Tuesday, February 8, 2011

These are a few of my favorite things.

Aussie slang defined:

  • Geed: Excited.
  • Dobber: A tattle tale.
As we hit the month mark of being in Aussieland, it's inevitable that I've procured a few "favorites". Let me not waste your time with fancy adjectives and descriptive stories; I'll just dive right it. But! Before I begin my blogpost of foreign wonders revealed, here a few words from my jealous boyfriend in a discussion about the land of Australia as a whole:
"...Blah blah blah, flouride, lamb, Vegemite , beer, I'm Australian, look at me mate! I'm so laid back I can barely stay awake."
He's both eloquent and supportive. I can hear the bells...

Anyway:

Favorite number 1: You can wear the same clothes to the beach as you can to a funeral.
  • I love that everyone, despite occasion, profession or time of day, looks like they've just rolled off the beach. Visual: Your hair is disheveled, you're either bra-less (preferred) or you wear a swim suit underneath everything all the time, and you smell of sunny coconuts. I would like to specifically touch on the hair part: If you are someone who I have had contact with, or someone who has seen what I look like if/when I went to class, you'll know that I'm a huge fan of the on-top-of-your-head bun. And that's Australia's favorite hair-do. Because of that bun, I have yet to look like a tourist. It's convenient, it's a timeless style, and it's the only way my hair will stay up when it's not in a dyke braid twirling about as I run down the soccer field.
Favorite number B: Everything is abbreviated regardless of communicative medium.
  • As Katie and I are watching yet another episode of How I Met Your Mother, an always-hated commercial break came up. [For fear that I will start to sweat out of frustration, I'll avoid discussing how horrible Australian commercials are.] During this slew of commercials I heard the snippets of words: Eps, reggos, brekky, agro, ambo, cabbie, crim and lollie. Australians abbreviate everything. English lesson: typically abbreviations are used when writing, as to alleviate the spelling of lengthy words. Rarely do you pronounce the abbreviated words. Words like "etc." or "MGMT" or any of the states abbreviations. You don't say those words, you write them. Abbreviations are designed for efficiency. But in Australia, you get to make up your own abbrevs.I think this coincides with their I'm-on-the-beach-in-my-head dressing habits. If they look and speak like they're drunk on both booze and sunshine, it perpetuates the country's motto of their being "no worries, mate." And it's not like the States, where everyone is saying "totes jeal" or "BFF" or "so presh" like the lazy douchers we are - that crap is and better be a phase. Here, it's used in daily conversation and has been since the birth of this magical land. In case you haven't deciphered what these are, I'll tell you:
    • Eps = Episodes.
    • Reggos = Registrations.
    • Brekky = Breakfast.
    • Agro = Angry.
    • Ambo = Ambulance.
    • Cabbie = Taxi cab.
    • Crim = Criminal.
    • Lollie = Candy.
    • Reggos has been the most ridiculous one to date. And yet, I giggle every time.
Favorite number 3: I don't think they can even spell b-u-t-t-e-r.
  • They cook everything in olive oil. My aunt has a single tub of buttery spread, and it's made from plant seeds. It's not even real butter. I love how healthy Australia is. I haven't seen a single drive-thru upon being here. Which for parking's sake can be a pain in my ass, but after this trip I will no longer complain when Gerry deliberately parks 40 miles away from the entrance of wherever it is we're wanting to go. And the same handful of fast-food restaurants keep reappearing; KFC, McDonald's, Subway and this place called Hungry Jack's. HJ's (hehe) is just Burger King with a gayer name. Same menu, same logo, same cardboard patties. The food here gives Alaska a run for its money as far as purity and freshness goes. If this food were any more pure, even God wouldn't be able to eat it.
Favorite number B: The might not be able to spell b-u-t-t-e-r, but they can definitely spell T-h-a-i. 
  • I don't know why I didn't make this number 1, but I love that there is a Thai restaurant on every single corner. Need a haircut? Sorry, this building is now a Thai restaurant. Petrol station? Nope. Pad Thai station. What? You're bleeding internally? Sorry, all doctors are across the street eating delicious Thai food. And they're all decorated the same, staffed with the same people in it. Literally, it might just be the same Asian family hopping restaurants. I'll never know. But I do know that they hire the youngest member of their family to paint and decorate the shops. Art decorations that are poorly hung, and don't pertain to Thailand whatsoever, crazy colors paired with more crazy colors slathered on the walls, and there's always a random lamp. And well, flies. But it's not about the ambiance, people. What matters most, is that they know how to cook my tofu. So far I've been let down once, but it was a white guy working the Hibachi in a Japanese restaurant. Wrong on all accounts.
And favorite number C: RBTs. 
  • RBTs are Random Breath Tests. This little test is a swift kick of irony. Australians are world renowned for both their partying and their inappropriately chill attitudes. And yet, cops beat the streets with these little babies in hopes of arresting brah after brah. RBTs can be issued whenever, wherever and for whatever reason. Katie and I went for a job down a residential road, and saw a couple police cars pulling people over as they were passing. Each car was issued a Random Breath Test. It's was 11am. On a Tuesday. If the homeland adhered to this policy, the ears of Americans would be bleeding with cougars and their angry alcoholic ex-husbands who want their privacy where privacy is due. So they can drive drunk in peace! RBTs are so pertinent to a police officer's duty, that they've even made a reality show about it. No, it's not like COPS. A) Australia already airs COPS and B) RBTs deal a lot less with prostitution and cockroach infested houses.
Thus far, those are my favorites. I'm sure I'll find more as we continue our laid back, drunken journey. Until then, I can tell you that nowhere on my list of favorites will be a bullet for Vegemite. Or its sister product Cheesymite. 
Barf.