Wizard of Oz

If you are up to date in looking at my pictures online, then you will naturally remember one picture I took that had an access closed sign up on a path. Of course you remember it. Well, I had decided to take a trip up there when they stopped the construction because of course I wanted to see what all the construction was about. Yesterday I went off to class and when I came back there was a house on top of that hill that I wanted to venture up. A house. There hadn't been anything when I left for class and less than two hours later, an entire house had been placed on top of the hill. For one thing, I was disappointed because was sure that they had dropped this house from a crane (or helicopter, naturally) and equally sure that that would have been really fun to see. So I'm like a six year old boy when construction starts happening in the neighborhood. It's just too fun to see big old cranes and machinery do all the cool stuff that it does. But also, I was disappointed because it had been a pretty little path leading up into flowers and sky and now there's a crappy student house there. Now I can't go up there... it leads only to some other drunken uni house that I would rather avoid than climb a big old hill to see.

I do have to say that it did give me a night of great imagined stories. While I didn't see any curled-up feet of the wicked witch under this house, I couldn't see very well and they could have been there. Also, I had some Simpsons'-inspired humour about some people joining the witness protection program, but refusing to leave their house -- so they plopped it on some random open hill. I also had visions of pudgy, drunken uni students rolling down said hill in zigzag fashion, bumping into and off of the corners in the path. I pictured also my ducks waddling up the hill to get the better pizza crusts instead of my seeded bread.

So while this house invaded my wanderlust by blocking my path, it did open up my imagination enough to make me laugh out loud on the walk home. I'm not kidding -- I am sure my neighbors think of me as the crazy lady who laughs by herself and feeds the ducks. I am the crazy duck lady, and let me tell you -- life is pretty good.

Duck, Duck, Screw the Gulls

I must return to the conversation of the birds. I really do hate the gulls, and they hate me. There is one particular seagull that is huge and fat because he picks through the garbage first. I am disappointed in myself because I really hope he chokes on the plastic bags he pulls out of the garbage cans. They all spread the garbage out on the sidewalks and he gets his fill and then the other tiny birds are allowed to eat. How tyrannical is that? Honestly. They also swoop down on tables at outdoor restaurants just as people are walking awayto get their fill before the waitstaff can clear the tables. They still screech at me no matter where I am or what I am doing, and yes, it is me specifically. They are wretched birds.

The ducks, however, are wonderful. I love my three ducks that come to my window more than any other ducks, but it's hard to tell which ducks are mine when they aren't outside my window. Is it normal for ducks to travel in threes? Because I always assume that when I see a group of three ducks somewhere near my flat that they are, in fact, my personal ducks. Even if they're not my ducks, they are still far better than the evil gulls. One of my new favorite things is to watch ducks float downstream. They get lazy and stop swimming and they float down the water and it looks so funny. I have been known to laugh out loud at the ducks in the botanical gardens. Perhaps this is why the ducks like me, but people think I am crazy.

There is the possibility that I only fear birds that have pointy beaks, tempers, and hate me. But let's look at the options here... If you are kind to me, I give you food; if you are mean to me, I hope you choke on plastic in the street. I think the ducks really have this program down.

No Shoes, No Shirt, No Problem

While I am enjoying my new culturally different experience here, I felt the need to tell you about a trend I have noticed. I've actually been meaning to talk about this, but my verbose nature has prevented me from doing so until now. People here are dirty hippies. Naturally, I love it. Many adult women who have babies and small children have dreadlocks. One particular woman had her dreadlocks dyed pink and was telling her child that she was no pushover. Also, she wasn't wearing shoes, and her children weren't either. This wouldn't seem so strange, but we were in the mall. Many people here just can't be bothered to wear shoes and I have to love the freedom of it all, but am also confused by the logic behind it. As I walked to the library this morning, I noticed several broken beer bottles scattered about the streets, two literally rusty nails and other various sticky, smelly, and mysterious fluids. I don't mean to be prissy, but ew! For all the people who freaked out with Britney went into a public restroom with no shoes on, welcome to the land of horrid feet maintenance. I would like to say it is only the many dirty hippies who free themselves from the restraint of shoes, but many people dress like this: nice pants, nice shirt, tie, and no shoes. I like to be sure that they haven't come from work like this, but there is no such guarantee.

Now I have been tempted to join the movement, but you know... I mean, you absolutely know that the second that I would walk outside barefoot I would get five rusty nails, a used hypodermic needle, and a puddle of eerily cool yellow liquid all over myself. Maybe that makes me a paranoid, germphobic American, but hey, I like me this way. Power to the people, and free the foot and all that jazz. But if I befriend some of these well intentioned hippies, you know they are going to be wearing flip flops upon entering my humble abode. I mean, ew.

I am getting more tempted to put my hair in dreads. How awesome would I be? I really don't think I could pull it off, but here you don't have to. It's not a statement, it's a hair style. I don't even need to reek of pot or anything. Course now that I cut all my hair off, I would have just a mini froh (I am so unsure of how to spell this, and spellcheck is no help!!). But please. If you know me at all, you know that this is my dream.

Now I Get It

So I finally have a busy schedule again and I had several moments yesterday that reminded me why I wanted to come all the way across the globe. All of the international kids went on a tour of the peninsula nearby. It was great because we were just driving through the country and it was so pretty! Pastoral, but near water, so there were sheep and flowers and hills and an ocean all in the same area. Gorgeous. I got to see two penguins up close (look forward to pictures when I get my new power cord in the mail), a huge seal that I saw charge some girl who got too close, albatross, and the ocean. There were beautiful sights and a peace and calm that I just don't get to experience on a regular basis. These are the kinds of sights that make you feel lazy for not yet windsurfing, bungee jumping, or skydiving. I loved it. The land truly is inspiring and that was exciting, but then also...

Social life has rejoined me. Last night I walked in the rain with friends to a jazz bar and had New Zealand wine. I was talking with people from France, Malaysia, Switzerland, and New Zealand even. :) I just stopped and looked around and had to smile. This is what I wanted to be doing and I do know I could have gone a lot of different places to do it. But I am here and loving it. It's the kind of environment that reminds you that there are so many people who do so much and know so much and you just want to stay afloat. I want to learn like five new languages and know all about international politics and hear all kinds of music. So while this entry might not be hysterical, laughing at me and the birds (which do still hunt me), I just wanted to say that I wanted to remember that there is so much more to this big old world we live in and I certainly do remember that.

Some Things Never Change

So I finally took some of my dad's advice. I know, we're all shocked. He told me not to resist going to the international student party just because it was the international student party. He was right, it was really fun. It was my first time out and drinking New Zealand beer (which is pretty good) with people and I liked it. But it reminded me of college, which I think is okay because it is a college. But I realized that I really missed being out and about and meeting new people. I even missed the drama that comes in trying to get a group of ten people from one bar to another one several blocks away. If you don't see the drama that would rampantly ensue, then you obviously weren't in a sorority. It was even fun to see drunken groups of guys on their front porch desperately trying to encourage the party of the century in their house. I also enjoyed hearing the ghetto booty music that I thought was reserved for fine establishments like Northside and Buddy N' Pals. Turns out, people here like to use music as a diversionary tactic for their desire to grope and rub up on each other too. Granted, I don't want to leap headfirst back into the drunken abyss of college life again, but it's nice to visit sometimes.

Drama can be good because it keeps life interesting. I like seeing the unique relationships that develop with a mixture of alcohol, and after seeing that party last night, I wonder why all "mixers" don't start with a heaping portion of alcohol. I know that the drinking age is higher in the States, but please? How much easier would freshman orientation be if it was booze soaked and organized by the university? Maybe someday it could happen in the fine schools and not in the house parties where freshman girls are lured with alcohol to waiting boys' doors, but I guess they like their system better.

On a completely random note, I need to mention two animal stories to you. On my way to the library today, I saw a dog like Bailey. This story will really be more funny to those of you who have had the privilege of meeting Bailey. I immediately when into pouty, tearing up face because I really miss my dog. But then I realized that this dog didn't really look like Bailey, but I couldn't figure it out. I looked at her haircut, her leash color, nothing. I then realized that this dog was obeying commands and walking correctly. I no longer missed Bailey because this dog was nothing like Bailey.

Second story involved ducks. I have three ducks now. They come to my window in the afternoon and I give them bread, pita, or tortilla depending on my stock. Well, evidently they got awfully tired after mowing down on my pita and attacking each other for my pita (I hate when they fight), and two of them hung back and fell asleep by my window. They looked like real people, with slowly nodding off and having their heads fall down only to jerk them back up. One of them even shook his head to wake himself up!! I kid you not. So now, my love affair with my ducks has only flourished in seeing them be absolutely adorable.

The End.

And So It Begins

So I went to international student orientation today. Yeah, I know you're ravenously jealous. Regardless, it was a rather informative time. I am super excited to do yoga, stained glass work, and be part of wine tasting group because, for the most part, I can. Needless to say, their recreational organization is composed of more than intramurals. In addition to all that, I can take lessons in windsurfing, mountain climbing and pretty much any other random activity you can think of. I also discovered that there is a gym here that I can use for free (if you pretend we didn't pay astronomical fees to be in the University anyway...) and I will now take advantage.

Also, I realized for the first time today that after years of being disappointed that I hadn't chosen to go to "a real school," I am actually at one now. This school has a city wrapped up in and around it, and that's pretty cool. There are over 2000 international students here, which almost amounts to all the Valpo kids who didn't stay in their rooms all day. (I mean, seriously, who were those pale kids who won all the academic awards... puh-lease.) The only down side to my academic life here so far is that I have all night classes. I only have class three times a week, and none of those starts before 4. Getting a job that will be fulfilling wll be harder than I thought, as well. Turns out they have teachers for professional tutoring places and now I have to scrounge. Ah, whatever doesn't kill us makes us stronger right? (Whoever said that is so crappy.) Either way, I have made the dismal realization about myself: I like routine. I hate to say it, but I am looking forward to the dependable monotony of academia. Granted, they trust their students here and that means that most of the work is done on your own schedule. Even better... I get to set up my own routine. Control freaks like myself can delight in such privilege.

Does this mean my blog entries will soon be riddled with boring observations about education and its impact all over the world? Of course it does, and you should be interested! Okay, okay, and you can still depend on flighty, random observations of life because I am flighty and random. Cheers to that.