"Ra Ra Rass...Kick Em in the Other Knee!"

Finally. The week started with the opening day of a real sport: rugby. Thank friggen God. Imagine your Sportscenter back home consisting of cricket, soccer and swimming, and… have I already lost you? You’ve hung yourself, haven’t you. But put away your suicidal thoughts, for American sports fans studying abroad have something to live for again! Tis now the season of the terrifically terrifying Gooooold Cooooooast Tiiii-Tans!!!

Armed with our newly purchased, sweet Titans’ merch—they have UCLA’s colors, which fortunately goes well with my coloring—a large group of us arrived to ‘Skilled Stadium,’ positively overflowing with pent-up fandom that had seen no release since the showing of the Superbowl. Lee bought the first round of drinks, and it was ON. We cheered, screamed, clapped, booed, gestured (both appropriate and not), trash-talked and drank our way through two blissful halves of rugby. When the dust settled, appx. 70% of the people originally sitting near us had moved, our team had won, and we were all adequately drunk.

Some Highlights from the Match:

-Trying to get the wave to catch on.

-Jamie and her giant, inflatable Titans hand. It was like a giant foam finger on crack. It was like a pool toy. If you were dropped into the ocean, this giant hand could keep at least 2 people afloat until the Coast Guard showed up.

-Jamie using said hand to mime inappropriate and hilarious ‘ass-slapping’ on the elderly, awkward teenage boys and other unsuspecting bystanders.

-Jamie pointing the giant hand at any opposing team fans and yelling, “BOOOOOOO!”

-Your author overhearing the gentleman next to us whispering, “Dude, I think she’s [Jamie] getting arrested,” when the cop made some rounds through our section.

All in all, the rugby game was one of the single most fun experiences of the trip thus far…but they still ain’t got nothing on the NFL down here!

After we had sobered up (by 6 pm), Jamie, Lee, Jackie and Myself decided it was time for some “us” time. Jamie and Lee started by chatting Jackie and myself up about this sea scrub salt—‘just a dime sized amount and you have it all year!’ But the proof was in the pudding. In a moment of true bonding, the four of us gave each other foot scrubs. And when we were finished, the soles of my feet could easily be mistaken as a baby’s bottom by a blind man.

This week, I actually had quite the workload—funny how that happens when you miss a month of school. But one of my classes proved particularly enjoyable despite the work—Australian History. During our tutorial, we discussed the relevancy of the AUNZUS treaty. This was an agreement formed during WWII between Australia, New Zealand and the States that stipulated an attack on any one of these nations would result in retaliation from all three. Later NZ backed out, but honestly who gives a shit? (“Oh no! the kiwis won’t protect me from Middle Eastern conflict?!?! Why? WHY?) However, the AU US connection was recently acted upon after 9/11, when Australia was the first nation to support us. This brings us to a point in the class discussion that I will relay verbatim:

Prof. Robinson- ::looking at me and Jackie:: “Well girls, what do you think? If Australia was ever in trouble would the U.S be there for us?”

Me: “Oh, definitely. We’ll get into it with anybody.”

Jackie: ::whispers:: “America, fu*k yeah.”

Yippee! Just know that Jackie and I are over here acting as the finest of ambassadors for the U.S, doing our best to refute the stereotypes many nations harbor about us. You can count on us ;)

After a grueling 3 days of classes, it was finally weekend again. And Jackie and I made our trip to Australia official. We did what every person who visits here is required to do before returning to home.

We petted koalas and kangaroos. At the Currumbin Wildlife Sactuary.

The koalas were my favorite. I melted into a puddle of goo upon seeing the baby koala, and my voice was 3-4 octaves higher than usually for a good 2-2.5 hours afterwards. Also I named the baby koala, “Pancho.” Don’t ask. Just know it fit.

My infatuation with koalas was made official when I was able to hold a 2 year old koala named Ginger. Upon cuddling Ginger, I had a strange and inexplicable compulsion to sing a certain song… it goes like,

"Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, Too-ra-loo-ra-li, Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, that's an Irish lullaby."

Weird.

So that was the week. Super stressful, so the beach day at Burleigh Heads was completely necessary. Obviously.

Cultural Observations:

-So St. Paddy’s was a let down. No corned beef and cabbage!!! No one has ever heard of it. So we had a “Nacho Crawl,” instead. And because I ate Mexican food on St. Paddy’s, I will be going to Church for the first time since I was confirmed when I get back. I am ashamed.

-My brother made up for my actions, however. Back home, he ran in the St. Paddy’s Day Road Race 10 K in a green shirt that read, “These colors don’t run…fast,” and with a cigar in his mouth the WHOLE WAY. What a champ. Cheers to you broski!

-The cafeteria here is run by communists!!! Jackie asks for an iced latte. They say no; they’ll only make hot. Jackie says, “Couldn’t you put the shot of expresso in the cold milk that you take out of the fridge and then proceed to heat up afterwards?” No. Of course not. Because they are commies.

-Evidence #2 that the cafeteria is run by commies. I buy my dinner and pay for a side salad. I go to the salad bar to get a side salad, and the lady asks me for my plate. I look down at my plate (covered 99% in tilapia and jasmine rice) and say, “Um, actually can I just have it on one of those plates (of which there are a stack of appx. 23)? Or even a small bowl?” I am then snapped at, “NO! You can only have one plate.” Screw you too, lady. “POCKETSAND!” Commie Pinko.