It's too early in the journey for moldy clothes. But, as I said yesterday, you never know what the hell will happen.
So, I'm wandering around the lovely Botanical Gardens, intermingling with the delightful orchids and gazing thoughtfully at the tropical plants-- I'm quite propah, just in case anyone would care to notice me. Did I mention that women in their 40s are invisible? Or, maybe it's just me. As my father lovingly refers to my sister Fran and Me: Vogue and Vague. Guess which one I am. Well, Vague in any other country translates quite literally.
So, I'm vaguely wandering around the gardens. I visit the Opera House. And, by "visit," I mean to walk up the steps, take a token picture, become too embarassed to ask someone to take MY picture in front of the place, and leave. One cool detail I did not know about was that the Opera house roof has over 1,000,000 white tiles (argh-- are they Swiss? historians, please). Anyway-- tons of tiles over these huge white "masts." Who the hell tiled these roofs??? (Sam, was it Aliens?)
Well, it sure wasn't Americans. We'd roll our eyes and take a cigarette break. The Opera House is reputed to be an architectural (spelling) disaster. Budgeted at 7 mil, it ended up costing 102 mi. The Danish Architect who won the opportunity to build it in a contest ended up quitting due to bureaucratic BS and never returned to witness his glorious vision.
I'm writing this without my Cliff Notes from yesterday, because I have only 20 minutes for this entry. Trying to economize, and I notice that the Blogging can easily take 30 bucks a day if I let it. And, I'm the type who would do that. I like the blogging, but it takes time to figure things out, and I want to hyper-economize. I'm feeling that blogging is more nutritious than food (and certainly more than booze), so that's me trade off. I think I'm more comfortable writing about my experiences than actually having them. I notice that I spend equal amounts of time everywhere just jotting things down. (Well, I didn't need to travel 10,000 miles to figure that one out!).
Thanks for the comments-- they help pave the way to feeling more confident in the entries and in staying each day (still fighting the urge to hop on board a plane and get the hell out of here).
Let's see... becoming increasingly interested in the whole Australian Apology. Australians overwhelmingly decided to acknowledge the horror that they inflicted upon the Aboriginal culture, back when AU was "discovered." They created "Sorry Day," back in 1997, I believe. On Sorry Day, people are.... you know.... sorry.
I did write something about this, so bear with me. Okay-- So, Sorry Day is the day Australians ( and by that, I mean everyone who arrived after the Aboriginals-- or in today's situation, everyone who is not a black Aboriginal. So, immigrants from the Philipines and Southeast Asia can be quite sorry, too, apparently.)
Anyway, Sorry Day is the day Australians say they're sorry for the persecution of the Aboriginals. They focus on the Stolen Generation-- 2,000 children-- mostly half-bred young girls of 10-14-- yanked from their families and given the honor of being servants for white families in an attempt to "gussy up." The goal was to make them suitable for marriage to um... real humans. The white boys who would dissipate their blackness and breed that nasty stain right out of humanity.
Perhaps it's a bit more humane than "Ethnic Cleansing," but more like... "Ethnic Smudging"? Does someone have a cuter term for it? I'd like to hear it. And, again, Chuck-- do the question marks live within the quotations? I forget that.
I'm afraid I'm less witty today. But, that's what hurried rough drafts will do for a Voice.
Sorry Day. A Day to celebrate blame of the superior race and colonization. this is so un-American. Imagine if Barack Obama created "My Bad" Day. A day for national atonement and global regret. National "Dear God, did we *** up Day." (How come we need to bleep out ****, but God is fine?)
How might you celebrate National "My Bad" Day with your family? Celebrate all the "sorrys" of years gone past... sorry I cheated on you. sorry I beat up on you. sorry I ate the last piece of cheesecake (or gave that last piece of shrimp away at the Goten to a complete stranger).
Sorry I never made it to Australia? NOT!! Schwing!
A few corrections from yesterday. The First Fleet was 11 ships and arrived 18-20 Jan, 1788 with Captain Arthur Philip. 700 convicts traveled on that 8 month voyage. Captain Philip raises the flag on 26 Jan, 1788. The description ran: "Public crisis for 18th century Britian. They and thousands like them (convicts from the First Fleet) who avoided the gaols (gallows?), sat distressed and sick in rotting old ships in Britians waterways because the gaols were full. Establishing a penal colony was the proposed solution. Part Social Experiment part Strategic Opportunity to get the better of the French, Dutch, and Spanish in the Pacific.
The Rather Annoyed art dealer's name was Paris, not Francis. Now you can all rest easier tonight knowing that, eh?
Oh, the rest of the day had me caught in a blustering rainstorm-- the kind that drenches you in 30 seconds. I hurried on to the saltwater pool-- remember the one I wanted to visit? Turns out it's closed for the winter. Reopens September. So, drenched and still raining, I decided to walk the mile back to the hotel (Vague, not Vogue). And, guess what? People do notice a Vague 45 year-old woman who wears frumpy clothes and no makeup. They notice her when she's the only one mad enough to walk a mile back to a hotel in the pouring rain, as free buses pass by (too embarassed to board the bus).
Oh, guess what else? I had breakfast with Margaret's family today, and her daughter Althea who lives in Darwin says that they are desparately seeking teachers there. Especially teachers who have expertise in Learning Disabilities. Said one might find work teaching aboriginal children.
Dot. Dot. Dot.
love to all. Miss you guys more than I thought. Funny how travel does that. You think life will be amazing and exotic, and you end up just wanting to be farted on, by your kids.
Susie the Vague.
Hello
Hello back. Confirm that you're getting these comments before I let my eloquence unfurl.