When life gets you down...

... buy a new pair of shoes.

I'm back at home. No plan. No job. Not exactly the best situation I've gotten myself into here.

But still, I'm lucky: I have wonderful friends and family. As my new source on happiness points out "relationships are the key to happiness". My local gang are doing their part to help me correct my body clock ASAP so I can start dealing with the more pressing matters at hand (it is very difficult to focus when in the middle of whatever you are doing you drift off with a blank gaze in your eye. It is even more difficult for the people trying to follow your side of the conversation).

I decided that my blog will become a tool to keep me active. There are plenty of interesting things to do around the Hudson Valley and I'm sure you are all very interested in learning about them. I loosely call it "investigating".

For instance, today I "investigated" the Macy's shoe department at the Danbury mall just over the border in Connecticut. (I'm starting small). I can give you the name of a fabulous sales clerk who, by the end of our 2 hour shopping spree, I wanted to take out to lunch. (No really: go see Ayesha.) Anyone who can deal with my extended family and keep smiling is ok in my book. Though I sense she was holding back her true sense of style when I said, "Show me something you like." Despite her earlier revealed love of funky shoes, she showed me a several uninspiring styles before I realized I was on my own. It could have been my disheveled appearance that swayed her assumption in my tastes (I swear it was an OK hair style when I left in the morning, but when I got home I realized I'd been walking around all day looking as if I hadn't combed my hair in ages... this is actually a disappointingly common occurrence... shouldn't an adult have learned how to tame one's hair by the age of 30??!!... I have a few months left. Hair product recommendations welcome).

Two new pair of shoes later (gifted to me by my aforementioned wonderful family for last Christmas and birthday while I was out traipsing downtown Geelong and the Great Barrier reef, respectively), I was feeling like a new woman. Life's downs be damned! I now owned a brilliant pair of oft coveted F-me boots. Nothing could get me down.

Until 3pm when I felt like curling up on Cheesecake Factory's floor, which we also investigated thoroughly - the factory, not the floor. For those of you not in the "know", it is expected that you take dessert (always cheesecake) to go. I have a piece of seasonal pumpkin pecan - pecan pie with a layer of pumpkin cheesecake - hiding in the back the fridge, safe from my sister's prying eyes. Treats stand a Buckley's chance if she gets a whiff of them. She wouldn't even save me a bite, the little devil. But anyway...

What to investigate next? I just so happen to have plans with a friend who (like many) is so glad I'm back. She's taking me out to dinner to celebrate. Perfect time to wear my new awesome boots!

We went to Billy Joe's Ribworks on the Newburg waterfront, where I enjoyed my 3rd Sam Adams since my return... not Seasonal Sam, true, beautiful, wonderfully American Sam Adams Lager. Her's is a pina colada, for those interested.

Catching up got in the way so we didn't do much actual investigating. But on first glance I can say the Ribworks is not an unwelcome change from Front Street Bar and Grille to which drinkers of all quantities frequented since before-I-can-remember. Although, the new clientele, at least the dinner set, seem rather less diverse. We left just as the party was getting started, but still, we toasted to being out on a Saturday night. A disappointingly uncommon occurrence.

I should mention that our friend - also our waitress - neatly dropped that she'd already picked up the check leaving us both stunned as she flitted off to take an order. No one saw that one coming. But thanks!

And on that bombshell, it's time to say good night.

Hm... that might be copyrighted... all credits to the funny guys on Top Gear (UK, not the American one... they aren't even close).

Amendment

It occurs to me, long after the thing is done, that my blog is missing a lot of the good stuff. I did this in the TCI too. Shame really, the stories in my head are so much richer than the ones on the net.

On the flight home I'm reading The Geography of Bliss by NPR correspondent Eric Wiener (another book written by a journalist - my new favorite genre.) The gist is that lucky Eric gets to investigate the happy places of the world. Though, to be fair, he also visits Moldova, supposedly the least happy country on earth. It does sound rather depressing. Not rather - it sounds exactly like a destitute, troubled, and forgotten former Soviet republic. But the rest is pretty focused on happiness; what it means, how to quantify it, and why ping pong balls are necessary to Bangkok's happiness factor.

One part in particular spoke to me: something called "cultural fit". Some people have profound moments, Eric explains, where they realize they would be happier in places other than where they are born (he doesn't mention it, but I notice all the stories he cites are from Westerners). In the journalist world, these folks are referred to as having "gone native". (p. 179)

Interesting aside: An American, on hearing that 90% of Bhutanese who study abroad return to Bhutan even though they have "seen what they are missing" (enjoy a more Westernized life, as it were) commented: "Now, why would they do a thing like that?" (p. 90) For an American ex-pat living in one of the happiest countries on earth, that seems like a sad statement - the poor dear is clearly missing out on all that happy.

My point is, I realized I've never documented some of my proudest "fit" moments in Australia. When I got my Victorian driver's license, for instance, I felt like I'd officially arrived.

More instances: My computer's power cord needs a converter... in the US. I don't watch sports but I love watching Aussie footy. Heck, I don't gamble, but I put money down on that last game. Every encounter with a New Jersey driver has me desperately wishing to just get back "home" - a term I now use interchangeably for separate continents, but in this case refers to a place where road safety is a national priority and completely manageable because there are only 2.2 million people to monitor.

Someone had told me in the TCI they thought I'd gone native, so maybe it's just the "when in Rome" mentality, but ever since I saw that rhinoceros beetle in Cairns 3 years ago, my fascination for Australia has grown.

AND I could go on and on about my fundamentally non-western view of the land. I don't know any indigenous people in the US ... not anyone close to their roots, anyway... but that's the majority of who I know in Australia. It skews my view in very interesting ways that I should have dissected in a blog long ago. One of the first things I knew about Melbourne is where the sacred sites stand.

I hold little love for Sydney and as I flew in today I caught myself rather viciously thinking that it was a town of unappreciative (and anti-Melbourne) folk who don't deserve to inhabit the beautiful patch of land they were lucky enough to take over. I thought a similar thing flying into LA. Imagine those majestic hills without the straight, non-native tree lined suburbia cutting across it. How often do we think of the "before" of our native lands? Before us.

But I digress (is there really a point here anyway?). All I wanted to point out is that I'm not done with this country. At the hot springs the other day we met a group of hostel jumpers listing off their incredibly interesting and ambitious travel plans. How jealous was I?! Their Aussie time was just beginning, and mine was nearly done. There were so many things I hadn't done yet. The young travelers commiserated, having only been 2 weeks in the country and still awed by Aussie awesomeness (still a paradise).

"Don't worry," I told them, "I'll be back."

They seemed surprised. Maybe they'd agree with Eric who pointed out, "Our time abroad is supposed to be a fling. Nothing more." (p.178)

But sometimes, a place just fits.

Good bye

Well, we (I) are off home indefinitely, but not before saying a fond farewell to all the favorites: chicken flavored chips, expertly made coffee, Fat Yak Lager, burger with the lot, the beach, footy, friends, and the luxuries of Melbourne. 

Yay for hot springs. This is quite possible the best thing I've experienced in the Melbourne area. Though the penguins were a close second. 

 But mostly, we'll be missing the beaches.

Meat for Dinner

Yesterday the nation stopped to watch the footy grand finals. The local champions - the Geelong Cats took on the Yankee-type Collingwood Magpies.

The Cats had a near perfect season and were not going to let the arrogant 'Pies steal their glory. I was so sure of the outcome I put money down on the game (something I never do, because I almost always lose when I gamble).

It was a close game, but we came out on top. In the TCI we'd visit the casino with the idea that if we won, we'd buy a treat, perhaps a ridiculously overpriced bottle of wine or a couple juicy steaks. Last night our treat was celebrating with the Geelong supporters all over town. Ah, victory is sweet.

http://au.eurosport.com/australian-football/geelong-cats-victorious_sto2972795/story.shtml

Werribee Zoo

In between the finals games this weekend (and there are plenty of them: national, state and local footy, and rugby which I am considerably less familiar with), I managed to escape long enough to finally visit the Werribee Open Range Zoo just 30 minutes up the highway. I forgot my camera (a trend lately! - no proof of the footy-end-of-season party either :(  ) but I've borrowed the one at right so you can get a taste of my favorite part of the day.

The Werribee Zoo has a unique open range area where the animals wander in relative freedom. The public (as part of admission) is toured around in buses to get a peek at the unconstrained habits of giraffes, rhinos, hippos, and various antelopes and gazelles. It was pretty cool and there were a few moments when I was jealous of the tour guides.... and the tours they guide. I've never heard of a "touch the animals" tour in the US, have you?

photo from: http://www.welcome2australia.com.au/victoria/werribee/

Images of Home

My family lives up and down the northeast coast so my month-long visit itinerary hit some of the best late summer vacation spots. I don't have pictures from all my adventures, but here's a pleasant sampling:

A couple days before Hurricane Irene I went up to Maine to visit my dear cousins. Now, Irene was hitting dry land as a category 2, which means by the time it got up to us it would be category 1 at best. That's a couple days without power and some downed trees. I wasn't worried and I didn't change my travel plans. 

The calm before the storm.

Then, this time actually paying attention to the newscast, I saw a tiny little footnote that maybe should have been bigger: 8-9 feet of water surge. Oh, so that's why everyone is in a panic. I changed my travel plans and stayed in Maine to weather to storm. 

We did, as expected, lose power, even though the storm had died down and moved inland. After the brunt of the storm passed we escaped the dark house and non-flushing toilets by going to see the waves. We took a ridiculous amount of pictures.

 

 Very impressive, Mother Nature! 

My next stop was to visit the grandparents and co in New Jersey. It just so happened that my aunt and uncle had planned their annual trip to Ocean City that week. This is the only picture I have from the beach:

But I did have my camera handy for the birthday party.

 

She turned 3!

 Aren't they cute! 

It's a lie. 

I love them all, but the four of them combined are a force of nature to shame Irene.

 The adults also had fun. Uncle Gary surprise attacked Mom-Mom:

Who's counter attack failed miserably,

Uncle Gary wins! 

When the fun in Jersey was done, I jumped across the Delaware to visit my very good friend in Pennsylvania who became a new parent just a couple weeks before. I have a really great picture of my pre-baby visit, but I don't think she'd speak to me again if I put it on the internet. How about this one instead:

 How adorable.

A couple of days and 2 sleepless nights later I finished the circuit home to tour some very happy newly weds around the Hudson Valley. We traversed the new walking bridge - formerly the only rail line across the river, converted for the 400th anniversary of Hudson's trip up the river. I failed left and right to recollect interesting facts about the River and it's history. "I feel the ship was named something to do with moons... wait, that doesn't make sense... oh! there on the sign - the Half Moon. I was so close!"

We ate lunch just under the bridge at the Mayor's favorite resturant (I didn't know this before we ... actually, Patricia... pointed it on the menu as one of the establishment's fun facts.)

 

Then we tortured the poor new groom with our American and related social history lessons as we toured the grounds of FDR's childhood home.

We also decided that since we pay taxes we shouldn't feel awkward about making ourselves at home. It is a national PARK after all.

Then Patricia and I did that thing where we talk about period architecture or whatever terribly interesting subject comes to mind.

Not everyone in our company appreciated this, spawning this inspired piece of photography:

And that was it! Two days later I was on an uneventful flight back to Australia - I only went to the wrong airport (only in NY, I think, will you hear "oh, I've done that" and have a new itinerary offered without another thought.) and stood in an unnecessary immigration line causing me to nearly miss my connection to Melbourne. Easy as pie.

I'd just like to take this moment to thank all the babies on the long flight who did NOT cry (exorbitantly) and that nice couple who decided to move to another row leaving me 3 seats to myself by the window on a 15 hour flight.

Thanks.

No really: thanks.

Far distant lands

I used to wonder how those princesses of old dealt with up and being married off to princes in far off lands.

I think I'm beginning to get an idea.

Return flight on Tuesday and after another bout of time travel I'll arrive home on Thursday morning.