LOSING STREAK. 1 OF THEIR PAST 4 SEASONS THEY WENT 8 - 8, WHICH IS AS CLOSE AS THEY'VE COME TO LOSING. I THINK YOU SHOULD MAKE A CORRECTION. Right...Am I alone when I say HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!?!?

Australia: My First Footy Game

After a week of total isolation in Melbourne with no one but myself to talk to (Justin doesn't arrive for another 2 weeks; Ben is in Nepal for a wedding; Jimmy and Noules are vacationing in HK), I have doubled my friend count from four to eight in just one weekend - quite an accomplishment as you know I'm painfully shy and socially awkward. On Saturday night Nikki whom I met through Ben invited me to attend an AFL game at the Telstra Dome with her and her friends - my very first footy game in Australia - and I'm sure it won't be my last since I live with a footy fanatic. The autumn weather's been seasonably chilly so I put on my thick red hooded sweatshirt with a white sleeveless down puffy jacket. Who would've known that I had accidentally worn the team colors - red, white, and black- of the St. Kilda Saints? Naturally I had to cheer for them which happened to be the team Nikki grew up supporting. (Remember, we don't use "root for" as it has a whole new meaning here.) Their opponent was the Carlton Blues whose team colors are blue and white.

I won't even attempt to explain Aussie rules football for you. It involves kicking and catching the football, a lot of running, and two goal posts at both ends of the field. The game moves very fast and is pretty exciting to watch. It certainly got my adrenaline going especially since I had a team to cheer for. Unlike the NFL, Aussie football players don't really tackle as much as they push and shove each other. And their uniforms consist plainly of a short-sleeve jersey and nude colored nut huggers with short shorts over them and strip knee-high socks - no shoulder pads or helmets. Very manly actually. Ok not really. Their players also lack multi-million dollar contracts the way American pro-athletes are accustomed to. Each football team (known as club) has a salary cap to divvy up between their players. The half-time show involves a quick footy game for little kids playing for the same teams. There's no such thing as scantily-clad cheerleaders here either, but they do have massive pompoms that resemble floor mops in their team colors that are waved at the end of each goal post.

But what the AFL does have in common with the NFL is the passion (and anger) exhibited by their devoted fans. The guys sitting behind us were screaming so loud during the entire 3-hour-long game that I think they shot my right ear drum. The team I ended up cheering for (purely by my coincidental choice of clothing) kicked the other team's ass - 125 to 85! As a tradition, after every game fans of the winning team get to sing the team song and hang their flags out in the car. The St. Kilda's team song is When The Saints Go Marching In. It's always that much more fun to cheer for the victor, unlike the Pittsburgh Steelers (a five-time NFL champion who is used to a losing streak in recent years).

Australia: International Comedy Festival

First off - Rupert the Bear: thank you for the additional class notes on English English (see previous post and comments). Your feedback is always welcome and appreciated. Although I do have to disagree with you on one thing: Brits may spell it "footie" or "brekkie" but all the signs I've seen around here in AUSTRALIA spell such words with a "y." And we are ready and waiting for you to make your appearance here in Melb - Ben is more than happy to share his big lonely bed with you. But walls are thin so please keep it down.

Moving on...The 22nd Melbourne International Comedy Festival is happening right now between March 19th through April 13th and I already got to see two shows! One of the three largest comedy festivals in the world, the Melbourne Festival is an annual event that showcases some of Australia's and the world's best comedians every night for a month (left pic of their daily board of comedians). Two weekends ago, Jimmy, Noules, and I saw Spicks and Specks based on a popular TV music quiz show (think Name That Tune) that features famous guests like Weird Al Yankovic. To put it into context, it was like seeing a live show of Wheel of Fortune inside a theater with Pat and Vanna as the actual hosts. I didn't get some of the Australian jokes but I understood 92% of what they said (sometimes it's a little hard with their accent) and recognized 87% of the songs.

This past Friday, I was out on a blind date with Tamie (introduced by my LA friend Debbie) who brought her friend Frank along. (My friend count in Melbourne has gone from 4 to 6.) Like all the Aussies I've met so far, they were super nice and funny. We dined at Shanghai Village in Chinatown (left pic) then watched a comedy show featuring Reginald D Hunter. The advertisement said Reginald was from the U.K. so we were expecting a British comedian. But it turns out he was an American living in London. I flew all this way to Australia, attend an international comedy festival just to watch a bloody AMERICAN comedian???!!! Good thing I understood 100% of what he said and he was pretty funny. His jokes were mainly about black Americans vs. white Americans (it's ok - he's black) and ended the 50 min. show with this:

He loves "F*ck you" movies because they don't give a rat's ass about happy endings with fat chicks finding love (a la Bridget Jones) and bad guys getting killed. His all-time favorite is a short Japanese film about a bus that gets carjacked. Two men point their guns at everyone asking them for their wallets then drag the bus driver out of the bus by her ponytail and proceed to rape her. No one on the bus does anything to help even at the urge of a scrawny teenager who gets out of the bus and tries to fight the two villains off. They beat the crap out of him and he is left lying on the ground bleeding. When they are done with the girl, she gets back on the bus and resumes her position in the driver seat, emotionless and speechless. Then the boy who tried to save her earlier gets back on the bus but she yells at him to get off. Instead she throws his backpack out the door and drives the bus away. The boy, utterly bewildered, limps along until 20 minutes later when he sees a herd of ambulances and police cars. He finds out that the girl has driven the bus off a cliff killing herself and everyone on the bus. The end. WOW! Those Japanese, I tell ya.

Oh yea, the punchline of the joke was: He didn't know if that was a "F*ck you" movie or just that women really can't drive.