You Been a Good 'Ole Wagon...

There's nothing like growing up spoiled to make you suffer when it finally comes time to make it on your own (meaning, buy your own shit when there's no one around to give you new or almost new stuff). I've talked about my beloved 1st car, and well appreciated 2nd car...and my absolute bomb of a 3rd car/1st car I bought on my own. This car I have now is just waiting to get defected. She has a power steering leak that isn't worth fixing. Someone let their dog chew the parking brake handle off. The last owner obviously hit something on the the front passenger side, and kept on going until a big gash was created all the way back to the back door, then filled it in with Bondo and used white spray paint, which rust is now showing through. I think someone poured Coke all over the back seat, and I recently found a half-eaten package of Tic Tacs in the crevice where you fold the back seats down. Today I was asked to take one of the work cars home for a few days....a 4wd diesel. I got home an hour a half ago and I'm still giddy. My husband, the petrol head, still doesn't realise how much we have in common when it comes to loving cars (I love the new and he loves the fast) so he laughed at me when I rang him to talk about my wonderful drive home. Keep your fingers crossed for me I get to keep this one a few days. Regardless, old wagon...sad to say, but you are soon on your way out.

The Novelty of the Day

One of the common irritations of being an expat is being constantly asked, at the beginning of a conversation with a stranger, where one is from. It didn't bother me so much at the start of my days abroad, but at this point in time I'm over it, particularly when it comes from the local checkout person. Yesterday while hubs and I were paying for our groceries, the lady behind the till said..."And where are you folks from?" Stunned out of my flirty discussion with my man about how I'd snuck an extra chocolate bar into the cart, I turned my eyes to our lady with a glance that asked if she had two heads and said, "We're from here." Of course I got a confused look back, so I followed up by pointing to hubs and stating "He's from here. I'm from Chicago...but I live here now." That led to the usual questions about how long I've been here, and whether I like it. I realise people can't help asking, but it seems like just when I'm being most at home, I'm treated like an outsider. It gets on my tits, gives me the shits, and will probably be the same 20 years from now. My mom said the reason the checkout chick knew I was a foreigner was because I'm rude;)

The Path to 'Normalacy'...or...It's Fun to Reflect

(Happy Bday Trang-ster!)

Post-Steve

Just look what my husband has done to me. I read an article many years back about the new STDs, meaning bad habits you acquire as a result of a new relationship. I've had many incarnations over the years. I used to have a shaved head (and a few other unique haircuts). Now, I use a straightener:/ I blame the old man....

Everybody Poops

Australian women are funny about the toilet. I noticed it straight away when we stayed with my in-laws out first few weeks here and they had smelly spray in the loo...even the kids used it. On top of that stuff being carcinogenic, everybody poops, and everyone's poop stinks. In my workplaces here, the toilet spray has been present at all. Some even had automatic sprayers attached to the walls. (I'm not sure if they are motion, time or even smell sensored!) To be fair, Aussie loos (at home) are small; they only contain the toilet as the bathroom next door has the sink and shower and/or bath. And then there is the aspect of water consciousness - dual flush toilets and the lesser amount of water in the bowl. The other week at work, a sign appeared. It stated - "Be consider to your fellow toiler users. Remember to flush and brush!" Now, tell me what is worse, a bit of a skid mark on the bowl, or a brush, next to the toilet, with feaces on it? I would suggest that these women...pull their heads in!

Our Bodies, our Choice

Many years ago, while working for a large non-profit organisation, there was a very heavy woman, some would even say obese. Despite this, she wore short skirts...and she made it work. I mentioned this to a co-worker who was surprised, and seemed disgusted, by my comment. At the time, I was simply thinking that if this woman felt comfortable in that skirt, and it looked no worse on her than it would look on me, at 110 pounds (back then anyway!), why shouldn't she wear the skirt. Others didn't want to be subjected to her thick legs and round bottom, perhaps, but who were they to impose their ideals about weight and dress code on her. I was reminded of this situation in the past weeks while reading about the suggested ban on the burqa in Belgium and then France. The Belgians and French want to make it illegal for women to wear head and facial coverings in public. They, and their supporters, claim this is a common sense approach to terrorism. In France this week, a resolution was passed that calls the wearing of the burqa and similar covering 'contrary to the values of the nation'. It was passed by all lawmakers in the French parliament. This resolution will make the next step easier - to ban the burqa. It amazes me that so many people can't see this for what it is - racial intolerance and anti-immigration sentiment. What will happen if the burqa is banned? Muslims will stop moving to France, and women will be stuck inside. Ultimately, this is a feminist issue, and for as much as the French people get in the streets to protest, I'm surprised French feminists don't rise up right now. Some Muslim women wear the burqa, niqab and hijab because they want to, some because they have to, and some probably do so because their peers do (the same reason I straighten my hair - I saw it on someone else). A few of them might stop wearing it, but many might simply become prisoners in their own homes. So a seemingly progressive, free nation like France is completely ignoring the rights of female citizens/residents in order to remain 'French'. I love to travel, but I consider where my tourist dollars are going, and as much as I love France, I won't heading there anytime soon.

I'm Out of Words

So I've been doing the expat blog thing for the last 5 years or so now. I think I'm out of topics! Have I become a boring old married, settled into my new home/country/marriage with nothing more to write about? It's all work, house repairs and the hope of an occasional trip these days. The blog has dwindled down to a once a month post, on average, this past year. The expat roller coaster has settled down and there's not much to get off my chest, which is a good thing, but not helpful in keeping me active with my writing. Perhaps I should put out a call for topics, although I'd bet I've lost some readers in the past 12 months.

Whoosh Whoosh .. Bang

I just experienced my 1st earthquake. (It was kind of cool.) Initially, I thought it was wind, then after the bang part, I was worried the waterbed was finally about to crash into the basement (we have added water quite a few times). So I sent a text, chatted to a friend on the phone, then I got online and checked Facebook, then Twitter, then online news. It never once occured to me to turn on the TV or radio....

Expat-iversary

On the 3rd April, I celebrated two years of residency in Australia. As mentioned in a previous post, I set the 2 year mark when I first got here as a sort of milestone, committing myself to having patience with the frustrations of living in a new place, with a new husband, being a new homeowner, on the search for the right job. I can say with confidence that at this point in the game, any frustrations I feel are the normal frustrations of a homeowner/wife/professional. The intial annoyances of being an expat have mostly worn off (although I still get irritated when someone at the shops asks me how long I'm in Oz on holidays) and I do feel at home here. I'm still wanting a few major things completed on the house, and a newer car would be nice, but I have the job I want, I've made some friends, and Adelaide is where I want to be.

Enjoying the Silence

I'm glad to be back in Adelaide after a long weekend in Melbourne. Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed the break and a wander around a new place, but one thing I couldn't wait to get away from...was the people. There were just so many of them. Coming from Chicago, I wouldn't have expected this to bother me, but after 2 years in Adelaide, I think I've simply gotten used to a slower pace and fewer crowds. I feel like I can breath again, being back here. This brings me to a topic that's been heavily debated in the news here in Oz lately - population growth. Australia's population is anticipated to grow to 36 million by 2050, heavily due to immigration. Our prime minister is keen to see this happen, stating that we need a "big" Australia. The question is, do we/will we have the infrastructure to support 14 million more people and why do we need that many more people? I'm all in favour of immigration, as long as we aren't taking in people we can't support, and as long as they're going about it the right way. There are boat loads of illegal immigrants showing up in Australian waters, many of whom are being granted some sort of residency. I say, turn them back. I had to pay over $2,000 and provide two folders full of supporting evidence for my spousal visa, to show I had a genuine reason to migrate to Oz. If we intend to purposely grow our population, we need to do it the right way, plan properly, and make sure we can not only support those already here, but any persons coming in the future. Those who immigrate need to have something to bring to Australia, and earn their residency.

We Bin to Mel-Bin

Because it's NOT pronounced Mel-born! All in all, it was lovely to have a weekend away and time together exploring a new place. That being said, I can't recommend Melbourne as an international tourist destination. We here in Adelaide have heaps better sights to see.

For example, we have beaches. They have to do their diving in the CBD.

There's only one TV in Melbourne, and you have to go to Federation Square to watch.
Despite all this, we enjoyed our weekend, taking in the sights.

Made new friends.

Ate heaps of sweets.

Steve enjoyed the artwork.

And I was overjoyed to procure a bottle of watermelon Jarritos on our last day.