Going Right

Its been about five days since I've arrived in Perth, so I guess this is due for an update. My first full day here I was completely useless and passed out from jetlag for about 18 hours. John and Andrew, who are also from my college and doing this semester with me (They'll be referred to a lot in this blog) had been here for three days when I arrived and just drank the jetlag out of them. Now I am all about responsibility, so I decided not to go down that route. Classes didn't start until the week after I got here, I just had to be around for one two hour orientation meeting on Monday, and for the rest of this week I have been free from school commitments. The bars and beaches have been frequented a lot since I've been here. Let me tell you something about Australians: they love to get into fights with each other. I think I've seen more fights here than I have my entire life, and I once saw the opening frenzy at Kay-Bee's Toys after they got a new shipment of Power Rangers. 

About 15 my friends and I went to a casino and nightclub last night. After giving people three hours of my white man's overbite dance, I was ready to hit the floors and begin the hunt for the blackjack tables. As I sit down at a $10 table I am horrified to look to the dealer's left and find the bane of gambling existence: The automatic shuffler. Now I have only been to casinos 4 times before this, all while I was in France this summer. Twice I went to a place with no automatic shufflers, doubling my money both times, and twice I went to a place with the gambler's worst nightmare, and was lucky to leave with my socks (they're really comfortable). I took the same amount of money every time I go, which isn't much, so in the end I broke even, but I learned to avoid the gambler's Roger Klotz (a reference to Doug, for those of you still wondering) when I can. I knew I should have gotten up and walked away, but I had a vodka-redbull in me and felt like I could conquer anything. That didn't happen. I wasn't entirely cleaned but I knew there was no way I'd win back what I lost, so I left while I still had some chips left. 

The other day I tried surfing for the first time. I've always been a little leery towards surfing ever since The Brady Bunch went to Hawaii and Greg almost killed himself during the surfing competition. However, unlike Greg, I wasn't wearing an evil tiki statue, so the chances of that happening to me were slim. While I didn't get to the point of standing up while riding a wave, I did look very cool sitting in the water on my surfboard, and really, that's all that matters.

I live with 4 other people in my flat, two other guys and two girls. One of the girls seems intent on segregating our two toilets, trying to claim the one on the right for the vaginas. Not going to happen. I've been using the right toilet since I've arrived, and I'm not about to part with it now. While there is no actual difference between the toilet closets, I feel a bond with the right, as it has always welcomed me the morning after a night of beer and and Dominos. I can't just abandon our entire history, and to expect me to do so is ludicrous. I don't understand their problem. Its been almost three days since I've stopped peeing on the seat and duct taping it into the "up" position. The battle has begun, girl flatmate, and I'm digging in my heels. There will be no actual confrontation on my part, just a guerrilla war that I'm in for the long haul.

Until next time

Paul