Uni Life

Life at uni in Aus is much like college in the States. Extreme procrastination (already), texters-in-class (but more accepted), and professors who try so hard and then awkwardly await class participation that just doesn't surface. First day was Monday...interesting. Had an Asian professor for International Marketing who was pretty funny when you could decipher what he was saying. It was storming outside for just a minute, really when it storms here it's very brief - if you blink, you miss it, and that minute happened to occur during our class. The power goes out. No emergency lights in this classroom though, so when the power goes out, it goes OUT. Cave darkness. Half the class took this opportunity to get up and less-than-stealthily leave. Power comes on a minute later and the professor laughs that half the class is gone. Power out again. More kids sneak out. Power on and even fewer left. Power out. Cycle repeats. Happened about five times until teach realizes it's hopeless and dismisses us few remaining diehards.

Uni is also typical in the way we live and eat. Like bums. I currently have absolutely zero food to my name. The other day a few of us rounded up our remaining goods and had a little poolside picnic to hold us over until the AM. A nice little assortment. Here's what we conjured up:

Wednesday went into the city to search for Mardi Gras outfits. No luck, but such a fun day running amuck around Circular Quay and Oxford Street. Mardi Gras in Sydney is comparable to that in New Orleans. The big, gigantic, humungo gay & lesbian parade is this Saturday, followed by what will sure to be a night of unruly mayhem. Oxford Street is where it will be held, which is just about as interestingly flamboyant as West Hollywood.

Fantastic castle at Hyde Park.

On our meandering window tour of Oxford, we couldn't help but be drawn to a bizarre looking shop with random objects sticking out of the windows - such as a mannequin's legs, big random street signs with not-street sign words on them, chunks of trees, and so on. We walk in to find an eclectic woman with spiked bleach blonde hair, a screen print tee, and oh so curious as to who we are and where we are from. After she guesses where each of us are from, after about 13 tries, we are invited to search the shop. So bizarre. Bits of fabric, any size mason jar you could imagine, an assortment of craaaaazy costumes, brightly colored wigs, a giant hanging shark, squares of styrofoam, fake plant pieces, and the works.

Oh yes, and Plastic Stems. Now that's a dollar's worth.

So we are beyond bewildered after wandering through the three stories of various rooms and head back down, empty handed of course, to the shop owner asking us about Mardi Gras. I ask for some tips for the day of. She exclaims it's "crazy awesome fun," we should wear "next to nothing," and "bring a milk crate to stand on." A milk crate? Oh yes, to stand on to see the fantastic parade. A hot commodity they are. Sell for about $10 a pop if you decide you're done carrying it around. She even gave us her very own milk crate to take home and a private invitation to watch from the windows of her circus shop if we arrive before 5. So generous!

Milk crate.

I ask the woman if it's okay to drink on the streets. She laughs a bit before responding, "Of course darling, where do you think we are? We're Aussies!"

Should be a fun weekend.