The Gabtrotter

It’s funny how I’ll be turning 22 and because of my location,  my friends and family will recognize it two different times. For example, my friends in the US, on Wednesday, will be thinking about how in Australia it is my birthday because it is Thursday… and on Thursday, in the US, my friends will then be living my birthday over there.

It’s not so much about it being my birthday, as much as it is about the time: how time works. There is a line, in the middle of the ocean, that just makes time change direction, it makes time work systematically. Although hours are controlled and the days are measured: time is inconsistent, it’s unmemorable. I don’t remember my 17^th birthday, and I don’t remember my 15^th birthday… but I remember my 21^st and my 16^th. As you get older you start to remember things worth remembering, but the systematic method of time is just is in the background, counting the days as we get older… but to us, yes, there are these lists of numerical days, but the days don’t count as much as the accumulation of the moments between one date to the other.

I will forever remember my 22^nd birthday as being in Australia. Someone will ask me, what’d you do for your birthday last year, or the year before, or ten years ago? And I’ll causally respond, oh that year I was in Australia. When I’m turning 40 I will remember what year I was in Australia because of this birthday, because as you get older (I hear) the years start to blend together… and the dates blend together… and it’s just those extraordinary moments that help mark the years as they fly by.

11:30 AM (Sydney Time)

I’m on the flight to Brisbane.

Going through customs was fun and they were trying to figure out what my iMac was. I told them it was a computer, and then the guy picked it up and said, “Oh it’s a screen!” I didn’t argue, he was partially correct.

Getting off the plane and walking into the airport, was pretty exciting. Mainly because it had been a long time since I had been through customs and going through it makes you realize that you’re entering a foreign country, even if they speak the same language.

On the bus to the next gate, I was alarmed that the driver was driving on the wrong side of the road, and then it dawned on me… the driver is driving on the wrong side of the road, but then I remembered that Australians drive on the opposite sides here, and was happily amused.

At first glance, Australia does not have as many palm trees as I would have imagined, at least I haven’t seen any in Sydney. Instead, the trees look like trees I see in Ohio, or New England. But we’ll see what the trees in Brisbane look like. Some of the girls in my group were loud and obnoxious on the bus; I could see the Australians looking at us: No wonder America has the reputation that it has. If we were in the US, I wouldn’t mind that kind of behavior; it only bothers me when it is fulfilling a stereotype, in another country.

It feels like I’m in a warm climate, everyone has that cheery summer tone and that golden sunny glow. I can’t wait to get my sun on.

(4:17PM Eastern)

The excitement has really started to kick in. I just look around the airport and am overwhelmed with anticipation. LAX here I come.

Funny thing overheard at Boston Logan International Airport:

“What is a flee market like, is it indoors or outdoors?”

It’s 12 and I leave at 5. I’ve said most of my goodbyes, and most of what I have is packed. I still worry that I’m forgetting something. I’m excited, but it hasn’t really sunk in yet. I still have to weigh the bags before I go, to make sure they are less than 50 pounds… I’m going to do that now.

I should be in LAX 11PM Eastern Time. Until then.