Post #10: “I’m Dreaming of a Sweltering Christmas”

Good morning, world!  Hopefully you’ve all recovered from last week’s news, now it’s time to get back to your regularly scheduled program.  I came to a realization this week that I imagine most of my American readers haven’t considered yet.  Bing Crosby and I decided to put together a little something to help you realize it too. Warning: not safe for work or mom.

(Thanks for the help, Jason.  You’re a master at your craft )

That’s right, dear readers.  Australians aren’t ALL heathens, they still celebrate Christ’s birth the way God intended it: a holiday tradition of buying tons of shit and secretly wanting to murder the person in line in front of you.  The only difference, however, is that when Aussies do it, it’s FUCKING HOT!

It was a balmy 96 degrees the other day, and it’s still spring.  Toowoomba is also one of the cooler places around.  Good ole December 25th is summertime, and I’m expecting a scorcher.  Instead of Christmas carolers all wrapped up and cheery, we’ll be getting pissed off bogans swimming around in their own pools of sweat.  That’s right, there will be crazy Australian rednecks trying to find their own ways to stay cool:

Now, as a quick side note, I had the great idea to try and find that picture and similar ones by typing “hot sweaty redneck” into Google.  That might have been the biggest mistake of my life.  Go ahead, sate your curiosity.  I’ll wait.

What really gets me is the fact that Australia is not the only country in the southern hemisphere.  Literally half of the entire globe has Christmas in the summertime, but the thought had never even crossed my mind before I came here.  Imagine what this joyous time every year would be like if we had grown up in the southern hemisphere?

There would be no snow boots during Christmas time, there would be sandals. That song about chestnuts roasting on an open fire?  Fuck open fires.  I will have no time for open fires; I will be too busy frantically searching the state for ice that hasn’t already turned into steam.  Snowball fights wouldn’t exist; instead we’d be throwing balloons filled with our own sweat at each other.  Gross, I know.

This completely changes my thought of Santa.  You picture this big jolly fat guy, using his own natural blubber to keep warm and a thick red and white coat to keep from freezing his ass off at speeds of a billion miles per hour, zipping around the globe.  Hell no, this is what Mr. Yuletide looks like in an Australian Christmas:

He even shaved his moustache.  Still has that pimpin’ hat, though.

That’s it for this week, short and sweet.  Feel free to add that music clip to your iPod and rock out to it while you’re at the gym.  Bing and I don’t mind.  As always, your feedback matters to me!  Honestly.  Feel free to help me advertise on facebook if you like the blog.  Be safe.

Austin

Post #9: Decisions, Decisions…

Everyone gather ’round, sit down in a circle, cross-legged, and lend me your eyes.  This week’s blog post will be less about entertainment and more about information, but I promise to make up for it next week with a good bout or two of rollicking laughter!

I’ve had a lot of conversations lately from personal Austin Trager Fans (Dear God, PLEASE let there be an Austin Trager Fan Club somewhere. With T-shirts.) that went something like this:

Fan: “Austin, when are you coming back?!?!?! I miss you and want to get married as soon as possible!”

Me: “But I don’t want to come back!!!!! I miss you, though, and you should come visit me!”

Fan: /cry

All undue arrogance aside, it means a lot to me that you guys (and girls, of course, of course) miss me and enjoy reading my blog posts, but I have to tell you all…..

….I’m staying in Australia.

That’s right, I applied to the University of Southern Queensland as a non-exchange student and was accepted! I’ve decided to switch my major from Accounting to Journalism (let’s face it, writing comedy is so much more fun than book keeping) and pursue a Bachelor’s of Communication here.  Now, I know some of you are disappointed (probably the Australians ) but dry your eyes.  I’ll be back to visit before too long, I promise.  I’ll probably stay here for the summer, but I’ll probably be back visiting in the States during the mid-semester break in winter time. (Note: Australian summer and winter, just to be clear)

Side note: it’s starting to get mother fucking hot here.  It’s only spring, summer hasn’t even started, but yesterday was 97 degrees Fahrenheit.  It’s only going to get hotter, god dammit.  I’d cry if I didn’t think my tears would instantly evaporate and steam up my computer screen.

I’ll let you in on a little detail, though, dear reader.  There has been one complication.  You see, because I was only supposed to be here for a semester, my visa runs out on December 1, 2009.  “Not a problem,” I think, “I’ll just get accepted to school and renew my visa.  It only took two days to get accepted last time.”  So I got my Confirmation of Enrollment paperwork and went to apply online to renew my visa.  Plenty of time to spare.

However, apparently you can only apply for and receive a study visa that begins a maximum of three months before the beginning of your class.  According to the paperwork on my Confirmation of Enrollment, my courses begin on March 1, 2010.  Some of you are already counting back, and are beginning to see my predicament.  Three months before classes start would fall on December 1, 2009.

I can only apply for a new visa on the day that my current visa expires.  Assuming that it still only takes two days, I’ll be an illegal immigrant for two days, running from the 5-0!

Whoa. Too far, Austin, too far.

In all reality, I should be able to fix the predicament with a call to the Consulate.  There’s no way I’d get rejected with acceptance to an Australian University, and I doubt they’d make me leave the country with a visa renewal application pending.  Fingers crossed.

Well that’s it, dear readers.  Sorry for the lack of exorbitant sarcasm and hyperbole in this post, I’ll be sure to lay it on thick next Wednesday.  Remember, put this blog in your favorites and check it every week or so, since Facebook’s shit new layout is slaughtering my advertising.   As always, your feedback matters a lot to me (probably now more than ever since I’m making writing my career) and I’d appreciate a link in a status message or something similar.  I’m off to work out on my new Wii Fit (a video game that helps me maintain my girlish figure? Yes, please.)  Be safe!

Austin

Post #8: I’m a PC

There is a place so evil, so white, so clean, and so vile that words cannot express the wracking pangs of horror you feel when you enter.  That’s right, I’m talking about my place of work: Next Byte. It’s an Apple Retailer.

Now, I’ve mentioned this lair of filth once or twice before in my blogs, and I’ve had a few friends come up to me in this grand place called the internet and ask me for more details.  Naturally I decided it’d be better just to tell you all about it at once in one of my blog posts.  This is that post. Buckle up.

First off, let me make it clear that I am a PC, through and through.  Don’t get me wrong, snow leopard is a pretty operating system, but I’m a gamer. I need the raw power that Windows has to offer me.  Plus, I don’t do white.  Unless we’re talking about my skin tone, in which case I’m a canadian winter. Ian, I don’t know how you do it. That shit is cold.

But, I digress.  So, now that we’ve made it PERFECTLY CLEAR that I’m a PC, we can talk about my job. I sell Macintosh computers.  See the irony? “But how, Austin,” you ask, “how you do you sell filthy Macs if you hate them with every fiber of your being?” Well, kids, there’s a secret. A trick, if you will.

I’m a complete and total liar.

You see, dear readers, when somebody comes in to the store and glances at a computer, I suddenly don this massive shit eating grin that looks like the gleaming white bastions of suffering all around me.  I stroll over to the clueless gentleman and lay on the lies with a fucking trowel.

Me: “Good afternoon, sir, how can I help you?”

Him: “Oh, nothing, I’m just browsing.”

(He started the lie party, not me. You don’t just come into the store to just look around. I know you want to buy something.  This isn’t a library.)

Me: “I noticed you’re checking out our lovely (cringe) iMacs.  Are you a Mac user currently?

Him: “No, not yet, I’m still using a PC. I’m planning on buying a Mac, though.”

(You treacherous swine.)

Me: “Well, don’t tell my boss, (looking around) but until recently I was a PC user. I know your pain.”

Him: “Oh yeah? Why did you make the switch.”

Me: (Quoting from the training) “I just love the seamless integration that makes Mac computers ‘just work!’ “

(It hurts. It hurts every single time.)

Him: “Ah, okay. Tell me more about this one then.”

This continues on for about 20 minutes and (hopefully) ends with him buying a two thousand dollar machine and a ton of other stuff that I conned him into buying.  Yeah, I know, I’m a bastard.  But, they deserve it.  They’re Macs.

Now, I have to say, I have a slight advantage.  You see, I have an American accent.  Now, before my Aussie readers go up in arms against me, I’m not claiming that it’s some kind of amazing sexual weapon that I can brandish and get my way while making mental slaves of bogans and kangaroos alike.  I AM saying, however, that just having a different accent often makes people think you’re more interesting than you really are, which is certainly the case in this fabulous country.  I think I speak for all of my American friends when I say that if you and your Aussie accent were to come to our country, you’d be met with open arms and legs.

Now, back to the subject at hand.  My buddy Jake (hot American fella) used to work at the same store, before he took his leave to go back to the States.  We were helping out this lovely female customer with a decision of whether or not she should buy one of the new iPod Nanos. ($199 for an 8gb model, $249 for a 16gb model. Come on down.) Of course, Jake and I went to great length about the video camera, the larger screen to watch videos on, and the exceptional battery life, but she had one line that let us know that we had done our jobs flawlessly:

“I would buy one of these just to hear you keep talking to me with your accent!”

To which, of course, I quickly replied:

“Well, if you buy one of these now for $249, my friend Jake here will read you the back of the box while he takes your credit card.”

She bought it. High five. We couldn’t sell her the extended warranty on it, though.  What do you think we are, Irish?

That’s it for this week, see you again next Wednesday! As always, leave feedback and help me advertise by giving me shameless plugs in your facebook statuses .  By the way, while we’re on that subject, how much complete and utter shit is this new Facebook layout? News feed? Live feed?  You have to choose between “Tell me everyone’s statuses and photo updates, but only if they’re over seven weeks old” and “Please let me know when friends of mine who are barely acquaintances pick their nose.”  The shit is ridiculous, Facebook, change it back.

Be Safe!

Austin

Post #7: Driving

The time has come for me to stop relying on other people to drive my sorry car-less ass around Toowoomba.  That’s right, ladies and gentlemen, I’m learning how to drive. On Australian streets!

You may remember from one of my previous posts….and if you don’t, I’ll certainly remind you now at no extra cost….

…THEY DRIVE ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE ROAD HERE.

Yes, my dear friends, it is every bit as frightening as you would imagine it is.  Nightmarish right hand turns that have to yield to oncoming traffic, horrific parallel parking on the left side of the road, and no awesome “right turn on red” laws that make you feel like you’re a rebel.  There is, however, one thing that makes your blood curdle.

ROUNDABOUTS.

Even the sight of that hellish monstrosity makes me want to run screaming into the nearest darkest closet.  Now, we might have these in the United States, I’m not sure.  But we sure as fuck don’t have them in Virginia and my driver’s license written test didn’t have a section marked “Concrete Whirlpools of Death and Destruction.”  I’m not kidding.  It looks like it from that overhead view, but when you’re in the roundabout it actually FEELS like some kind of pinwheel designed and constructed in the bowels of hell itself.

There are all kinds of different rules involving roundabouts:  “Always yield to the car on your right.” “Put on your blinker when entering the roundabout and put on your other blinker when you’re exiting the roundabout.” “Write out your will before entering the roundabout, so as not to cause confusion when you fail to escape the Windmill of Despair set before you.”

Let me take this moment to set out a nice aside note: my driver’s license is valid in this country.  As an international student from the USA, as long as you remain in the country on a student visa, your driver’s license is 100% legal and grants you permission to drive.  Now, some of you are saying to yourselves, “Oh, that’s convenient! You can start driving right away without having to go through all this paperwork! Nifty.”

NAY.

We drive on the other side of the fucking road! We have different turns, different speed limits in different units of measurement, and 4-way stop signs instead of roundabouts!  What the FUCK makes the Australian nation think we’re ready to get behind the wheel? It’s frightening!

Me: “Hello good sir.”

Official: “G’day.”

Me: “I’d like to inquire about getting a license to drive in this great nation of yours.”

Official: (picking up the accent) “You’re an American exchange student? Do you have a United States license?”

Me: “Certainly am, and I certainly do.”

Official: “You’ll be ‘right.”

Me: “…….oh. Okay.”

Let’s think about this for a second.  If they’re letting ME drive in this country.  Without even so much as testing me, or making me drive with someone else, or giving me certain times of day that I can drive, who the fuck else are they letting on these roads?

I was right to be afraid. First, before I get into that, a little background on the situation.  I was not about to just go out and purchase a car and jump onto the roads, saying “right is now left, which means left is right and right is wrong. Okay, let’s do this.”  Hell no. I have this thing about dying. I don’t want to do it.  But that’s okay, I’ve got help.  Fiona Myatt, a friend of mine here, has graciously decided that life is not worth living anymore and she has been sitting in the car with me while I meander on the concrete path to pain and suffering.  We’re using her car (a daewoo), her directions, my quivering hands, and our collective courage.  Not only do I have to learn how to drive, but I have to learn how to drive on a manual.  Now, that’s not a big deal.  I drive a stick in the States, I’m damn good at it…

(Not Fi’s car)

…with my right hand.  The stick shift stays in the middle, but the steering wheel is on the other side of the car.  This means that now I have to learn how to operate a manual transmission with my left hand, in addition to dodging kangaroos on the freeway.

By the way, her car has purple seat covers.  Oh yeah, I’m a manly man.

Now that we have the situation all nice and set in your mind, let me tell you about Toowoomba drivers.  As we start driving the car, Fiona turns to me and says, “Funny thing, Toowoomba is considered to have the worst drivers in all of Queensland, so you’ll be just fine.”

Oh good. Thanks, Fi.

Not only do I have to worry about not smashing into cars who are following the CORRECT rules of the road, but I have to worry about the worst drivers in the state that AREN’T following the rules of the road.  It turns out, Fiona was completely and totally right.  My God, these drivers are AWFUL.  If I didn’t know any better, I would have to say that they all left their mobile homes that morning with the goal of killing ME PERSONALLY.  As if roundabouts weren’t enough, I’ve got late-breaking blithering bogan bastards at my 6 and 12 o’clocks the whole way to the mall.

All in all, it’s a frightening experience that will make your toenails curl.  At least the pedals are all still in the right order.

Well, that’s it for this week, readers.  Hope you enjoyed it! I’ve decided that I like keeping a blog, I’m going to keep doing it, but now I’m going to be a bit nicer to you guys.  From now on, there will be a new blog post every Wednesday.  That’s right, no longer do you have to stare at your computer screen for weeks on end with bated breath, wondering when I’m going to post a link up on facebook.  Every Wednesday, around 11:00 AM to 12:00 PM Australian time, which is 8:00 PM to 9:00 PM  on Tuesday Night, Eastern Standard Time.

As always, leave feedback, and please feel free to tell your friends.  I’ve decided that I want to write for a living, so let’s hurry up and get me famous   Be safe!

Austin