Baby it's cold outside...

It is that time of year once more – a time when slightly cool winds and a dusting of snowflakes move through the Midwest for the winter…the time of year when Jennifer begins to look more affectionately at our space heater than at me…and the period of time where we seek out cheap airfares to warmer climates as we curse the heavens for delivering upon us the one inch of ice attached to our car. We enter this time period however feeling slightly more prepared than last year – and figure that if we are able to move through the winter without a car accident or a flooded apartment – then it will be a pleasant one. One thing I am yet to understand, is how to make this winter weather as romantic as Dean Martin when he alerts his lady friend to the fact that Its cold outside’…I have tried many times to make such information romantic…but it inspires nothing more than a barrage of profanity or a retreat under the covers from Jennifer…

We are now in LA for the Christmas break after a marathon 15 hour travel day from South Bend to Orange County. We did however receive our first Christmas gift when our final flight was overbooked and they asked for volunteers to wait three hours for the next one. Given we had already spent 12 hours in airports or on planes, we didn’t see much of an issue with an extra few hours, and thus volunteered. In return we received two wonderful round trip tickets to anywhere in the USA – the equivalent of $400 each for our regular trips to the West Coast. A day’s traveling to warmer weather, and a profit – not bad at all.

Finally – a quick piece of golden American advertising which recently arrived in the mail from Neptune Society: America’s Cremation Specialists. Following their self-proclaimed motto of being “Simple, Economical and Dignified”, Neptune was kind enough to offer the chance to win a pre-paid cremation! Now if that doesn’t get you in the holiday spirit…nothing will!

Pictured: Notre Dame after the first snow fall

Life in the fast lane...and its legal both ways!

There is a long list of the advantages and disadvantages that have come with moving to America. On the positive side: I have been able to experience a different culture, have not been held responsible for the elected President, am generally considered unique and exotic, have access to hundreds of cable channels, and basketball shoes are cheaper (this would be at the top of the list if I was rating them). Not so great is the need to jump through immigration hoops, to not be understood (sometimes a positive), more expensive health care and insurance, and as I experienced this past week...the need to revisit my teenage days and apply for a drivers license. The irony of obtaining my learners permit as a 27 year-old was especially amusing to friends and family...and Jennifer took great joy in 'teaching' me to drive. While having my photo taken for my learners permit I felt like I should consciously break out a few impressive pimples to make the transition backwards complete.

My first driving test was traumatic enough...and I still remember somehow managing to change lanes without indicating and then speed up to make it through a yellow light while exiting the carpark...an impressive and efficient 38 seconds into the test. While I managed to pass this test, with the help of my long eyelashes and flirtatious laugh with the male examiner, I had no desire to repeat this effort during a Midwestern winter. Fortunately, the weather held out, and accompanied by one of the meanest looking women I have seen, I prepared myself for the drive. The first test was to demonstrate my use of the indicator lights - simple to everyone else - but on the opposite side here to what I am used to - and thus I had to concentrate hard in order to not activate the windscreen wipers instead. All went smoothly though, and after a suitable amount of flirtatious giggling and batting of my eyelashes I had passed the test and was one step closer to being a number in every system in America. So I am now legally allowed to drive on both sides of the road...and like to mix it up a bit when I get homesick...so wave and then move if you see me coming.

Pictured: A fully-fledged licensed American driver!

Hard Rockin' Chicago

After arriving back from Portland and catching our breath, we welcomed Val, a friend from LA, as she arrived in South Bend to visit us for a few days. We took in the sites of the city and Notre Dame before heading to Chicago to celebrate Halloween on Saturday night. This trip we were traveling in style however, as Val was in town for business and had a room at the Hard Rock Hotel all set for our arrival. We checked in and raced downtown to see Val's brother's band play - who are touring at the moment -
before heading out for some dinner and drinks. Despite being under dressed for Halloween, we met up with some friends from Chicago and London, and toured the town in order to judge the most creative costume. There were some definite highlights of creativity - with crowd favorites including a gentleman with a box around his waste (Google 'Justin Timberlake in a box' for this crude reference), and a 6-foot guy dressed as a Whoopee Cushion. It was a brilliant night with some old friends, and now I promise, it is back to reality, and we will finally do some work.

Pictured: Jen and Val; and the view from our room.

Melbourne, Oregon.

Jen’s immediate family is not small, and is in fact closer to the population of a small country than the ‘parents and two-kids’ model that I grew up in. So after learning everyone’s name, a two-year process in itself, it was time to extend the circle and meet her Uncle’s and their families in Portland, Oregon. After our classes on Friday, we set off for Chicago, and after a quick stop in Denver, we arrived in Portland, looking as great as ever after a 14 hour trip on planes, trains and automobiles. While at night it was hard to get a feeling for the city, the following day I felt completely at home, and realized that I had arrived in the American version of Melbourne (yes this is bias…and yes Melbourne could be the Australian version of Portland…but I am writing…so it is as it is). We were welcomed warmly into Jen’s uncles homes, greeted many of the family from LA, and starting Saturday morning, began our whirlwind tour of Portland and the surrounding area.

It was an amazing few days, with all sorts of weather greeting us as we toured magnificentt waterfalls and scenic lookouts, the city of Portland and a possible school for Jen, as well as riding four-wheelers around Jerry & Wendy’s beautiful property away from the city. While staying with Luis & Christina, Luis provided background music for many of our adventures, as well as proving to be a most capable tour guide, complete with ‘hole-in-the-wall’ eating recommendations and cheesy jokes. Finally, Lucas and Kirsten happily set aside any possibility of getting something accomplished over the weekend, and were more than willing to provide us with hangovers to take sightseeing the next day. In all, the time went far too quickly, but thanks to the entire family, we were able to see so much in just a few days. Now it is back to reality…and the six-week countdown to the Christmas break.

Pictured: Scenic lookout and waterfalls; Jen four-wheeling; Portland.

"E" is for "Apple"

Three months ago I began training as a volunteer at a foundation here in South Bend that provides free tutoring to children with dyslexia. This amazing organization provides three years of one-on-one tutoring for children in the community, whose families are unable to afford such services. It has also served to provide me with one of the most uniquely humbling experiences of my life.

As a professional student who refuses to get a job, I am very comfortable in the academic domain. I have my own little research field which I can talk about until your ears bleed, I can skim book chapters, read abstracts in place of entire articles, use unnecessarily big words, and look serious and busy so nobody thinks academics' have it easy. Further, despite being Australian, I was under the impression that I had a fairly decent grasp of the English language. I am no longer under this impression. I didn't think that helping kids to read would be too much of learning curve...how wrong I was. It really only takes one time for a 10 year-old to correct your pronunciation for you to throw your entire ego out the door...an ironic and uniquely enjoyable experience indeed.

Once you start getting down to it, the English language is pretty damn complicated. Apparently there are all these different catergories including so-called 'verbs' or 'adjectives'. Then there is the phonetic aspect of language comprehension, which I have realized does not mix well with an Australian accent. So as if these poor kids aren't doing it tough already, now they end up with friggin Crocodile Dundee as a tutor - who is going to attempt to teach them to read with a strange accent. Plus, given that I was never really exposed to the wonderful world of 'digraphs' and 'r-controlled vowels' - it is back to square one in a beautifully humbling manner. I am also of course surrounded by professional educators, the sorts of 30 year veteran teachers who create lesson plans as if they were breaking wind. So I am well and truly out of my depth, and for some reason, I am enjoying it.

C'arn the Cats!

There was something ironic, yet special, about singing the National Anthem at the top of my lungs while standing in a Chicago bar surrounded by 250 fellow idiot Australians on Grand Final day/night. A chorus that I barely knew came flooding back as the crowd, fueled by the magical taste of Coopers, burst into passionate song. It was indeed a special feeling as we all settled down to watch the AFL Grand Final from afar, especially for those Geelong supporters in the crowd who no doubt believed that another Final loss would result in the town of Geelong being removed from the Australian map.

After a few minutes explaining the basic rules to our fellow Americans, we watched the game unfold. The few Americans in the bar were vastly outnumbered...and not that popular either...with two foreign gentleman in the bathroom commenting that 'they would rather be ***** American than a Port Adelaide fan'. Three hours later, and with Jen (in her Geelong jersey) asleep at the bar, the few dedicated fans who remained threw a final fist in the air as the siren sounded. What a wonderful night it was to see Geelong finally take home the flag...and while it may have been sweeter still to share such a moment with the crazed Peat/Dunstan family in Melbourne...this was one I was glad to have seen...even if it was in a shady bar in the Midwest of America.
The following day was spent carrying a well-deserved hangover around Chicago - and some quality time spent with Jasper and Judette at the Hyde Park Jazz Festival - where some sax players blew the crowd away...no pun intended.

Pictured: We are Geelong...and the First 'Annual' Jazz Festival in Hyde Park.

Moving on...and moving out!

A question...what is the last thing you would feel like doing after flying back from a week in London...arriving home with an almighty hangover from the flight...and with work scheduled all weekend? Does moving apartments sound like a possible winner...?
So the only thing more stupid than accidentally scheduling our move date the weekend of our return...was purposely scheduling our move date the weekend of our return...and thinking this was a good idea at the time. We figured that we would already be packed...we were moving to an apartment in the same complex...and really...we don't have that much stuff after all?? Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! After 8 hours of trips back and forth with our contents (with one trip solely devoted to Jennifer's shoe collection)...the apartment looked exactly the same as when we started...and thus we climbed into bed at the end of the most unsatisfying day of labor imaginable. The next day was slightly more bearable...with the furniture finally moving with the help of some free labor...and our new apartment taking shape. By late Sunday night it was done...we were nearly dead...and the only thing left to do was to once again reminisce about the fact we arrived in South Bend...one year ago...with only a car load of belongings. This was indeed an impressive lesson in the art of material accumulation!

Visiting the Queen...

With four hard weeks of the semester behind us...and starting to feel like life was all a bit too much like hard work...an academic perk came to the rescue...with the week arriving that would see us fly to London for me to attend a conference. Fortunately for me (and Jen - who decided that London was too good to pass up), one of the top psycho-oncology societies is run by men and women who consider conferences to be largely social events - and one that should take place in exotic European locations. Thus last Friday we were on a plane to London for a week of sightseeing, London pubs, catching up with friends and family...and attending conference sessions.

It was an incredible week - with time spent with my most hospitable family on the outskirts of London; drinks with friends who we had not seen in years; and afternoons spent in Hyde park and all around London. We visited all the museums and galleries we could, rode double decker buses to nowhere in particular, and escaped to Richmond where I used to work, and to the nearby area where my grandmother lived. We were also fortunate enough to be welcomed into a friends home in Hampstead - where we lived the London high life for a day or two - as well as feeling a pressing need to discuss my relationship with my mother - only to find out that we were indeed only a few houses along the street from where good ol' Sigmund Freud lived. In all - it was a wonderful week - and one that we felt very fortunate to have been given.

Pictured: Hyde Park's many sites, and the House of Freud...tell me about YOUR mother.

The Annual Blueberry Festival…without Blueberries.

The second week back in town saw the start of classes, the return to routines, and the consequent need for distraction during the upcoming weekend. The distraction came in the form of a German named Jasper – a close friend from UCLA – and recent international student arrival to Chicago. With a weekend to plan – we decided we would need to find some serious Midwestern fun…thus…on Saturday morning…with a hangover in tow…we found ourselves standing in another world…the Annual Blueberry Festival in Plymouth, Indiana.

The locals made us feel most welcome as we arrived in town…with one fine gentleman declaring as we drove past…’…if you hit me, I will hit you back’. Fair enough I say! Then we began our tour of our first Midwestern Festival – and the most striking array of gastronomical adventures I have seen in awhile. From deep fried Twinkies to chocolate-dipped cheese cake on a stick…turkey legs the size of small children…elephant ears and anything else you could possibly imagine to deep fry. As we walked around…taking a day off our lives with every bite of food…the most amazing aspect of the festival was the distinct lack of blueberries. Granted – you could have get them mixed with sugar...in a smoothie or ice cream – but if you just wanted plain blueberries – then the blueberry festival was not the place to be. A cool experience none-the-less – and then it was back to South Bend to partake in the insanity that is Notre Dame Football.

Death By Spam

We are all familiar with the all-to-frequent emails that offer us millions of dollars for simply providing some poor political prisoner or heiress with our bank account details (and all our money of course) – but this one that I received last week decided to take a different tact with its readership – I think they should be commended for their creativity and willingness to think outside the box!

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This is the only way I could contact you for now, I want you to be very careful about this and keep this secret with you until I make out space for us to see. You have no need of knowing who I am or where I am from. I know this may sound very surprising to you but it's the situation. i have been paid some ransom in advance to terminate you with some reasons listed to me by my employer. It's someone I believe you call a friend; I have followed you closely for a while now and have seen that you are innocent of the accusations he leveled against you. Do not contact the police or try to send a copy of this to them, because if you do, I will know, and might be pushed to do what I have been paid to this is the 1st time I turn out to be a betrayer in my job. I took pity on you, that is why I have made up my mind to help you if you are willing to help yourself.

Now listen, I will arrange for us to see face to face, but before that, I need $6000. I will come to your home or you determine where you wish we meet; I repeat, do not arrange for the cops and if you play hard to get, it will be extended to your family. Do not set any camera to cover us or set up any tape to record our conversation, my employer is in my control now.

Payment details will be provided for you to make a part payment of $3000 first, which will serve as guarantee that you are ready to co-operate, then one of my boys will deliver a copy of the video tape to you that contains his request for me to terminate you (I tape recorded our conversation), which will be enough evidence for you to take any legal action against him. i advice you be fast about this before he employs another person for the job. You will pay the balance of $3000 once you receive the tape.

Warning; do not contact the police, make sure you stay indoors once it is 7.30pm until this whole thing is sorted out, if you neglect any of these warnings, you will have yourself to blame. You do not have much time, so get back to me immediately. Note: I will advise you keep this to yourself alone, not even a friend or a family member should know about it because it could be one of them.

Contact me for now on this e mail: rebel@ameinfo.com

Good Luck.

------------

Good luck indeed!

Saying goodbye to the city

My final week in New York brought with it the same degree of insanity and chaos that had characterized every other week here – amazing – but exhausting. The internship experience here has involved daily meetings with individuals who could significantly influence my future in the field – and thus maintaining the constant façade of intelligence has been exhausting. For nine long hours each day I would ensure that my witty repertoire of jokes involving New Zealanders and sheep was kept in check – pronounce each word properly – including each and every friggin ‘r’ so that I was easily understood – contributed knowing glances and frightfully well-executed head nods during departmental meetings – and provided my fair-share of well-timed and insightful responses like ‘that IS interesting’ and ‘lets brainstorm that for the next meeting’. All in all it was an incredible experience – and provided an invaluable opportunity to meet those working in the field and learn from them first-hand. On a more amusing note – after a final dinner with my supervisor –we found out later that her friend at dinner was none other than George Bush’s cousin – he strangely enough doesn’t like to bring this up at dinner.

The countdown to my NYC departure also brought a visitor – with Steph flying out to the Big Apple to take advantage of the ‘broom closet on steroids’ that I call a bedroom. Despite work commitments the three of us were able to launch ourselves into some of the many unique gastronomical adventures that the city has to offer. These included a very causal ‘death by chocolate’ at the famous Serendipity 3 – where even my sweet tooth was no match for their sundaes and frozen hot chocolates. This particular venue also possesses the world’s most expensive sundae - $1000 (Guinness Book of Records) – with 48 hours notice being needed to fly in the ingredients. I am still not sure which is worse – the fact that this even exists – or that someone actually purchases one about each month. Given the price – I would want to ensure I was - at the very least – highly constipated for two weeks to really get my moneys worth. After this healthy indulgence it was off to Magnolia – purveyor of fine cupcakes – and while the irony of standing in a line at 10pm for a cupcake seemed to be lost on most people in attendance – these little cups of heaven were well worth the wait. Oh yeah – and we went to the Metropolitan Museum of Art – not bad – but after setting the bar so high with the cupcakes – it was always going to be tough for a few Monet’s or Van Gough’s to stand out.

Now – as the summer comes to a close – and I pack up my bag once more – it is time to return to Notre Dame, get back to work, and stop enjoying life so damn much!

Pictured: Death by Chocolate at Serendipity & New York from the air

Bringing it to Beantown

After six weeks of taking care of myself - oblivious to my unkempt appearance and the mysterious odor being emitted from my closet - living on eggs, breakfast cereal and bananas - and apparently determined to test the boundaries of what is truly defined as 'cooking' - Jennifer finally arrived in New York to clean me up for the final week of my internship.

Strangely parrelling visitors to South Bend - our first order of business was to plan a trip out of New York - and thus we were off to Boston within days of Jen's arrival to visit some friends - and for Jen to see this beautiful city for the first time. Therefore - after spending Friday with Jen's brother and his wife - and eating and drinking at places we would normally be barely able to afford to use their restrooms - we were on an early morning bus to Boston - and a visit to the city of Sam Malone and Cheers, and more American history than you can poke a stick at -

With perfect weather we set about exploring the city by foot - spending Saturday evening walking with no map and no plans - and enjoying the less chaotic atmosphere of Boston. Sunday morning we set about avoiding any form of American history - beginning the day with a beer at Cheers - then a trip to Harvard to '...see what smart people look like...'. Finally - we embarked on the famous Freedom Trail - 3 miles of history and a preview of the US citizenship exam. After tackling nearly an hour of historic sites - and attempting to walk inconspicuously behind a paid tour - we came across a pastry shop known for its killer canoles. It was worth the walk and the history - as these things were amazing - a chocolate mousse filling with chocolate chips and the ends dipped in dark chocolate - worth the trip to Boston alone! Then Sunday night we were back on the greyhound - ready for our final week in the Big Apple.

Pictured: Some would say a requirement for living in New York...&...the beautiful Boston Common.

Milk & Cookies

The first weekend in August had been on our calendars for a good time now - as it held a very special occasion - the marriage of our close friends Philip and Michelle. This was to be quite an event - and I had scheduled red-eye flights to LA in order to maximize my time there. It proved to be a beautiful ceremony - simple and elegant - with perfect weather and 200 people in attendance to wish these two all the best. Philip and Michelle have known each other since they were little tikes - and thus the slideshow that ended the night was particularly memorable as we were able to watch these two grow up together - and also just how long Philip had had a sweet spot for Michelle...she did play hard to get though - making Brother Dunn wait 25 long years before giving into his dashing good looks and biting wit. While observing the happiness of these two was great and all...the personal highlight for me was the non-traditional wedding cake that emerged later in the night. Apparently as a slightly uncoordinated teenager - Philip had managed to knock over a wedding cake - an event that left long-term mental scarring - and thus nearly twenty years later - at his own wedding - a traditional cake was outlawed. In its place...and thanks to a very dedicated mother...1000 chocolate chip cookies and a number of large jugs of milk adorned a table in the corner. The bride and groom dipped their cookies - savored the moment - before letting the flood gates open - as I set about consuming my own body weight in cookies. The remainder of the night was spent at a nearby hotel - where 70 or so close friends and family gathered to celebrate the occasion.

The remainder of my time was spent relaxing and enjoying a few days away from writing - with a relaxing trip to Laguna and days spent by the pool. Then it was back to NYC - and the chaos of Manhattan.

The fast track

This week began with the stark and blindingly insightful realization - that the years I was set to spend studying diligently towards a PhD were all a waste of time. This wonderful moment took place in a hospital elevator - with few witnesses and little realization of the critical importance of what was about to unfold. I was adorned in a typical white lab coat - ready for hospital rounds - and into the elevator steps an 80 year-old female patient - declaring as she looked around - what in the world she was going to do with '...all these cute doctors'. Normally of course - such a compliment from a woman (granted she was half-naked, obviously highly medicated and wouldn't be able to see her hand in front of her face) would send me into at least an hour of glancing longingly at my own reflection - this particular occasion however called for a different response - as I duly noted the use of the word 'Doctor'.

So here I was - spending years of my life - working harder than ever before (that might not be true..but seems to fit this line of reasoning) - towards a PhD - when all I needed to do was spend $22.95 on a lab coat and parade around a hospital. This was a wonderful moment...and now my days are spent strolling through the wards - attempting to squeeze every ounce of self-righteousness into my step - while desperately hoping that I don't actually get asked to do anything (thus exposing my critical lack of medical training) and that nobody realizes my pager is filled with candy and plays 'Raindrops are falling on my head'...

The rest of my week was far less exciting of course...as few things can live up to an elderly woman with blurred vision calling you cute...but I did make it to the opera in Central Park...and it turns out that the new Adam Sandler movie is being filmed a block from where I work - and thus my lunch-breaks have been spent watching the magic that is film production...in effect...one of the most tedious, boring and mind-blowingly slow processes I have ever observed...

Pictured: Adam Sandler on set -

With the flip a coin...we are on our way

Faced with a free weekend from work commitments I decided to make the most of it - and venture outside of the city. Thus, Friday afternoon I sat at a computer staring at a map of the surrounding area - and contemplating the various ways the weekend could unfold. Unable to make a decision I decided to leave it to chance, and thus Saturday morning I found myself at Penn Station with a quarter - decidedly unprepared for any sort of trip - and ready to find out where I was going. The coin landed and it was decided - armed with a plastic bottle of gin and a change of underwear - I was jumping a train to Point Pleasant and the Jersey shoreline two hours from Manhattan.

It was amazing to be leaving the chaos of New York City behind me for a night - once more gaining a degree of personal space. I had been lucky enough to get in touch with a friend of a friend - who invited me to stay with her and her family in one of the beautiful small towns along the shore. As you can see by the photo - it was perfect weather as my train pulled into the station in the midst of a thunderstorm. The night was thus spent relaxing at one of the harbor side bars in town - enjoying the distinct lack of traffic noise and gunshots...and then Sunday morning - refreshed and rejuvenated - I was back on the train to the city and ready for another week at work.

Peaceful Chaos

New York is many things...many wonderful things in fact...but peaceful it is not. While running in the park provides significant relief, and I have also been fortunate enough to find myself living in a relaxing apartment - where each night I venture to the roof with a drink to piece together my sanity - I decided this past week to venture out and investigate some of the other options in this controlled chaos of a city. It was this in mind that I set out to investigate many of the Buddhist temples in the city - attending talks and discussions, as well as their regular sittings. With hundreds of people in attendance - some were more interesting than others - however these hours of staring at my navel did create a modicum of peacefulness as I continue to move throughout the city.
Next on the list were examples of another way by which to gain peace in such a thriving metropolis...alcohol. Armed with some recommendations - and a well-lined stomach - I set out to see some of the more unique bars and pubs NY has to offer. Perhaps one of the more interesting was McSorley's - one of the oldest bars in Manhattan - and judging by the decor - obviously determined to prove such a title. Complete with saw-dust on the ground - and serving 'Ale' not 'Beer' (as each customer is politely informed) - this place was worth a visit - if only for the experience of buying a drink that left change from a $20 -
So another week comes to a close - and was finished off with a little taste of home. I managed to get along to the Summerstage Concert in Central Park - and sure enough - despite being half a world away from Australia - it turned out to be Cat Empire playing - a local band from Melbourne in a not-so-local place -

Pictured: My rooftop bar...a location largely responsible for maintaining my sanity since arriving - and the Public Library with its spectacular Reading Room.

New York City

So after a few weeks here – I am slowly learning to be a New Yorker. I am trying to walk faster with no regard to other people or moving vehicles, and I have nearly disposed of the habit to look people in the eye. This latter tendency is bound to get me into trouble, as those who do meet my eye often look like they want to hurt me…although I did have an accidental breakthrough the other day when sure enough…someone smiled at me…that’s right…I s**t you not…they smiled. I am also now an avid Central Park runner - logging close to 40miles/65kilometers a week – and participating in an activity with thousands of locals who claim it is the only thing that maintains their sanity.

My work here is going brilliantly. I have been attending oncology courses, a few lectures, and working on projects underway at Sloan Kettering and Mt Sinai. I have also been fortunate enough to meet with a lot of people in the field, and attend rounds at the hospital. All in all – it is proving to be a very intense, but invaluable experience.

So last week was my culture and self-improvement week. I attended the New York Philharmonic’s annual free performance in Central Park, a few meditation sittings in the city, and even happened to walk past as Bill Haley and the Comets performed their famous hits ‘Shake, Rattle and Roll’ and ‘Rock Around the Clock’ at a free concert. Next week therefore is a shift to the other extreme…with a long list of bars and blues clubs to check out.

Pictured: The NY Philharmonic performs in front of thousands in Central Park, and the view from one of the offices I am working in.

How do you celebrate the 4th of July in Australia?

While it is sadly true that I have been asked this question on more than one occasion – I would like to focus on some of the more positive and truly American aspects of this crazy celebration. Unsure when I would find myself in NYC on the 4^th of July again – my sister and I decided to make the most of the occasion – and departed early on this day of days – to travel to Coney Island for the world-renown and magical experience that is…Nathan’s Famous Fourth of July International Hot Dog Eating Contest.

It was hard to remain calm as such an epic and emotionally laden competition unfolded before our very eyes. 20,000 people surrounded us discussing each of the contestants form over the past year – and whether or not the much coveted title belt would return to American shores. It was like a fairytale - almost as if following a patriotic and wonderful script – the American challenger successfully defeated the world champion in a nail (hotdog?) biting finish – consuming a grand total of 66 dogs and buns in 12 minutes. Exhausted and close to tears – swearing our allegiance to a country capable of producing such wonderful sporting moments – we made our way back to Manhattan to regain our strength in time for the fireworks that night.

Despite an emotional afternoon at Coney Island – we pulled ourselves together and trekked out into the rain to see the much talked about fireworks over the East River. This turned out to be a very worthwhile trip – as thousands gathered to watch enough fireworks to launch a small rocket explode over the water. It was a pretty amazing site – even in the rain – and my best (first) 4^th of July ever!

Biting into the Big Apple

So I am still standing after my first week in the organized chaos that is New York City. After a year living in a small town in the Midwest I must admit – I had got used to a lot of personal space…and very little sensory excitation…it’s a quite life and I had adjusted to it. Now, being back in a big city – and one with the population of Australia crammed into a space that seems roughly equivalent to an airplane lavatory – it is time to readjust…relinquish my personal space…acknowledge that in New York you don’t look people in the eye and smile…and get down to business.

With my sister’s last week being spent here in NYC – we had a long list of sites to cover in between my working hours. We successfully covered the city – seeing the major sites, some museums, and tasting the best bagels and pizza New York had to offer.

I also settled into my apartment and began work as an intern at the hospital nearby. So far it has been an incredible experience – with a lot of luck coming my way as I get settled in for the next two months – with a good friend finding an apartment for me – and a scholarship covering travel, accommodation and meals during my time in the Big Apple.

I am living in a nice neighborhood about a block from Central Park on the west side – not far from Central Park West and a short walk through the park to 5^th Avenue. It is an incredible space to have in such a city – with plenty of room and even a private roof deck overlooking the city – just as icing on the cake. I am working a few blocks from the famous 5^th Avenue shopping strip – and it seems so far that this will be an invaluable experience as I begin to make my way through graduate school.

Road Trippin...

In the past few weeks we have been fortunate enough to welcome some friends and family from Australia to our home here in South Bend. We have however begun to notice a slight pattern starting to emerge...with all our visitors number one priority being a road trip OUT of South Bend. First it was our trip to Kentucky to sample the Bourbon trail...and this past weekend...with my sister's lifelong dream in tow...it was back in the Red Devil for the casual 12 hour drive to Georgia. Why Georgia I hear you say? Well if you had harbored an overwhelming obsession with the band REM since you were 9 years old...and REM happened to be from Athens, Georgia...then this location would be on the top of your list too.

So there we were...two hours and four drinks after Jen succesfully completed the GRE...car loaded and with a close friend and Georgia local in tow...on our way through two states to the birthplace of REM. We drove through the night, eating breakfast at dinner time, dinner at breakfast time, delirious and attempting to sleep in the most uncompromising positions. We arrived at 6am and gratefully greeted unconsciousness at Rae's grandmothers home on the outskirts of Atlanta.

The following day we were back in the car...still attempting to sleep...on our way to Athens and the Athfest music festival. Athens turned out to be a brilliant college town, with bars upon bars, beautiful streets and everything within walking distance...everything South Bend isn't. The live music was great and after surveying the historic sites...where Michael Stipe first experienced diarrhea...where REM played their first gig...where Michael Stipe bought his first pair of pants...we were back on the road to Atlanta.

Atlanta is a great city...home of the 1996 Olympics and also happens to possess the worlds largest aquarium. Well, since we were obviously too late for the games...we decided to check out the aquarium. This watery paradise contained a huge selection of fish, seals, penguins and whales...and if you were willing to beat down 30 or 40 three year olds then you could touch some of them as well. Unfortunately, my sister is none too fond of crowds...even more unfortunately we arrived on a Saturday and Atlanta happens to be home to approximately 5 million people...therefore much of Kat's time was spent attempting to glare people to death.

After a short rest it was off to the airport to drop Jen...who was deserting us and flying to LA for the summer. After 10 months together we realized that the long-distance was the only thing that kept the relationship interesting...and thus decided it was time for a break...and will therefore spend the summer on opposite sides of the country. We are both looking forward to getting back to phone calls and emails...as well as the ever present ridicule of close friends and family.

As for us...it was back on the road, tripping through picturesque Tennesse and 'too big for its own good' Kentucky to our humble home in Indiana. With Kat's dream complete...and my state's visited count up to 34...it was time to get back to work for a few days before we head to New York and my summer internship.

Pictured: Athfest...who wants to pat the monkey wearing Depends...and our friends at the aquarium.

Take me out to the ballgame…

After exploring all that South Bend has to offer on Tuesday morning – it was time to pack up and head to the Windy City…determined to sample all this wonderful American city has to offer. The first night we picked up my sister from the airport…taking the Aussie count to a staggering total of four…checked into our room…and began to prepare for the massive day ahead. With one full day and no regard given to our digestive system…we set out for a walking and eating tour of Chicago. We strolled through downtown, took in Navy Pier, the Magnificent Mile and the Lake…before tracking down one of the best soup restaurants in the city for lunch. Then it was time to reload over a few drinks and head to Wrigleyville for true Chicago style pizza and a Cub’s game at Wrigley Field. Then, determined to finish the day a pound or two heavier…we made it to a blues bar for a few drinks, live music, and to watch Dougie attempt to commit suicide by Buffalo Wings…

The following morning it was time for sad goodbyes…this time over some famous triple-decker sandwiches the size of our heads. It was an amazing week with Rach and Dougie, and it was very sad to see them go. Now it is back to South Bend with my sister…a week before the GRE for Jen…and then it is off to Atlanta and our next big adventure.

Three Australians, an American and a Fijian…

Rach and Dougie’s trip to the Midwest had the all the makings of a bad joke or a Griswald Vacation movie…a road trip to Kentucky, the Bourbon Trail, too little sleep, too much alcohol, triple-level beer-pong, AFL football and I am sad to say…KFC.

This particular adventure began with strong winds and a four-hour delay flying into Chicago. Jen and I figured this was the Dunstan’s way of testing how much we loved them…and thus we bunkered down in the airport carpark, slept, ate all the food we had brought for Rach and Dougie, and partook in a marathon game of Thumbwars…it still amazes me that after four years together our relationship is still as exciting and fast-paced as ever.

We finally had our exhausted guests in the car and were heading back to our apartment in South Bend. Even though we had seen our friends just a few weeks prior, it was great to welcome them into our home, and begin to show them our part of the country.

So the adventure began with a trip out in South Bend on Friday night…just for a few drinks before our departure the next day south to Kentucky. On the way to the bar it was decided that a 6am departure was by far the most logical course of action…the sort of plan that can only seem reasonable on the way to the bar…and thus sure enough after a few hours sleep we were packed and heading south towards one of Rach and Dougie’s dreams. It turned out to be a very cool experience – with free taste testing, bourbon education, and incredible scenery. By the end of the day, and with many of their life’s goals marked off the list, Rach and Dougie, with bourbon and a KFC bucket in hand, provided us and passers by with a photographic tribute to the use of sterilization.

The romance of immigration law.

So ladies and gentleman...in light of the many horror stories we have heard from couples who have sought wedded bliss across international borders (and the many not-so-flattering comments directed towards those wonderful people working in the immigration department), we took our first step/lunge/terrifying leap in this magical and romantic process and visited an immigration lawyer. It was even more incredible than we both could have imagined; a smug lawyer sitting across from us talking about his 'credentials' and the need for us to consummate our relationship in the same breath...the strange glance he directed towards me as he mentioned the many complications a criminal past can cause...and the ever-present desire to tell a distasteful lawyer joke. Strangely enough, once you are willing to hand over a good portion of cash to this slick gentleman...the whole process does not seem as overwhelming or as complicated as we once envisioned. So no dates yet...but my mind is ticking over...and Jen is looking increasingly nervous every time I bend down to tie my shoe.

Pictured: How to make yourself ill in Mexico City...cut-price cakes. Jen thinks I even somehow look fatter in the second photo.