kirribilli kim

quicko: indian summer

2012-02-01T21:45:00.002+11:00

I was reading an article today and ran across the phrase "Indian summer." What got me was that it was actually referring to the summer in, of all places, India. I'm not positive, but I'm pretty sure Australians don't have the term "Indian summer" at all -- not that it's terribly PC in the US either, but it is a common enough phrase. (For the Australians reading, "Indian summer" is usually in September or possibly October -- after "summer proper" has come and gone, but then "summer" pops back for a couple more warm days.)

In general, Australians also use "Indian" much more appropriately to refer to people from India, rather than Native Americans. (Had a bit of a moment the other day when I was shocked to realize that sitting "Indian style" could actually be taken either way ...)

photo evidence: look who won 2nd place trivia twice now!

2012-01-31T23:34:00.000+11:00

So I might not have actually answered any question correctly in the trivia, but I did legitimately win heads and tails -- my strategy of "tails all the way!" finally having paid off!! And look! I was enthusiastic enough that my team (the Happy Clappers, who named themselves in my honor, aren't they amazing?!) managed to win without any stellar contributions from the realms of, say, Shakespeare or Broadway musicals.

2012-01-31T23:24:00.000+11:00

I found this terribly amusing: walking out in Manly tonight there came a vague sprinkling from the sky. The immediate response of my Australian friend? "Is that rain or is someone up at that pub peeing on our heads?"

quicko: chinese new year

2012-01-30T23:40:00.000+11:00

So the Chinese New Year was a little big ago now, but there's still remnants of decorations up -- it's not ultra-huge here, but it's a lot bigger than I ever noticed it being in America. Presumably if I'd been in bigger cities more it would have been, but in general I do think Asian culture plays a bigger part in Australian culture than America.

photos: kurraba point (wow, it's pretty!)

2012-01-29T21:31:00.000+11:00

quicko: radio

2012-01-29T21:16:00.001+11:00

Did you know that in Australia it is technically on the rulebooks that you're not supposed to play the radio in a workplace unless you've paid for it? I had no idea. Is it like that in America too and I just didn't know?

quicko: a mile away

2012-01-28T11:22:00.000+11:00

An idiom used in Australia to mean that something is very far away. I found this odd, seeing as a mile isn't a particularly great distance. My friends weren't interested in hearing my arguments of the inadequacies of their idioms, though.

quicko: letterboxes

2012-01-27T00:00:00.000+11:00

While Americans certainly recognize and understand the term, "mailboxes" would be our word of choice.

photos: my australia day

2012-01-26T21:05:00.001+11:00

For Australia Day, I had pavlovas in Manly ...

and ate Anzac biscuits

and sang Waltzing Matilda

and saw an Australian flag in the sky

and went swimming in the habour

which was a bit cold, so also went swimming into the pool

then was hungry so had a lamington

and took a walk around North Head

then took a walk in my Australian "backyard"

and found my bit of harbour for the first time.

Hope you had a happy Australia Day, too!

happy australia day!!

2012-01-26T01:11:00.007+11:00

Happy Australia Day!!!

quicko: rice what-ies!?

2012-01-25T01:02:00.000+11:00

I knew Australians had some knock-off Rice Krispies cereal (Rice Puffs, evidently), but I was shocked to see Snap, Crackle and Pop themselves being used on what I immediately took to be an impostor, seeing as Rice Bubbles are patently not rice Krispies. A closer look revealed, though, that they are actually bona fide Kellogg's. Which means, it seems, that Kellogg's just willingly decided to change their name. It must be some marketing ploy, but I find it odd. Surely you can't get better than Rice Krispies -- Rice Bubble treats just doesn't have the same ring to it! (Which perhaps is why no one actually makes them here -- though the marshmallows are a bit off, too, so maybe it's just a lost cause. Hmm.)

quicko: soft toys

2012-01-24T00:50:00.000+11:00

I might have mentioned this before (I feel like I'm starting a lot of posts that way these days ... it's getting a bit hard to keep track! I do know I wrote reasonably extensively on this topic ages ago now for catapult magazine ...), but "soft toys" or something similar is what Australians call "stuffed animals." For the British take on it, see my old article.

photos: freshwater

2012-01-23T22:42:00.000+11:00

photos: curl curl

2012-01-23T22:37:00.001+11:00

photos: dee why and long reef

2012-01-23T22:31:00.002+11:00

quicko: theatre prices

2012-01-22T00:19:00.000+11:00

Are absolutely atrocious. I pretty much can't get over any of the prices here (still. after 4 years. you'd think I would.), but lately it's the theatre that's been getting me. I understand paying a bit for professional theatre, but I generally pay what I'd consider professional prices for the amateur productions and atrocious prices for the professional productions. The Cincinnati Shakespeare Festival, which is, by the way, amazing, charges in the neighborhood of $25 a show. This is reasonable. The Sydney Short and Sweet productions are also $25 a show. They are great, don't get me wrong, and I loved going and would probably even go back, but $25? Really? Shouldn't it be like $10? Or at the most $10 plus the roll of a die or something? Draw a card from the deck when you come in and pay its face value perhaps? It'd be more in keeping with the vibe of it anyway!

Oh well. Such is life, I guess. And such is why it's really just best to put on productions of Macbeth in your friend's backyard. Oh yeah. Stay tuned on that one!

quicko: symphony in the domain

2012-01-22T00:00:00.000+11:00

Sorry, guys, blogger is being silly and not letting me upload the video of the 1812 Overture. It was awesome, though! Anyway, these aren't really the same, but they're the best consolation prize I have to offer. Blogger also insists on putting them in reverse order. Sigh. Maybe you could YouTube 1812 if it'd make you feel better. Might help me.

caring for your australian

2012-01-21T15:54:00.000+11:00

Should you be an American escorting an Australian around your home country, there are several things they need to know right off the bat.

They're more used to traveling and you probably won't need to go into all the time zone, electric plug, Fahrenheit, drive on the right, measure in cups/pounds/miles, write dates "backwards" (say it like that, it's best to humo(u)r them), count building levels from "1" instead of "G" business with them, but there are three things that you'll really have to mention. Gently.

First, tell them that cars are not required to stop at "zebra" crossings. It doesn't matter that you don't know what a zebra crossing is, just use that phrase and, as they say, she'll be right, mate. Just make sure they get it -- the last thing you want on your hands is a squashed Australian. (A "zebra" crossing is a striped pedestrian crossing.)

Second, brace them for the fact that they're going to have to pay sales tax. Although they pay it all the time in Australia, they're unaware of it because it is built into the price. Thus, if it says "$5," it costs $5, not $5.35 or whatever it is in your state. This will be a rude shock for them, particularly if they have a $20 bill and want something for $19.99.

Third, you've got to break the concept of tipping to Australians. This is a major dilemma and best done very delicately and carefully and very strongly prefaced with vast quantities of "I know you'll disagree, I know this will seem strange, I know you think it's very, very wrong, but please, please, please just hear me out." This is necessary because Australian waitstaff are paid in the neighborhood of $15/hour for their services and Australians see no need to tip them. Fair enough, in Australia. They are convinced it is the restaurant's duty to pay its employees. Again, fair enough. In Australia.

You must explain very painstakingly and lovingly that America, though very similar to Australia in many ways, is actually quite different in this particular area and it's an actual cultural difference that needs to be tolerated and respected. (Being big on tolerance and respect, Australians should be all ears at this point.)

When you feel the time is right, have your Australian guess how much money a waiter or waitress makes in America. They'll sense where this is going and immediately subtract about $5 from their initial opinion, which puts them guessing around $10. If they're really on the ball they may go as low as $8. Beneath $6 is virtually unheard of, unless they've played this game before. After they give their final answer, drop the bombshell: $2.13. Per hour. Before tips. This figure was absolutely 100% accurate in Ohio in the summer of 2004. Minimum wage was $5.15 or $5.45 an hour. I would know. So, yes, with tips waitresses did generally make at least minimum wage (and technically were supposed to have their salary vamped up to it if they didn't, but I never knew that to happen), but often just barely.

Now I admit it's possible wages have gone up a bit since then, but honestly I doubt it's more than $4, and that's on the liberal side of estimations. A 50% increase in 8 years during recession strikes me as wildly unlikely. But let's just say. It's still only half, if that, of the lowest number an Australian was likely to guess anyway.

After you've delivered this news, give your Australian some time to recover. They'll probably need a beer. Or two. When they seem to have regained their composure, explain that, culturally, the sensitive thing to do is to tip a minimum (minimum!) of 15%. This is accurate for restaurants with paper napkins. If you go to a restaurant with cloth napkins, the increment is 20%.

As your Australian sputters on the beer, seize their moment of speechlessness to stress how very important of a social custom tipping is in America. Point out to them that being a "bad tipper" is a horrendous -- horrendous! -- insult and it is a cultural taboo not to tip.

At this point they will insist on asking what happens if they receive bad service. Refrain from pointing out that, since they are in America, they are exceptionally unlikely to actually receive bad service. Work with them on their hypothetical.

Should they receive bad service, you explain, it is possible to tip less. You will not be thrown in jail. You will, however, be blacklisted by this restaurant -- which is all well and good for your traveling Australian who never expects to be back again, but is very bad for the reputation of Australians in general. Remind them that waitstaff hearing Australian accents are actually likely to give slightly worse service because their country, alas, has already received a bad rap that way. (This is possibly also due to the fact that the British are known to be bad tippers in America and many Americans have trouble differentiating the accent. Thus, your Australian may, shock and horror!, be assumed British. Refrain from mentioning this as well.) Therefore, it is their choice to tip as they see fit, but it may be paving a very bleak path for future traveling Australians. Leave it up to their consciences.

Finally, you must clinch this argument by emphasizing that no matter how stupid, ridiculous, immoral, etc. they find tipping 15% to be, they must be aware that the key to changing this custom is not via bad tipping and that bad tipping hurts no one except the unfortunate individual waiter or waitress. The greedy, lazy, despicable company is not hurt at all. It does not care. It is, after all, greedy, lazy and despicable. The waiter or waitress, however, will actually be hurt severely if he or she doesn't earn a decent tip -- but will actually truly be made that much happier by even an extra $1 or $2 ("gold coin donation" you could call it). Think of the waitress. Really.

Leave them to think on that for a few days, and then repeat the process every two weeks until they depart. If it still hasn't sunk in, lead them to a zebra crossing, stand back and let them fend for themselves.

quicko: milk wars

2012-01-20T00:00:00.000+11:00

I go through tons of milk, mostly because I'm addicted to cereal for breakfast. I also had no idea everyone else didn't drink milk with dinner until I was somewhere in my mid-twenties.

Anyway, I drink a lot of milk. And I always get my milk from Coles, because when you're walking home with 3 litres of milk, you shop wherever is closest. The other day, though, my friend brought me some milk from Woolworths. Now this was a novelty and I'd actually just already bought my own milk, so I finished my Coles milk first and then started into the milk from Woolies, both of which expired on the same day. I was shocked, then, to realize that the Woolies milk actually stayed fresh past its expiration date! My Coles milk usually goes bad about two days before its expiration date, so this was a novelty of epic proportions. Who would have thought? The home brands of both, but one that far outlasts the other! If only Woolies were closer.

quicko: ekka

2012-01-19T00:00:00.000+11:00

Short for "exhibition." Particularly in Brisbane, where there's an annual Ekka of evidently monumental proportions -- similar I believe Sydney's Royal Easter Show (of Kim a la Wombat fame). It sounds awfully like a State Fair to me, but I could be mistaken.

quicko: push bikes

2012-01-18T23:13:00.002+11:00

Bike bikes, as opposed to motorbikes. Australians favo(u)r "motorbike" over "motorcycle," but "push bike" keeps confusing me. I picture a shopping cart ("trolley" here) or a bike with a basket or some odd combination when all they actually mean is just a literal bicycle.

quicko: a very australian week

2012-01-18T01:10:00.002+11:00

It's been a very Australian week so far.

On Sunday, I drove on the left. I mean, I never drive any other way here, but it was only the second time in four years I've been able to manage to persuade someone to let me drive their car. It was really pretty exciting! I didn't really go much farther than around the block a few times, but it was great to be in the driver's seat again!

On Monday, I bought my first pair of Havianas, pictured above. Aren't they adorable? I know. I've always heard Australians talk about them and had never heard of them before I came here, but they are really fabulous. They're very cushy yet sturdy and pretty flip flops and I'm already quite smitten with my pair.

On Monday, I also rode on the koala-emu-kangaroo-go-round (pictured in a previous post), which was pretty fantastic. Where else but Australian can you find a koala-emu-kangaroo-go-round? No where else, that's where!

On Tuesday, I won second place in the pub trivia! (Also pictured proudly in a previous post.) There were six of us and granted I answered far fewer than my fair share of the questions, but I like to think providing enthusiasm and remembering to invite people to come along goes a long way. $50 for fun next time we go out now, huzzah!

Well, that's it's so far. It's only Tuesday, but already I feel quite Australian. I wonder what Wednesday will hold!

photos: cremorne point

2012-01-18T01:00:00.002+11:00

I know you've seen Cremorne Point photos before, but aren't they just gorgeous every time?

quicko: merry-go-round

2012-01-18T00:41:00.001+11:00

Surely you can't get much more Australian than a koala-emu-kangaroo merry-go-round!

magic moment: we won trivia!! (well, 2nd place still pays okay :) )

2012-01-17T23:59:00.000+11:00

photos: turimetta AKA little narrabeen

2012-01-16T22:50:00.000+11:00

quicko: a thigh-slapper

2012-01-15T22:30:00.002+11:00

What I'd call a knee-slapper.

mr. eternity

2012-01-14T23:49:00.001+11:00

I've rarely been so proud of the labels for a particular post here, but today's include the incredible mix of "christians," "sydney," "why sydney rocks," "history" and "famous australians." It's rare Christians get a good rap in society today, but I absolutely love it when it happens -- just think if every Christian lived the way Christians are supposed to, how much better would our stigma in society be? Not that Christians should ever expect to be treated well by the world at large, but if we were hated because of Jesus instead of for not acting like Him, at least that would mean we were doing an awful lot better job of following Him.

Anyway, I have a vague idea that others from outside-of-Christian circles have mentioned Mr. Eternity to me before, but I heard about him at church tonight in one of those ways like Martin Luther King, Jr. that makes you go, "yeah! If only everyone realized he was doing what he did for the gospel of Jesus Christ and not just because he was nice/creative/charismatic/altruistic/cool/etc!"

So, Mr. Eternity is a reasonably well-known name in Sydney because for 35 years in the early to mid 1900s he wrote the word "eternity" in chalk all over the streets of Sydney. He's estimated to have written it over 500,000 times and thus made his mark. Because his identity wasn't known, he was referred to as Mr. Eternity.

The part of the story that isn't as widely known is that his real name was Arthur Stace and he had an absolutely amazing testimony of being a follower of Jesus Christ. He'd had an awful childhood and led a very colorful life up unto the age of 46 at which time he heard a sermon and gave his life to Christ. Two years later he heard another sermon on eternity from Isaiah 57:15 ("For thus saith the high and lofty One that inhabiteth Eternity, whose name is Holy; I dwell in the high and holy place, with him also that is of a contrite and humble spirit, to revive the spirit of the humble, and to revive the heart of the contrite ones.") and felt God's call on his life to write "eternity" around Sydney. I imagine this was to make everyone stop and consider eternity and how their current lives would impact their eternity, though I didn't find that explicitly stated. What was also fascinating was that he was nearly illiterate to the point of hardly being able to write his own name, but he was able to write "eternity" beautifully.

He lived in Sydney between 1884 and 1967, and today one of his "eternity" chalk writings remains (there are two other replicas). Vastly more important, though, is the impact he made on a hugely unknowable number of people which will truly last for eternity.

For further reading:
"Mr. Eternity -- Arthur Stace"
Eternity at the Olympics -- though I disagree with the ending. I doubt he (or any Christian) would call the gospel the best "bargain" he'd ever had.
Arthur Stace -- Wikipedia

quicko: WIRES

2012-01-13T00:00:00.000+11:00

Refers to Wildlife Information, Rescue and Education Services (WIRES) and is Australia's largest wildlife charity.

photos: collaroy to dee why

2012-01-12T21:23:00.000+11:00

plug: short and sweet

2012-01-11T23:59:00.000+11:00

Tonight I went to Short + Sweet, which is a fantastic production of short (10 minute or less) plays. The plays are new and written just for the production, and the top 100 (there's 10 weeks with 10 plays performed several times each week -- i.e., tonight there were 10 plays over a hour and a half or so -- they'll be performed the same way the rest of this week and next week 10 new plays will be done, etc., etc.) as well as some wildcards get voted on until winners are eventually picked. And I have to say -- the competition is mighty fierce!

At intermission, after 5 plays, I was pretty sure I knew one I wanted to vote for (thankfully they give you two votes), but after intermission I could only narrow it down to 6. Anyway, there was a lot of talent all around, but here's my quick (very biased) thoughts:

(spoiler alert if you're going!!)

1. The Interview -- very poignant and well done. Well cast, well acted. I don't know that I'd say I liked it ("poignant" isn't usually my thing), but it struck me as very worthwhile and good.

2. Six Naked Girls at a Nudist Beach -- fun, though a bit too self-aware. More enjoyable yet less good than the one before it.

3. One Day in the Life of Keef; The Human Riff -- didn't get it. Potentially it was deep and meaningful and witty but it all went kind of over my head, thus rendering it difficult to appreciate.

4. The Actor -- well done. The script wasn't my favorite, but it was carried out well. Particularly liked the little face big face exercise and other bizarre warm-ups I remembered from acting class.

5. Sparkling Effluescene -- really liked this one. It was funny and well played. It really won my heart by naming the automated voice answering machine Laura -- reminded me so much of the Lara I know at ... well, if you've ever called customer service with Lara, you'll know which one I mean. The humor -- "So you'd like the accounts department?" -- was the highlight for me.

6. Six Sharp Words -- nice and normal. Actually, come to think of it, except possibly for play #3, they were all reasonably normal, which was kind of nice. Not that I can't take zany and off-the-wall, but sometimes it's refreshing to go to theatre that doesn't feel the need to try to reinvent itself every other play.

7. Pretty Bird -- also really liked this one. It was such an intriguing concept -- there was the husband, the wife and the bird, played by a pretty young thing with feathers. The couple were trying to go through marital counseling with the aid of the bird, who was supposed to repeat back what they said so they felt heard and understood. The bird, however, was very good at repeating what the husband said and very good at repeating only part of what the wife said. "Pretty bird," though, was its favorite refrain. A really cool concept.

8. Hyacinth Court -- this was written (how cool is this?!) by a friend of a friend and was the whole reason we went to the show this night. It was much more serious than many of the others and quite grim, but very well written (not just saying that!) and very well done. It actually reminded me a lot of The Book Thief, both in terms of setting (albeit decades removed) and tone. There were two actors on stage -- one, an old man who was said to have been a Nazi and was regarded as strange and scary by his neighbors -- and the other a 15-year-old neighbor girl who was scared of him, but also felt sorry for him. They never actually interacted -- the spotlight shifted back and forth between them -- but they were speaking on similar topics back and forth. He was lonely and she was thinking of visiting him -- but in the end she decided to put it off one more day (he was scary after all) and he killed himself out of grief that night. It was very moving, with quite a lot of depth for a 10-minute play.

9. Jane Austen Made Me Do It -- a funny romp poking fun at Jane Austen and her admirers. The girl, in Austen-style garb, swooned her way through brief discussions of all six of Austen's books while the boy, who clearly liked her but she was oblivious to, entered these discussions taking the counterpoint. Fun and witty.

10. The Cause -- really good and really Australian. Set in the Shire, it featured a stereotypical surfer and his peer (called in the program "Rohan -- a socially inept teenager brainwashed by popular culture") who clashed continually until finally Rohan overstepped the line and made a crack about the ocean (insulting the surfer's girlfriend, mother? and sister hadn't been over it, but the surf was) which led the surfer to call his friend "Gazza" (whom he'd spoken to at the beginning (nice full circle work to the writer there) and mentioned his friends, say, Shazza, Dazza, Lazza and Mohammed) and tell him to start the now-famous Cronulla riots. I know friends have given me more information about these riots, but I can't remember off-hand -- basically, they were racially charged in Cronulla several years ago (90s maybe??) and I think their precise cause is unknown -- hence, this play which did a great job of showing that, yeah, they probably started over one stupid comment one teen made to another. Leading up to that point, though, it was really funny and clever and well acted -- and I really liked that the script was actually really going somewhere, too.

Overall, a really fantastic night. If you want to go, Short + Sweet is on Wednesdays through Saturdays at 8 pm and Sundays at 5:15 through March 4 at the Newtown Theatre on the corner of King and Bray Streets in Newtown. $30/adults, $25/students. Totally worth it!

quicko: salad

2012-01-10T23:21:00.000+11:00

Tonight I was out at trivia and somehow the topic of salad came up. I think I've already mentioned that Americans will call pretty much anything a salad if it consists of at least 3 ingredients and is jumbled together and served from a bowl. What I may have neglected to mention is that Australians call any configuration of lettuce, etc., salad, regardless of if it is being served as a salad or not.

So, for example, my friend had traveled in America as a vegetarian and had tried to order -- I'm still a little unclear on what exactly -- something to the effect of assorted greens on bread. Basically, she wanted the accoutrements to a burger but without an actual burger. Not a fake veggie-burger burger, but the lettuce, onions, tomatoes, etc. Now to her it was perfectly acceptable to order "salad" on her burger, because, as aforementioned, Australians call any configuration of lettuce, etc., salad even if it actually isn't. She was perplexed why they couldn't get her order right, and I was as perplexed as her waitress would have been. Salad? On a burger? But ... but ... but ...!! Um, okay, sure, but did you want that with Ranch, Italian, bleu cheese, 1000 Island, low-fat Italian or balsamic vinaigrette?

photos: balmoral is beautiful

2012-01-09T23:12:00.001+11:00

quicko: alco

2012-01-09T23:09:00.002+11:00

Slang for an alcoholic.

photos: festival first night

2012-01-08T18:33:00.001+11:00

I finally made it to a Festival First Night! I've been meaning to go for years and just hadn't made it before -- it was lots of fun. There was live music, dancing in the streets and a huge sort of beach ball to bat around, plus lots of other stuff I didn't get to see. So cool!

photos: a room with a view

2012-01-07T11:06:00.001+11:00

I am highly enamored of both my view and my new curtains:

quicko: the first frangipani of 2012!

2012-01-06T15:55:00.001+11:00

Isn't it beautiful?!

quicko: trolley

2012-01-05T23:30:00.000+11:00

AKA cart, or shopping cart.

quicko: parenting

2012-01-04T20:40:00.002+11:00

Someone suggested I address the different parenting styles, but I don't really run in the right crowd to know too many differences. Aside from the fact that most Sydney children have way more freedom than I did at their age -- without a car, I had no choice -- because they can take buses everywhere, not just to school.

quicko: american chocolate

2012-01-03T23:15:00.002+11:00

Australians don't like it. Particularly not Hersheys.

photos: the manly mess of humanity

2012-01-02T19:25:00.000+11:00

I have never seen so many people at Manly! Wow! I so felt like a local. Maybe not technically, but way closer than a good 75% of the crowd I bet!

quicko: outwitting sydney transport

2012-01-02T19:16:00.000+11:00

Why do I have photos of the Spit? It is highly photogenic, but why was I there? It is a small triumph in my ever-raging battle of Girl v. Public Transportation and one that I count among my few small victories, so am happy to elaborate for you. So glad you asked.

Today my plan was to go to Manly. (It was also the plan of every other person within a 7 mile radius of Manly, and, frankly, I didn't realize how very high that number was. It's monstrous, but that's the next post. Hang on.) Anyway, I was happily waiting for my bus when I saw it, waved it down, waited patiently while it let a couple out the back door and then watched it drive off. It was, you see, full.

At other times this would be a moment of profound distress, but thankfully the weather was beautiful, I had a book (a very long book) with me and I was running approximately 2 hours ahead of schedule. I cut my losses and waited for the next bus.

However, now this is the part that truly shows the strategy in the battle against Public Transportation, I did not wait for the next 144, but rather the next bus going remotely in the direction of Manly. This happened to be a 169, whose route I happen to know quite well seeing as it used to be my second-best bus when I lived in North Balgowlah. I climbed the notably unfull 169, had a seat to myself and read happily till the Spit. There I dismounted and waited (you see the genius, right?) for the next 144 to pass through there, which it did about 5 minutes later. It was still standing room only, but this time the driver stopped to let me on.

Now granted this was a risk -- he didn't have to let me on -- but any card player has a good feel for risk-taking and I like to think my sense is getting reasonably well developed in these matters. I don't know if it was because a different driver who wasn't so finicky about the rules or because I was alone at the Spit and he figured he could squeeze on one more (like the other driver possibly could have at my original stop, but didn't want to try to play favorites with the half dozen or so wanting to board there) or because I was alone at the Spit and he felt sorry for me because I was standing there doing my best to look pitiful and far from civilization, but somehow or other it worked. I boarded the same bus I had a shot at boarding back at my stop, but which would have quite possibly passed me up there and left me waiting for the next or next or next one. What's more, I got to wait at a much more scenic location where I could take pretty pictures and read my book in idyllic summer afternoon breeze.

All not costing me a cent more because vicious Public Transportation already charges me a hefty wad a week so I can ride as much as I want to any time I want to.

Public Transportation, 0, Kim, 1. Ha!

quicko: girls

2012-01-02T11:54:00.001+11:00

The other day I was talking with a visiting American woman who asked what the biggest differences I'd noticed between American women and Australian women were. I was actually quite stumped. Seeing that I know probably significantly higher proportions of both American and Australian women to men, I really ought to have a seriously good answer.

Aside from Australian girls being less reluctant to "go" in the wild, used to tampons without applicators, somewhat better on the outdoor survival skills and, depending on the girl, generally a bit less creeped out by potentially dead lizards in coffee mugs, I haven't found a sweeping sort of girly generalization to make. A bit more liberal, a bit more accepting of guys not leaving home until they're 30, a bit more interested in tradies (i.e., workmen) perhaps?

There's also the broad categories of being exceptionally well traveled, living in the city they grew up in and not being ridiculously gung-ho about their universities, but those are general culture and apply to the guys as well. I suppose you'd be right to say Australian girls smoke a bit more, drink a lot more and swear a lot more than American girls. Possibly you could argue that American girls are more concerned about body image -- but also have greater reason to be. Plenty of exceptions on all sides of that one, though.

I don't know. Anybody else have any more insightful thoughts?

photos: happy new year!!

2012-01-01T13:31:00.000+11:00

Yay 2012!!!

Following last year's dehydration disaster, I was well set up with 4 1/2 liters of homemade ice tea, tons of water and a friend in the shade with a tent who got there at 11 so I could come at 3:30 instead. We had fun camping out until the others trickled in after 8.

However, seeing as there was so much iced tea to avoid the dehydration disaster, this time we had the public facilities fiasco. Oh dear. I just really, really, really don't do public restrooms and despite friends' best efforts to teach me "discretion," I really just can't. The first trip was traumatic, but I managed to find flushing facilities (Americans of course do not use the "t" word -- it is vulgar!) and survive, though without soap. A quick text to a friend later and handy wipes were on their way. (Four years in Australia has still not taught me to rough it. It is possible to avoid roughing it -- easy, even, usually. Just stay in Sydney!)

Anyway, the second trip was the real horror. The second trip involved waiting in line for about 20 excruciating minutes (the men's line, of course, being nonexistent) only to find that, really, the facilities were simply beyond unacceptable. This led to the wait in a different line for different facilities that looked reasonable -- and ultimately proved to be, 20 more doubled over minutes and 5 missed calls from lost friends later.

Next year: back to dehydration!

Anyway, here are the photos! Unfortunately the fireworks ones really didn't materialize this year, but the display was fantastic. Your other friends will have better photos, though. Otherwise, check out the ones from years past on my blog if you're so inclined!

Happy 2012!!!

photo: sirius (just because he's my favorite of the ferries)

2011-12-31T01:27:00.000+11:00

photos: it was a beautiful day at cremorne point

2011-12-31T01:20:00.000+11:00

cricket

2011-12-30T01:25:00.000+11:00

So a couple weeks ago I was at the pub with some friends who started telling me everything I never wanted to know about cricket, but I pretended I needed great ammunition for my blog partially so as not to hurt their feelings and partially because it was clear there wasn't going to be a conversation about anything besides cricket anyway so I might as well get something out of it.

If you don't like this blog post, it's all their faults.

If you do like it, it's clearly because the writing covers over a multitude of (drat! you can't make "boredom" into a countable noun like this reference requires) boredomnesses.

But again, if you don't, it's not my fault.

Anyway, I have this vague feeling I was coerced into promising the title of this post would be "The Don," but since I don't really do capitalization in my blog post titles that would throw off the rhythm of the blog something dreadful and I get the impression the capitalization was pretty important to them. And also I don't like to be coerced into promising things about my blog, so ha! Uncreative title it is, too!

The reason I'm supposed to call this post "The Don" is because Don Bradman is, quote, the best batsman of all time, end quote. (These boys have a real way with words, let me tell you.) What's more, Don Bradman (I refuse to use the definite article with anyone other than "the Queen" or "the President") had a batting average of 99.94, which was I supremely impressed to discover was that much better than Ivory soap (99.44% pure) until they explained that, technically, it was possible to get higher than 100, at which point they lost me entirely, because I'd been assuminactg he really was that good and it was more or less like an American batting average but it turns out that isn't right at all and, well, you'll have to find your own cricket expert to explain to you why not.

The other thing that's super great about Don Bradman is that after he made his last shot (is that what they call it?) he missed, which was the shot that lost him that really cool mark of being over 100, and so it was, naturally, a very, very, very bad moment at the time and everyone was completely devastated as he walked off the field until they decided that actually it was a great thing because if he'd gotten over a 100, no one would have remembered the exact number, but now everyone remembers 99.94 and it's like, practically Australia's lucky number. And no one would ever have known what Australia's lucky number was if Don Bradman had actually made that final shot.

And before my informants get all up in arms that I've left out this salient detail: Don Bradman was a real sportsman in the sportsmanlike sense of the word. Even when he knew he'd just lost that precious 100 mark, he did not throw a dirty, rotten tantrum on the field, but simply turned and walked off. (This is the part where you're supposed to get goosebumps. Please try to, for their sakes if not mine.)

As a counter to this incredible story that rendered Don Bradman the greatest sportsman in Australian sport history (just realized! Australians use "sport" quite a lot more where Americans would use "athletics" ... or "sportS" at least) even among -- and this is an impressive feat, I am vociferously informed -- those who do not consider cricket their favorite sport but prefer, say, rugby (obviously here I mean rugby union and not rugby league). Everyone thinks of Don Bradman as the greatest -- to the extent that, if I'm re-reading my notes correctly, Australians know where they were the day Don Bradman died, much as Americans recall where they were during the JFK assassination or 9/11. I'm kind of hoping I'm misinterpreting my notes, but Australians really haven't got so many world famous politicians (hate to break it so cavalierly, but it really is true -- Bill Bryson kindly offering to attempt to keep tabs on who the Australian Prime Minister is because, as he puts it, he figures at least one person outside the country should know) so it possibly is correct.

Anyway, I was about to offer the counter story to Don Bradman's great depiction of what "cricket" truly is, in both senses of the common phrase. The story of the guy who wasn't goes like this: it was akin to a game roughly along the lines of the bottom of the 9th of the 7th game of the World Series (it was a Test, which is a 5 day long game, at least if it is a "Test Series 5"), though there was some disagreement as to exactly how major of a Test it was, but regardless, suffice it to say it was a very tense moment. Australia was playing New Zealand. They are arch-rivals, which again proves my rule that the archest of rivalries generally develop between teams/nations/school districts/universities that are most similar (Calvin, I love you, but in the big scheme of things, you're not all that different from (gasp! am I even saying this?!) ... that other school in West Michigan ... Though of course a million times better!).

So it was more of less the bottom of the 9th with 2 strikes already (surely all sports are like baseball, much in the same way as all unusual meat tastes like chicken, right?) and Australia was winning but New Zealand was up to bat and needed only one run to win when Trevor Chappell, who was pitching for Australia, had a brief powwow with his brother, who was also on the team, and then did the utterly unthinkable: he bowled the ball underhanded so that it rolled along the ground instead of soaring through the sky as it was meant to.

Perhaps you have already obtained goosebumps again (of the bad variety, of course) of your own accord here, but it took me awhile to work out what exactly had happened and why exactly it was a bad thing. The boys explained this laboriously to me and I might be able to remember a few pieces of it for you. Basically, it is just Not Done to bowl underhand. It is not even a remote option. It's like throwing the bowling ball instead of rolling it, except completely the opposite. It was so obviously not how you're supposed to do it that they hadn't even written a rule to specify it, but had to after Trevor Chappell did, much like Americans took out that whole unlimited reelection policy after FDR proved you could keep getting elected till you died, because, really, it just. wasn't. cricket. Kind of like they don't write a rule that says your pet parrot isn't allowed to come along and stuff your golf ball down his beak and regurgitate it in the hole to give you a hole in one. It's just obvious that isn't supposed to happen, even notwithstanding the fact you're not legally supposed to be keeping a pet parrot.

Or something like that. I never claimed to have all the finer details of it, but basically what Trevor did was Really Bad and Highly Embarrassing and Very, Very, Very Not Cricket, but not technically against the rules. And so Australia won the game, but a bitter, bitter win it was.

The boys themselves looked sheepish as they told me, almost as if they'd been the ones to do this very, very not cricket thing, but then speedily drew my attention back to Don Bradman and how very, very wonderful and very, very cricket he was and that, really, he was the one I should be blogging about and not that Other Incident.

Aside from those two stories, they told me lots of other stuff about cricket, too, but neither had any concept of starting at the beginning and explaining all the rules to me in any semblance of order, and I don't think they realized how very, very little I actually knew about the sport. Basically, I think if you look at it as a sort of 5-day baseball game played in white outfits you have the general idea, but if it's details you're after, here are the ones they gave me. In the order I got them. And they wonder why I'm still confused about cricket:

--There are three ways to get out in cricket: you can be caught, bowled or stumped. Actually, you can also be run out, which is very similar to but different from being stumped and I know just the guy who'd love to explain that difference to you because he knows it and is very clear on the difference but possibly not so clear that I took legible notes on it. And also LBW means "leg before wicket" (no one bothered to tell me what a wicket was, so I can't tell you either) and it is bad, too. I'm thinking it sounds vaguely like being offsides in football, but seeing as I know roughly as much about football as I do about cricket, I could be wrong on either account.

--Batsman

--Protect the stumps

--Score runs!

--Century

--Duck = bad

--Golden duck = 1st ball = out

--Ritchie Benno wore cream jackets and used to play cricket but is more famous for being a commentator

--wickets (they seem to have come up again; still undefined)

--King pear = 2 golden ducks

--Peter Roebuck

--balls - on top of stumps

--Don Bradman was from Adelaide and then moved to New South Wales. He lived in the 1940s or 50s ish.

--a test goes for five days and each side gets 2 innings (so that's different from baseball, the way the innings work, but they still call them innings which is slightly but not overly confusing) -- in an inning, everyone must get out OR they must declare (maybe you could google this verb if you don't understand it) and it's a draw if they don't finish 2 innings. I learned a bit more about innings, but it's getting late and I can't quite remember it all.

--The Boxing Day Test Match is huge.

--The Flying Burrito Brothers -- Bali. That might have had to do with something else.

--Shane Warne: best spin bowler. Oh, yes. I was supposed to dedicate a paragraph to him, too, because he is very talented. He is the only guy to be the best player of the century while still playing, if that makes sense to you. He bowled the ball of the century to the captain of England, whose name is Mike. It was the first ball in the Ashes, which I have vague recollections of blogging about before. It is the test match between England and Australia and a slightly sore subject in recent years, but not historically. Basically, Shane Warne bowled a ball that went behind the batter's legs, which is just gravitationally very amazing. I don't claim to be up on my physics, either, but it was a monstrously impressive feat of physics, though you'd have to see it on youtube to really get it. So would I.

--Stumping -- bowler bowls and the batsman runs out and I'm in front of line and wicket keeper grabs it and hits stump because batter missed.

--Run out -- hit ball -- run -- partner runs -- fielder -- throws and hits stumps or to someone.

Ah yes, this is the difference between stumping and running out. As I said, I know a guy who can explain it. At length. Stopping him will really be more your difficulty. Good luck. Break a leg. Whatever works. Hopefully it won't take as long as a test series, but don't hold your breath. Oh, and laugh at his jokes. It takes effort, but it makes him happy. Possibly so happy he'll change the subject.

quicko: index cardsI

2011-12-29T01:29:00.000+11:00

After years and years of looking, I have finally found index cards in Australia!! They can be purchased for $5.50 a pack from Humphrey's Newsagency on the Manly Corso. It's about time!

As a side note that might possibly be more important than the actual note, I've been meaning to blog about newsagencies. They are omnipresent in Australia and just considered very, very normal stores -- along the lines of importance of a post office. I don't think we really have an equivalent. Basically they're like convenience stores and offer, say, candy but mainly stock magazines, newspapers, a smattering of cards, bus tickets, gum and various pieces of stationery.

quicko: boxing day

2011-12-28T22:10:00.002+11:00

So it's a bit past Boxing Day now and it's quite possible I mentioned this last year, too, but I haven't got another fascinating tidbit besides extensive notes on cricket I haven't got the wherewithal to make witty tonight. Anyway, the deal with Boxing Day is that it's actually a holiday here -- you know, something more than that funny little bit of writing that always appears on calendars on December 26th that no one ever knows anything about and kind of suspects is British if anything besides an odd typo someone added years ago and no one's worked out how to remove from the universal calendar template. But in Australia it's actually a day off work -- much along the lines of Black Friday* after Thanksgiving -- a general "we know no one's actually up for doing anything the day after a major holiday so let's just all call it quits and not even bother" sort of holiday. It's fantastic, except that Coles was closed when I realized my milk had gone sour over the two (two!) days I'd left it home alone (and it didn't even expire until the 30th! and there was plenty left! I'm convinced milk goes off here faster than it does at home, but I still haven't worked out why).

The other thing about Boxing Day is that it's the start of the famous Sydney to Hobart yacht race, which is kind of cool. I got to watch with binoculars from the roof of my friend's apartment building -- see photos under the actual day, though the zoom on the camera doesn't really work, alas.

Anyway, happy belated Boxing Day!

*I meant to blog about that, too -- so many Australians were asking me about Black Friday this year. It seems that no one had really thought about it much before, but this year the message leaked out to Australia that Americans do something crazy like shop or something on a certain Friday, but why do they call it Black? Its relation to Thanksgiving is tenuous in the Australian mind at best, but they are very curious about it. For anyone uniformed reading, it's basically the day after Thanksgiving when the whole country has off work and there are huge, huge, huge sales and it's a complete zoo to do any shopping, but that doesn't really stop half the country from trying.

photos: the jungle of lavendar bay

2011-12-27T22:40:00.001+11:00

photos: palm and avalon beaches

2011-12-27T22:24:00.002+11:00

photos: gunners barracks

2011-12-27T22:03:00.000+11:00

photos: boxing day

2011-12-26T22:58:00.001+11:00

photos: christmas day!!!

2011-12-26T22:44:00.002+11:00

photos: christmas eve

2011-12-24T23:59:00.000+11:00

Okay, technically these were on Christmas morning, but it was really still Christmas Eve after the "candlelight" (i.e., glowstick) service.

2011-12-24T22:10:00.001+11:00

Merry Christmas!!!

I promise I'll catch up soon ... ish ... :) In the meantime, MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!

quicko: christmas plants

2011-12-23T00:00:00.000+11:00

Trees: much, much smaller here. Not nearly as big a deal. Virtually all fake.

Poinsettias: sold. You can find them and a handful of people seem to realize they're Christmas-y, but they're not exceptionally prevalent.

Pomegranates: haven't seen any. Not sure if you can get them or not.

Holly: haven't seen any.

Wreaths: haven't seen any.

Mistletoe: haven't seen any. Assume people would know what to do with it, if possibly only from the movies.

quicko: christmas traditions

2011-12-22T01:47:00.000+11:00

Although Christmas is huge in Australia, it doesn't have the same extent of Christmas tradition -- or spirit, if you will -- of a northern hemisphere Christmas. It's a very different vibe really. The following are traditions that are major in America -- and not unheard of in Australia, possibly even done, but just not to the same extent, from what I can tell:

--Christmas trees (esp. real ones)
--decorations (inside and outside the house and inside the church)
--Christmas music (ex., Feliz Navidad isn't so big here as in America, go figure)
--Christmas cookies
--gingerbread houses
--caroling
--Christmas cards
--Christmas pageants
--Advent

Thankfully, though, the actual meaning of the holiday -- Jesus' birth -- is definitely celebrated, at least among Christians. In some ways, you could argue that there's more emphasis on His birth without all the additional fuss and trimmings -- and then you could argue on the other side that by making Christmas such a complete and full holiday it adds weight to the significance of His birth in beginning it all. I go back and forth. I miss the fullness of the Christmas season, but appreciate a more direct focus on Jesus.

And besides: my bus was completely decked out for Christmas today. How joyful was that!?

quicko: between a card and a hard place

2011-12-21T08:06:00.002+11:00

I was looking for Christmas cards yesterday and, though I admit to only really scanning two stores, I was distraught to find next to no cards with any sort of Jesus-Mary-Joseph type sentiment behind them. Half couldn't even mention "Christmas." Of the three? cards with genuineness about them, two featured the wise men only. Now the wise men are lovely and part of the story and all -- but surely they're not exactly the highlight! I found one card with a general nativity scene (that thankfully managed to be pretty and sparkly, too!) ... tough times for Christmas in Australia.

quicko: it's begininning to feel a lot like christmas!

2011-12-20T23:59:00.000+11:00

It's funny these days -- it's been relatively gloomy and overcast, and Sydneysiders are, once again, beside themselves.

"Oh, this horrible weather!" they cry. "This is not SUMMER!"

(They are so distressed, in fact, they cannot determine which word requires the most emphasis, which leads it all to come out as a rather mangled moan of despair quite in keeping with their general attitude.)

They claim that it's never felt less like Christmas in their lives because Christmas, everyone knows, is supposed to be sunny! And hot! And bright! And beach-y!

Everyone is supposed to be scorching hot and sweltering in the sun barely able to move enough to re-apply the sunscreen for it to be summer.

It has been raining a bit lately, which is patently not (or is not?) Christmas weather.

I, on the other hand, have been delighted. I've been feeling a bit on the homesick side, and there's nothing like a cloudy sky to make me think snow flurries and sleighs and jingle bells and -- gosh, I find myself thinking of Christmas, how jolly!

Shh, don't tell the Australians!

quicko: off-brand

2011-12-19T20:57:00.000+11:00

Not known in Australia! I spent ages trying to ask the man at Coles (who wasn't exactly fluent at the best of times) if they had any off-brand Tobasco sauce. He didn't have a clue what I was after, and was convinced he'd solved everything by showing me the Tobasco sauce.

Eventually I worked out that "home brand" is the Australian term, though "Coles brand" will suffice if you're in Coles.

ps -- there is no off-brand Tobasco sauce.

photos: carols under the bridge!

2011-12-19T00:05:00.001+11:00

Joy to the world -- the Lord is come!!

public service announcement: LAST CALL FOR CAROLS!!!

2011-12-18T11:05:00.000+11:00

Carols Under the Bridge is TODAY!!! It's a great event under the Sydney Harbour Bridge where everyone can come to sing Christmas carols and celebrate Jesus' birth at Christmas. Festivities kick off about 5, with the carols about 7:30.

Hope to see you there!!

quicko: bauble

2011-12-17T11:00:00.000+11:00

Now this one took me by surprise to see written out -- I guess I'd assumed it was "bubble" or something. It's the ornaments that are clear and spherical on Christmas trees. I'd just call them ornaments. What about you?

review: ides of march

2011-12-16T23:56:00.000+11:00

(possible spoiler alert ...)

So I'd been hearing a lot about this movie -- for the first time in my life, firstly from my Mom. The fact that Mom knew about a movie, who the actor in it was (even if she never had heard of George Clooney before, she managed to impart his name to me, which is really saying something) and told me about it before I'd heard of it was really rather staggering, much as if the world had shifted its 23 or whatever degree tilt to the other direction and the Tower of Pisa was no longer leaning.

She'd written to inform me that Cincinnati was very excited about the upcoming movie because this famous actor was from Cincinnati and many of the scenes were shot there, which promptly sent me to Wikipedia to verify that George Clooney had ever actually lived in Cincinnati, which I was amazed to discover was true. Rumor had it there really were scenes shot there, and I began to get rather excited about the whole prospect of my home town being on screen.

A few people I knew had been to see it and I eagerly asked each if they'd seen Cincinnati in it, and I got a rather muddy, well, um, it was a good movie sort of answer from most of them, which only made me more curious as I hastily tried to describe Fountain Square or Union Terminal.

As it turns out, neither Fountain Square nor Union Terminal is in the movie, though I can attest that it was in Cincinnati. I was so intrigued I made a list of Cincinnati references throughout the movie:

--the Ohio flag is often on display (it is, incidentally, the only American state flag that is not rectangular)
--clippings from both the Dayton Daily News (which I once had an article published in) and the Cincinnati Enquirer (which I have not)
--9th and Vine
--television channels shown are 5, 9 and 12, which is exactly right
--Miami college gear on people in audiences
--Porkopolis
--they drove instead of taking taxis for the most part -- I've never known anyone to take a taxi in Cincinnati
--Bearcats references
--"the other side of the river" references (i.e., the Ohio River divides Kentucky from Ohio)
--much to my embarrassment, a painted "who dey" sign (I think if I were Australian, I'd deem it excessively bogan)
--a background flag that said Cincinnati
--for that matter, they consistently spelled Cincinnati correctly, which is something only people actually from there can be depended on to do consistently
--Lunken Airport -- but really! That is not the Cincinnati airport! Don't worry -- if you come to visit, there is a much bigger, better, nicer airport. Really!
--a reference to Proctor and Gamble (which has its headquarters in Cincinnati)
--Sibcy Cline relators
--513 area code (which, as I scribbled out, caused me a very odd possible aha moment ... did 5/3 bank name itself such because it was spoofing the area code and just tilted the one to the side to make it a slash?? It's the most logical explanation I've ever come up with for its name in any case.)
--the skywalk! About 5th Street
--Cincinnati Bell
--Xavier
--the license plates were clearly Ohioan
--presumably the Oakley Clinic and the Country Oven were real places, but I'm not actually familiar with either
--shots of the city skyline (not Skyline)

As for the movie itself, I actually liked it -- especially the ending. I was slightly preoccupied finding as many references as I could (could you guess?), but the story itself was well told. I thought the title itself was a bit of a spoiler, until I realized that it's only a spoiler if you know the reference. If you don't, well, the ending might be a bit surprising.

I found the story really realistic in many ways -- rather stretched in others, of course, being a movie -- and it had a good bit of discussion material in it to talk through afterwards. It does an excellent job of presenting ethical issues, but doesn't exactly solve them. Which makes it a bit frustrating and a bit of a good movie, I think.

photos: english teachers have the most fun at parties

2011-12-16T00:33:00.001+11:00

quicko: gorgeous harbour + wedding photos

2011-12-15T00:34:00.000+11:00

These photos were not, as you might imagine, taken to show the beauty of the harbour -- in actuality, they were taken as part of a unsuccessful bid to prove to myself that it was possible to walk from one side of the harbour to the other and not take any photos. I was really almost there when what to my wondering eyes did appear but TWO little young brides on that green land down there! This area of Circular Quay is famous for wedding photos, and rightly so, but I found it amusing to find two there simultaneously. It's a bit hard to actually tell from the photos, but look for two flourishes of white surrounded by lots of dark-suited men. Or don't, and just enjoy the beautiful harbour.

public service announcement: CAROLS UNDER THE BRIDGE!

2011-12-14T22:47:00.001+11:00

Guess what!? It's almost time for CAROLS UNDER THE BRIDGE! This is one of the best events of the year -- a chance to sing Christmas carols under the Sydney Harbour Bridge to celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ! There's more info if you click on the link, but in brief:

Carols Under the Bridge (or the official website)
This SUNDAY, December 18
Bradfield Park -- literally right under the Sydney Harbour Bridge (the north side)
Jazz, food and fun (including kids' fun) from 5 pm
Sing-a-long carols from 7:30 pm
Everyone's welcome!!

Hope to see you there!

quicko: hectic holidays, continued

2011-12-13T22:34:00.000+11:00

So the other day I was talking to an Australian friend.

"I'm so tired," he moaned. "I need a holiday."

"But didn't you just say you're going to Argentina for two weeks in February?" I asked.

"Yes," he said, as if explaining something very simple to someone rather slow. "But that's not until February."

"And it's December now," I said.

"Exactly," he said.

"I see," I said. "But didn't you just go to the Cook Islands a couple months ago?"

"That was only a week!" he explained, slowly again. "That does not count as a holiday."

Thankfully I knew better than to mention his recent business trips to China, Sydney and Adelaide, as well as the upcoming one to Malaysia and Singapore.

The poor dear really is tired. Unfortunately, I'm not nearly Australian enough to understand.

quicko: strine

2011-12-12T22:12:00.001+11:00

Australian slang for Australian slang.

quicko: o little town of bethlehem ...

2011-12-11T22:09:00.001+11:00

... what happened to your tune?

The words are the same, but the tune is different!

quicko: asian bogan: an oxymoron

2011-12-10T22:36:00.001+11:00

The other day I asked an Australian what I thought was really a very good question -- one showing an awareness of the nuances of Australian society and what have you. I asked if it were possible for an Asian person to be a bogan.

By the time the laughter had died down, I had gathered that NO -- it is not possible.

photos: the great christmas reunion party!!!

2011-12-10T11:13:00.001+11:00

quicko: party food

2011-12-09T23:59:00.000+11:00

Wedges -- the classic Australian party-at-a-pub food. They were delivered and vanished almost less than momentarily -- you have no idea how hard it was to get a photo without a finger in it!!

review: pippin at sidetrack theatre

2011-12-08T22:58:00.001+11:00

Guys, I have been waiting years to see the musical Pippin on stage.

Now I know that's not a sentence you come across every day, but it really is true. Or was, as I just saw it tonight so should probably put it into the past perfect ... wow, I've been teaching English too long!

Anyway! I was thinking back and I think I must have first picked the CD up from the library when I was going through my phase of listening to every musical the library had (maybe not entirely best classified as a phase, come to think of it). I liked Pippin so much that my best friend bought me the CD for Christmas one year (duly noted that not just did it have cool music; it also had a pink cover) and I have since become more or less fluent in most of the songs. I skip all slow songs on principle (the principle, obviously, being that slow songs are boring), though I do remember being surprised in Pippin that I found almost all the songs pretty catchy. Not quite all, but a way higher proportion that I typically do.

All that to say -- I have been waiting and waiting and waiting to hear of someone -- anyone! -- doing Pippin and no one ever is. Until now!

In case you want to go, let me just give a little plug right now -- you want to go to the Sidetrack Theatre at 142 Addison Road in Marrickville. There's still time, too -- it runs through Saturday, December 17 with performances at 8 pm. There's also 3 pm matinees on the Saturdays. $34 for adults, less for students. Totally worth it.

I'd booked it ages back (okay, a couple weeks ago at least) and then got a promotional email from them offering two free tickets if I could email in the name of the guy playing Pippin first -- so, a quick trip to google later, and we were in business. I didn't hear anything for a few days, but when I did it was to inform me that, YES! I'd won! This was fantastic, though slightly less fantastic in that they couldn't reimburse the ticket I'd already bought. It all ended up great though, because this way two awesome friends were able to come along!

I'm always a little nervous to take friends to the theatre when it's a play I've requested because, well, if it's bad I feel a bit responsible. (Yet another reason why it is totally cool to go to the theatre alone.) Thankfully, though, we found the theatre just fine (it was my second time there -- previously having seen the Fringe show The Local, directed by Mick Hammell) and even made it on time.

Oddly enough, the play started 20 minutes late. This wasn't really an issue, and actually made for a rather welcome change to me rushing in 10 minutes late. Will wonders never cease!

My first slightly harried thoughts (still hoping to please said friends) were, "oh gosh, lots of make up!" However, they quickly faded into just enjoying the show -- comedy tonight! Well, not entirely comedy, but enough of it to keep me happy. (My friends loved it, too -- phew!)

Where can I start though? There's so much to tell you about! I might just make a list -- acting, music, technical elements (set, costuming, etc.), the plot, particular highlights, how it compared to my ideas from the CD and miscellaneous. I think that ought to do it.

As for the acting and singing, I was very impressed. Pippin and the Leading Player, played by Mitchell Lagos and Benjamin Hoetjes, were excellent. Pippin did an amazing job of coming across as fresh-faced, idealistic and innocent, but with real depth. The Leading Player had tremendous energy and brought a lot of fun to the show. The rest of the cast was very company-based and did a great job overall. As with most Australian productions, the cast appeared very "normal," won their way into your heart with the vivacity.

The guy playing the young boy did a great job and provided some good comedy, and the guy playing the step-brother was particularly well-cast. I mean it as a compliment to say he certainly looked the dumb soldiering oaf -- and did well at it.

The music was fantastic -- the musicians were all onstage and incredible. The guy on the keyboard, Andy Peterson, in particular was excellent and managed to direct the ensemble while playing, don't ask me how! All I know is he made a welcome distraction to observe during the slow songs.

No, really, that's all I know about the music. For having played both piano and trumpet for eight years in school I know remarkably little about music. I thought it was fun. What else do you need to know?

As for the technical elements, I thought things came together very well for the most part. The set was sparse, yet very appropriate. They made excellent use of a sheet for a scrim in particular. The costumes I thought were reasonable in concept, yet lacking in their actual execution. They just weren't particularly flattering for the most part, which detracted slightly, but not excessively. The lighting was great and the sound was good, except for the fact that the actors were all wearing huge sound packs on their backs that gave them all a slightly humpbacked appearance. It was rather odd, but presumably necessary for some very scientific reason.

Special mention should go to the choreographer of the song I think of as the "Gentlemen and THEN!" song, though I have a suspicion that's not really what it's called. It's a bit hard to describe, but I'm hoping if I reread this review years later I'll remember how very cool it was.

Another highlight was the drag queen solo by Pippin's grandmother and her entourage. She really brought the house down and I was thrilled to actually be allowed to sing along to the chorus (they made a placard to show everyone the words so we all could). It was magic -- though also led me to wonder if there were any straight men in the cast!

Throughout the whole show, there was incidentally a lot of general coolness going on -- magic, acrobatics, naturally singing and dancing -- in short, just sheer entertainment. I, not surprisingly, ate it up.

One part the CD hadn't entirely prepared me for was the sex presented pastorally. Although I had naturally heard the phrase, either my CD didn't have the musical interlude or I'd skipped over it. Not really sure which, but they actually presented sex presented pastorally. It's also a bit hard to describe, but that was it. It reminded me vaguely of "Can You Feel the Love Tonight?" in The Lion King on stage, but that might just have been because they both made use of body suits. I thought the suits were a bit unfortunate for the girls, but again the concept was actually pretty decent, if not entirely (okay, remotely) appropriate for the under PG-13ers.

In other news, can I just say how cool it was to finally actually see this show on stage? Having only ever heard the songs, I had a pretty decent idea of the story, but lacked certain salient details of, say, who sang which song. That sunshine one for example -- hadn't realized it was the "bad" girl who sang it. Hadn't known anything about a widow and her son, except from vague recollections of a long-past wikipedia adventure. Hadn't got that Pippin would kill Charlemagne, much less that Charlemagne would subsequently resurrect. And really didn't see the ending coming -- I mean, obviously I knew it was on its way, seeing as we were nearing the end of the songs, but I didn't know what it really was or what the moral actually was. And, while I'm obliged to say I don't entirely agree with it all from a theological perspective, I disagree less than I was afraid I might have to halfway through the show. It's really a rather reasonable moral, and one that gives the show a bit more depth than your average musical. Actually, it was a great ending -- it was perfect and just fit and sent a decent message. And of all the boys they could have picked to strip on stage -- they definitely picked the right one!

All things considered, I really can't work out why Pippin isn't done more -- it's a great score with so much potential. And, might I just remind you, it's still playing through December 17 at the Sidetrack Theatre. I might have been the only one, but I thought it deserved a standing ovation.

It's the longest show I've ever seen without an intermission (I thought there was one coming just after "On The Right Track," but nope! Kim was wrong!), but I think it maintains a bit of its magic that way.

And really, it's all about the magic.

PS -- Wow, this show makes me ant to act so much. I'd so love to be on the stage. For various unfortunate reasons, this is not likely in the near future, except for the upcoming Backyard Shakespeare Bash my friend Sharon has very graciously allowed me to have as my birthday present in her spectacular backyard in February. Stay tuned for details. In the meantime, I'll leave you with a list of my favorite facebook status updates as taken from the lyrics of Pippin. (Not that anyone else seems to recognize, much less appreciate, these, but I do. Let's call it a perk of having my own blog!)

Kim ...

... would rather be a crab on a slab at the bottom of the sea.

... wants her life to be something more than long. (And can, incidentally, think of at least three ways to take this phrase. How many can you think of?)

... lives all her life in superlatives!!!

quicko: eeny meeny miny mo

2011-12-07T20:57:00.001+11:00

So I've been informed that this classic children's rhyme is common in Australia -- but instead of "tiger," the Australian version is -- extremely innocently I am vociferously informed -- exceptionally inappropriate by American standards. The emphasis on this particular note is, I am told, the innocence with which Australian children are so very inappropriate. I'll leave you to draw your own conclusions.

quicko: have you got the plot?

2011-12-06T22:55:00.001+11:00

Lost the plot. Such a fad phrase these days. I'm not saying I'm opposed to it -- it's really quite descriptive, and literary-minded to boot. But gosh everyone is saying it. How many plots were there and how have so very many of them run amok? Didn't somebody work out there were only seven major plots? I have sneaking suspicion they've all made off into the night, because none of my friends have any left whatsoever.

quicko: ripper

2011-12-05T00:00:00.000+11:00

Noun, positive, if robust, connotations. I'm finding it tricky to define, but it's been popping up a lot lately, particularly in commercials. Roughly along the lines of "humdinger." Actually, yes, the more I think of it, the more along the lines of "humdinger" I think it is. Let's go with that.

quicko: here

2011-12-04T00:00:00.000+11:00

This is just one I've been noticing a lot lately: here. The pronunciation is just so very Australian -- every time I hear (ha) it, I think, "wow, you're Australian!"

a little mishap

2011-12-03T23:38:00.001+11:00

I've just had a little mishap.

Or potentially a small series of little mishaps punctuated by mildly relevant incidents, but I'll let you call it what you will.

What happened was I saw a cockroach. I really hate cockroaches, so much so so that I'm really rather loathe to actually type out the word because it is gross and disgusting (And also, incidentally, a word I continually forget exists when my students are playing a spelling game that starts c-o-c- and I break in to beg them to please only use polite words and they get very confused because they can't see why "cockroach" is so rude.)

In any event, one of those atrocious insects showed itself dashing madly about my kitchen counter, then hiding (presumably panting its little lungs out) behind a clear blue vase, clearly deluded in its reverie that I could not see it there.

I could, which is why I was shouting, "go away, you miserable, decrepit little beast of atrociousness!" and trying to decide if it would be worth it to smush it with my flip flop on the kitchen counter or just let it scurry away of its own accord.

Thankfully it was just about that point that my friend Katie came into the kitchen and I quickly let her take over the realm of cockroach killery, seeing as she is Australian and tough and good at interacting with wildlife.

Katie managed somehow (it all happened rather fast) to catch the cockroach in a bowl in the sink and fill it with water, thereby beginning to drown the invader. I breathed a sigh of relief, except for the fact there was still a half-dead cockroach in my sink.

"Shall we flush him?" I asked.

"Or throw him out the window," she said, "except you want to wait till he's dead."

"Why?" I asked, thinking the sooner we were rid of him, the better.

"Well, because he might not actually be dead and he might start to move and hit your finger," she said, looking up at me, who'd begun convulsing rather egregiously at the mention of cockroach coinciding with bare skin.

"You understand now," she said, laughing.

So we sat down to chat, and left the cockroach to take his time dying in the sink.

Incidentally (this is one of those mildly relevant incidents, in case you were wondering), Katie had very magnanimously agreed to drink out of my favorite mug, which is the one that formerly had the possibly dead lizard in it, and that I have henceforth been entirely incapable of drinking out of. I told her the whole story and explained that she certainly did not have to drink from the mug, as goodness knows I wasn't, but that if she did, it might pave the way for me to one day be able to again use my favorite mug. She very kindly agreed. I told you she was tough.

Anyway, after she left, I decided it was time to dispose of the cockroach. Throwing him out the window was highly tempting, but I remembered the neighbors beneath us aren't overly fond of us already (something about flushing toilets at night and waking them up), and I was afraid this would do rather permanent damage to our already rocky relationship. I decided to flush him.

It was on the way to the bathroom with the full bowl of water and carcass that I remembered the light in the bathroom is out. It has been out for a couple weeks now, because there has not been a boy around to change it, and I am perfectly happy to shower in the dark until someone avails himself to change my light bulb. I did, however, begin to think that light could prove useful in the disposal of the insect.

Fortunately, light was not exactly required -- though it could potentially have averted the minor crisis that followed. I had the foresight to lift both lids on the toilet, but seeing as that's not a maneuver I regularly perform, I forgot that they don't stay up particularly well. So, what should have been a reasonably painless experience turned tragic when the lids came crashing down, spilling dirty water and dead cockroach all over the floor. Thank goodness I didn't break the bowl.

Somehow or other I managed to get the bowl back to the kitchen and then actually (this deserves tremendous kudos, in my estimation) pick up the carcass with toilet paper and deposit it in the trash. And then wash my hands sixteen times.

So now my hands are clean, but if you'll excuse me, I still have a tragically mired bathroom to clean.

photos: gingerbread houses of 2011

2011-12-02T23:59:00.000+11:00

quicko: christmas tree tidings

2011-12-01T23:48:00.001+11:00

I'm amazed how very little counts as a Christmas tree here. People who have waist-high trees are continually insisting that theirs "counts" -- when they're even fake trees at that! The public display trees are good and very well-sized, but I've yet to encounter a fully sized Christmas tree in a house here.

quicko: calendars

2011-11-30T17:25:00.001+11:00

I'm not sure if this is a new thing that's also been happening in America, but since I've been in Australia it seems that most calendars start with Monday and go through Sunday. I understand this makes it easier to have your weekend all in one geographical place on the calendar, but I still don't really like it. It just feels wrong -- Sunday's the first day of the week, come on!!

quicko: torch

2011-11-29T22:02:00.001+11:00

AKA a flashlight. Every time they're mentioned, though, I still can't help thinking of ancient warriors running into night battles equipped with vast open flames. Amazing what a cell phone will suffice for these days.

quicko: fair is foul

2011-11-28T20:51:00.001+11:00

So now it's been gorgeous weather. Beautiful. Stunning. Glorious, as my mother would say. What are Sydneysiders doing? Complaining. "This weather!" they moan. "Rainy one day, sunny the next."

"It's making me sick," the masses wail.

For goodness sake! What more do you want? It was raining (which, I might point out, you all did not like); now it's sunny. Enjoy what you've got when you've got it! Of course it's unpredictable -- it's the weather, for snowing out loud! (Which it's not!)

photos: happy thanksgiving!!!

2011-11-27T22:53:00.001+11:00

photos: it's not beginning to look a lot like christmas

2011-11-26T23:59:00.000+11:00

photos: the hanging of the christmas wreath

2011-11-26T16:00:00.000+11:00

I'm not sure how easy that looks in the pictures, but trust me. It's not as easy as it looks. Let's just say it involved a tennis ball, a broom, a mop and five people. And lots of and lots super strong special secret hanging stuff. Merry Christmas!

quicko: sceptical

2011-11-25T00:00:00.000+11:00

I am skeptical of the Australian spelling of sceptical.

rain, rain, go away

2011-11-24T00:00:00.000+11:00

It's been raining a lot lately. This is, for Australians, unacceptable. It is unacceptable because this is Australia and everyone knows Bad Weather belongs in Miserable England and Nowhere Near Beautiful, Gorgeous, Sunny Australia. Hence, it is very Out of Character for Beautiful, Gorgeous, Sunny Australia to be so grievously afflicted.

This out of characterization happens, incidentally, annually at this time of year, and biweekly the rest of the year, but Australians are blissfully aware of this, so please don't let the cat out of the bag for them. I'm not sure they could take it in this weather.

Rain really doesn't bother me. I've always liked it and found it calming, which anyone who knows me must surely think of as a remarkably good thing. I also don't like umbrellas. I find them big, bulky, pokey and terribly impractical. Unless it is absolutely pouring ("bucketing down" would be the verb of choice in Australia) and I'm on my way to work or also freezing cold, I'd really rather be without.

Australians, however, do not view rain the same way I do. They view it as tantamount to a personal insult. Not only that, they view it as "miserable," "gross," and "disgusting" weather. This I really don't get. Okay, miserable I grant could be a frame of a mind, but gross and disgusting? Have they really never before encountered, say, manure? Roadkill? Vegemite? These items qualify as gross and disgusting. They are dirty and carry nasty bacteria and could seriously harm you if ingested. Rain is none of that. Rain, on the contrary, cleans things. It washes the city! It's essential for farmers and growing things and all that, too, but overall it is clean.

Acid rain is a different story. Acid rain is nasty and evil and bad. I'd be upset to get drizzled on by it, too, but I have been in Sydney this week and there has been no acid rain here. Not that you'd have known that by the reaction the real rain got, poor dear. Rotten deal, really.

Sydneysiders grumble and complain and mope and whine when there's rain. Everyone stays inside and parties are canceled left, right and center. No one seems to care that the rain is nice, pleasant and beautiful, or even that next week it's going to be boiling hot and muggy and everyone would like nothing better than to jump in the nice, cool ocean which is really in very many ways remarkably similar in chemical composition to the precipitation which has lately been falling from the sky.

If it were 2-week-old snow we were talking about, that got pushed around a Wal-Mart parking lot ten times over and is looking muddy and brown and altogether worse for the wear, I'd understand. But we're not. We're talking clean, lovely, refreshing rain.

It's enough to make Australians pack up and take a clearly much-needed holiday to England.

quicko: how did you find _____?

2011-11-23T00:00:00.000+11:00

A very Australian question. The correct answer is "Great! It was awesome!" or "Yeah, pretty average, actually"; the correct answer is not "Umm, well, they gave us good directions so it was pretty easy ..."

quicko: yeah, ...

2011-11-22T00:00:00.000+11:00

Yeah, ... it's a very common way to begin any -- any -- Australian sentence. Even one ending one word later with "no." ("Yeah ... no.") The yeah admits understanding, and does not necessitate agreement.

quicko: adjective of choice

2011-11-21T00:00:00.000+11:00

Lovely. Everything in Australia is lovely, and particularly the people. Lovely doesn't necessarily mean aesthetically; it usually refers to personality, though can be both. It is one of Australians' favorite adjectives, and a lovely adjective it is, isn't it?

photos: north head

2011-11-20T19:42:00.001+11:00

photos: the lord nelson (historic pub in sydney)

2011-11-20T00:37:00.001+11:00

photos: from observatory hill

2011-11-19T23:59:00.000+11:00

photos: pretty jacarandas!

2011-11-18T14:01:00.001+11:00

quicko: obama in australia

2011-11-18T13:53:00.001+11:00

I caught a snippet of the news the other night and saw President Obama on it. It was a little surreal and reminded me that, if I were in America, I'd see the President on the news all the time. Here it happens of course, but not nearly as regularly.

(He was on the news here because he's visiting for a brief stint. He hasn't looked me up to say hello yet, though.)

photos: street art exhibition on cockatoo island

2011-11-17T23:31:00.001+11:00

(language warning for attentive onlookers ... sorry)

quicko: "sales"

2011-11-17T00:00:00.000+11:00

Australian sales are things of legends. Not because they're ancient or monumental, but because the term "sale" is just so incredibly far from what actually is happening. There are millions of signs proclaiming "sales," but few, if any, of them actually are remarkable. In fact, most sales are remarkable for being unremarkable.

I'm continually blown away by ads promise an amazing 25% off all dresses! 25%! To an American, that's practically standard. Our ears don't really perk up and register "sale" unless it's 50% (acceptable) or 75% -- now that qualifies as amazing. It doesn't happen every day, but it does actually happen. (Have I mentioned how much I love Kohl's?) And it's allowed to use amazing when it does, because 75% qualifies. 25% does not.

Supermarkets are also continually spruiking items evidently meant to be on sale -- but really just not-so-creatively relabeled. 2 for $7.50!! screams an ad for products normally costing $4 apiece. Or 3 for $10 -- when they're $3.30 to begin with. Keeps you on your toes, I suppose, but really. Just give me a sale for goodness sake!

(Oh gosh. Now does that need an apostrophe? It feels like it does (after the last s, obviously. and certainly no additional s nonsense), but it looks a bit funny. I'm leaving it out. Hope you don't mind. Glad we've settled that.)