Saturday, October 24, 2009

Birthdays all around

First and foremost, THANKS to everyone for the birthday wishes. Via gmail, facebook and traditional Hallmark greeting, I have enjoyed all the love.

24 is kinda a lame age, but you know. It's cool.

What's WAY cooler is a 1st birthday. On October 21, ExpatEscapades celebrated its first year of life!!! Yay. Which means, over a year ago, I landed in Bangkok.

Damn.

My mom celebrated her birthday on the 21st too. But I'm not allowed to tell you how many candles she got.

Thanks for virtually hanging out with me for the most amazing year of my life. Hope it's been entertaining.

Cause, let's be real. It's all downhill from here ... ;)

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

Singapore – where lashing WORKS!

As we all learned on GLEE a few weeks ago, Singapore is a very very safe, clean country. Because they lash people there. And it works.

Singapore is also the end of the line for the Asian blog chapters. I know, it only took me 6 months to finish.

So, yes. From Malaysia we caught another night train to Singapore, a gorgeous island country that is basically a little Australia in a lot of ways. Nicer, even.

The official language is English, which caught me by surprise. Traffic laws are obeyed, there’s no trash on the ground. People are courteous and have very Western-like mannerisms. But everyone is Asian … crazy. I know.

Due to a serious decrease in the value of the American dollar, Singapore was by far the most expensive country we visited. It took us a while to find a place, which ended up being a bare - but clean - room above a bar. Which, I recently learned, was a rip-off of another bar in Melbourne. But that’s beside the point.

It was a really quick trip – 2 or 3 days – that we filled with museums, culture centers, etc. One night we made the awesome decision to visit the night safari, which is basically a zoo of nighttime animals.

Awesome.

Oh, and proof that ligers DO exist!


Most of the place was meant to be explored on this little tram thingy, but we did a lot on foot first. There was this little bridge over a pond at the end of one stretch. It didn’t look like there were any animals around, except for this little deer the size of a chihuahua. Weird.

As we sat there and watched this little deer-rat, backs to the pond, we heard a loud POP. All of a sudden, 5 of THESE bitches surfaced only a few feet away from us.

Apparently, they are called gharials. And they are scary.

Creepy. Seriously. Remember, it was dark, and we were there kinda late.

Then they sank away without a sound. And then resurfaced. And went back down. In sync.

I think they wanted to eat Adam.

Either way, it was nightmare material.

Other than that, we explored Singapore in the same manner as the rest of the trip.

We drank, we walked, we drank.

Oh, and we rode this CRAZY ASS slingshot ride on the main drag, which is called Clarks Quay. Pronounced "key."



They had a video thing on you the entire time you were on the ride, including the few minutes before the launch. Then, when you got off, you got to watch the video of your ride (with the option to buy).

Of course, I was a SERIOUS potty mouth the ENTIRE time. Especially at the end, when we were dangling in the air and I figured no one could hear us. Adult rides are meant for adult language, right?

When we got down, they played our video. On the big screen, with surround sound. In front of a line of 30 people, including some young children.

I’ve never been so embarrassed in my entire life.

That might be an exaggeration, but still.

Oh, and I decided at noon one day that I wanted to pierce my nose. By 3pm, I was sporting a stud.

Unfortunately, said nose ring recently fell out during one of my drunken escapades. It closed overnight.

Bummer, dude.

After that, we headed back to BKK. Adam hitched a ride back to MI, I meditated for a few days, and eventually, landed in Oz.

You know what happened after that ;)

Wednesday, October 7, 2009

Some flava

I'm an awesome nanny, and I've started baking once in a while. Good for the kids, bad for my waistline. Blah blah.

I couldn't find my grandma's banana bread recipe. So I did a little searchy-searchy online.

Apparently, there is a whole website dedicated to banana bread recipes alone

Not only did the site have great recipes. It also had comments from fellow bakers - including this little gem from Barbara Louis Underwater:

"Here in the south, people are getting a little chubby so I needed a healthy banana bread recipe to serve at my get-togethers to give my guests some flava. but after hearing that my best friend paula broke her scale the other day, i knew i couldn't use my butta flavad crisco recipe nomore. thanks banana bread recipes!"

Amen, sister. Thanks banana bread recipes!

Tuesday, September 29, 2009

Chicken vs. fish. Cairns, part 2.

After the waterfall extravaganza, Team America took a day to relax and enjoy the beaches of Cairns. Not that Cairns really has beaches – but, you know, the neighboring town does. The actual coast of Cairns is covered in clayish mud instead of sand. Not exactly sunbathing material.

Trinity Beach, however, was sunbathing material. And looked like it could be a topless beach, judging from the girls around us. So, for a brief moment, just to make Amanda uncomfortable, I went topless as well.

But then I stopped, because I didn’t want to get arrested.

This kinda became a theme of the trip. Getting naked to make Schrama uncomfortable. I think at one point I got up on her without pants on or something.

I didn’t care, but she totally did.

I would have done it to Cait, but she didn’t care either. “Whatever, man.”

In any case, we enjoyed a beautiful afternoon, during which we ran into one of our touring English friends from the day before. She asked Caitlin how her date went, referring to the American guy with the crazy friend that she knew from Sydney, and again from the bar in Cairns.

How did this lady know that Caitlin was going to see this guy again? Oh, because Cait told the whole damn bus how great this guy was in bed. And how excited she was to see him again.

1 more point for Team America.

After a bus ride back to the hostel with the most annoying southern ladies with the grossest hackers cough voices ever, we showered up and headed out for a fancy coastal dinner. With wine and appetizers and everything.

The whole specials menu sounded great, and seemed kinda cheap. There was one dish I didn’t quite recognize.

Umm, maam’, which is your favorite fish? And what do you think of this one on the specials menu?”

“That’s not a fish. That’s chicken.”

Priceless.

After dinner, and half a bottle of wine to myself, we walked back towards the hostel, gelato on the brain. Some Aussie dudes walk by and compliment me on my dress.

“That is gorgeous on you. Great color.”

“Thanks. I don’t suppose my tits hanging out is what caught your attention?”

Umm, wait, lemme see?”

As I turned my head to follow up on my sassy-ass comment, my body continued on without me. Before I could throw another zing out, I ran into innocent little Caitlin. We both nearly fell over.

It was super smooth and cool.

We got awesome gelato and headed home.

End day 3.

Monday, September 28, 2009

Just an afternoon in the office

While sitting, drinking tea, watching kids eat afternoon snack. Talking with my 2 middle boys, 6 and 10 years old.

6y/o - (Getting up from table after finishing sandwich) "I don't have hiccups anymore I think I'll have one of those nut bars my penis hurts."

Me - "Drink some water anyways ... Wait, what did you just say?"

6 y/o - "I think I'll have a nut bar."

Me - "Before that."

10 y/o - "His penis hurts."

6 y/o - "Yeah, it stings a little."

Me - "Umm, that's not good."

10 y/o -"It's from playing with it too much. (pause) It happens to me sometimes too."

There are three drunk Americans on this bus … in Cairns

As I may have mentioned in a previous post, there was a serious outbreak of swine flu in Australia a few months back. As I prepped for my return to the States, it was decided that I should plan to stay away from the kids for my first week back in Oz. In case I was carrying pig sickness.

When the time came, it seemed like this was unnecessary and I could go straight back to work after 4 weeks off. Buuut, I already had a ticket to the Great Barrier Reef. Oh well.

Thanks to a delayed flight to LA from Detroit … and an even longer delay in LA to Sydney … I wasn’t even in Australia for 24 hours before getting on an early ass plane to Cairns. I met Schrama and Ufer in the airport around 5:30am or some shit. By 10am we were in Cairns, ready for trouble.

We checked into the hostel, got our keys and went to the room. And were met by a terrible drunk boy stench and some near-dead kids in a couple of dorm beds.

Three hours later, we returned to find them in the same exact state. As we quietly went about unpacking, I discovered a condom wrapper in my “clean” bed, wrapped in my “new” yet crumpled sheets.

No discussion necessary. In a blink of an eye we packed again, and were quickly moved into a girls only dorm on the other side of the building.

Ahh. Much better.

Our roommate was still weird, and woke up really early, and insisted on turning the fan off in the middle of the night and closing the door so I woke up sweating and annoyed. But at least she didn’t smell bad or have sex in my bed. That I know of.

I don’t think she thought much of us either. She told Schrama on our first day that she was staying a while. Then quietly slipped off at the crack of dawn on our second night.

Whatevs. We basically had the place to ourselves the rest of the time.

During our first day in we booked a couple of great tours. One was the obligatory snorkeling and diving on the reef. The second was a totally random tablelands trip that the girls had heard of in Sydney.

On day 2 we woke early in anticipation of our waterfall adventure. After watching many well-maintained tour buses drive by our place, we were a little worried we’d been left behind.

A few minutes later a raggedy-old hippie looking minivan pulls up, and out hops our crazy dreadlock-and-Thai-fisherman-pants-sporting Kiwi tour guide.

In case you don’t know, Kiwi means from New Zealand.

“Those are some nice teeth,” he says to Amanda. “Where you guys from?”

“Umm, thanks. The States.”

“How you guys feeling this morning?”

“We’re great, but the one with the teeth was out late last night. With an Aussie. She’s struggling.”

“Watch out everyone. We’ve got Americans.”

And that’s how the day started. And Team America was born.

We quickly made friends with our Kiwi guide. He was married the week before, to a Welsh girl who gave him a threesome for their 3-week dating anniversary. That’s when he knew she was the one.

He had everyone do a roll call as we drove to the tablelands, so we could get to know each other. Key points included country of origin, relationship status and whether you fold or scrunch your toilet paper.

I’m gonna propose that as an addition to the Facebook basic info page.

I said “depends on the job.” For the record.

We went to three sites throughout the day, for swimming/hiking/generally getting into trouble. At the first stop we had breakfast and the Kiwi taught me how to squeeze the butts off of green ants and eat them.

Tastes like lemon.

After dominating the natural waterslide and busting up both of my knees on boulders, we went to lunch. Seeing as we were so entertaining sober, our guide decided to buy us tequila shots to see what other stupid shit we would say.

I was instantly drunk. So I ordered soco and lime shots all around. And a beer.

And then I was wasted. “Whatever we do guys, do NOT let me swim.”

You guys are terrible friends.

As we boarded the bus again, our guide informed us of our next stop. “Oh, and you guys, there are 3 drunk Americans on this bus. I’m not gonna name names …”

As we pulled out, the super nice bar lady comes running out the door holding a purse. “It’s gotta belong to someone on Team America,” replies the Kiwi.

“LISA!”

“Aw, shit guys. Thanks. Seriously, I’m not allowed to swim”

Twenty minutes later I was swimming again, this time in the COLDEST effing water ever, into a fairly strong waterfall current.

I wasn’t going to go in, but, you know. It’s easy to convince me.

Sydney and I decided to swim for it. Her name wasn’t Sydney, but I bet you can guess where she was from.

Schrama went in, and Caitlin was forced in. As you’ll see in the video below. I drunkenly escaped, but went back in later.




You notice in this little clip that there’s a creepy old dude taking pictures. Before we got in the water, he tried to get us girls to pose for a bikini picture. He even offered some monies. We politely declined.

Apparently, that didn’t stop him.

No one noticed this happening at the time. It was only later, on the bus, that the evidence was discovered.

After swimming we went to the cheese and chocolate factory, where Caitlin and I drunkenly gorged ourselves on cheese and crackers. And felt immediately ill.

Last stop was a gorgeous lake that I didn’t catch on film. It was quiet, and warm, and I peed in it.

After a late drive back, we grabbed some dinner, and Schrama cashed early. Caitlin and I went out to meet some friends of hers from Sydney.

These guys had hit on the girls on a ferry in Sydney, and I hear that the whole day was a blast. Caitlin and her dude ended up having a good time, but Schrama’s man turned out to be crazy. I wasn’t sure I believed her story, and I was willing to give homeboy a second chance.

I gave it the old college try, for Caitlin’s sake. I couldn’t let her show up at the bar alone.

5 minutes in, and he was going on and on and on about how Schrama had broken his heart … after knowing her for 15 hours. 10 minutes after that, he was yelling at me – literally – for liking tequila.

I smiled knowingly at Cait, said my goodbyes, and walked home.

And that was our first full day in Cairns.

I’ll think I’ll make this a 2-parter. Or maybe 3. I think that would be fitting …

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

Lisa’s triumphant return. For reals this time.


Yup yup, she’s doing it again. Sadly, a month earlier than planned.

Due to unexpected (and unethical) increases in airfare during the month of December, I will be returning to the States in November. November 18, to be specific.

This time will be “for good.” Or, until I get restless again.

Want to see more of me? Find me a job and an apartment, and I’m there.

Seriously. Anywhere. Gimme.

This will also mean that Expat Escapades will have to retire. I’m considering throwing a retirement party.

People bring presents to retirement parties, right?