Monday, January 10, 2011

Lola vs. The Land of Oz Part One

I’m writing this in a very Australian micro brewery on the shores of Manly beach with a deliciously foamy, mouth watering lager right in front of me. I just had lunch with a rather hot and hung over Aussie with incredibly wicked green eyes (who, during the previous night, had been causing all sorts of trouble at his brother’s buck’s party. How is it that I attract such trouble?) I had met on the plane last night coming back from Brisbane, where I was visiting my friend Paul. Sadly, hot hung over Aussie had to go back to work since it was his first day back from a ten day holiday but he did, with a quirk of his lips, give me quite an interesting invitation to meet up at some point during my last week here. Sigh.

Right across from where I’m cozied up in my corner booth, I can see the wharf , the white sand beaches, the tanned bodies of the professional surfers, and the curling swells of the ocean.

Yeah, I SO don’t want to go home.

This trip- and it’s not even over yet- has been unbelievable. Epic even. Maybe it’s my deeply rooted need to escape America or maybe it’s how amazing my friends are over here, but I have never felt more at home in a foreign place. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, I’m in awe over how incredibly lucky I am to have people in my life who will knock themselves out for me. I don’t understand it. After all, I’m shallow with no soul and my only redeeming quality is that I can shoot the hell out of zombies in Call of Duty. Well, that and big boobs. Can’t forget those.

When my life degraded into chaos, Australia was really the first place I wanted to go. I emailed my friends Danielle (Sexy Sydney) and Paul (Beautiful Brisbane or Brisvegas as it is affectionately known) who have been inviting me over here for years and pleaded with them to take some time to play with me. Which they did.

I’ve been taken to one of the finest, most exclusive restaurants in Sydney and gotten the best table in the house because the owner, a personality in Sydney, is my friend’s boyfriends best mate, flitted through the Sydney Opera house, driven up to the Blue Mountains where I insulted some Asians, had a traditional aussie meal cooked for me, visited the home of the Crocodile Hunter, got into some trouble on the Sunshine coast, serenaded a wonderful man named Mike who has an amazing back story, played the worst game of drunken charades in my life, and got drenched while cuddling a koala and feeding a roo.

Unfortunately some of the above has wound up on video. To my chagrin and my friends’ endless amusement that is. They are particularly fond of the one where I almost get into a fight with a seven year old over a kangaroo feeding. Clearly not my finest moment. But fun just as well.

In fact I’ve had so much fun here that I’ve completely forgotten to be jet lagged. Even when I got off the plane at 8 am after a nearly a 26 hour trip, I had a huge grin on my face and a nervous energy that must have been coming off me in waves. So you can imagine my reaction after Danielle picked me up at the Sydney airport and nearly the first words out of her mouth were, “Right well you’re welcome to bring any feral random Aussie back to my house for a shagfeast since you’ve got your own room, doll.”

I bet you’re wondering if I took her offer to heart. Considering that it’s me and I’m a million miles away from, well, anyone I may or may not have been dating it did sound quite enticing. Maybe not the feral bit of it. Since that brings to mind slobbering, dirty men jumping out of bushes. But the random Aussie part, I find I quite liked.

I’ve always had a penchant for the Irish but I am learning that Aussie men, with their knowledge of travel, devil may care attitude, and just plain manly way of doing things, are rapidly making their way into my heart. Or at the very least into my lust-filled thoughts. And I must say I’ve been surprised at how I’ve gotten into theirs. I’ve always thought that Americans were seen as the bane of everyone else’s existence. Or at the very least vapid and self-centered.

Given the fact that I’ve met a few random Aussie men who have been mentioned above, I have been given quite the choice dear readers. But, alas, that will probably have to be discussed in part two. Or I could always just keep this delicious little morsel to myself.

What do you think?

Sunday, January 2, 2011

Lola vs. Happy New Year Bitches

Some of you know why I've been gone these past two months. If you don't let's just say that I've been through a pretty big personal tragedy. The kind that's almost physical in how incredibly painful it is. As some of you are well aware, I am a huge fan of bottling things up inside and that's how I choose to deal with this at the moment. Healthy? Probably not. Do I care? Hell to the no.

There are, however, a few things I have learned over the past few months during the dark times.

1) Grief makes people horny. I deduce this because I have been asked out/hit on about four times in the weeks since said personal tragedy. I've had offers of semi-naked football watching (my favorite by the way), of free drinks, of a "cardio" work out partner, and one very interesting "why don't you come over and bring your puppy so we can have a play date?"

2) This goes directly in conjuction with number one. I have finally found the absolute most awkward place to be hit on. At a repass.

3) No matter what I do over the next few months, I live in a judgement free zone. According to my friends, I get a free pass for awhile. Yes, I am smiling wickedly as I type this. Doing morally irreprehensible things with little to no consequence? Sign me the eff up.

4) If one more person asks me "How I'm hanging in?" I'm going to slap a bitch.

In the meantime, dear readers, I am off to escape. From people who I've come to care about. And from life in general. Where am I going? About as far as humanly possible from New Jersey.

So yeah, I'm heading down under. And I don't mean I'm going incognito. I'm heading to where it's summer, where there are sexy accents, where the people are laid-back and descend from convicts, and where I can do pretty much whatever I want regardless of consquences because of the very few people I know who live there. Add in the fact that it is about 22 hours by plane and Oz is just about as appealing as a foreign continent can be right now.

In fact, I'm sitting in the airport lounge as I type this. Hoorah for free internet.

A few of my friends are already taking bets on whether or not I come back. Or as someone put it, " if you do come back, you're completely going to have someone follow you back, aren't you?"

Any takers on that bet?

See you soon fellow bloggers. Maybe even in the form of a scandelous update from Oz.