DOOOOOOM!

A tragedy of epic proportions has occurred. (Did I spell that right? I swear my brain is atrophying.) My visa application - my application to stay here in Melbourne as a gainfully employed and non-homeless person - has been turned down. Refused. REJECTED. Because, technically, I guess I'm meant to apply for it before I actually arrive in Australia. And also because they hate Americans, and don't have any guarantees for Americans like they do for Canadians, Britishers, and others from peaceful, non-domineering countries.

Which means I can't legally work here. And while many, many people don't let that stand in their way, I am the daughter of lawyers and I just am not comfortable messing with the Australian Immigration Department. Or whatever it's called in this mean, MEAN country.

However, I can't afford to fly home right now. I could fly home if I had a job, but if I had a job I wouldn't need to fly home. I think I've read a book about this before. . . .

Damn That California State Lotto!

Things are moving in the direction they oughta. . .that is, I have been offered a job and a room in a house and therefore will probably not have to fly home with the proverbial tail between my proverbial legs. Which is good.

The job is at a before- and after-school care place run by the best friend of a good friend I made while traveling. It's not full time, so I'll have to supplement with a retail job or something, probably. Not my idea of fun, but until those lottery payments come through, I have to eat.

Actually, looking at my current beer belly status, I could probably go awhile without eating.

I'm excited about this room. Good price, and un-effing-beatable location. Blocks from the pier and esplanade, blocks from one of the major shopping streets, and there's a tram that goes right past the door. And the roomies seem like they are all that roomies should be; smiley, tidy, social but not pushy.

So, feeling optimistic, excited, hopeful even.

That's The Way!

Well, Kelly has left (booooo), but thanks to my loverly Mummy, it looks like I'll be able to stick around Melbourne for a bit longer (yay!). I am just not yet ready to go back to the old U S of A, although I have flashes of homesickness powerful enough to make me look up airfare online. Kind of like hot flashes.

But, besides Sid and my favorite foods and my sister and my mummy and my jacky and my own bed and my old friends, California holds very little of interest for me right now. I would just have to get a job and a place to live, same as here, but, as my mom quite astutely pointed out, I'd have to do it all with her breathing down my neck and haranguing (yeah, I said HARANGUING) me about the future. Here I only have to balance those things with not having a car and, oh yeah, more or less constant drunkeness. (My name is Otto and I like to get blato!) (That's just for you, Kel, whenever you get home.)

Plus it's fun being the token American, even if my friends like to call Americans "Seppos," short for "septic tanks" because according to them, Americans talk a lot of shit. Which I won't deny- I do talk a lot of shit, but I can back it up. Like all the shit I talk about being able to DRINK ALL OF AUSTRALIA UNDER THE TABLE. The Aussie boys disagree violently, but I notice they declined my invitation to go shot-for-shot against me.

So I've changed my location from "Rayong, Thailand" (which hasn't been true for nearly 2 months anyway) to "Melbourne, Australia." And changed my occupation from "English Teacher" to "Karaoke Singer." Which, yes, I SHAMELESSLY stole from my bro's MySpace page. See this? This is me, TOTALLY WITHOUT SHAME. And singing "I've got friends in low places."

BIG NEWS MOTHERFUCKERS!!

Sorry for the swearing, but really it's necessary. You'll understand in time, my child.

Emilie, my long-suffering European traveling companion, my blushing blonde non-jewelry-wearing, cowboy-boot-sporting, El Toro Bravo-loving, Coor'sJager friend, the organized leg of the Tripod who needs to get her own bed and has only lost a game of Mushroom of Death ONCE, and that was in Amsterdam under extenuating circumstances, IS GETTING EFFING MARRIED!!!

Married, people. Married, as in wedding, rings, cake, booze, crazy uncles doing the electric slide, bridesmaids dresses. Married, as in together forever, as in forsaking all others, as in children and joint checking accounts and a sensible car.

And she deserves happiness more than anyone in the world, and I'm so, so happy for her. And for him, because he's getting a peach of a girl.

Congratulations, you two. You deserve each other, and I mean that as a compliment.

Penguin Suits

Let's see here. . . .still in Australia, still enjoying the H-O-double-T hotties, still drinking everyone except Kelly under the table, still thinking about plunking my world-traveling arse down for a little while. Plus I'm going to Phillip Island to see real life wild penguins today.

Yeah, life is good.

Hottie McAussiesons

Landed in Australia, two days ago now, with a vicious cold thanks to the arctic air conditioning on the plane. But the pure unadulterated joy I feel at correctly spelled menus, food that doesn't require a fire extinguisher, paved streets, and the presence of Mountain Dew would cancel out any illness save maybe bubonic plague. But throw in some macaroni and cheese and I could take the Black Death any day.

We were going to go skydiving today (my second time, Kelly's first), but those pussies claim it's too windy. So we're thinking we might get tattoos instead. You get the nerve up to jump out of an airplane, that's not something you waste. JUST KIDDING MOM!

Kind of.

Despite the fact that I can barely swallow and can't hear myself or anyone else (which makes singing along to the radio even MORE fun), I'm enjoying myself immensely. There are a nearly obscene amount of hot boys here, lots of western food, it isn't 100 degrees, and my bestest buddy is here with me. So far, Australia is agreeing with me.

You'll Be The First To Know

Made it safely out of Cambodia via The World's Bumpiest Road. I caught, like, three feet of air on that one. (And if you got that movie quote, I love you and you love me and let's all kill Bar-arrrr-ney.) Angkor Wat was enormous and amazing and I'm not even going to attempt to describe it right now. It wouldn't work, I know my own limits. Actually that's a blatant lie, I have no limits, I am SUPERGIRL, but even Supergirl cannot describe something when there are just NO WORDS.

I am now on Koh Pha Ngan, which isn't pronounced Faahh Unnggan like it looks, but more like Pawn-yawn. Last night was the world-famous Full Moon Party (my second), and since it coincided with Songkran, the Buddhist New Year, it was epic. Epic on an epic scale. Epic in a Gone With The Wind, Troy, Titanic, AND Lawrence of Arabia kind of way. Songkran is traditionally celebrated with an enormous nationwide water fight, and when potentially lethal amounts of alcohol are served, the results can get. . .well, really, really wet. Went to bed at approximately 6 am this morning, so even though it is now 3:31, it feels like the crack of dawn. However, I am a good and semi-responsible friend, so I've let my Kelstar sleep in while I sweat in the lobby, attempting to figure out how we are going to get back to Bangkok by tomorrow evening, considering everything takes a minimum of 14 hours in Thailand, even popping down the the shop for an US Weekly and a gallon of milk. It's stressful, but I know it will work out because it always does in the end, and also because it would take a far larger army than Thailand employs to keep me from flying to Australia tomorrow.

Kelly and I have been discussing at great length what we want to do when we get back to the States (which for her is Definitely April 26th and for me is Who The Hell Knows, But Possibly April 26th), and with our lives in general. This discussion has been aided with a lot of beer, but as of yet we haven't reached any specific conclusions. I'll keep you updated. For now we are very, very excited to go to Australia and see a new country and, mostly, see lots and lots of Aussie Hottie McHottersons. Hottie McAussiesons. My favorite kind.

Me Love You Short Time

I don't have a lot of time to type this, but I would just like to let everyone know (Mom, Jack, Dad, Julia, not Kelly because she's now here with me, WOO-HOO), that I am safe, happy, healthy, and IN CAMBODIA. Seat-of-the-pants kind of thing that meant a lot of hassle and bribing people to let us over the border, but totally worth it because today we saw Angkor Wat and really, I'd bribe just about anyone to see that, including and not limited to the Pope, the Dalai Lama, Steven Spielberg, and that fat guy from Seinfeld. Worth every sweaty, currency-confused, damn-this-suitcase-is-heavy moment.

Proudly Taking Laziness To A Whole New Level

I haven't actually managed to leave Koh Chang yet. . .although I've tried several times to go to Cambodia, an excess of sun and snorkeling and, oh yeah, al-kee-hawl, has managed to tie me to this beach as effectively as actual ropes. Unbreakable nylon polymer ropes. Of drunkeness.

I feel badly about this- I mean, what kind of a person passes up a chance to see the most beautiful and famous temple compound in the world in favor of drinking vodka out of a beach bucket and spending entire afternoons discussing if it's possible to be one's own grandfather?

I'll tell you, actually- MY KIND OF PERSON.

Because I am having so bloody much fun and meeting so many cool amigos that I just could not force myself to leave. Angkor Wat is like, really old, and therefore will most likely be there for a bit longer. So don't judge me. Because even if I'm uncultured and lazy and whatnot, I am having more fun than you!

(And oh yeah, there's a bartender/divemaster here who is the hottest guy I have ever actually met in person. In fact, hotter than many guys I have never met but only ogled on movie screens. And he speaks 4 languages. How am I supposed to turn my back on THAT??)