Long Time Gone

I did not die or get lost on a mysterious island with polar bears and smoke monsters on my way back from Australia. I probably should have mentioned that earlier... My main problem was flying out to LA on the worst possible day ever (when Michael Jackson died). Not only did this make me lose the pool on which celebrity would die next (I had my money on you, Stephen Hawking! You let the team down!), it made travel way more difficult. I have impeccable timing. So as always happens to me, I had a very odd time that day trying to get through LAX (the worst airport I have ever been to and now hate with a passion) battling weeping freaks who flew in from all over the world as soon as they heard the news, hoping to go to his funeral. Then on my other flight, a guy had a heart attack and we had to force a landing, causing me to miss the event which was the main reason I was going to Chicago in the first place. I wanted to punch everything, it was truly infuriating.

The reason I haven't updated is not because of a lack of interesting events (far from it), but I've been busy with an internship at a local music magazine. Well, I was until I was wrongfully fired. I won't go into it, because that's unprofessional and bitchy, but let's just say it's up there in crazy boss stories with the time I was fired from the cafe in Brisbane for being a Taurus and not owning a cell phone.

So now I have extra free time for updating blogs and doing freelance work, some links to which I will post here occasionally. One of the things I did for my former internship was photograph Thursday's concert at First Unitarian Church. I had photographed them previously on Warped Tour '06 and was excited to do so again, since they've long been one of my favourite bands and put on an amazing live show. The morning of the show, my boss called to inform me I'll be not only taking live shots, but a portrait of the band too. A few minutes after I got off the phone with him, I literally threw up from nervousness. Gross, yes, but I feel that needs to be part of the story to illustrate how incredibly excited/terrified I was.

We were supposed to do the photo shoot outside the church, but there were swarms of teenage boys waiting outside, so I started taking pictures of them sitting on the steps inside. It was too boring a setting, so I spur of the moment told them to go into the daycare center room. I then instructed them to sit in the tiny kiddie chairs. Yes, I told one of my favourite bands to sit in tiny plastic chairs in a room that spelled like Cheerios and pee. I'm still reeling from the absurdity of it. The resulting photo was fantastic though, and I despise that it was never used in the article. So for the first time ever, here it is, I guarantee there are no other photos of Thursday like this.

Among my other adventures, I traveled with my roommate Katie to Lancaster to interview a band I (at first) knew little about. I will be honest and admit that I originally wanted to interview them when they were on Warped Tour just so I could go to Warped again, but it fell through. When offered to interview them at another time, I decided to go with it since they seemed interesting. Hence the long voyage to downtown Lancaster, an area I had no idea contained any sort of concert venues. I'm very tempted to post the MP3 of our interview, since it's hilarious and the word 'bro!' comes up at least three times a minute. But I sound like a twelve-year-old boy, so I'd rather not put that out into the world, ha. Here's a link to the finished article (go to pages 12 and 13): http://www.origivation.com/issues/origiVation_2009.11.pdf

Due to a mix-up, Katie and I were unable to see that show, but they put us on the guest list for their next show in Philly, which was last week. It was mostly us and tween girls, but we had a blast and made all the teeny-boppers jealous when the guys saw us and ran over to give us hugs and ask how we were, haha. Katie also went up to their one tech (Colton, who I mention briefly in the article) and said, "Hello! I met you when you were sleeping!" She didn't mean it to sound super creepy, but it sort of did, and I died laughing. Katie, you're awesome.

Other highlights of the past few months include dressing up with my other roomie Sean as Bill & Ted from 'Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventure/Bogus Journey.' It was most excellent. Don't have any photos of that yet, but I'll put them up when I do. I had people tell them I was a convincing Keanu Reeves, not sure if I should take that as a compliment or not. Another fun dress-up opportunity was Zombie Prom, which I went to with my fellow zombie obsessed friends Paige and Anne. My favourite part was doing the zombie shuffle into a Wawa afterwards and having a horrified cashier give us weird looks as we demanded "brains! Or pretzellllllllls? Raughhhhh, if you have themmmmm. Thanksssss, aughrawrgahhhhhhhhhh!"

(Anne, me, and Paige)

Apologies again that I haven't been updating. The Awkward American is far from being over, despite the fact I'm no longer abroad. Because even in America, I'm still awkward and American, so the title will always apply. More updates soon! <3

So This is the New Year

So, how about this 2009? It doesn’t seem much different yet, but I always think that. I had a wonderful time in Sydney with my parents over the holidays. Believe me, I’d like to tell you everything we did. But those of you who know my Dad are probably aware how he packs as much sightseeing and activities he can into one vacation, using the guidebook as his personal Bible. If The Book deem it not worthy, thou must not partake and insteadith goeth somewhere involving much wearing down of thine sandals. The bottoms of my feet had bruises on them from walking so much. I practically have hobbit feet, so how I managed to bruise my thick soles is a mystery to me. And then when I said goodbye at the airport, my soul was bruised... Awwww, lame quasi-pun. But I was sad, especially since it was great having them as company again.

Now I’m back to Apartment 404 (which I like to call ‘404 ERROR!’), where I have no idea if I’m the only one still here. The Spanish girl moved out the day I left for Sydney and a lot of the Chinese girl’s stuff is gone. I thought the latter was staying for several more months, so it’s an absolute mystery. At first I was a bit freaked out, thinking maybe she was secretly a spy and had to flee, or maybe she had a heart attack in her room and now there's a dead body in her locked room I won't know about until I start to smell it decomposing. I need either Hercule Poirot or a Worry Hat. All I know is that she took the toaster, which we split the cost for. If I ever see her again, I am filing for custody. She doesn’t even use it, she neglects it and denies it love! *sob* I had to fry my bread this morning, it’s not the saaaame!

Unusual attachments to lost appliances aside, it’s a bit nice having the whole place to myself. I’m free to have my own little dance party in the living room and sell off the books Spanish flatmate left behind. But once again, I miss my Dad’s nerdy jokes and classic Mom statements such as, “Lizards run like a girl” and "You think he's cute?! But he's all... mincey!" Hell, right about now I wouldn’t even mind repeating the night of New Years Eve. It’s my absolute most dreaded of holidays, more than Valentines Day (because with that you at least get candy) and I’ve loathed it for several years. Despite having to stand around for about six hours in a huge crowd (another thing I’m not a fan of) while Dad herded us to ensure we get ‘the best view of the fireworks,’ I was glad to be there with my parental units. That was one of the first things I thought in 2009, along with, “Oh, please don’t start smacking people!”

This was in reference to the two Flavor of Love rejects (one wearing a ‘Sargent Sexy’ pleather getup and the other in a Playboy Bunny type of costume) standing near me who butted their way through the crowd half an hour before midnight and flirted with an old man to secure a place to stand. One woman yelled at them and it was a sass-fest for the rest of the night. It was pretty ridiculous, but then again, in 2008 the first thing I said was, “Hap-AUUUGH!” because my friend Paige tackled me and in 2007 I think I said, “Woo 2006! Wait...” The first thing I actually vocalized in 2009 was singing along to ‘Use Somebody’ by Kings of Leon, which is my idea of a perfect way to celebrate (as I drowned out the sound of “GET OWT MAH FACE, YOU JUST JEALOUS WE’RE SEXY AND NOT SHORT, UGLY YOU! SHUT UP ‘FORE I MAKE YOU MAH FIRST ENEMY OF THE YEAR!”).

Here’s to the ninth anniversary of millions thinking we were all going to die because of a computer error that never happened! Yay.

Makin' mama so proud

A week or so back, I was on the quest for jobs as usual, this time in Fortitude Valley, and I stopped for some lunch in Gloria Jeans (the way better Australian answer to Starbucks). While ordering, I noticed the cashier was staring at me a bit, almost nervously. I began to panic, running through all the things that could be wrong in my mind. Was I obviously sunburnt and didn’t realize? Was a man with a knife standing behind me? Was there a huge bug on my shirt? And yes, I thought them in that order, which shows you how mixed up my priorities are. I noticed she was about to say something and braced for the worst. “I like your sunnies!” she said sheepishly. I thanked her, wondering where that came from and was about to turn away when she continued. “Um, you’re American, right?” I nodded, still confused. “From where abouts?” I gave her my standard answer, “Philadelphia, it’s about two hours from NYC.” She looked really excited by this and I wondered why it was so interesting that I’m American and have cool sunglasses. “NYC,” she asked gingerly, “where your cousin lives?” Holy crap, how does she know I have a cousin there? Before I could ask, she looked at my shocked face and did a little dance. “I knew it! I knew it! You thought nobody would recognize you, but you look so much like him!” she squealed with glee. I had no idea what she meant, but I knew it was too good to pass up, so I played along. We had the following conversation with me completely improvising:

Me: “Really? Man, I never thought we resembled each other at all.”
Crazy girl: “Well, I mean, not exactly, since he’s a boy. But you really have the same hair and nose.”
Me: “What can I say, those are our best traits.”
Crazy girl: “I bet Ben gave you those sunnies. That was the other thing that made me realize it.”
Me: “Actually, no. I bought these myself. But Ben has a similar pair in red.”
Crazy girl: “Shopping with them must be loads of fun, eh?”
Me: “We are complete shopping whores when I go to NYC. Yup, we raid Beacons Closet, Trash & Vaudeville, you name it.”
Crazy girl: “Ooooh! Have you met Kirsten Dunst?”
Me: “Um, no.”
Crazy girl: “So Andrew and her aren’t really dating?”
Me: “Uh, I’m not at liberty to talk about Kirsten.”
Crazy girl: “Sorry! That was wrong of me to ask. I’m just such a big fan of your cousin! And Ben too, obviously. Will you be there tonight?”

And then it all clicked. She was talking about the band MGMT, who were in Brisbane that night. She thought NYC cousin+ similar hair and nose+ nice sunglasses meant I was cousins with Andrew from MGMT. If having the same schnoz and androgynous messy hair style as rock stars from my tri-state area meant we were related, then I have a way bigger and cooler family than I thought. I once met Adam Green briefly after his concert, he was incredibly high and grabbed my hair, saying, “Hey, we’re twinssss.” With crazy girl’s logic, we must have actually been separated at birth, along with several of The Strokes, Joan Jett, and way more NJ emo bands than I’d like to admit I know of.

Another thing that made this strange scenario even funnier to me was that I’ve been told I am the spitting image of other famous musicians, usually males. The only female celebrity I’ve ever been compared to was Claudette Colbert. A classmate’s mother told me that when I was in seventh grade and I had no idea who she was at the time, but now I’m flattered. My own mother, however, loved to point out I looked just like the lead singer of Fall Out Boy circa 2003. My friends even insisted I dress up as him for Halloween (not much of a stretch because I wore boyish clothes anyway) and people did double takes. He’s a lot heavier and slightly balding now, so that comparison no longer stands. Hey, it’s not so bad though. I’d rather be told I look like the girl version of an attractive guy than have someone say, “Are you Janet Reno’s daughter?” That would be rough.

Cousin? Eh, I can sort of see it...

Hot damn, Summer in the City

(Note: I know, I know, I'm supposed to write about Byron Bay. But last night I wrote this following post out of boredom and figured I should use it now.)

I fear I am turning into the local crazy lady. Granted, I’m not as outrageously strange/awesome in appearance as my two favourite home town weirdos, Penny Man and Leprechaun Guy (Penny Man has coins glued to every piece of clothing he wears and according to my Mom, has a habit of surfing for porn on the public library computers. Leprechaun Guy is obviously a small Irish dude with the stereotypical ginger hair and beard who always wears green, rides a bike, and hangs out behind the 7-11, most likely dealing drugs). However, if I continue living my life as I have the past two weeks, I foresee a future of a Winebago in New Jersey, a job as the person who writes descriptions for the absurd products in Sky Mall, and my only companionship from a flatulent Westie named Iggy Pop. Maybe I’ll have a shrine of James Dean or Jim Morrison on my wall to talk to, convinced that if falling in love with a photo of someone from the past worked for the guy in The Terminator, maybe I could have a chance to go back in time and save the world with them. And now having re-read that last sentence, I realize it makes no sense if you haven’t seen the movie. Too darn bad. Now having re-read this entire paragraph thus far, I realize my comma splices are horrible and if my Senior year English teacher reads this, he will bludgeon me with a copy of ‘Strunk and White’ when I return to US soil.

SEE? This is what I have become. No job, TV, or Internet make Danielle a dull and pathetic gal. Allow me to let you into my world by detailing what I did today, which is very similar to what I’ve done the past fourteen days. Warning: The following is still a tad boring, despite me using the best of my self-deprecating wit to make it seem more interesting. If you honestly have better things to do than read this blog, I suggest you go about doing them.

9:00 am to 10:30 am- Alarm rings obnoxiously and I set it for fifteen more minutes several times until I finally give up and decide I should start my day. At least two cups of tea are needed to set things into motion.

11ish am- Got my laptop and seemingly useless stack of resumes in their backpack, hoist on said backpack with sunglasses and headphones on. Commence drudging into the city while listening to The Smiths.

A little past 11ish am- Wave at the old man who feeds the lorikeets in the park everyday and now recognizes me as a regular fellow weirdo.

Noon to 2:00 pm- Go to whichever area in the city I haven’t hit up for job opportunities (I’m running out) and hand out my resumes. When they say, “I don’t know if we’re hiring, but I’ll put this on the manager’s desk for you!” it is code for, “I’m going to throw this out later, but now I’ll pretend I care.” Usually I do this for even longer than two hours, but today is Sunday, so not much is open later than 4 pm.

2:00 pm- Walk to the library still listening to The Smiths. Feel emo. Wonder if it’s bad that I relate to lyrics written by a (now) 50-something British gay man during the ‘80s.

2:10 pm- Go to library and download Youtube videos of shows like The Amazing Race and Nevermind the Buzzcocks to watch back at the flat later that evening. Check out the following books: ‘Candy Girl,’ ‘The Devil in the White City,’ ‘The Romanovs,’ and ‘The Encyclopedia of Saints.’ Get disturbed and judgmental looks from the librarian because these books are about (respectively) a stripper, a serial killer, a bunch of long dead Russian monarchs, and a bunch of long dead Catholics (some of whom were Russian monarchs). I’m sorry I have a varied and eclectic choice of reading material.

3:00 pm to 3:30 pm- Wander around the city aimlessly. Buy honey lemon bubble tea because it’s the closest thing to Wawa Lemonade Iced Tea. Mmmmm.

3:30 pm- Start to walk home, become way too excited to eat dinner and watch a reality show about a bunch of idiots running around Eastern Europe.

4:00 pm- Read ‘Candy Girl’ for a while and realize how awkward it is that my own mother has read this book as well. Then again, we watched Superbad together.

5:30 pm- Make dinner and have the usual once a day chat with my flatmates, which is either about food or our native countries. Tonight it was about both, and the Spanish girl flat out told the Chinese girl that Chinese people eat dogs. The Chinese girl was confused, fortunately wasn’t offended by this slightly racist comment and just said, “No, I don’t think so.” I had no idea what to say, so I blurted out, “I think it’s actually Denmark that eats dog. It’s a delicacy there. I saw it on Quite Interesting, and Steven Fry is never wrong.” They stare at me and we all silently decide we should each go to our own rooms. Our section of the UN, if you will.

6:00 pm- Let the wonderful cheap laughs from The Amazing Race issue forth. I love this show a bit too much. Their cameramen have the best jobs in the world, I think I may have found my calling. Although knowing my luck, I’d be stuck with the obnoxious bickering couple they have every season instead of the token strange underdogs like the Jewish fratboys who lost their shoes in Kazakhstan or last season’s awesome goth couple from Tennessee who had pink hair and constantly said, “OH MAH GOTH!”

7:30 pm- Finish reading ‘Candy Girl’ already and decide to write this post. Wish I could file an application for a life.

Oh, down to the river we ride...

Yet another mistake was pointed out to me (thanks Becky!), so now everyone can comment on my posts. I have no idea why it was set so only people with Blogger accounts could respond. Sorry!

Riverfest is going on all week in the city, but having gone both Friday and Saturday, I'd say the only day anything interesting took place was yesterday. Friday, a group of friends and I just wandered around looking for something to do besides shop and eat food. We passed by Hungry Jacks (what they call Burger King here for some reason) several times throughout the day and the same group of bored looking goth kids were always sitting outside. I had to wonder why this was their choice place to mope. Did Robert Smith get onion rings there once? Maybe some day I'll go over and ask them. More aimless walking in search of a Riverfest event, but the only noteworthy thing that happened was passing Hare Krishnas and being given pamphlets by the Socialist Youth Society. Nothing like being told you should consider a new religion and political party by people on the street!

Back at the flat later that night, I stayed up to finally watch a few hours of Rage. Rage is an uninterrupted six hours of music videos shown late at night on weekends. So clearly, this was a bit like heaven to me.

Haha, look at my happy little face! And please ignore my horrible attempt to grey out my flat's disgusting and ugly sofa set. It looks like someone trash picked it from a crack house. Needless to say, I never sit on it. Anyway, I was so excited to watch full videos that have more than just a band playing in a field or a rapper with some booty-shakin' hos (yeah, I'm looking at you, modern MTV and VH1 when you actually take time off from awful reality shows to screen a few videos). The absolute best one of the night was a song that I've heard before, but never seen the video of. It's called 'Letter from God to Man,' by the British rappers Dan le Sac Vs Scroobius Pip. Believe me, it's outstanding and not really as religious the title implies.

I know it's a bit difficult to understand his accent sometimes, so here are the lyrics. Seriously, I was watching this at around 3 am, on the verge of sobbing. Then it changed to The Kooks and my flatmate walked in to get a glass of water and looked at me weird, wondering why I was so misty-eyed over a bunch of rock stars in tight pants flirting with models.

Riverfest Saturday was a bit more impressive because that night was Riverfire and entirely too many people were walking around. So we opted to spend most of the day in the Science Center and Art Museum. They were both pretty neat, though I was creeped out at the sheer amount of taxidermied animals the Science Center had on display. What made it weirder was that every single one had it's cause of death underneath it. I realize that's so nobody thinks they were killed just to be stuffed, but do I really need to know this poor wombat died from impacted bowels? We waited in ridiculously long lines to get dinner, then at 7 a huge fire-spurting plane flew past way too low, scaring the bejeezus out of me and letting everyone know the fireworks were about to begin.

Unfortunately, I did not get to enjoy the display as much as I'd like to because a third of the crowd were taking pictures. Some using their flash. I wanted to scream, "Put your damn cameras down and enjoy the fireworks! Don't you realize your photos are going to suck anyway?" I was so angry that all these people were taking shots that were of the dark sky and one little green spark, then turning to each other and going, "Oooh, that's a good one!" WATCH THE FIREWORKS! Don't take pictures so you can instantly reminisce about that red heart shaped one and miss two minutes of other fireworks in doing so! I mean, I love to take photos and understand that they want to capture their beauty. But take a few really great pictures if you can, then put the camera away. Taking several bad pictures a minute for the entire half-hour fireworks show is just stupid. Since when did photography become about quantity over quality? Grump, grump, grump. Sorry for the rant, it just really annoyed me that I waited all day and people were ruining the show for me.

Today I slept in and am continuing work on a paper for World History, super exciting stuff! Tomorrow is the start of September, maybe I'll be a bit more interesting in the new month. Hope everyone has a good Labor Day! I won't because I don't get the day off. :[

Where the hell are you, exactly?

Arg, I've been a bit lazy and not updated recently, sorry everyone. I'd like to say I've been busy out going partying and being cool or something. I've actually spent most my nights sitting around watching TV, dumb movies, or Japanese game show clips from Youtube with my flatmates. That's right, I live with a bunch of fellow nerds. Magic Cards, World of Warcroft, constant quoting of 'The Simpsons,' Dungeons and Dragons, one guy is studying the science of lasers... Yup, full-out geekdom in here, yay! There are currently four guys and three girls (counting me) in our flat, we all get along very well, thank goodness. Well, two of the guys rarely leave their rooms, but they're nice when I do have a four second conversation with them and they don't cause any sort of trouble. One gives me a cheery "Good morning!" every time I see him, even if it's 4 pm.

I suppose I should explain the flat, since a lot of people were confused about where I'm living. First of all, my campus isn't actually IN the city, it's in the middle of a forest a few miles from the city. The other day I was sitting on the balcony eating breakfast and two turkeys ran by gobbling at each other. That was pretty odd. My one flatmate also keeps trying to convince me to be warned of the scourge that is 'drop bears.' Which is just something made up to scare foreigners, kind of like our jackalope or snipe. I told him that and he said, "Snipe? Like... Severus?" Hahaha, yeah, in America, Alan Rickman jumps out and attacks tourists, hahaha. Anyway, there are eight people (though we're currently one person less) in a flat sharing the kitchen, bathroom, and lounge area. We each have our own single room going off a hallway that looks like this:

Yes, a tad dodgy looking (to throw in some local slang), but that's Uni for you. That light is burnt out now though, and for some reason it keeps buzzing randomly in the middle of the night despite the fact it's off. The only way to stop it from doing so and keeping you awake all night is to smack it with a broom. We all take turns doing that so the same person doesn't have to get out of bed constantly, kind of like taking care of a crying baby. Er, you don't hit babies with brooms to shut them up though, hopefully. Also, you can't quite see it, but there's an iron burn on the rug from previous inhabitants. Speaking of the wonderful people who used to live here, we keep finding all this weird stuff they left behind. That closet at the end of the hall had a sewing machine from the 1970s in it, a treasure I've since claimed. We also discovered a broken skateboard (good for moving things) and 'Street Fighter II: The Board Game,' which we have yet to play, but I'm super excited to because it looks hella awesome.

I finally went into the actual city (not just the huge weird mall and sprawling Asian markets nearby campus) on Monday for my first day of classes. Half my classes are there, the other half are here at my home campus, which is nice because I get to spend my time in both environments. The city campus has all the artsy types and home campus has all the nerdy types, so either place I'm set to make friends. Granted, there are the "WOOO! I LIKE KEGSTANDS AND METALLICA!" type at both, but those are easy to avoid for the most part. My class was annoyingly short since it's the first week, so I decided to wander around a bit.

This interesting looking path was right outside my lecture building, so of course I followed it. The sculptural enclosure/ plant tamer thing changes gradually as you walk along, I kept staring up at it and almost running into people. Another mistake I keep making is walking on the wrong side of the street. Just like they have opposite car lanes here, Australians walk on the other side, and American me goes along the incorrect way out of habit. I've caught on to looking a different direction when crossing the street, but I always forget to walk to the left. To the left... Everythang you own in a box to the left... Sorry, had to.

Soon alongside the path, there was a cute little stream with a heap of palm trees and other exotic plantlife. And look, a duck! An animal I've seen before in the wild! Believe it or not, this is the first wild animal I've seen in Australia that we have in America too. Not THIS exact duck, I mean the species. They don't even have squirrels or pigeons here! However, I did spot a seagull later on, and of course I yelled "MINE! MINE! MINE!" :]

Continuing on, the creek turned into a little lagoon for kids. Sand, rocks, things to play on in the water... It looked like it belonged in a Disney World resort. "Well that's weird!" I thought, "All this in the middle of the city? But the lagoon was nothing compared to...





The full out man-made beach right next to the lagoon! And I thought Central Park had weird stuff in it! Why they need this in Australia where they can drive half an hour to a real beach is beyond me. Please note the ibis wading in the water there. Somehow, this sacred Egyptian bird made its way over to Australia and they're EVERYWHERE. I saw about five eating Cheetos out of the trash and I thought, "Shouldn't you be mummified? Piss off!" The funny thing is that for a public fake beach in a major city, this was surprisingly clean. If Philly built one, there would be crack vials, needles, and dead bodies in it a week after opening.




The beach with the river and city skyline in the background. I said Chicago before, but this picture makes it look like the start of 'CSI: Miami,' so I may have to change my comparison. Later I saw a guy trying to make a video of himself doing ninja jumps off a nearby flight of stairs with this view in the background. I ruined one of his takes by making a weird face as I went past.


That's all the pictures I took, because after this the walk goes by entirely too many outdoor restaurants and nothing else. Um, what else is new with me, hmmm... I keep having people think I'm Canadian, even other Canadians who should know the difference. Also, the other day I told someone I was from Pennsylvania and they said, "Ooh, what's a Wawa?" I got all excited that they knew that and went on a rant about how amazing Wawas are. Apparently the person only knew that because of the Bloodhound Gang song 'Pennsylvania,' which has a line that goes, "Do you even know what a Wawa is?" At least that's what they got out of that song, because the rest of the lyrics aren't entirely flattering. Damn you, Bloodhound Gang, for being one of the things Australians associate me with. That goes for you too, Bam Margera, cream cheese, and Kobe Bryant! There are hundreds of better things to come from Philadelphia!

I'll leave you with this hilarious video of the latest craze sweeping Oz: