Sunday, June 13, 2010

G'Day Mate? or "Will Whore for Australia", part 1.

I was born to live in Australia. Okay well, that's not entirely true. Until 2004, I was living in the happy bubble we call the United States. I didn't care if the people in Rwanda were dying-what the hell does that have to do with me? I never bothered to vote because, to be honest, I would listen to the news or TV commercials and decide who I wanted as president based on the facts they laid out in 30-second increments. Then I'd just forget to vote that day. (I almost voted for Bush. I ALMOST VOTED FOR BUSH!!!) I became closer, in the biblical sense, to my male best friend and hung on his every word. He talked logically and rationally about current events, politics, the environment, religion, etc. Most of the time I'll admit I turned on the happy music in my brain to tune him out when he started to go on and on about something like gun control, but he helped open my eyes a little bit when it came to "real" news. My news was Angelina Jolie adopting Maddox or a celebrity dying. One day it dawned on me that I wanted something more from my best friend then a friend, and laid it out for him and spoke from the heart on why we would be a great match. His response? "You're not girlfriend material". You're not girlfriend material. That sentence has forever been branded into my head. I asked him why, and he compared me to his ex: She had a bookcase full of books, she was an English major at a University, she cared about what was going on in the world. Hopefully you have at least read one of my blogs to know I like to mold myself into whatever shape the other person needs me to be, so I tried to become everything he told me I wasn't. At the doctor's office, I picked up Newsweek instead of Entertainment Weekly. I subscribed to MSNBC news feeds on my computer. I volunteered to be an election officer at the 2004 elections. Something funny along the way happened: I actually liked news. I liked knowing about global warming. I liked being able to have an opinion about Republicans vs. Democrats. And I know in my heart the guy I was doing this all for liked me more because I cared about what he liked. I'm still annoyed he refused to watch "America's Next Top Model" with me, though.

Damn it, this was supposed to be a blog about Australia! Let me get back to that (damn my ADD!). During the time I was trying to be Ms. Perfect-to-Him, I met a guy online that lived in Melbourne, Australia. At the time we would just chit-chat about video games and he would rib me for being American, and I would drool over his accent. I didn't know much at all about Australia, let's see: Koala Bears, Vegemite, Kangaroos, Shrimp on the Barbie, Sydney Opera House, Heath Ledger, G'Day Mate, and the stupid "u" they added to all their words. The guy, by the way, wasn't my type at all; I have a 5-year boyfriend age limit up or down, and he was older than my brother (9 years). He smoked pot. Listened to death metal. But he was a good guy, and he liked me, which automatically got me interested in him. He was the first guy to ever send me roses (at my work no less! Women, you know when other girls fawn and hate you for flowers, it's the best feeling in the world!), and at that point I was all-in. He offered to fly me over, and I was able to get a week off of work. My poor mom was terrified: What if he is an axe-murderer? What if the plane crashes? What if you die, we can't afford to ship your corpse over! Thanks, mom. I had never taken a chance, so I held my breath and crossed the Pacific.

I fell in love the minute I landed. To the country, unfortunately, not the guy. Melbourne was so... contemporary! People on cafe sidewalks drinking espresso (2005 was long before my coffee addiction), a tram that carried you around the city, art galleries. We made spaghetti one night and didn't go to a supermarket: we went to the butcher, the produce stand, the bakery, the mom and pop shop for noodles. One other giant difference, though, was that their "world news" really was World News, not "how this world event affected America" world news. They were very aware that there were, in fact, other countries/wars/people/events out there other than only their countries struggles. I would sit and muse that I would just stay here and not take the return flight back. I could always get my clothes and things shipped, right? Well, reality set in. Where would I live? What about my job at home? What about friend/boyfriend in America? I took the flight home and cried and cried on the plane. I would never be back to Australia. I'm incapable of saving that much money for a trip. Ever.

When I got home, I would yearn and cry over my dream country. I realized how closed-minded and exceptional a lot of Americans thought they were. I would read blogs online how every other country was inferior to the United States, and how no one would ever be better than us. I joined a video game circle where everyone was Australian (but me), and I loved it. I fit in. I would ask them questions about Australia, they would rib me for being American. In late 2007 I started talking to an old friend from the circle and he ended up being my husband a year later. Hmmm...

I ended the previous paragraph early. I re-read my story and can only assume the title of this blog should be "Will Whore for Australia" or "I Caught Another Aussie!", or something to that effect. It reads like I was waiting to spring my claws into some poor mate and ride his coattails into the land Down Under. I have to admit, there is nothing sexier than an Australian accent (I'm still privy to English or South African as well). The reason I started talking to my now-husband (J) is because around Summer of '07, I was in a hole. Not like the hole I am in present-day, but everything fell apart around me and I was sitting around thinking, "who am I?" I never talked in online chats, but I did give my e-mail to J who had quit the video game circle. I remember him as always being friendly, courteous, and really funny. Anyway, one day J popped online and I vented to him about all the things that were going wrong and he listened. The end. Three or so months later he saw me online and said hi, and asked me about all the things I had vented to him about in the summer. I thought that pretty decent of him to remember and genuinely care, so I decided to continue to talk to him online. J could have very well been a little-brother type, honestly: He was five years younger than me, lived at home in a town of 8,000, and had very little real-life experience. We started talking via voice and although his accent was very Outback/Crocodile Dundee (Melbourne guy's accent was so...contemporary! Like he drank out of a brandy snifter and had eaten caviar before), he was incredibly funny and kind. I would talk and talk and talk and he would listen and remember little details. One night, I was bitching about my new cell phone not working and he Googled it for me and walked me through the set-up like a sweet Indian tech support would. At that moment I told him, "this is going to sound cheesy, but I just developed a crush on you". He told me he felt the same way.

The level of communication we shared was the deepest I had ever shared with someone, perhaps even more so with my best friend. By the time my best friend became "kind of boyfriend", I didn't talk to him as much about fears and stress because I wanted him to see me as perfect so we could one day live happily ever after. The way I saw it, my best friend loved me for who he thought I could one day be; J loved me for who I am. J never judged me, and his wisdom was that of a man much older than 22. I was working at my brand new restaurant job and every day I would come home and look forward to telling him about my day. Around Christmastime, we started talking about visiting one another one day. Australians happen to have awesome vacation benefits (thanks for my one week a year Uncle Sam), so we decided since I had been to Australia before, he would come visit me in the States. (So to everyone reading that thinks of me as an Australia slut, I gave up a chance at spending a week in Australia!)

As soon as he landed I fell in love. With the guy fortunately, not his country. He was what I expected. No doubts, no lies or fallacies, just J. We had an amazing holiday all over California (FYI-if you EVER go to Las Vegas, go on St. Patrick's Day. Best.Vegas.Trip.EVER!). It took him nine days to ask me to marry him, and nine seconds for me to accept. We immediately started discussing our trans-continental relationship. We decided since my job/assets/established life was better than how his was in Australia, J would move to the States. (So to everyone reading that thinks of me as an Australia slut, I gave up a chance at LIVING in Australia!)

Damn it, this blog was about MOVING to Australia, not my Australi-an! I'm going to make a "Part 2" of this blog, so keep reading (Damn my ADD!)...

3 comments:

Running Rabbit said...

cannot wait to read part 2--you definitely have the beginnings of a book here Hed, another talented writer in the family, too cool!

Anonymous said...

I never did manage to hear exactly how how you and J connected, all I knew was you wound up engaged all of a sudden (yes, I'm Spyder from SC). That's a really nice way to do it :)

hed said...

Yep Spy, that's the story :) Ps hi <3

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