Sydney, Australia archives

7.23.2003 // Volume 1
Posted at 9:52 AM

Close Personal Friends of Jeremy, Alrighty, this appears to be the beginning of a long and beautiful friendship...or maybe just a long and beautiful email. This is Jeremy Ebersole reporting from Sydney, Australia. This is the beginning of a series of emails I will be sending out about all the noteworthy happenings for me over here in Australia. I don't know how often I'll get to send them out, but when I do, they'll be chock full of awesomeness. In fact, I don't even know if it's legal to have so much awesomeness in one email. I must apologize in advance for the impersonal nature of my letters. As you know, I am all about the personal interaction and all, but with so many wonderful people out there interested in my goings on, it's just impossible for me to do too many personal letters. If I did, I'd spend all my time writing and have nothing to write about! You are still loved. So it begins... This is going to be a long letter. Go ahead, scroll down and see how long it is. Yeah that's right. It just keeps going and going and going, and just when you thought you were done...yeah it keeps going. But guess what? It will also be super-cool and possibly even gnarly man. I promise to keep you entertained throughout the length of the letter. If not feel free to come over here and beat me up. For real though, I'll keep this piece full of humor to make it worth your while. Don't feel you need to read it all. If you do, you'll laugh, cry, and shout for joy, but if you don't you'll have more free time to sit around on your lazy bum wishing you were here. I could theoretically make it shorter, but then you'd miss out on so much. Do what you will, as long as you enjoy. So let me start from the beginning. Sydney is far away. It really is about as far from the U.S. as you can get. I'm talking far out man. My journey began in our nation's capitol where I flew all the way out to 110 degree Phoenix. That was the last warm weather I'd see, but let me tell you about that flight. Interestingly enough, it was about as enjoyable as sitting through an entire John Mayer concert. I'd never actually gotten motion sickness on a plane until then. It was way uncool. But I got there. Then I moved over one terminal and hopped a plane to LA. From LA, I made the 13.5 hour trip across the Pacific Ocean. To tell you the truth, it was not bad at all. QANTAS airlines are super flight providers. The whole crew had awesome Australian accents. They are so hot. They were really really nice too. We had little TVs in the seat in front of us where we could watch like 12 first run movies and a couple TV channels or play video games. Unfortunately, the games weren't working, so I have that to look forward to on the way back. They even had a Jamiroquai concert form Italy! And, this plane was mondo big. It had two stories and 10 seats across. Reminded me of "The Wedding Singer." So they gave us all this free stuff, too. We got a bag of snacks with Cheese-Its. That's right, Cheese-Its. Rock on. And they gave us this bag with a little toothbrush and toothpaste, an eye guard thing to make it dark, a pair of socks (?), and a lanyard. How cool is that? It was awesome. I was even able to sleep a little. I didn't end up going to bed till 5:00am Eastern Time. In your face all you people who say I go to bed early. It was really weird though, because when you fly that far, you have to stretch and walk around every now and then so your blood doesn't clot and swell up and make you dead. Lovely, huh? So I set my watch alarm every so often to wake up and walk around. It was fun. Crazy trip, but we made it safely at 7:30am Aussy time. They are all mixed up over here. If you've never been to England or Australia or one of the other British wannabes, you've never had the privilege of seeing backwards cars. The steering wheels are on the right, minivan doors are on the left, and they drive on the left. No matter how weird you think it is, you never know till you see it. Every time I go somewhere, I expect cars to come flying right at us. And I still wonder since they drive on the left side, when they're passing people or going up stair and stuff, do they do it on the left like we do it on the right? And guess what? It's cold here. I'm not sure exactly how cold cause everything's in Celsius, but it's cold like whoa, no doubt. Fall type weather I guess. It's their winter though so I can only imagine summer. The college I'm at is a nice little place. Let me clarify...they call their dorms (or residence halls as they are properly called), well they call them colleges and they've got a whole governing body and everything. It's a totally separate entity from the university. The college is called Dunmore Lang College. It has a new part made out of dungeon-like brink and a super sweet new part that's all colorful and has balconies and stuff. I'm in the old part. My room is like a prison cell. It's tiny, let me tell you, but they're single rooms so when you think about it it's not that bad. It's interesting to not have a computer or TV or stereo in there, but I'll manage. The walls are all brown brick. Real weird looking, like it should be outside. No insulation, no nothing, just brick. But they are carpeted. The university I'm at is called Macquarie University. It's not technically in downtown Sydney, but a suburb called North Ryde. It's about a 20 minute drive into the city. Anyway, some more points about the bathroom. I miss water pressure. The sink faucets come down like a waterfall, but the showers are just a little trickle. I can't even feel it coming out when I'm cleaning my golden locks. Also, get this, remember righty tighty lefty loosey? Not here. It's backwards. And the sinks really do drain backwards. (We have a sink in our rooms too. I'm not sure why. And we have a water heater. I'm not sure why.) The toilets however don't really drain. They just kinda fall out. This water gushes from the top of the bowl and just wastes whatever you left in there; no spinning at all. And I found out coed floor also means coed bathrooms. When we got here, we met this guy named Oli. You already know he's cool right. We walk in the door after flying for a zillion hours and this psycho kid starts raving about how awesome it is here and how he's been here three weeks and it changed his life, and he never ever stopped talking. But he turned out to be alright. Very excitable guy. We went to this mall then that's right across the street. Now I'm not a fan of malls, but this place was hoppin. It's up there with OpryMills, I'm tellin ya. Super hip and trendy. They have this store called The Big W. It's totally a Wal-Mart in disguise. Same smiley face and everything. Totally weird. And they do this really awesome thing here with their tax. They include it in the price. So when it says something costs $10, you walk out paying $10. There's no extra spare change to worry about. You always know what you're paying. What a novel idea! Listen up U.S.! They don't tip people here either. Waiters get paid a flat rate so they don't need tips . It's like they were thinking, hey let's make a system that makes sense and see what happens. It's awesome. Later that night we went to this bar/restaurant called The Ranch. All the cool people go there. They served $20 octopus. I got myself some fine potato wedges instead. The wedge never fails me. It was interesting in the bar cause they were watching rugby and going nuts over it like we go nuts over football or something. We watched a real rugby game too. It is weird to the max. They pick people up by their shorts and you can't let the ball touch the ground. It's like a combination of football and soccer. All this took place as I was listening to an enlightening conversation about all the random girls these Australians had been with. I guess toe people are everywhere. But word is the ladies love American boys. Especially our accents. Weird. That night I slept for the first time in days. I slept 11 hours, and it was good. The next day I did stuff and then actually went into the city. Beautiful. We weren't there long, and it gets dark really early, but we saw it baby. We were there. It was awesome. I never knew a bridge could be so magnificent. The Opera House was awesome. Did you know it's actually three buildings? Doesn't it look like one in the pictures? There was this spot in the Royal Botanical Gardens (they still think they're British here) where everything was so beautiful. You could see the whole city. It was awesome. And all the while I was thinking about Finding Nemo and realizing it took place right there. You can go out on these rocks in the harbour that would totally be roped off if they were in the States. I was out on this far rock and all of a sudden the surf just jumped up and soaked me. It was the coolest thing ever. So then we got locked out of the park and had to walk 950 miles, er I mean kilometres, back into the city, and while we were walking these bats just flew over us. Real giant bats, and they just kept coming for like 15 minutes! It was sweet. Finally, today we went to the gym and found this game called real tennis. It's indoor tennis with tiny rackets (or racquets). This cool guy we met gave us a random lesson, and it was really neat. There's only six courts in Australia, and a few in the U.S. at really prestigious places. Anyway, a few more random observations about Australian culture from the past three days. The coolest thing for me so far is the wildlife here. The animals here are isolated so they can't get anywhere else. Everything is totally different. There are these tropical birds flying around like sparrows. It is really neat. The only animal here we have in the States are pigeons so far. And pigeons rock hardcore. Also we have palm trees right beside evergreen trees. It's like the best of both worlds. Now the people are an interesting bunch. Very laid back party animals. Every other word must be a swear word and I haven't met a person yet who isn't an alcoholic. It's strange, though. They live and breath to drink but they're really cool about it. If you don't drink they think it's totally cool and even respect it. Never force you to do it. And, they'll never think of drinking before they drive. They really do have strong accents too. The language is the same, but the slang is totally different. So that's the end of letter number one. Look forward to the rest. I get my classes soon I think. I've heard everything from they're a piece of cake to it's impossible to pass them. College here is a real luxury apparently so it's pretty tough. Only 13% of people go to college I think. But, I don't think I'll be able to have IM here, because they don't have it on the computers and they get mad if you download software, but we'll see. I have contact info too. I would absolutely love to get mail or a phone call from each and every one of you. My address is : Jeremy Ebersole Dunmore Lang College P.O. Box 150 North Ryde, NSW Australia 1670 My phone number is 612 9856 1325. Yeah there's a lot of digits. You need a country code too for Australia; I'm not sure what it is. Go buy yourself a calling card and give me a ring. You guys are all super awesome, and I miss you a bunch. It's a crazy world over here, and I wish you were here with me. Until next time, hold it down in the States. Next time you hear from me, I'll be a full 20 years old! G'day, Jeremy If you received this and you're thinking, what is this garbage cluttering up my inbox and taking up my time, and you wish to removed from my email list, send me an email telling me why you have time to answer my emails but you don't have time to read them and then list the names of the three Hanson brothers in order from youngest to oldest and where they are now and I'll take you off.

8.1.2003 // Volume 2
Posted at 9:39 PM

Hey, hey, welcome to the new and improved Life and Times of Jeremy Ebersole. Same product, now in a convenient new easy to use location. I was told about the benefits of this website by a friend of mine, and decided to employ it instead of sending out mass enormous emails. (Thanks to everyone who read the last letter and emailed me back, by the way.) This way, if for some reason you're a loser, you don't actually have to read my letter. Alternatively, in the past, you may have seen the big long email and thought, "Man, I'm never going to have time to read this." Then you'd just let it sit there and never have time, then they'd keep piling up and you'd never ever read them. This way, you'll have them all in one convenient location so if you're lazy, you can just wait and let all these entries pile up until right before I come home when you read them all at once so you can feel like lived 4 months in a few hours. But I digress. Well, a lot has happened since whenever the last time I sent an email was. I can't even begin to remember it all, but I'll remember the important things I wrote down, which according to logic would be the most important...except the things I wrote down but don't remember what they mean. I hate that. Well, I've been through quite a range of emotions lately. I was totally convinced that culture shock was not going to happen to me, but here I am at a computer on a Friday night staring at a computer screen. (Interesting that we were wild every night of the week, total craziness, and on Friday it's dead here. See, I still don't understand the culture.) I'll start with some general observations this time. I have decided on a classification for Australian culture. I have decided that Australia has a "rock & roll culture." By this I mean that the entire culture lives by the ideals of rock & roll. Little kids, college students, grown adults, all rock & roll. They rock & roll all night and party ev-ery day, really. Except tonight. Really though, every night something is going on. Classes, jobs, they're nothing, it's just having fun. That's about the only way I can explain it. At one point I also doubted the existence of any kind of morality, but I'm slowly starting to see it seem through. It was discouraging at first. See, here, they make fun of you if they really like you, so the entire basis of a relationship is making fun of one another. It's weird. We're all going to come back to the States and everyone will think we're jerks cause we're making fun of our best friends all the time. One cool thing though, we have a ping-pong table and they have this amazing thing going where they leave the paddles and ball just sitting on the table...and nobody steals them. What a novel concept for people to realize that no one benefits from stealing a ping-pong paddle. So I had a birthday, and I'm actually 20, not 29, but you already knew that. There was a big party at the campus bar that night with a live band and all for the Study Abroad and exchange students. I know they were all really there for me though. It was slightly memorable. Even more memorable was that night when I plugged in my alarm clock for the first time. It worked al right for a minute then there was a little flickering and a small explosion followed by smoke coming out of the top. At that point I knew my favorite alarm clock was literally toast. It is very sad; we have had many good years together. I used an adaptor, but apparently my clock was just too much man for that little plug to handle. Rest in peace. The next day we had orientation. It had a rugby theme so I had no idea what was going on. Rugby is like football except you don't throw the ball, you just toss it, like a lateral. In fact, I don't think they really have any sports here where you throw the ball. It's all about kicking and running in Australia. We had some Aboriginal dancers perform for us. It was cool, especially the emu dance. Just picture it. We also got our class schedules that day. That is a situation we need not get into. Let us just say that I think the entire planet would benefit from a Communications degree with some classes in organization, because effective communication is not a strong point for too many people. When there is a problem to be dealt with, "No worries" is not the answer I'm looking for. While on my kick, I'll tell you about our "Scavenger Hunt" the next day. Back at good old Etown, we had a scavenger hunt with the Peer Mentors, where we walked around our tiny campus with cameras provided to us and took pictures of ourselves doing crazy stuff. It was fun and free. Free is not a vocabulary word here. First, we are 45 minutes late because no one tells us the last bus to get where we need to go leaves like 4 hours before we have to be there. So we get dropped off on the far side of the Harbour Bridge and have to walk across. This is not your grandparents' bridge, folks, this is your big boy. It was fun but it was quite a hike. Of course we had to cross the bridge again to actually do the hunt. But we didn't actually participate in the hunt. Why? This hunt was absolutely ludicrous, no it was ridiculous what they wanted us to do. We had to have our own camera (no one told us that), we had to develop the film, and we had to buy things...lots of things. To do everything on the scavenger hunt I calculated would have cost our group of four $310.50. Hmmm, trip or useless junk? So we just walked around and I bought souvenirs. Also, three of the items on the list were physically impossible to accomplish (ex. Picture of your group fraternizing with Rupert Murdoch). The next day provides me with another good story. We went to a sporting event. The important part however is the lies. What lies? Well one sentence spoken to us contained a Guinness world record five lies. That's right, five lies in one sentence. "To get to the rugby game on Sunday, you need to go to the bus stop by the International Office and get on the bus to Epping Station for $.70 an be there by 11:30." 1)The bus stop by the International Office did not have buses that went to Epping Station. 2) When we found the right stop, we discovered that the buses didn't run on Sundays. 3)We managed to find a bus anyway that cost $1.50. 4)We arrived at Epping at 11:31 and they had already left. 5)The event was an Aussy rules football game, not rugby. So much deception. It was fun anyway. Aussy rules is a crazy game. I can't explain in except that it is a combination of football, soccer, basketball, and rugby. Also, after the game they had free buses taking us home. They informed us of this, of course, after we had already purchased return train tickets. Determined to use the ticket I paid for, my posse and I hit up FOX Studios while we there. We found this awesome shirt that I have been looking for forever, but it was $60. That's about $45 American for a t-shirt, so I passed. Then on the way back, we had one of those nightmare moments where you get to the train just as it is pulling away, literally, so we had to wait a while for another one. Fun day. Wednesday night, we had a cruise for our college (residence hall). It was wild crazy nuts amazing. SOO much fun, I can't even tell you. It was freezing out on the harbour, but the dance floor was heatin up like it ain't no thang. There's more to that story, but it's not for you to hear. Finally, we had a really fancy dinner last night. It was the first thing we've got for free since we've been here. Three courses, with an ungodly amount of time between each course. There was also the Slave Auction, and Student Life, a nifty group I found on campus that are noteworthy, but more importantly are classes, which came along to add a little ying to our yang. Classes here are different. You have lectures with hundreds of people twice a week and one tutorial with only about 20 people once a week. The lectures are given by different people all the time. It is not cool. I feel like the lecturers (they're really not teachers) do it more for themselves than for us. I guess that's what it's like at all big universities though. For shame. Also, classes here are much harder. They are tougher and require a lot of extra work and research. Which brings me to an emphatic point. Elizabethtown College and I are no longer on friendly terms. At Etown, a full time student is 12 credits and 17 is the max. Here a full time student is 9 credits and 14 is max. Seems obvious where this is going doesn't it? Study Abroad students only take 3 classes; most regular students only take 3 classes. Taking more than 3 classes effectively kills any life outside of burying your head in a textbook. Leave it to Etown to effectively ruin my life once again. We, being myself, the 10 other Etown students here, and the lady in charge of Study Abroad here, informed Etown that 3 credit classes transfer back to the States as 4 credits because of the difficulty difference. Etown, however, refuses to listen to rationality and sensibility, and insists that we must take 4 classes to retain our scholarship money. So now I am enrolled in the equivalent of 17 credits. Do not be surprised if I do not write any more because I am too busy studying to do anything else. If I do write, it will sound something like this, "Nothing has happened the last few weeks because I have spent every waking moment studying. I'm sure Australia is a nice place. I really wish I could actually see it. Thanks Etown." This is not a good situation. If you want to continue reading my exciting accounts, I encourage you to inundate Etown with letters, emails, and phone calls telling them to get their heads out of their you-know-what and get their act together. I am in 4 classes now. They are all interesting, but all at the same time they present incredibly difficulty. Australian Perspectives is a class about Australia, duh. Intro to Aboriginal Studies is self-explanatory. I also have Mind, Meaning, & Metaphysics, a philosophy class, and Passion, Rebellion, and Identity in Popular Music. Word. So that's my life. It is good now, though tonight was really boring and I really have no motivation to take 4 classes. Hopefully, I will have a spare moment sometime in the future to write again. Australia is awesome, assuming I can see it instead of just reading about it. Thanks, you're beautiful. Jeremy

8.17.2003 // Volume 3
Posted at 3:00 PM

Look who's back...back again...Jeremy's back...tell a friend. That's right ladies and fellas, it's time once again for an exciting, action-packed installment of The Life and Times of Jeremy Ebersole. This issue is bursting at the seams with information that is sure to titillate all six of your senses. So let's do this like Brutus, pop, lock and ready to roll... Well, it's really been a while since I updated ya'll last, at least to me it has. I'm sure you've all been waiting expectantly for this new issue counting down the minutes until it came, biting your fingernails, and nervously anticipating my return like a thief in the night. Hopefully your life in the past few weeks has been as thrilling as mine. Today's story begins at the Taronga Zoo. I don't think I told you about this in my last letter. It's a zoo right in Sydney, just a little northeast of the CBD across the harbour. We had to take a ferry to get there which was really cool. Seeing the city from the water gives you a cool perspective. Now this zoo is in a very odd location kind of just stuck on the side of a hill. You actually have to ride a little sky lift up the mountain to get to the top. The zoo was pretty typical of most zoos. They had the Aussy animals of course, though. I had my first sighting of a Tasmanian devil (it was sleeping; I thought they were supposed to be vicious killers), a wombat, and the almighty platypus which was much smaller than I thought. The cool part was the view. Since it was on a side of a big hill right by the harbour, you could easily look out and see the city in the distance. So I have all these crazy pictures of giraffes and stuff with a big city in the background. It was good times. That night we had a pub crawl. They call them pubs. Now when I think of a pub I think of Irish with giant mugs of beer overflowing and big hairy drunk men singing loudly. Well these pubs had lots of beer but not as many hairy men, cause you know it's cool to shave your hair of now cause all the Abercrombie guys do it. Anyway, we just went from bar to bar in downtown Sydney and I watched and laughed as everyone threw away their hard-earned money on obscure drinks they didn't remember the names of in the morning. But in all, it was an entertaining night. I got to know some people a little better. It's actually funny to look back at all the people I didn't know then that I know so well now. We went in the world's nicest McDonald's with two stories, big Ronald statues, and chandeliers, found out that a kebab doesn't have to be of the shish variety, and discovered that if the word Scruffy is in the name of a bar, it's a good idea to stay away. We also saw Keith Urban. For the uninitiated, Keith is a country music star from Australia; he's about the only one. We were just standing in this one bar and we saw this guy, and this girl who was diggin my vibe told me she thought it was Keith. And I was all like, no way, he's a big star, and this guys just standing here all quiet looking around like a loser. Well it turns out his quietness wasn't cause he was a loser but because he's a rock star who's like, man I'm a rock star, I don't need to talk to be cool. Then he hit on a bunch of our American girls and followed us to the next bar, proving once and for all that there isn't a single Australian man, no matter how rich and famous, whose main goal in life isn't to snag an American girl and thus totally destroy any hope I have of making those lovely ladies see that home is where the heart is. For shame, Keith, for shame. And so ends one day. The nest day, I made a last minute trip to the Blue Mountains, part of the Great Dividing Range that cuts the Australian coast of from the Outback. They are blue because there are a lot of eucalyptus trees there and they give off some blue mist or something. Anyway, it was a real last minute thing, but it turned out to be really cool. It was there that I discovered the joy of Solo, a beverage that tasted like Sprite with a kick, but a good kick. It's lemon soda the way it was meant to be made, with actual lemons. We spent the beginning of the day at these botanic gardens which were really cool and pretty, and they had trees from all over the world. I got some quality pictures there. Then we went on to see a waterfall that included a trek down a mountain and the inevitable trek back up. It was really gorgeous and reminded me of my trip to Ecuador with all the hiking and the water and whatnot. The day ended with a "dinner" which consisted of tea and scones. See Australia still has this thing where they worship England so they do strange things like pay $10 to drink a cup of tea and eat a piece of bread. It was quite a cultural experience and the sunset was phenomenal. I'm becoming quite a fan of sunsets. I think I'd like to travel the world for the rest of my life with the sole purpose of seeing where I can find the best sunset. Maybe someday I will wake up early enough to see a sunrise. I bet those are nice too. Move on to Wednesday. We had another Harbour Cruise this night. It was exactly the same as the other one, except this one was just for international students instead of for my dorm. "International students" roughly translates to "Americans." Also, not a lot of my posse attended the event, since they figured a once in a lifetime harbour cruise was best done only once. I also noticed a difference between cultures. While drunk Australians are really loud and obnoxious, drunk Americans are really loud, obnoxious, and stupid. It did well to remind me why I left my beloved homeland. Ah, so much to talk about. The nest night was the Junior High Disco night. See in Australia, everyone wears school uniforms all throughout school from the time they're old enough to pick their own clothes they are told they're not allowed to and forced to wear stodgy fancy-pants sweaters and ties. So this night was a dance to hearken back to those days. We looked like a Britney Spears video gone bad. There was the inevitable men dressed as women, which no matter how many times it's done the exact same way, never ceases to convince people it's the funniest thing ever. They had this trance DJ up there to and he had all these crazy dancers on stage; it was nuts. The girls didn't like it cause they couldn't shake their booty, but the Aussy guys used the opportunity to enlighten them on the joys of other kinds of music while encouraging them to make out with them. Once again I had to watch as my potentials were grabbed, groped, and screwed every which way way wasted reject guys. So the next night, I decided to join a group of friends on a journey into the "red light district" of Sydney. I intended the trip to be a cultural experience, since I had never visited such a place and needed a reminder of why I hate strip clubs so much. Well, I still hate strip clubs even though we never made it there, because we were stopped by, guess who, drunk Aussy guys. They just keep bringing me joy and happiness. We did go to a cool bar that used to be a Planet Hollywood, which is of course the colest place on Earth. I left early though for various reasons and went into a few day depression of sorts that I snapped out of when the time was right. The next night was a good one. My good companion Joe is down here in Australia with me, and his family came to visit. I also am proud to call them posse, so it was tight to see them. I also saw American Pie 3, which despite my expectations was really amazingly good. And although I am honored that some of you think I look like Finch, his taste in women still disgusts me. The next day there was a big rugby game between us and the rival colleges. I don't know much of what happened except about half the team left limping or on a stretcher. They use this excuse to say rugby is harder than football, but maybe they just can't stay sober long enough to realize that they'd save themselves some pain if they'd just slap on some pads. What a week. So now it's the next Tuesday. I discovered a baseball club on campus and was especially excited that it even existed here. I thought cricket had taken over. So I joined the club for practice that night and despite being sore afterwards, really had a great time. I played baseball for eons, and then for reasons best left unsaid, my career was systematically ended. It was all for the best, but it good to be out there again, tossing around the old cork. Now the fun begins. We all know there can be no real fun without the man. That's right, my old Etown roommate Justin and his buddy Jan came down and visited me for a few days. I never imagined the old chap could be so much fun. They arrived Thursday afternoon and we discussed how I could best hide them from the powers that be who want to make guests pay to stay and eat the regurgitated cat byproduct they call food here. That night we went to our local Uni bar and somehow these fellas, with their irresistible charm and good looks, made some of the ladies finally see that I may also have irresistible charm and good looks. Or at least that's the theory. Which brings us to our first unforgettable quote from Jan: "Everybody needs a guy who looks like Harry Potter and a German around." To which I say, "Amen." The next night we saw this Australian movie Take Away. It was about fast food, and it made me really hungry. To quench my appetite, I decided to shake my grove thing a little. Finally, on Saturday, we went down into the city and did some shopping. I found an amazing pair of Converse Chuck Taylor All-Stars for $40 Australian. Let me tell you, these things redefine Old School. Normal Chucks are like 1970s Old School. These babies are circa 1940s Old School. I am now the principal of the Old School. All you retro wannabes out there can report directly to my office for any consultation. We also saw another cool sunset with the Opera House and the bridge in the foreground. As we walked back to the train station to send the boys on their way, we found Hyde Park, whose motto is, "Someone please fall in love inside me right now. Now. Do it." Seriously, this was about the most romantic place on Earth. Straight out of the movies. I could hold in my passion for Justin no longer. No, no, just kidding. But this place was so cool. It had a big fountain and this long wide brick pathway with huge trees lining the sides, and the trees formed a canopy over the path and they had white lights on them...wow. It was good. So us lovelorn travelers just walked and pondered the meaning Fate had for the 7 (no exaggeration) weddings we saw on the walk back. Was it a cruel joke, or perhaps an inspiration to go on? So that's it. I have my first paper to write now for my Aboriginal studies class. We have to critically evaluate one of the stories we read. The only issue is that they are all factual stories. You can't critically evaluate fact. But here I go, trying anyway. One last observation. They have an interesting bird here. I don't know what it is called, but I call it a cow bird. They look like parrots, all white with a pink patch on their belly. But they act exactly like cows. They are always in big packs, and I never see them fly. They just hobble around and graze on the grass. Never in the trees, always just grazing. It's hilarious. So good job reader. You have completed the long and entertaining journey. Leave me a message if you want; I'll be sure to read it. There may possibly be some exciting news to report next time...or quite possibly not. We'll just have to wait and see. Jeremy

9.1.2003 // Volume 4
Posted at 5:19 PM

Well, it hasn’t been that long since my last update, but so much has happened that I thought I just had to fill you all in. And as you all know and can tell by my incessantly long ramblings, these things are as much a journal exercise for me as they are a life update for you, this one more than any. But I promise this won’t be as long as the last ones; there’s just not as much to talk about. So flash back to about two weeks ago. It’s Tuesday morning and I go to the computer lab to check my email. (Be thankful that you can sit in your room and read this! I can’t wait to have my own computer again. If you would like to buy me a new Apple laptop, feel free to do so.) Anyway, all us BCA people (the Study Abroad group I came with) got an email telling us about an awesome free trip they had arranged for us. This after we begged them to give us something. Granted it looked to be an amazing trip; it was 3 days in Melbourne with all kinds of cool stuff thrown in. Retail value: $329 Australian. There were just two catches. 1) The trip left Thursday night. This is cool; I went to NYC once on a night’s notice and it was the best time of my life so three whole days is nothing. However… 2) Friday was the date of our college ball that I had had a ticket for for weeks. The college ball is like prom I suppose except without dates and lots more drinking. It’s like everyone just takes beer as their date. Or possibly they’re all too drunk to get a date or remember that they needed a date. So we had a problem. I could either stick with the ball and take a $200 voucher or go on the trip and eat the $70 ball ticket. In my infinite blind wisdom I decided to go to the ball. I didn’t have a suit with me, so on Thursday, I decided to go thrift store suit shopping. I had seen many cool suits at thrift stores in the past, but they always seem to be too small. My obesity continued to catch up to me on this trip as well. I found the shop with ease and found the absolute perfect ‘70s light green suit jacket and pants. I made my way into the changing room right in the middle of the store with the blinds that didn’t shut al the way and tried on that bad boy. The jacket was beautiful. The pants were the perfect length. Buttoning them, however, proved impossible. I never thought I would ever be too fat for anything. Just think of the size of the person who must have owned this suit in the past. My height, but skinnier. I know it’s frightening. I decided I would like to be able to exhale at the ball so I had to opt for a nice $15 Jacket instead and matched it with my dress pants that I already had. Did you know there are different shades of black? I always thought black was black, but oh no, it is not. So the ball came and went. It went a little like this: 300 people completely wasted and me. I need to become a psychologist. I’ve learned more about humanity from watching people here than I would ever need to teach a class. The food service was slow, the DJ was crap, the sound system was weak, and ‘80s New Wave dominated the air waves. The entire Michael Jackson collection does not need to be played at a college ball. In all it was a rousing failure, but everyone else was too drunk to notice, proving that it doesn’t matter what actually happens, if people are drunk, they will think they had fun. Moral lesson learned that would take too much time and pain to explain: Bros before hos. Next a quick note on Australian culture. We all know that Australian English is terrified of the letter ‘z.’ Example: recognize is recognize, etc. Z is only used to start words, but the funny thing is they don’t even call it Z like ‘zee,’ they pronounce it ‘zed’ like bed. Psycho. Now into last week. Wednesday I began my break dancing class. Yes you may gawk in amazement. You know my dancing skillz are as mad white as freshly fallen snow, but break dancers are the bomb diggety so I’m learning how to do it. You may tell me I can’t do it, which is good, I encourage you to discourage me because nothing makes me want to something more than someone telling me it can’t be done. In my first two hour session, we learned many things. Break dancing is one-fourth of the hip hop culture along with MCing, DJing, and graffiti. Word, I am now official hip hop. Believe it. It’s like Kid Rock says: I take punk rock…and I mix it with the hip hop. Now these guys who are our teachers are amazing. I have a lot of respect for professional dancers. It is tough, but a lot of fun. I haven’t taken dance lessons in probably 15 years, but now I wish I wouldn’t have dropped out of that dance class when I was 6 years old just because I was the only guy. If I only I had known then that that is a good thing. But these guys are ripped to the max. Break dancing requires a gymnast’s body, strength, and agility. Balancing yourself on one hand or foot is par for the course. It’s tough. My legs are still sore. After the class, I had to hold onto the railing going down stairs for days. But I learned some basic stuff, the top rock, the six step, a transition. I need to practice though. Step by step is easy, the flow is the hard part. But I’ve got soul, baby. That night was Hollywood stars night at the local bar. I had to go and I had to dress up, but I had a lack of money and time to devise a clever costume. Then inspiration hit me. I thought…dude. Then I thought…sweet, and it came to me. So I took a plain white t-shirt and wrote ‘Dude’ on the back of it, and I got one of my posse to write ‘Sweet’ on his. So we went as the guys from “Dude, Where’s My Car?” It was cool. That however was the extent of the coolness of that evening. I realized more than before the extent of my hatred for certain actions. Yes that was purposefully vague. Suffice it to say that I try to find redeemable qualities in everyone. Some people, however, exist solely to hinder my search. These people just happen to be geographically centered in Sydney. That’s that. Thursday night was the Toga Party. I’ve been to toga parties before, but never actually worn a toga. This time was different. Oh yeah. I had many ideas for exciting togas. I thought first of saran wrap. Then I thought of duct tape put on sticky side out followed by a rolling around in the leaves. These ideas were scrapped in the interests of time and a realization that there are no leaves in winter. So I went with the traditional sheet with a branch stuck in my hair. It was a god night. I came, made my point, and left. Bing, bang, boom. The next day was another trip to the Blue Mountains. You may remember them from my other trip, which proved to be the better one. I discovered that false advertising is not restricted to commercial use, but can also be employed by universities. A ‘day’ trip that was to comprise all the best aspects of the mountains consisted of one lookout and short hike followed by one other lookout and short hike led by tour guides who knew nothing and a 3:15 return. We did see a cool movie on the bus, get a good lunch, and got free ice cream though. I think they bought us the ice cream cause they realized how lame the trip was. Saturday I went on a field trip to a neighboring city for my Indigenous Studies class. We saw a museum, took a nice hike, and saw some cool parks. After it was over, I stayed around and found some good used CD shops and got some quality disks. There’s some good British stuff you can get over here that you can’t get in the U.S. It was a nice day, and I got to hang with some cool people who hadn’t yet realized the excitement to be gained from hanging with me before. So that ends the history portion of the letter. On a personal note…this is the sentimental part of the email. If it’s too heavy for you, don’t read it. Skip on by it if you’re too much of a punk to talk about feelings or have too much pride to admit that you have them too and no matter how much you pretend, life is not always peachy. This will not be a downer though. You may recognize a dark jaded undercurrent in this and previous letters. Good job, this means you were paying attention. You’re a step up. Details are not important, but I have been leading a troubled existence recently. I have said things I would not normally say and done things I would not normally say. I know who I am, and I’m happy with that person, and I sacrificed that when I shouldn’t have. Being human is a funny thing. Rock bottom is a scary place, but is a necessary step on the path of life. Fate is force more powerful than any of us can imagine, and thank God, but I sure have no idea why things have to happen, and I’m glad there’s someone who does. More than anything I wanted to take this opportunity to say thank you. I am glad I have friends at home and all over the country. Western society is heartless and decrepit, never stop caring and realize the importance you have to people, including me. So thanks for being you. I have two insights that I have gained as of today that I knew before, but have been reinforced. 1) Never let anyone run your life except you. You alone are in control of your happiness. There are things and people, however, which you cannot control. Therefore, it is unreasonable to place your happiness in things or people. Happiness is something you must create out of nothing. It cannot be gained; it must simply be. 2) There has to be a God. This world is way too wack for there not to be something better. It’s impossible to explain. Language is not sufficient to express thoughts and reasoning, but it all makes perfect sense, really. There is no way to make sense of the world, but the world has to make sense. Any, go meditate on it or something. That is the end of that story. It shall never be brought up again by me or anyone else. It is over. And so is the letter that turned out to be longer than I anticipated. Good reading though, I hope. This thing is going to be book length by the time I come back from Australia. Keep your eyes peeled for the next one. It may be a while, I anticipate a slowing down of things, but in a good way. Until then, remember you are special and important. Jeremy

9.25.2003 // Volume 5
Posted at 7:12 PM

So it begins again. I make no apologies for the length of this letter. It’s going to be long, and strong, and down to get the friction on. I don’t even know why I bother saying that anymore. You know it’s going to be long. And that’s why you love it. It’s what drives you and keeps you riveted to your seat. It makes it feel more real, less like a letter or an email and more like a story or something you might actually read. It’s like how more people come to a concert if it costs money than if it’s free. It adds an aura of elitism. You need me. So let’s talk about fashion. We all know how much I just love to keep up to date on the current fashion trends. So trendy I am. You all know that my style is wild. We shall now discuss Australian fashion. It shall be an in-depth discussion. Head for the hills. First, I have made an interesting observation. In the U.S., everyone wears Abercrombie. You don’t even have to be preppy anymore, Abercrombie has graciously opened itself up to people of all colors and creeds. People who are rich and snobby or want others to think they are or even normal people who want to be accepted. Interestingly, I have never seen a celebrity wear Abercrombie. And they’re the coolest of all. So wearing Abercrombie just makes you normal, not cool. Stars get raves on their fashion sense because they take chances. They do what they think looks good, arguably. Australia has caught on to this but unfortunately horribly distorted it. As I said before, it’s a country of rock stars. For example, Volcom is Australia’s Abercrombie. You may not be familiar with Volcom. They are basically a skate clothing company in the US. They’re up there with Hurley and Etnies all that stuff, nothing really sets them apart except that they always sponsor a stage on the Warped Tour and they now have a record label too. Their slogans always have something to do with “anti-establishment.” Which is ironic. Because everyone wears it here. Now part of this is cultural. Australia is culturally anti-establishment. They’re all about rugged screw you I’ll do it my own way. But still, even “the establishment” wears Volcom. And it’s sold at Abercrombie prices. Which is another tangent altogether. Counter culture has become pop culture. It’s incredibly interesting. There are all these stores that sell an urban chic/punk rock/elitist/anti-establishment lifestyle. Stores don’t sell clothes anymore, they sell lifestyles. Stores have DJs spinning in store jams. (All in-store music is hip-hop/techno, even these punk places.) Everything is expensive. We have thrift stores where you can get really cheap shirts and even an average shirt costs $15. Here $30-$40 is the normal price. That’s steep even with the currency adjustment. The cool style is the punk/underground/ trucker hats/retro thing. Except shirts cost $60. They took something that is “cheap” and made it trendy and resold it for a huge profit. They have things similar to our thrift stores. They are stores that sell old clothes, but they are $20-$30, not the half a buck we pay. I took clothes out of my dad’s closet for free that they are selling for $30! For example, Converse Chuck Taylor All-Stars are $35 in the U.S. and here they are $80. Also, when I say retro, you probably think more of ‘70s retro cause that’s what’s big in the States. Here, it’s all about the ‘80s. For girls, if your shirt doesn’t cover both of your shoulders you might as well throw in the towel. Also, Asian influence is very apparent. I can’t really explain it, but it’s very simple and complex at the same time. Yin and yang I guess. Anyway, Aussie style is whack. That’s the point. I’m thinking of starting my own clothing company. Trendy clothing companies started by college kids are totally now, totally yes, totally wow. Take this trippin world for a real spin. So back to real experiences. Transfer to empirical mode. I had a minor crisis a few weeks ago. Computers here discriminate against American floppy disks. They like to eat them alive, breakfast, lunch, and dinner. It is no uncommon for a disk to all of a sudden stop working forever…so I have discovered. I have a disk on which I keep a list of basically everything that ahs happened to me since I was in high school. Not as detailed as this letter or anything, just the big things, like potential resume material. This disk for which I did not have a back up was one of the lucky ones chosen by the computer to be corrupted. Now this was a scary moment. It was like all of a sudden I had no past. I went to the school IT people and their program that fixes 95% of these problems said it was irreparable. I gave it to a local college student who was supposed to be good with computers. That night all hope was lost. Then the miraculous occurred. Not only was the kid able to fix what the professionals couldn’t I also discovered that I had a back up from late July on another disk. Only thing is I have no recollection of making the back up. Now you know that I rarely forget things. I’m like an elephant man. So why does this matter? Allow me to impart the wisdom I gained form the experience, because that’s what it is really all about. You can learn form everything. 1) Back up everything. Everything. EVERYTHING. All the time. Forever. And ever. Email it to yourself if you have to. 2) Do not place any amount of happiness in things. They will die, fail, get lost, or be otherwise removed form your reach. 3) Don’t rest on your laurels. What you did in the past doesn’t matter. What you do now and what you will do in the future does matter. 4) Don’t worry about stupid things. People are dying and losing loved ones and getting bombed by US “peacekeepers” every hour. A floppy disk is unimportant. 5) Never give up. Cliché yes and very much true. Reminds me of the serenity prayer (God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.) 6) God is real, once again. I promise on my life I never made that back up. I don’t know where it came from. Father’s Day is in the middle of September here. Isn’t that weird? How can they do that? Now the subject turns to walking. I have discovered that I very much enjoy walking. The walking must have a purpose though. People think I’m crazy or possibly awesome cause I like to walk places instead of paying too much for a bus. Sydney has a bunch of walks they have created for people to do with some awesome scenery. I have done two of these walks recently. These names may mean nothing, but the first walk I did (with a friend) was from Bondi Beach to Coogee Beach. It was about 8 miles along the east coast. I can’t describe the beauty. It was so amazing. Along the walk we passed many other little beaches and bays and a cemetery and so many huge rocks it was nuts. Beaches here are different form what we’re used to as well. The last American beach I went to was Ocean City, Maryland. This is how I think of beaches, lots of sand with a boardwalk and a little fair and tons of huge hotels. Here it’s basically a city with a beach tacked on at the end. The city is not created solely around beach tourism. It’s weird. The second walk was from Manly Beach to the Spit Bridge. This one was also cool and even more eventful. This one was much more jungle/nature themed than beaches and rocks. First, the beaches were tiny. We passed these patches of sand about the size of a dorm room, and they were actually beaches with names. Also, I saw the most amazing thing. They were partridges, you know like the one in the pear tree? Except there were two. At least I think they were partridges; I’ve never seen one before, but they looked just like the pictures. Now for the horror portion of my tale. I was told to leave 4 hours for this walk. I did not and I paid the price for my insolence. It got dark before I was done and I was stuck in the middle of this giant forest as dusk approached. The creatures come out at night. As I was walking, I heard a fast rustling and looked down and saw a huge lizard, probably a foot long, standing a few feet away. I thought this was cool until I saw another one right in the middle of the path. Now I love animals, but Australia is home to more deadly animals than anywhere on the planet. I had no idea what this thing was and whether or not it wanted to kill me. I could not pass by it without having to step over it. I tried to scare it away, but it wouldn’t budge. Stubborn little bugger, he was. So I had to plow my way through the brush to get around him. I saw 6 more of these things later on. It ended up getting really really dark and it was a little creepy only being able to see a few feet in front of me in this tropical rainforest, but what an experience. Okay, I’ll sprint through the rest of this stuff. I helped out with an event in the city a few weeks ago called National Blonde Day. It was a combination fake holiday/world record for most blondes in one place at one time/promotional event for “Legally Blonde 2.” It was real hype, yo, all kinds of Aussy celebrities and gorgeous people, and I got tons of free stuff. Later that week I went shopping in the cool area of town. It was the alternative/punk/gay/indie area of the city. This makes me ponder why the underground scene and the gay scene are lumped together. It’s like there’s mainstream and then everything else I guess. I am in the musical our college is putting on. It was written and directed and everything by students. The story is Lord of the Rings meets Indiana Jones meets local humor with musical interludes. I play the oracle. I’m playing him as kind of a wise Chris Rock meets Jesse Jackson type of thing. Finally, we had a day called Carton Day the other day where everyone who wants to is supposed to drink a carton (24 cans) of beer in 24 hours. Oh, Australia, you crazy kids. I have never seen so many people so drunk for so long. It was tragic and amusing at the same time. So tomorrow is Conception Day. It’s like TGIS (Etown people) with 25000 people, and they actually bring in a lot of bands. There will be lots of drunkenness that I will be able to observe. They are trying to set a world record for the longest tequila line. They need 750 to take shots in a row to beat it. Then we’re off for Spring Break. In case you feel like looking up where these places are, we’re flying to Cairns, then bussing back for 2 weeks and stopping at Cape Tribulation, Airlie Beach/Whitsunday Islands, Hervey Bay/Fraser Island, Brisbane, Surfer’s Paradise, and Byron Bay. Yeah, a real spring break trip. It will be hot like whoa. The ladies will all be like, Jeremy, you’re so hot like whoa, especially with your sexy beard. Then we’ll sit on the beach and watch the sunset. If words like Gold Coast or Great Barrier Reef mean anything to you, we’ll be there too. These are more areas than actual places. It’s like the Gulf of Mexico, you know, you don’t go there, you go somewhere on there. You’ll hear all about it next time, maybe even see some pictures. So that was long. I don’t know how or why I write so much. Of wait, now I remember; it’s because I’m a visionary. I have a vision, and you’re part of it. Keep the vision alive. Jeremy

10.14.2003 // Volume 6
Posted at 10:48 PM

Good morning boys and girls. Welcome to Australian Geography 101. Today’s lesson is the east coast. The east coast of Australia is a magical place with beaches, mountains, rainforests, islands, snorkeling, sailing, four-wheeling, and shopping galore. It’s a good place, but save your money; it’s not cheap. So I haven’t done much of anything these past two weeks except travel and travel and travel. No bed for 2 nights in a row. Yes, I am a rock star. I spent the past two weeks touring the east coast of Australia with 8 other good folks. It was my first real spring break experience, though they don’t call it that here. It’s called a holiday. Halloween is also a holiday, as are all the other real holidays, which leads to some confusion. But anyway, before launching into a description of what happened, I’ll make some general observations. We’ve talked about alcohol many times before. But it’s so much fun, let’s bring it up again. In Australia, they have the closest thing I’ve seen yet to state sponsored beers. Now I haven’t been to too many countries but I know in the U.S. you drink whatever beer you want wherever you want. Maybe Jack Daniels is more popular in Tennessee than anywhere else, but it’s not like it’s the official state beer. Here they have a few main beers, what beer is consumed at the local pub is totally determined by what state you’re in. The way a restaurant advertises itself as a restaurant is by having the logo of a beer on its sign (this is totally normal here because alcohol is the main beverage to have with a meal, soda is more like a snack drink). Imagine Applebee’s with a big Bud logo on the sign. Anyway, you can tell which state you’re in by the type of beer the pub sells. In New South Wales, it’s Toohey’s; in Queensland, it’s XXXX (pronounced 4 X). Now these are the only states I’ve been to, but I can imagine the other states follow the same pattern. I could tell on my trip we were getting close to home when I saw Toohey’s signs instead of the XXXX I’d been seeing for weeks. Weird. Be careful when you ride on buses. The window seat is a very dangerous place. On our way back to Sydney at 3:00 in the morning, the window next to my bus seat shattered for no reason. Stupid bird? Thrown rock? Too cold? No one knows. Lesson learned – support your local governments’ initiative towards shatter-proof glass. You never know when a pane of glass near you may mysteriously shatter for no apparent reason. So this was a cool trip. First, let me say if you’ve never stayed in a hostel, don’t...unless you really can’t afford a motel. They are fun places, but I would never ever stay in one if I was over the age of 25 or if I was on anything other than a long backpacking journey. These places are like hotels run by irresponsible teenagers. Appreciate those AAA recommended Motel 6s, they’ll leave the light on for you. Hostels will turn it off and charge you with the electric bill. Living out a backpack may sound fun. It is, but there’s something about having a bed and your own room and a shower every morning and a meal that’s not fish and chips that the rock star life can never provide. Future stars beware. Now let me expand a little on the places I visited in opposite order of how much I enjoyed them. It’s like a 10 Best list, except with only 9 places. Many details will be spared for the sake of your eyes and my fingers. 9)Byron Bay – One day was half a day too much to spend in this place. You may have even heard good things about it. Lies. All lies. It’s one of the most famous places in Australia as a big surfing town. They forget to tell you about the hippies…and the cults…and the wind. It does have good surf for surfers, and it may be a fun place for adventure seekers cause there’s all kinds of skydiving and the like there. But, believe me, NYC is not half as strange as Byron. Most of this comes from a little mountain town a half hour away called Nimbin. There was a big music festival there, kind of like Woodstock in the ‘60s. The thing is some people liked it so much they never left. Now this place is the hippie haven of Australia. Weed in cookies, weed in brownies, weed pizza. It’s everywhere. The town grows all their own food. When these people come down from the mountains, they wind up in Byron Bay. No fast food. Every restaurant is vegetarian. Hemp and tie-die sarongs are sold in every store. The whole town is stoned out of its mind. I like hippie ideals of peace and love, but Byron is really more about the weed. They had a really cool and really windy lighthouse there that made the stay bearable. Had it not been there I may have dove in the jellyfish-infested ocean myself. 8)Hervey Bay – Maybe I just don’t like bays. This little town is the mainland departure site for Fraser Island which I’ll get to later. It wasn’t really a bad place, it was just kind of boring. It was a total suburb, but there was no big city close by to justify it’s being a suburb. There’s just nothing exciting to say about it. At least there was no weed. 7)Whitsunday Islands – These are a series of islands right of the coast of central Queensland. They were pretty cool. Staying at the 5 star hotels on the islands would have been awesome. Staying on a little yacht for 3 days was an experience. Our captain was as typical sailor as you can get. He was dirty, smelly, crude, and proud of it. The skipper was a teenage playboy. The chef wore shorts that showed the tips of her buttcheeks. There were 40 people on a yacht big enough for about 20. Some of the passengers were form Northern Ireland. I’ve never seen people drink and party so much in my life. They were ridiculous. It was a good trip tough. We did some snorkeling and hit some beaches and some resorts and did a lot of sailing. Sleeping on the boat was crazy. The wind was lots of fun. We hit a big storm our second day and it was a blast to stand on the deck and hold on for dear life as the wind and rain tossed us around like a rag doll. Some people on the boat slept on an island, and that night the weather was so bad we couldn’t dock to let them off. So they threw on life jackets, got their belongings and jumped in the dingy to take them ashore…in the dark…without lights…and they could only jump in when the waves brought the dingy up to a high enough level. 6)Cairns – The Heart of Tropical Far North Queensland. This place was hot like whoa. It was a city in the tropics. They had a cool lagoon thing in the middle of the city by the ocean. It was more like a public swimming pool, but it was really big and had a beach and was surrounded by palm trees and was really awesome. We saw fireworks here too. Fireworks are cool. We went on a snorkeling excursion to the Great Barrier Reef here too, and that was amazing. So many colors, it would blow your mind. Every fish was like a rainbow and there were huge fish bigger than anything I’d ever seen. There were so many different corals too, some of which were dangerous. I never knew coral can be dangerous, but it can. It was awesome. 5)Brisbane – This was the only real “city” we were in. It was a big place. Nothing compared to Sydney, which is far and away the largest city in Australia, but it has like 2 million people. Our hostel was really nice and right across from Chinatown which was really cool. I didn’t really see much of the city though because I went to the Australia Zoo instead. This is the zoo owned by Steve Irwin, The Crocodile Hunter. It was awesome. The people were so friendly and there were so many koalas that you could pet and kangaroos (we saw an albino) running around and the crocodiles were like 20 feet long. It was a really neat place. We didn’t see Steve, but his crazy philosophy and excitement permeated the whole place. Probably the best zoo I’ve been to. 4)Cape Tribulation – Sounds scary, huh? Maybe it was. It was really this big rainforest that runs right up to the beach then there is a big beach and it’s awesome. The hostel and a tiny restaurant across the street were the only buildings in the whole place. It wasn’t really a town at all. It was a long ride to get out there in the middle of nowhere, and the hostel was a bunch of little tropical huts. You had to walk on a boardwalk through a mangrove forest to get to the beach too. Mangroves are these cool trees with roots that are kind of above ground. We went on a bunch of hikes too and saw lots of huge trees and enormous leaves and giant lizards. We had to wade through a croc infested river once, but there were no crocs around. There were little turkey things running around all over the place too. We also went on a cruise of the Daintree River and saw all kinds of crazy birds and crabs and crocs and stuff. There were lots of giant spiders too. Real real big spiders. 3)Fraser Island – This is the largest sand island in the world. It’s like 75 miles long and about half as wide. We went on a 3 day adventure out there. The group we went with sent us out with an old Toyota Land Cruiser and some camping equipment and we rocked the house for 3 days. It was awesome, even though it rained a lot. It was the most action packed roughing it time we had. I could write a whole letter just on this. Almost all the driving was along the beach and the rest of it was on these sandy inland roads in the middle of a rainforest. There was this creek that you could float down and huge lakes with white sand and giant sand dunes. It’s like nothing you’ve ever seen, just sand as far as you can see and at the end is a rainforest. It’s crazy, there’s no soil on the island, just sand. I never felt dirty though. Walking around barefoot did take its toll on my poor feet though, but all that sand running through your toes…ahhh. 2)Airlie Beach – This was the mainland exit point for the Whitsundays. It was a rad little place. It was really small, just one street, more like a strip actually, but there was a lot of cool stores and clubs and stuff. It just had a real nice vibe, and they had one of those lagoons like in Cairns, too. It was really sunny while we were there but my SPF 50 kept me from feeling its nasty effects. Our hostel here was probably the nicest we saw. We even had our own shower. Living the high life, we were. 1)Surfers Paradise – Yes, that is the name of the town. Surfers is the heart of the Gold Coast, the most visited tourist destination in Australia. Lots of people don’t like it and say it is to commercialized. I loved it. It was so full of life and vibrancy it was ridiculous. A total paradise. The surf apparently isn’t that great here, but the area is dazzling. They have 4 theme parks, a wax museum, a Ripley’s Believe It or Not (anywhere with a Ripley’s rules), tons of dinner theatres, lots of gimmicky rides and attraction, great food, and a cool beach. There was so much to do, one day wasn’t nearly enough. Bring lots of money if you ever go though, cause it’s not cheap fun. It reminded me a lot of Myrtle Beach. It has that feel, no boardwalk, but it’s like those beach towns with all the high rises by the beach and boardwalks and amusement parks on piers that stick out into the ocean. Great place. So that was spring break. The day before we left was also eventful. It was a big day long party sponsored by the university called Conception Day. It was kind of like the Warped tour which made me very happy since I missed the tour this year. They turned the campus into a big fair with rides and bands and games and everything. The headlining band was an Australian punk band called Frenzal Rhomb. They have a deal with Fat Wreck Chords in the US, but they’re not very big. They’re all the rage with the kiddies here though, and they put on a good show followed by fireworks. So now it’s back to school. I only have 4 weeks of classes left then 2 ½ weeks of exams. I only have one exam though so I’ll have some free time but unfortunately little money to travel. The Outback, Tasmania, and New Zealand will have to wait. (By the way, Tasmanian Devils, while nothing like Taz or Dizzy form from the cartoons really are wild restless little buggers. They never stop moving.) Until next time, entertain yourself by singing “Hey Jude” over and over again until you feel smarter than John Lennon was when he married Yoko Ono. Jeremy

11.9.2003 // Volume 7
Posted at 12:40 PM

No more classes, no more books, no more teachers dirty looks. When the teacher rings the bell, grab your books and run like...Well, I’m out. That’s right boys and girls, I have successfully completed another semester of collegiate-level studies. From the U.S. to the international, I own the world of academia. Rock and roll baby. For really though, I just finished school over here in the land of the platypuses. We only had 13 weeks, does that seem short? I distinctly remember going for 18 weeks in high school. I still have exams though, or should I say exam. My philosophy class requires that I take an exam, but that’s not for a week and a half; then one more week and my triumphant return to the land of milk and honey. Everything that has a beginning has an end. So I know ya’ll have probably been waiting in anticipation for this installment or possibly forgetting, but cherish this moment, these are the times to hold onto. Truthfully, not a whole lot of really noteworthy stuff has gone down. I wrote some papers, saw some people, ate some food, saw some movies, ya know, the usual. But I suppose I had better get to why your all here. You want the juice. You want the gossip. They say David Beckham’s autobiography is crap because there’s no juice, all story. I know why you’re here, and I know how to give you what you want. Open up and say awesome. In two years of college, I had never been sick. They said dorm life was the perfect breeding ground for illness. Those little viruses have so many potential people to go on dates on, but I have stayed strong. The Australian flu is a mighty strong one though. It takes and takes and takes and gives nothing but misery. It knocked me the heck out for a week and more. But now I can breathe again. It all started the day we went to Sydney Olympic Park. It is, of course, the site created to host the 2000 Olympic games, and is now being used for all kinds of stuff like the Rugby World Cup, going on now. The U.S. recently won their first game since 1988. But, this place is pretty rad. There are so many sports stadiums and a park and the big torch. It was cool, but everything was locked, which I suppose is normal to lock a stadium if there’s nothing going on, but it was kind of a bugger. Their logo there at the park is great. It’s a yellow circle. Type a lower-case “o” in Arial font and there you have it. Brilliant. And they were selling little candies in the shape of the logo for $.50 a piece. You could buy ten of the same yellow “o” candy at a store for the same price. I hope no one ever buys one. I was also in a musical a few weeks ago. I played the part of the Oracle. I was very wise and mysterious, like a cross between Jesse Jackson and Chris Rock. That’s my interpretation anyway. It was boatloads of fun though, and now I can say I’m an international actor. I had sick lines like, “Until you learn to master your rage, your rage will become your master” and “You are like the stinging bee which brings about its own demise” and my favorite “you must lash out with every limb like the octopus who plays the drums.” What eloquence, what poetry. Then we had Halloween. They don’t really celebrate Halloween too much over here, but they had a dress up night at the bar for those so inclined. So when you were young and you thought of playing dress up, what came to your mind? Dressing up like the opposite sex? That’s what I thought. Viewer discretion is advised. In one night, I learned more about the hardships of being an adolescent female than I think I ever cared to know. I looked like a runway hooker that night, let me tell you. All the ladies were ticked that I looked better in their clothes than they did. I found out many things about myself that night, primarily that I have the body of every girl’s dreams. Unfortunately, it’s their dreams for themselves not their hunka hunka burnin love. I never knew it was possible to wear such a teeny weeny skirt. I must let you know as well that these little letters have helped more than just ya’ll. I edited my very first letter and sent it into a creative writing competition here at the college, and jumpin Jehosaphat, it got second place. You’ll be happy to know that it is being published in the annual literary magazine/yearbook thingy they put out every year. So I guess I’m an internationally published writer now too. The night of the awards there was a big party with a band and all this beer. It was fun to watch. What a culture. But now we must sidetrack to serious business: television. I have put the soapbox down and I am now stepping on top of it. Television is the devil. It saddens me to watch it, even here. We just got a TV put into our main common room with cable and all and now people watch it all the time. You really get to know people’s true characters when there’s a TV around. People you actually thought had personalities just sit and stare at that idiot box all...day...long. And it’s right outside the computer lab, so it’s hard to do work in there. Alas technology has taken over our lives. The good news is I saw Thundercats for the first time in ages. Thunder...thunder...thundercats, HOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! One guy even hooked up his Super Nintendo. You may not know this, but video games and I have a long and turbulent love/hate relationship together. Playing those games renewed my passion for the old button mashers, but it was frightening at the same time. See I never had any systems till the Super Nintendo cause ma and pa thought I’d play them too much. Then I got one and I did. It was good, but eventually I had to cancel my Nintendo Power subscription and cease N64 game purchases as the riggers of staying cool in high school took over. I just didn’t have any time any more. I have never looked back, but there is still a special place in my heart for that ideal reality created for us, where for as long as the power is on, we are in control. I love video games, and a part of me longs for the day when I can return to them. But, my wallet and my social life tell me otherwise, and we all know it’s for the best, but never deny your past. Any whatever you do, never buy a non-Nintendo system. Speaking of crappy stuff, I had some Vegemite the other day. You may have heard of it; it’s a dietary staple here, but it’s only sold here. It’s a spread like butter or something, but it’s black and made form yeast extract, like scraping the foam off of beer and putting it on your toast they say. I ate a third of a crumpet with the stuff on it, and that is all I could handle. Words have not been invented to describe its taste. The first one that comes to mind is nauseating. But the Aussies are used to it and they love it while at the same time thinking peanut butter and jelly is a disgusting combination. Finally, I went to the Aquarium today. I love animals. They’re so rockin awesome. I especially love the platypus. This is absolutely the most hilarious creature ever, period. God has a sense of humor. They’re actually pretty small, like a foot long at the most, but they really are a combination of about every animal on Earth. They lay eggs, they have fur, they have a beak, they have webbing, and they have pouch, and they’re venomous. Them and the echidna are the only two species so weird in the world, both in Australia. I also saw a moray eel, and it looked at me...right in the eyes. I swear I was looking through the eyes of Satan. If the devil lives on Earth, he lives in a moray eel. They are indescribable. I also saw a manta ray. They are real big, like whoa. Spread your arms as far as you can, then imagine a big moving circle that circumference and there you have it. They had this awesome tank with rays and sharks and shark rays. So many big fish. I never knew fish could be so big. Even deadly coral. Did you know coral can kill you? You just think it’s a rock, but oh no my friend, you are mistaken. It’s alive. Which brings us once again to the present. I’ve got two and a half weeks left before heading home. I’ll write once more at the very end. I’ve got some exciting plans for my remaining time, so that should be fun. Keep on rockin in the free world but beware the Sony/BMG music merger. In ten years one company will own the world. I love the Australians, but I can’t wait to see everyone again. I promise you’ll love me. Remember with great power comes great responsibility. Jeremy

12.7.2003 // Volume 8
Posted at 8:29 AM

I…had…the time of my life…Oh no I never felt this way before…yes I swear…it’s the truth…and I owe it all to you…well actually I don’t. Not all of it anyway. But this is the end of an era. A saga has come to a close and you have been a part of it. Maybe not physically, but you were here – in these letters, in my thoughts, in all the people I met here who look remind me of people I know from the past. You were here. And as much as you enjoyed reading these little babies, I enjoyed writing them, and winning awards with them. It’s a twisted kind of therapy. Who knows what I’ll do from now on. But let’s make this last one a bang, shall we? As much as I love grand entrances, it’s the exit that really keeps them coming back for more. I write this now from the comfort and bland stability of my home. But life was not always so stable. Let us begin our journey as I travel deep into the depths of the Australian continent on my third and final trip to the Blue Mountains. I love those mountains. I love beaches, and I love mountains behind them. This may be because I have lived my whole life in the flat cornfield of Ohio, but anyway I ventured back to the mountains. This time, however, I was not content to travel up them or even around them. The true beauty lies inside them. This was my first attempt at adventure caving, which took place in the Jenolan Caves. We arrived at the caves only to see a humongous film crew was already there. I figured that The Man had finally come to recognize my gift. I was ready for my close up when I found out they were only taping a soft drink commercial…an American soft drink. So if you see some LaBron James dribbling around a cave drinking Sprite soon, you’ll know I was there. I also saw some gorgeous wildlife. It was so amazing. There are these birds called crimson rosellas, but to the untrained eye (me before I looked in a book), you would call them parrots. They were everywhere begging for food just like pigeons in the city (and pigeons are awesome too). They were as close to me as you are to your computer screen right now. And that nasty bugger stole one of my freedom fries. Then of course we actually went in the cave, but we had to abseil down a cliff first. This is kind of like repelling, but you walk down instead of hopping. I thought I’d be fine, but it was actually pretty scary because you have to get at a right angle to the cliff and walk down backwards. Then we went under the earth with only our miner’s lights to guide us. We saw some rad tree roots that came through the ceiling like seaweed and then reconnected to the ground. At one point we turned off our lights and experienced the darkest dark you can possibly imagine. 0% light. You need at least 2% to see anything, but since we couldn’t, our minds started making things up to compensate. Trippy. Then there was the Armchair, a slab of rock that was more comfortable than anything Lay-Z-Boy has ever made, and the Mailbox, a tiny slit we had to fit through, and the S-Curve, like the pipe below your sink. There were even some friendly cicadas to welcome us upon our reemergence. Then I saw School of Rock. Movie of the year hands down. They might as well not even make any more movies. What a winner. So much passion. I even saw the much-lauded Matrix Revolutions. No comparison, though I’m not saying it was bad like all those other people who bash it because they are unable to spare the time to think about it and understand it. It’s trendy to dislike sequels, no matter how hyped they are. First movie: “Whoa what great special effects. What a great action movie!” Second movie: “Oh man, I can’t wait to see how it ends.” Third movie: “Too many special effects. It didn’t end the way I would have ended it, which is clearly the only correct way.” Anyway, I cleared my mind the following day with a very relaxing trip to a southern bay. We passed this sweet ocean blowhole on the way, and I swear if I ever make a romantic movie, I’m going there to film it. With the sunset and the waves and the crashing tide. I saw some dolphins and met a cool Swedish girl and decided I would like to visit Sweden at some point. I have never met someone not awesome and hot from Sweden. Then that weekend, my posse and I rode downtown to visit a gnarly restaurant with the coolest non-student at Etown. We had to cook our own steaks which at first I thought was just a way for the restaurant to save money on chefs, but turned out to be deliciously scrumptious. On an interesting side note, I discovered on night that I “look Australian,” which is pretty awesome considering that Australian guys and American women go together like the Bush family and pointless wars. Given my track record, however, I am inclined to think maybe it’s the accent that wins ‘em over. It was cool though, this guy really thought I was Australian until he heard me talk. Aussies are usually really good at telling their own kind from us foreigners. I’m just an enigma I suppose. Now let us talk about athletics. I don’t particularly like sports. Though I enjoy them, any kind of devotion has left me only down and out. During our last month or so Down Under, however, we were lucky enough to catch the third largest sporting even in the world – the Rugby World Cup. I bet you didn’t even know it existed. I still don’t totally understand the game, but I was pretty into the final between defending champion Australia and the mother land of England. It was a great game. Australia ties it up at14-14 with a minute left in the game. Then with two minutes left in overtime, they tie it up again at 17-17 and it looks like its double-overtime time. It was not to be as England kicked a field goal type thing with less than 30 seconds remaining to win. Great game. The only disappointment was at the end of the game when interviews were going on. Before anyone could be interviewed, they had to stand in front of a giant wall plastered with corporate logos. Ironically, instead of giving me a favorable opinion of those lovely companies, it left me with a bad taste and a reminder that sports are no longer a game but a business. Rah rah, capitalism. Alright, we’re getting there. Now I don’t usually mention names here, but as we are now into my final week and I have still not visited my Etown roommate who lives only two hours away from me, I decided to take a little trip to see Mr. Smith. I saw the metropolis of Newcastle and was glad to be in Sydney, but the wooded campus was beautiful. I learned the answer to the age-old question, “How many gay men does it take to completely destroy any semblance of uniqueness and stylistic integrity in a perfectly healthy straight man?” from Queer Eye for the Straight Guy. Five, thought the cultural coach had some dignity. Then I left and the rest was like a movie. It was a cold and rainy night. Three souls brave the weather and stand alone at the old train station. The vehicle arrives and the inevitable occurs. Unable to restrain his emotions, the remaining friend runs alongside the train until finally realizing that like Paris Hilton trying to keep her $100 nails clean on a farm in Arkansas, it just wasn’t meant to be. The train is deserted and silent. The camera pans around the subject sitting and staring into the nothingness of the countryside as a Coldplay song echoes in the background. Two hours, two trains, one bus, and a taxi later, his head hits the warm bed. That’s going to make one of my movies some day. My final trip was to the posh Watsons Bay area of Sydney. I saw my first nude beach, but the rain and cold kept my clothes wrapped tightly around me. And I realized that lighthouses rock. With the tallness and the colors and the lights and the history and all, they’re way cooler than ringtones on your cell phone. The night before I left we had one last cruise around the harbour of Sydney. On the way we just happened to see the largest passenger cruise ship ever built. Turn this puppy on it’s side and it would be another huge skyscraper. They even had fireworks for us. And that was the end. Now for the melodramatic conclusion. Every experience needs closure. You don’t have closure and it haunts you for the rest of you life. I learned a lot in Australia. Not from the classes, though they were fun, but from the experiences and most importantly the people. It is easy in this world, especially in this country to assume the worst from people. We spend our lives assuming people are out to get us. Humanity is guilty until proven innocent. You have to prove to me that you are worth my time. Unless you can do something for me, you are nothing. We take no time out of our lives to consider the merits of every individual as an individual and not as a random or a member of some group or class. And the world seems evil because of it and the circle is unbroken. This is our curse. But as the Red Sox proved by their stunning achievements this season, curses are meant to be broken (almost). As some of the folks I despised the most (as is apparent from my early letters) grew to become my best mates, I slowly realized that under every wall of deceit and pool of beer is a human being exactly like me. The world is a beautiful place. There is beauty in the mountains and the oceans, but the real beauty is in the face of the person sitting beside you. This is living. And as I began to slowly live, I sat awake one night thinking for the first time that I honestly did not want to leave. I thought about sitting at home thinking about what Australia must be doing right now and realized that this place is as much a part of me as Ohio is. And I thought how difficult this must be for the permanent residents of the college, who semester after semester must meet new friends only to send them off just as the bonds are truly forming. But I realize that the only constant in life is change. It all seems like a dream now, but the dream was real. I woke up in Ohio, but I know I will never really leave Australia. So I challenge you: next time you go shopping, save the plastic bag. When you get home take the bag outside in the blistering cold on a windy morning and let it go. Now watch the bag dance over the horizon and remember that if you follow that horizon far enough there is a land called Australia, and there is India, and Ecuador, Sweden, Indonesia, and California, and there are friends there waiting for you that you haven’t even met yet. And you will forget all about whatever it is you just bought and see the beauty of the bag. Just remember to recycle it when you’re done. Litter kills. Jeremy