You never really realize how good you have it until you travel.
There have been so many things that have been huge reality checks for me living overseas. Materially speaking, there were the $35 paperbacks and the $200 bed sheets, but what really got me was dating culture over here. You see, we really do have it made in America.
In America if guy meets girl and said guy is interested -- said guy MAKES A MOVE! On the other side of the puddle however, the senario is very different. Guy meets girl and said guy is interested -- guy does nothing. (Creepy guys and weirdos aside). Instead said guy waits for massive gestures and signs, like billboard huge, from the girl in order to even contemplate making a move, because God forbid they get rejected. This has been a huge source of frustration for me. Especially when I find myself on a second date and I'm getting text messages afterwards where I'm being asked if I like them because they didn't want to make assumptions. HELLO?! We've passed date number one and we were just talking about going on the next one and YOU'RE WONDERING IF I LIKE YOU?! Oh please. I don't have time for that.
The funny thing is that I used to get offended at how women act here. I grew up with guys. I'm used to being around them, conversing with them, etc. If there is a party or gathering of sorts, I'm used to talking to a variety of people, not just women. That is the culture I grew up in. Over here it seems gender roles are very much alive and well.
I remember my first time mingling with people outside of University. I was at an outing and I remember being confused as to why all the men gravitated to one side to talk, (save for a few new couples), and all the women ended up congregated on the other. I even was more surprised when I started up a chat with a guy who I hadn't met yet. I knew he had a girlfriend and regardless it was just a friendly conversation. Yet within minutes of saying hello, the girlfriend was practically peeing on his leg in efforts to mark her territory, and remained there for the duration of our conversation. I remember being grossly offended because where I grew up, you just don't do that. It's considered rude and is only done when you truly feel someone is poaching, which I most certainly was not. Not wanting to jump to conclusions however, I tested out my theory and time and time again and the same result would occur: Women would swoop down on their man the minute a single female was in the vicinity. It was weird to say the least.
But after 6 months of the singles scene and dating men over here, one thing has become apparent. If it is so difficult for men to approach women, let alone for there to be chemistry, and dating to result, no wonder women hover and mark their territory every chance they get! You see, I didn't realize that when people said that America is the land of opportunity, that it extended to dating as well.
Point taken.
Friday, February 20, 2009
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Yet Another Life Lesson
I think I just got punk'd. Honestly. I must have. Because to accept any other explanation for what just happened would mean that these people think I'm stupid and that is one thing I most certainly am not.
So here I am living in my posh new abode in Sydney aka the scene of the roaches, and feeling bad after the laundry list of fix it items I sent them, I didn't want to email a follow up list after I noticed a few other things I had innitially overlooked. You see, I just didn't want to be one of those pain in the ass tenants. (Pardon my francois!) WELL, that was the attitude I had until this morning.
I had put in a maintenance request the night before with administration on the fact that my sink was running slow. You know, slow enough that when I turned on the sink to wash my hands, the entire sink would fill up in a matter of seconds. I figured there must be hair or some derbis in the ubar underneath so all they had to do was come open it up, take whatever is obstructing the draining process out, and voila! All would be back to normal. You see, I have prior experience with this kind of issue since I was a landlord for a few years and had to deal with a number of maintenance calls. But they don't know that, because if they did they wouldn't be pulling a stunt like this.
So here I am, exhausted after a super late night of staying up for no reason, and because I grew accustomed to maintenance being performed while one was sleeping in my previous residence, I got up, let the guy in, and jumped back in bed. Imagine my surpise when two minutes later, the guy is done. I'm thinking wow he's good!Thanks man! But then I got suspicious when he says, 'yeah there was just a little bit of dirt in there.' DIRT?! Hmm.... Suspect! Because last time I checked, the kind of things that usually causes drain to slow is stuff like a big fat hairball! Definitely NOT dirt. Unless of course I had the brilliant idea of emptying a sandbox down the sink... which I have not! So off he goes and curious to witness what this speedy handyman had done, I go to inspect the evidence. Enter Exhibit A: the bucket -- MY bucket that he used without asking, that I was also using to disinfect stuff -- is remarkably clear. JUST clear water. No hairball in sight and certainly no dirt. Exhibit B: (and this one's the kicker). THE SINK IS STILL DRAINING SLOW!!!!
Lesson No. 9 on Things I've Learned The Hard Way?
To prevent ulcers or any other maladies that may befall someone during extreme bouts of anger, be present when there is a maintenance call.
So here I am living in my posh new abode in Sydney aka the scene of the roaches, and feeling bad after the laundry list of fix it items I sent them, I didn't want to email a follow up list after I noticed a few other things I had innitially overlooked. You see, I just didn't want to be one of those pain in the ass tenants. (Pardon my francois!) WELL, that was the attitude I had until this morning.
I had put in a maintenance request the night before with administration on the fact that my sink was running slow. You know, slow enough that when I turned on the sink to wash my hands, the entire sink would fill up in a matter of seconds. I figured there must be hair or some derbis in the ubar underneath so all they had to do was come open it up, take whatever is obstructing the draining process out, and voila! All would be back to normal. You see, I have prior experience with this kind of issue since I was a landlord for a few years and had to deal with a number of maintenance calls. But they don't know that, because if they did they wouldn't be pulling a stunt like this.
So here I am, exhausted after a super late night of staying up for no reason, and because I grew accustomed to maintenance being performed while one was sleeping in my previous residence, I got up, let the guy in, and jumped back in bed. Imagine my surpise when two minutes later, the guy is done. I'm thinking wow he's good!Thanks man! But then I got suspicious when he says, 'yeah there was just a little bit of dirt in there.' DIRT?! Hmm.... Suspect! Because last time I checked, the kind of things that usually causes drain to slow is stuff like a big fat hairball! Definitely NOT dirt. Unless of course I had the brilliant idea of emptying a sandbox down the sink... which I have not! So off he goes and curious to witness what this speedy handyman had done, I go to inspect the evidence. Enter Exhibit A: the bucket -- MY bucket that he used without asking, that I was also using to disinfect stuff -- is remarkably clear. JUST clear water. No hairball in sight and certainly no dirt. Exhibit B: (and this one's the kicker). THE SINK IS STILL DRAINING SLOW!!!!
Lesson No. 9 on Things I've Learned The Hard Way?
To prevent ulcers or any other maladies that may befall someone during extreme bouts of anger, be present when there is a maintenance call.
Saturday, February 7, 2009
My Inner Neat Freak
I think I was excited for all of 24 hours. My room and house were finally bombed for roaches and ants. I was told to be out for six hours so I made the most of it. I left for the day to have lunch with friends and returned to the blissful stench of boric acid... or whatever it is that kills the crawly things. My room and house were bug free so what more could a girl want?
Being a dutiful tenant, I kept doors closed behind me, didn't leave food out, and repeatedly took out the trash when full. So image my surprise when today, a full twenty four hours later, I spy ants, yes ANTS plural, crawling along the walls of THE SECOND FLOOR HALLWAY WHERE I SLEEP. Let me just note a few crucial facts to help illustrate what is wrong with this picture. 1) I live in a two story house. 2) There are no entryways, food sources, etc on the second floor. And most importantly 3) THE COMMON AREAS WERE SUPPOSEDLY BOMBED FOR PESTS! So I'll ask calmly, what oh WHAT could ants be doing ON THE SECOND FLOOR?!!
I am not happy.
Interestingly enough this experience is teaching me a lot about myself. Growing up I was never a particularly neat child. Oh I was organized but neat was not one of the top 100 words one would use to describe me then. My brother tells me that it was rare to see clothes on hangers in my closet as a kid and in my teenage years it wasn't uncommon for my room to resemble the aftermath of an explosion. Don't get me wrong, I hated dirty places and spaces, but I just didn't like the effort it took to be tidy. I didn't see the point in hanging up a coat you're only going to put on again in a few hours. Not a surprisingly dishes and vaccuming were my least favorite chores. I believed that if you're going to do dishes, at least wait until you have a lot of them before you do them. That way you waste less water and time and get more done.
When I moved out in my twenties although my clothes and coats were now on hangers my habits had evolved to what I like to describe as a 'lived in' look. But I still had my messy moments and hated doing dishes. I was even saved from doing the latter thanks to well meaning boyfriends and family members that visited often and would rescue me from them. Don't get me wrong, I washed many dishes in my day. But if I had the option between doing them right away or waiting to have more than two things to wash before I did them, I'd prolong the inevitable.
The transformation came when I moved to Australia and was living in a dorm-like facility. The room was so tiny that should I choose to have a messy day, (a.k.a. when I was running late to a dinner date and left all the clothes I had to try on but decided not to wear all over my room), I didn't have the luxury of leaving them lying around more than a day unless I wanted to kill myself on the way to the bathroom. Or if I didn't feel like making my bed that morning, should I choose to leave it that way, when friends came to visit they would sit on my sheets and on occasion even crawl under the covers with shoes on! What really got me was the time I left my bed undone and a friend who had a really bad cold was visiting and started coughing and decided to use my comforter as a napkin. I learned to make my bed after that and always had tissues handy. But most importantly I learned that the best way to clean a mess is to prevent it from happening. If something was moved or taken out, I learned to put it back as soon as I was done. If there was something I had taken off and was going to use again the next day, it was better to hang it up lest I start a pile, which would then create more work.
All this was a bit annoying but I did it anyway. I didn't embrace it however until I was faced with the prospect of pests. When I moved to the place I'm in now, I immediately went on the preventative strike. If I didn't want to deal with ants, it was better to wash dishes right after I finished using them. If I didn't want them in my food cupboard, it was better to divide and ziplock all my food when I brought it home. If I didn't want to deal with bugs coming into the house, as inconvenient as it may be at a get together, I kept the door to the patio closed at all times.
It was during one such dishwashing however that I remembered my mom famously telling me to wash things as soon as I use them in order to have less work at the end. It used to bother me immensely to have to do that. I always thought that if you slaved away in the kitchen to make your food, you could at least enjoy it, relax, and then clean up the mess. But when recalling my moms words while joyfully performing the exact thing I used to hate, the truth of the phrase in 'The Day the Earth Stood Still,' hit me. "It's only at the brink that people find the will to change. Only at the precipice do we evolve." Who knew my precipice would be roaches?
Being a dutiful tenant, I kept doors closed behind me, didn't leave food out, and repeatedly took out the trash when full. So image my surprise when today, a full twenty four hours later, I spy ants, yes ANTS plural, crawling along the walls of THE SECOND FLOOR HALLWAY WHERE I SLEEP. Let me just note a few crucial facts to help illustrate what is wrong with this picture. 1) I live in a two story house. 2) There are no entryways, food sources, etc on the second floor. And most importantly 3) THE COMMON AREAS WERE SUPPOSEDLY BOMBED FOR PESTS! So I'll ask calmly, what oh WHAT could ants be doing ON THE SECOND FLOOR?!!
I am not happy.
Interestingly enough this experience is teaching me a lot about myself. Growing up I was never a particularly neat child. Oh I was organized but neat was not one of the top 100 words one would use to describe me then. My brother tells me that it was rare to see clothes on hangers in my closet as a kid and in my teenage years it wasn't uncommon for my room to resemble the aftermath of an explosion. Don't get me wrong, I hated dirty places and spaces, but I just didn't like the effort it took to be tidy. I didn't see the point in hanging up a coat you're only going to put on again in a few hours. Not a surprisingly dishes and vaccuming were my least favorite chores. I believed that if you're going to do dishes, at least wait until you have a lot of them before you do them. That way you waste less water and time and get more done.
When I moved out in my twenties although my clothes and coats were now on hangers my habits had evolved to what I like to describe as a 'lived in' look. But I still had my messy moments and hated doing dishes. I was even saved from doing the latter thanks to well meaning boyfriends and family members that visited often and would rescue me from them. Don't get me wrong, I washed many dishes in my day. But if I had the option between doing them right away or waiting to have more than two things to wash before I did them, I'd prolong the inevitable.
The transformation came when I moved to Australia and was living in a dorm-like facility. The room was so tiny that should I choose to have a messy day, (a.k.a. when I was running late to a dinner date and left all the clothes I had to try on but decided not to wear all over my room), I didn't have the luxury of leaving them lying around more than a day unless I wanted to kill myself on the way to the bathroom. Or if I didn't feel like making my bed that morning, should I choose to leave it that way, when friends came to visit they would sit on my sheets and on occasion even crawl under the covers with shoes on! What really got me was the time I left my bed undone and a friend who had a really bad cold was visiting and started coughing and decided to use my comforter as a napkin. I learned to make my bed after that and always had tissues handy. But most importantly I learned that the best way to clean a mess is to prevent it from happening. If something was moved or taken out, I learned to put it back as soon as I was done. If there was something I had taken off and was going to use again the next day, it was better to hang it up lest I start a pile, which would then create more work.
All this was a bit annoying but I did it anyway. I didn't embrace it however until I was faced with the prospect of pests. When I moved to the place I'm in now, I immediately went on the preventative strike. If I didn't want to deal with ants, it was better to wash dishes right after I finished using them. If I didn't want them in my food cupboard, it was better to divide and ziplock all my food when I brought it home. If I didn't want to deal with bugs coming into the house, as inconvenient as it may be at a get together, I kept the door to the patio closed at all times.
It was during one such dishwashing however that I remembered my mom famously telling me to wash things as soon as I use them in order to have less work at the end. It used to bother me immensely to have to do that. I always thought that if you slaved away in the kitchen to make your food, you could at least enjoy it, relax, and then clean up the mess. But when recalling my moms words while joyfully performing the exact thing I used to hate, the truth of the phrase in 'The Day the Earth Stood Still,' hit me. "It's only at the brink that people find the will to change. Only at the precipice do we evolve." Who knew my precipice would be roaches?
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
As If Things Weren't Bad Enough
Yup folks! I officially saw my first flying roach. THEY FLY! As if they weren't bad enough without wings. Ugh! Nasty! So here I was in the middle of cooking dinner and the thing just starts flying. I thank goodness I didn't have any glass or food in my hands because they would been ruined. Thankfully I invested the best 84 cents ever in a fly swatter, now known as the roach smasher, which has officially become my new best friend. Who knew something so cheap would be so priceless?
Roach Count: 3 Team Jessie Smashings: 3
On another note. I am so THANKFUL I live on the west side of the village. I wandered into the east side to visit some friends. (Yes the rat infested side I should be thankful I don't live on). And wow am I glad I don't live there. Not only are those apartments in not so nice condition, but they practically have ivy/shrubs growing in the house because it's so close! No wonder they have rats! The houses are clearly encroaching on the rats paradise! Throw food into the mix and an open doorway, and bam! Home Sweet Hollywood!
Roach Count: 3 Team Jessie Smashings: 3
On another note. I am so THANKFUL I live on the west side of the village. I wandered into the east side to visit some friends. (Yes the rat infested side I should be thankful I don't live on). And wow am I glad I don't live there. Not only are those apartments in not so nice condition, but they practically have ivy/shrubs growing in the house because it's so close! No wonder they have rats! The houses are clearly encroaching on the rats paradise! Throw food into the mix and an open doorway, and bam! Home Sweet Hollywood!
Things I'm Decidedly Not Enjoying About My Apartment/ Australia/ My Life At the Moment
- Flies
- Hairy Spiders
- Roaches - and then being told when reporting them that I should be glad I don't have rats. Umm... excuse me? I JUST MOVED IN and this is NOT sanitary!
- Sloooow internet connection when I'm paying $40 more for turbo speed - I'm sorry but dial up is NOT broadband.
- Tiny ants that get into everything!
- Having a leaky toilet that has supposedly been repaired by an imaginary plumber that never came. And by leaky I don't mean the clean water is leaking.
- Having a sticky rug - that I suspect is from said leaky toilet and then being told that the rug is new. Are those new stains too?! Unbelievable.
- Having to wait two weeks for pest control.
Welcome To Australia
So my first semester in Australia was absolutely amazing! It was exactly what I didn't know I needed til I got here. I spent the first half living in a dorm style living facility, which is the Aussie version of American fraternities/ sororities. I loved every second but in the end the shared bathrooms and level of cleanliness became a deal breaker for me. I had one too many nights of hunting around for a bathroom with toilet paper, or finding a sea of urine or vomit left in the wake of drunken party goers. I applied to move to what is heralded as the best place to live at Macquarie University aka The Village. And after going home for the holidays I returned with high expectations. A house to share with four other roommates, my own CLEAN bathroom, and finally a 'student kitchen' that actually has more than a microwave and fridge... you know like an actual stove? :-) Yes. I was happy to be back after such a cold winter and happy for my first true experience having roommates.
Daydreaming of all the dinner parties I'd have, I put my guitar on my back and luggage in hand and headed to see my new abode. I'll admit that when I first walked in I experienced a moment of horror. I don't know if it was the beach sarong wraps on the ceiling which covered the light fixtures or if it was all the drinking posters on the walls that gave me pause. But all I know is that when I first walked in I thought, "Oh freakin' hell! I'm on the set of Van Wilder. " I half expected to find a snoring frat boy on the couch cluching an empty beer can when I peered into the living room, but no such luck. Since no one was around, I had time to start unpacking before the roommates arrived. Lucky for me it turns out I have fabulous roommates.... at least the two of the four that are currently in residence. And after meeting and talking to them I discovered that the posters and choice of decorations were their efforts to liven up the place. After seeing other apartments that have that sparse, just-moved-in look, our apartment decor has since grown on me.
What has NOT grown on my however are my other new roommates - namely the roaches and ants that are living rent free in my apartment. I've only begun to realize what a privileged life I've lived growing up in a pest/rodent free home. On my first day here, I spent a considerable amount of time trying to squash all the ants I could find. I think I did the job because I haven't found one in my room since. But it was on day two that the real welcome wagon came. I had rented a car for the weekend for moving purposes. On the second day of my arrival some friends and I decided to head into the city for a fun night out. Not wanting to wait for the bus, we decided to take the car to the train station and then head in from there. When we get to the car there is a huge hairy huntsman spider sitting on the roof. (And by huge I mean a good for or five inches wide). Not wanting to get in with it so close to the door we tried to get it off. But wow those suckers could run. Getting the spider off turned out to be a four person effort but in the end we got it on one side of the car while we jumped in on the other, while keeping it in sight. Imagine our surprise when returning from the city that we find the same freaking spider on the car! EXCEPT NOW THE SPIDER IS INSIDE THE CAR! Right behind the drivers seat on the window, no less. Needless to say it took well over an hour to complete operation 'Search and Destroy the Hairy Huntsman.' To top off the fabulous night, when I got home, I moved my laundry hamper in my bathroom only to find my first of two roaches so far. When I reported this to administration the next day, they laughed and asked, "were you scared?"
Only in Australia.
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