A Day in Underland

I'm so proud of myself; I've just successfully created my own blog for my friends and family in the U.S.A. to follow.  I really don't know much about computers, but there's really not anything that e-How can't help you with.  Today will be my first post for all those people who may or may not be interested in my daily life or keeping up with what I do.  I can already tell you that there will be days I don't post anything, and even worse, there will be days when you'll wish I hadn't posted anything.

I want this blog to be a sort of diary for me.  You don't have to read this; in fact, I can hear my brother, Aaron saying, "Who really cares what she did in her garden today!"; that's all perfectly fine.  If you don't like what you read then go get lost in your busy and terribly important life.

I've recently watched the new "Alice in Wonderland" by Tim Burton, and for some strange reason I feel that I can relate to poor Alice.  She has suddenly been thrown into a world that is upside-down, topsy-turvy, scary, maddening, and yet somehow fascinating.  Since my recent move here to Australia, I've discovered so many differences you wouldn't normally think about, but that make a huge difference.  By the way, the toilet doesn't flush in the opposite direction in the Southern Hemisphere; that's just an urban myth.  I'm not saying I'm "gone bonkers" like the Mad Hatter, but it's those times when the girl at the cash register throws your change back at you because it took you forever to count out a foreign currency that you just want to go stand in a corner and whimper, or report her to her manager for being ugly.  

It's those times when bus drivers wag their finger at you because you didn't indicate which direction you wanted to go in the round-about.  Trust me, there is a whole new thought process behind driving on the left side of the road.  It's when you go to hang your clothes on the line just like everyone else in the neighborhood, but you think to yourself, "there's no way I'm hanging my underwear up there."  It's when you go to buy seasoning for your roast beef and the woman standing next to you in the aisle needs a translator because you just asked her what size roast to use for eight people.  My personal favourite is drinking hot tea when it's a scathing 110*F outside.  Don't let me forget the part where you have to convert 43*C to Farenheit.  

I could go on, but you get the idea.  This page will probably turn into the place where I vent some frustration so as not to take it out on my unsuspecting husband.  If you've gotten this far in the reading then I commend you.  I shall now adjourn, and as the Mad Hatter himself would say, "Welcome to Underland."