Beer Pong, Accents and New York

Who'd thunk that my accent was actually attractive to someone.

I've heard "You're accent is so sexy"

"American guys love the Australian accent"

"You have a funny accent"

"Are you from England?"

Actually one guy asked me if I thought American accents were attractive. I said I liked the southern drawl. Which I do. Normal Accents though.. not so much (but don't tell them that).

From my time college hopping I have observed the way the underage do their partying.
I've seen fake ID's, asking guys who were 21 (and getting turned down. He was from Germany or something though so I don't think it counts) to frats and basements that have been turned into pretty nifty bars complete with dance floor.
But what underage drinking event would be complete without Beer Pong?

I have graciously supplied you, dear readers (reader?...) with a link to wikipedia explaining all about it.
It is quite an amazing game. One that requires little skill, ping pong balls and a few cups. Red cups. Just like the movies. Although, my lovely Australian readers, you may use any cup, as we are deprived of such plastic masterpieces. Or hell, just drink the damn beer.

Ha which reminds me, someone asked me if I thought Fosters was a good beer.
I laughed, enough said.

I find that there is a lot of hype over how skilled you actually are at pong, but I think, just like playing pool, you have to get your eye and arm in and you're pretty much set as long as you're not totally inhebriated (although some might argue that that's half the fun).
Take last night for example: My wonderful friend KL and I ventured to a house party and apon arriving, wrote our names down on the list (because beer pong is a serious business). Eventually it was our turn and I managed, single handedly to make a remarkable come back to loose by only one cup instead of 10 because KL missed. every. shot.

I will miss these parties but alas, travel calls, especially a 23 hour train ride that i'm taking in about an hour and a half to where other than the Big Apple.
At least it's going to be more comfortable than the greyhound bus line.
But that's another story.

I Could Go Through my Journal But there's nothing like the Present.

and who doesn't like presents?

Sometimes I feel like America is one big cliche and none of my American friends get why i'm laughing or so amazed when I jump and down and go "I'VE SEEN THAT IN A MOVIE".
It must be a foreign thing. Or perhaps it's just me.

I find that a lot of the time America is referred to as the "fat and dumb" country. I just think they're pretty damn sneaky because hasn't anyone noticed that they seem to be running the world at the moment?

Saying that, i've always had a little soft spot in me saved for America. The people here are just so gosh darn nice! Well, the majority anyway. And perhaps they are a little too God loving, freaking (I mean fearing..) and abiding citizens but whatever.

In fact, typing this right now, I am face to face with two post it notes of my friends room mate which say "Giving it all to God" with a love heart and "To trust God is to have immeasurable peace."
Each to their own...

ooh I seem to have lost the little blinky cursor thing that tells me where i'm up to.

Digressing- At the University of Illinois I was accosted (perhaps not accosted but close) by two mormons. Now, Australia isn't too big on religion. I have very clear memories of dad trying to get me to go to Church when I was little and living in Kansas (see it's a very American thing) and me throwing a huge wobbly on the back steps. However, being 9 and dad being the far superior being in this situation my lungs were not enough protection from the power of God. Or at least dad.
Looking back I think it was all with good intentions- You know like dabbling in illegal substances to see if you like it and might want to persue it.

So these mormons come up to me sitting on the grass, interuppting a particularly delicious bit in Chocolat. They ask me if i've heard of them before. Yes. Are you religious? Not really. What about your parents? I guess dad is but mum isn't. I come from Australia, religion isn't that big there... Oh. Well. Do you want our book? If you read it and believe it the prophet will be real and prove the book.

You know at the stage of the conversation I just wanted to keep reading my book so I gave them my number which turned out to be wrong anyway and they went and approached the next person sitting alone.

I don't really have a problem with religions most of the time but PLEASE don't force it apon me. I will believe if I want to.

and then I got distracted by a group of cheerleaders (including boys) practicing on the lawn.

JUST LIKE THE MOVIES

Backtracking - The Adventure Begins - Canberra to Sydney

Even though i said i wouldn't, I still packed at the last minute. So last minute that it was almost 3:30 am by the time i got to bed and I had to wake up at 5 am. But oh well. It got done!

Dad came knocking at 5 and I had a shower and got ready to leave. Lots of last minute things i didn't do - like finish the last bit of cleaning my room but oh well. Actually in true form I forgot my medical forms, I even had them on the kitchen table and everything but it's okay, I can get dad to fax them through. 

I hugged mum goodbye and she started to cry, I teared up a bit but didn't until dad mentioned it on the plane and I had a little cry. Dad awkwardly sat there wondering why. What a male. 

The flight was short and painless and before we had even levelled out i the sky we were decending towards Sydney. 

The sunrise over Canberra was absolutely beautiful. 

I didn't have to wait long before the plane from Sydney to LA was open for boarding and a rather attractive guy sat next to me. Very Australian and not my type but he was nice enough. 

Suddenly it went from being 3 am sydney time to 6 or 7 am US time. But I think i'm getting that wrong. 

I'm going to say Saigon airport was far nicer than LAX but oh well.  A nice man who worked there directed me to the domestic terminal but then asked if i had any change - that's when i remembered the Americans work for tips. I gave him 20 cents Australian and felt a little bad. 

I decided to spend some money on a pass to a lounge because i'd be spending the next 10 hours of my life in the airport. It was safe and there was "free" food and internet.

8:40pm - Minor earthquake. It looked like the glass would break it wobbled so much. A lady came in to check on us and one of the men sitting here goes "that's California for you" 

Arrived at Dulles Airport and was greeted by one of the work men at camp.

I told myself i'd write in my journal everyday but it goes kinda like 

Camp Rim Rock day 1

Camp Rim Rock day 2

Camp Rim Rock day 3

Camp Rim Rock day 15?

and then there's a whole 2 months between that and a short catch up. 

and I ended my summer in Choctaw and granny panties...

Travels in the US of A

Stuffing yourself full of water before you go to bed after you're ridiculously drunk is the best. hangover cure. ever. 

So here's just a quick post to say that i'm still alive and have I got some stories to tell you. 

But first I have to write it down in my book of travels. Perhaps I could take photos of it and put them up here. Now there's an idea. 

Now this time it really is "To Be Continued"