<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5195273777967037316</id><updated>2012-02-16T09:11:11.301-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Stories By Sa from Down Under!</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Sa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>50</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5195273777967037316.post-8847980112990966439</id><published>2007-09-11T07:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-11T07:52:29.237-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Day I Walked Out of Wollongong (Another True Sa Adventure)</title><content type='html'>I should have posted this a long long time ago but it's a great tale no matter when I tell it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One fateful day in August I awoke with the brilliant idea to scale the monstrous Mount Keira which towers over the city of Wollongong.  Upon realising I am out of deodorant I run to the convenience store to purchase a cheap bit of pit-stick (just to get me through the day).  Smelling as fresh as can be given the cheapness of my new deodorant, I set off for my trek to the foot of the mountain.  I had some trouble finding the "entry" gate but after asking a few sketchy labourer men I was directed to a muddy puddle surrounding a barf green twirly gate which was the starting point of my journey.  So after sliding and sloshing around in the mud I began my ascent. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All was going well.  I was climbing stairs like it was my job - pushing my body to her limits.  The crisp air filled my lungs and the sun beat down on my back.  I was one with nature.  The birds chirped and I chirped merrily back. . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I reach the end of the stairs and emerge from the forest onto a gravel road, which is running perpendicular to my ascent.  Do I go left?  Do I go right?  Well I opted to go right first but that seemed to be going down the mountain - not the way I wanted to go.  So I turn around and head off to the left.  Unfortunately I was no longer one with nature on this path that was well travelle by motor vehicles.  So I opted to get back to nature as soon as possible and the opportunity presented itself very quickly. A "hiker's" trail crossed with the road at one point and I decided to get back into the forest.  Looking back that was probably NOT a hiker's trail but rather a wallaby trail or a cruel joke someone decided to play on innocent Canadians.  I get back to being one with nature.  The birds chirp and I chirp merrily back. . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the "trail" I am on seems to become less and less beaten and soon becomes nothing.  But I find myself at the foot of a trickling stream down the edge of a steep rock formation.  So me being the idiot I am think that this is the "Advanced" hiker trail which requires someone to scale the rocks (much simliar to the fashion I scaled the cliff in my last adventure).  So there I am crawling up this rock formation worn away by the pure clear water of the mountain.  Also I think that this okay because at the beginning of my adventure by the gate there is a sign that stated "do not drink the stream water" thus I think it is totally okay that I found the stream.  The birds chirp and I chirp merrily back. . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways so I start to look down and realise I have climbed quite far up.  And it is very difficult to climb down due to the slippery steep jagged rock that I have climbed.  I figure there surely must be a path at the top of this beautiful stream.  I am still in touch with nature.  One with nature.  The birds chirp and I chirp merrily back. . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Make it to the top of the stream and apparently there were landslides on Mount Keira the week before.  Oh.  Guess what.  I found the site of the landslides.  HUGE boulders are now blocking me from going any further toward that blue sky!  So i try to move around the boulders.  No luck.  The only option I have is to trek along the top of the rather vertical forest.  The birds chip and I ignore. . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I move the loose soil falls out from behind me.  I continue for some time walking along the top of the mountain.  I am a mere 5 meters below the very top.  I can see the radio tower.  The lookout must be near!  It has to be near!  Alas, it is nowhere near me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Assessing my situation I conclude I must begin my descent.  I must start to climb down the mountain.  Except I am in the midst of the near vertical forest.  So I eat my Boost bar and begin my adventure down.  The birds chip and I am shaking. . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I soon realise even with my incredible coordination it is nearly impossible to climb down the mountain. So I opted for the more graceful choice to slide down on my bum.  I also grab a fallen branch to assist me in determining the looseness of the soil.  I slide down the forest floor for a good 20 mintues.  The only thought in my head is that "soon it will end - you can't keep going down forever".  The birds chirp and I hardly notice. . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then . . .from far below . . .I hear voices!  HUMAN VOICES!  They probably don't realise they gave hope to a girl who had lost all hope in the forest.  In fact, they probably feared for their lives as I was merely a creature rustling about in the trees above. . .creepily. . .  no matter: I was saved! They were hiking on a trail.  Made for humans.  by humans!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I made my way to the path.  And began to follow this glorious path winding along the mountain.  Initially it seemed to be going down.  The birds chirped and I chirped merrily back at the top of my lungs. .  .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately it is never that easy when I am involved.  The path began to include stairs going back up.  NO!!  Im done with this mountain! The path continues.  There is no turning back.  The path winds.  I pass over some rocks.  I climb up 10 stairs.  I climb down 20 stairs.  I walk along a single person trail.  I climb up 30 stairs.  I continue along the path.  I reach a muggy bog where two rotted pieces of wood are placed for one to cross the bog without getting dirty.  At this point I assess my state.  I am covered in dirt from sliding down the mountain.  I smell because of the cheap deodorant.  I am drenched in sweat.  The birds chirp and I glare up at the trees. .  .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I soon reach a sign that states I am following the Mount Keira Loop Trail.  Which is not leading down the mountain but rather AROUND the mountain.  I turn off the path onto another path that begins to lead downwards.  Finally I am getting off this godforsaken mountain.  The birds chirp and I swear loudly back. . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finally emerge into a large field and walk around to read the wooden engraved sign.  It states in childish writing "Welcome to Mount Ousley"  Yes friends.  I walked to ANOTHER mountain. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I decide to start my walk back to Wollongong.  Unfortunately I seem to have emerged into the most ritzy neighbourhood.  Mansions tower over me.  Mercedes and BMW's line the driveways.  And there I am.  Feral.  Fresh from nature.  Strolling through the neighbourhood.  I come across an elderly gentleman and his daughter (around my age).  I ask with all the Salima charm I could muster: "Sir, where am I?" he examines me and replies "Where would you like to be?"  My answer of "Wollongong" evoked a kindly chuckle and he responded "You're not in Wollongong anymore".   Oh Fuck. "Well sir, which direction should I be going to get back to Wollongong?"  He once again looks at me, pity etched in his face.  He smiles and gestures to his brand new BMW, fully loaded and says "I'm heading that way anyway.  I can give you a lift if you would like".  "That would be marvelous.  Thank you so much".  And thus Salima gets a ride back to Wollongong (which took about 7 minutes driving along the freeway) in a BMW.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5195273777967037316-8847980112990966439?l=storiesbysa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/feeds/8847980112990966439/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5195273777967037316&amp;postID=8847980112990966439' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/8847980112990966439'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/8847980112990966439'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/2007/09/day-i-walked-out-of-wollongong-another.html' title='The Day I Walked Out of Wollongong (Another True Sa Adventure)'/><author><name>Sa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5195273777967037316.post-4715513833054819246</id><published>2007-08-11T00:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-11T00:30:10.738-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Adventures in N the Zed (New Zealand!)</title><content type='html'>Instead of a Journal we kept a list of problems. . . .&lt;br /&gt;Problem 1 – Power outage in KV 18/06 – Court’s clothes didn’t dry – we blow dryed clothes 5 min before departure&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 2 –Predicted flooding and wind gusts up to 120 km/hr – uhh. . we’re going flying?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 3 – Pacific Blue staff did not show up until 1.5 hrs before departure&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 4 – Needed Visas AND proof we were leaving – yup neither of us had this stuff&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 5 – Court sets off to find Emirates to print return ticket – drags us to gate D from H only to discover Emirates is at J.  Then we are sent upstairs to a closed office L&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wailing child’s mom points out “monster” security dog behind.  “look puppy” and the child  jumped 10 feet and screamed – pure terror&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 6 – Salima lost Green customs sheet (x3)&lt;br /&gt;-         Cant take CDs out of country because of porn smuggling&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 7 – Picking up luggage @ airport – Dorothy the sniffer dog identifies Courts bag as a threat to Quarantine Standards.  Courts green sheet is marked&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 8 – Neither of us could open hostel room door in CC – dude came after Court went out to ring doorbell à we left key in door&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 9 – Our roommates stroll in at 330am – Flashlights on &amp; flick room lights multiple times. . .woo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 10 – Bakery in CC – bran muffin burned as went down esophageus&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 11 – 24 hour shops not open @ all hours &amp; 1 min = 30 seconds in NZ&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 12 – Public bus from CC-QT involved guide &amp; Constant bombardment of info about sheep and there is to be no talking while the presentation is in progress (2 girls yelled at)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 13 – There are sheep fucking everywhere&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 14 – CC Court’s blanket smelled like rotten ass with a hint of BO.  Too cold for her to sleep without &amp; dude at reception hated us&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 15 – Newman’s coach service left bald guy behind @ bumblefuck church no where near civilisation&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 16 – If on bus for any amount of time over 15 min one of us would be FAST asleep&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 17 – Stopped @ random fruit market filled with screaming Asians to buy frozen apples, bananas, &amp; peanuts à Icy peanuts = new experience for both of us&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 18 – Court booked canyon swing without knowing what it was – “Jeff” at front desk convinces her to do it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 19 – Heater in our room is broken – nipples so cold they hurt&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 20 – Ice cold shower until turns boiling hot at random&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 21 – Cannot find Winnies (pizza place) 2 guys have to point us even though it is right in front&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 22 – Cold drafts on outdoor patio directed to our bottom halves &amp; not-hot-hot-chocolate but amazing pizza&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Found amazing fudge store&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 23 – Court credit card locked, cant call because of time difference &amp; Salima’s maxed out until 20/06.  Problem&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 24 – Driver Wayne&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 25 – Toilets everywhere are balls cold&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 26 – Fog everywhere&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 27 – Asians @ toilets rewrote rules of etiquette as you are to stake out a stall and wait until YOUR stall has been evacuated&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 28 – How did we fit so many Asians on 1 boat?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 29 – Announcements on Milford ferry rarely made in English&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Learned signature asian picture pose – no smiling &amp; peace sign&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 30 – Screaming crazy Asian lady not letting anyone stand in her vicinity so she could take a picture&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 31 – Road to QT closed because of 4” of snow.  Wayne, crazy driver, has to put on chains &amp; takes off ahead of everyone.  Racing on icy, windy, winding roads in snow storm à safe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 32 – Wayne states bad driver ahead is either Asian or Indian (Sa right behind him).  Court looks uncomfortably out the window only for Wayne to point out the bloke walking down the street with a guitar is his son&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 33 – Court calls the Haka a “little chant”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 34 – Can’t find Fergburger walk past blaring music to sketchy dark street&lt;br /&gt;-         Guy beside sa offers chips &amp; Court devours monstrosity of burger while grill-hunny looks on&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 35  - Court thinks she must convert $$ when transferring islands&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**Theme song: Slice of Heaven by David Dobbin&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 36 – Sa dreams Frodo came into our room and Court &amp; her spoke to him “Court! You talked to him!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 37 – Woke up at 340am.  Sa: “Maybe we could sleep a LITTLE longer”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 38 – Snowed in QT buy by snow we mean light flurries that keep freezing on the roads&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 39 – Chains on cars make loud ass noise&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 40 – Dday&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 41 – Courts bank puts her on hold and transfers her to AT&amp;T “Yah I just wanted to say good morning to you too”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 42 – Shit bakery (ONLY bakery in QT)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 43 – Ride to Canyon swing was treacherous with much winding tiny paths – Crispy got us there then took off down tiny snow path along edge of cliff while Court went to wee in outhouse with snow covered toilet seat&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 44 – Canadian = Medical condition&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 45 – AmeriCAN vs. AmeriCANT&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 46 – Court swore at Crispy and Harry like it was her job &amp; then brought back 20cent pin in a death grip&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 47 -  Umbrellas are Crispy’s sorry attempt’s to protect us from bucketing snow&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 48 – Drive back to QT in snowstorm “Get fucking chains or get of the road!”&lt;br /&gt;-         Yah a car ran into us&lt;br /&gt;Problem 49 – Winterfest closed down &amp; Salima Wanted to take picture by kiwi bird while (sketchy) hunny looked on&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 50 – Nothing to do at night so ask Jeff what to do. . .he got on the phone. . .and. . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 51 – Jeff’s driving resembles Waynes &amp; we were chainless!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 52 – Walk into seedy building into room of 8 smoking late 20-30 year old men&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Memories:&lt;br /&gt;Chudley never missed a beat with pick up lines&lt;br /&gt;Chudley’s plums = tattooed and pierced – picture to prove it&lt;br /&gt;Chudley’s child from UK coming once snow cleared (buried?)&lt;br /&gt;Arrrr-Oh-Arrrr-UhWhyyy Rosy? Mark?&lt;br /&gt;“Dad” = ass and calls Court loud&lt;br /&gt;Boys had nicknames: darling, beautiful, sunshine, babe, big guy, tiny&lt;br /&gt;Rory = mountain man has legs so uses while Chudley uses his legs to sit.  And Salima has ears&lt;br /&gt;Distraction TV show – clothes pin on face, cement block smashing while lying on bed of nails&lt;br /&gt;John’s story about mother who put baby in oven = turkey?&lt;br /&gt;“Bless you, beautiful”&lt;br /&gt;To Court: You just sit there and look pretty&lt;br /&gt;Chudley’s business card with only name/number&lt;br /&gt;Jeff’s friend who when asked at customs if he had any alcohol/drugs retorted “I didn’t know that was a requirement.  Do you know where I could find some?” aaand deported. . .&lt;br /&gt;Chudley smells Court&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 53 – WE forgot entry code and it was 330am when we got home&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 54 – Bus DEFINITELY cancelled – Sa’s ass equipped with 2hrs of sleep goes to check&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 55 – ALL roads on South Island closed&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 56 – Salima has no idea what day it is and rearranges schedule wrong&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 57 – Dryer on far right = broken.  $12 later. . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 58 – WE reeked of MJ after poker night&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 59 – Winnie’s Hot Chocolate still cold&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 60 – Salima thinks guy in bar is Harry from Canyon so we both check out random&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 60B – Guy is NOT Harry&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 61 – The 2 people in the world most terrified of birds go to BIRDland park to check it out because everything closing (people just close up and go home because of weather)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 61 – Saw Sheep as ascending freezer box went up mountain (aka gondola) – not worth $20 but Hot Chocolate at café = worth it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 62 – Maori could have been just for the 2 of us but neither of us = male so had to kick around for late show&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 63 – Court’s throat getting sore &amp; she is getting sick&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 64 – Psychic Sarah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 65 – Rugby game at 1am NOT 10am the next day.  We were even invited by Maori’s to watch at Harry’s bar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 66 – Flight needed to be changed&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 67 – The Poi attacks Court&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 68 – Court cannot contain laughter during Haka&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 69 – Hot easy to use phones in N. the Zed.  (800 number not on Global Gossip phone/pay phone cuts out)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 70 – Phone: “I’ve broken down”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 71 – Finally decide to do shotover jet – booked up&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 72 – Decidet o hike up mountain with 1.5 hours of daylight left&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 73 – Cap’n Court’s outfit of sexy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 74 – Going to die on dark path with swaying/creaking trees with random goat&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 75 – Salima decides to take “vertical” bike path up to cut time to top.  It was vertical with multiple large tree trunks in way&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 76 – Saw sexy Maori friends. . .again. . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 77 – Salima’s extended Indian family let a fart trip while awaiting gondola.  They escaped leaving us to deal with it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 78 – Saying goodbye to Fudge shop&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 79 – Jeff’s sorrow about us leaving turns him into Steve Bin Nasty and makes fun of Court&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 80 – Japanese lady on bus – no English&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 81 – Eat at shit bakery again&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 82 – Young boy enquires about best seat on bus if sensitive to motion sickness while we occupy 2 most safe seats “we will see how he goes” &amp; “he hasn’t puked yet. .he’ll be fine”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 83 – Lady forgot parasail&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 84 – Salima wakes up to lady sitting in aisle talking gto driver about forgotten parasail&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 85 – How do you forget your parasail?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 86 – Sa eats it on icy stairs &amp; Court NOT concerned because she didn’t hear a “thunk”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 87 – Jim the driver who NOONE could understand&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem  88 – Conversation with Jim&lt;br /&gt;            Jim: Where are you going?&lt;br /&gt;            *Court Points to Salima who has just woken up&lt;br /&gt;            Sa: Franz Josef&lt;br /&gt;            Jim: We are ALL going to Franz Josef&lt;br /&gt;            Sa: Oh the YHA&lt;br /&gt;            Jim: Which Hostel? (snarky)&lt;br /&gt;            Sa: Oh Ill just look up the address.  The one on Cron Street&lt;br /&gt;            Jim: There are 8-10 hostels on Cron Street&lt;br /&gt;            Sa: Um. . .2-4 Cron Street?&lt;br /&gt;            Jim: Oh. . the YHA. . . (didn’t I say that about 3 min ago?!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 89 – Court has the giggles&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 90 – Geriatric smell of the hostel&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 91 – There are exactly 2 street in Franz Josef&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 92 – Food Really EXPENSIVE @ all FOUR pubs in Franz Josef&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 93 – No toilet on glacier&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 94 – No 20 min time card for internet at hostel&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 95 – Sent to Internet Café.  Which was located on an abandoned bus. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 96 – Guy at Front desk (Andy) watches discovery channel and tells us about a man with an ‘alien hand’ but makes fun of Big brother&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 97 – Lord of the Rings Tour number is inactive so we can’t cancel our tour&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 98 – Its Trivia Night at the Local bar.  And we entered.  And lost.  Miserably&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 99 – the ONLY grocery store closes at 745pm and re opens at 730 but no service until 8am&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 100 – Court sees a napkin + candle and concludes it would be a good idea to place napkin in the flame.  Napkin ignites and Court laugh so cannot blow out the flame.  She goes to set napkin down on WOODEN table and then pour water ontop beause the service is so bad she probably wont be able to get another glass of water.  Concludes to place napkin into glass of water and smoke begins to billow&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 101 – Sa’s voice went AWOL for a day&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 102 – Overpriced Salmon farm with barrel chairs that we conclude the bus would transport if we purchased them&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 103 – Geriatric Stench of YHA&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 104 – Courtney is paid a visit by Aunt Ruby &amp; Flow decides to avalanche&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 105 – We are going to hike a glacier for 8 hours removed from civilization and bathrooms&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 106 – Boots are too big and Court’s has a hole&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 107 – Bus almost leaves without us but we are sure guy who looks like Patrick Swayze would have made it wait&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 108 – Join slow group. Leader: Donkey. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 109 – Walking up glacier = slippery and woman stops randomly to suck on ice bits&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 110 – Salima’s Ice talon pick things keep faling off&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 111 – While Donkey was nice to look at (very Prince William) he was definitely an ass – kept pelting us with snowballs and didn’t notice when we’d get lost behind&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 112 – Toilet Break on Glacier&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 113 – Sa almost wedged in cone shaped crevice after sliding down 3 steps&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 114 – We get separated from group and Sa almost leads us off a canyon/sharp drop.  Good thing “sam” our Asian saviour yelled in panic.  Donkey didn’t even notice&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 115 – If we HAD fallen off the ledge we would have slit until Sa got wedged with Court landing on top of her with ice picks doing some serious damage to Sa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 116 – Salima trying to avoid falling in icey river scales snow wall only to have ledge fall out from under left foot and she ends up straddling snow wall – Court dies laughing while straddling icy river&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 117 – Donkey’s excellent instructions to both of us to save our lives “move your left foot” (where?!?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 118 – Court Slips onto ass&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 119 – The Nazi woman hauls our asses double time back to bus&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 120 – Our room at the hostel smelled worse than us&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 121 –Boys who thought we were checking them out on glacier (we were looking at Swayze) meet us in supermarket and we bond over Pods (chocolate)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 122 – Trying to cook dinner – only 2 burners work at a time&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 123 – (sketchy) Swayze lives at our hostel&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 124 – Andy interrupts our dinner to inform us we have not paid for the night&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 125 – Sa pops (unhealthy) Gatorade top and scares Andy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 126 – Steve’s night off – we tried to get Andy to call and say we fell off a glacier and Steve was our emergency contact. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 127 – Andy informs us internet is coin operated – see problem 94 – He couldn’t tell us then?! Apparently not&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 128 – Bus driver WILL leave if you show up at 1231&lt;br /&gt;Problem 129 – 1st top Bushman café with oversized bug/no heat/no running water&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 130 – Pet Goats at Bushman Café&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 131 – Possum Pies&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 132 – Really random commentary included uses of internet, how to use the atm and pointing out post office&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 133 – Lola came to chill with Murray and scared us (random figure hobbling back on bus in the dark)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 134 – Bus stopped to pick up hitchhiker and paid pilot (and by pilot I clearly meant driver)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 135 – Meet roommate Bjorn &amp; fantastic smell&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 136 – Knock on door at 1am (us + bjorn + murray just chilling) ---Noise complaint (our FIRST complaint. .wow)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 137 – Had to leave sweetie Bjorn (he set his alarm and opened door for us at 5am&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 138 – Shuttle drive would not shut up and hated Americans&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 139 – Nelson airport had no security – court = sa/sa = court and no one batted an eye&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 140 –Court left stolen butter knife behind – could have brought it with her!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 141 - $10 to store bag/$20 to leave airport to get into Aukland from Airport BUT there WAS a butterfly farm and best goshdarn minigolf just up the road&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 142 – Sbarro = cold pasta so Sa had to go heat up food in sketchy nursery&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 143 – Sa exchangest $30NZD to $25AUD&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 144 – Departure Tax = $25NZD &amp; Court told off because shes American&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 145 – With leftover NZ money we tried to buy some cakes – looked so hobo-like a lady gave us $1.40&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5195273777967037316-4715513833054819246?l=storiesbysa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/feeds/4715513833054819246/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5195273777967037316&amp;postID=4715513833054819246' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/4715513833054819246'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/4715513833054819246'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/2007/08/adventures-in-n-zed-new-zealand.html' title='Adventures in N the Zed (New Zealand!)'/><author><name>Sa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5195273777967037316.post-5606714114784278812</id><published>2007-05-20T17:33:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-20T18:13:02.569-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A TRUE SA ADVENTURE!! (only I could get myself into this mess)</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;I'm all up to date on my blog!!  This story happened not more than 4 hours ago. . . . &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;This morning I woke up at 6am to go for my run but realised the sunrise wasnt until 647 so I wasted some time on facebook (see sabira's wall) and debated goin to back to bed. . . .which probably would have been safer/a good idea considering what I ended up getting myself into&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;So I run to the lighthouse, watch the sun peak through the clouds - its picture perfect.  I'm all feeling great and suddenly get this urge to climb the rocks I ususally climb.  Anyways I make it down my rocks then look up at the cliff - and I realise I can totally climb up to sit on the cliff beside the lookout point.  See, the lookout has this huge fence that is taller than me so I have to peak trhough the bars or climb up onto the fence to be able to see.  And it would be the most gorgeous spot of I didnt have that stupid fence.  So I decided to get to the side without the fence - so I hike over the rocks, across the plateau, over a few rocks, down into a quiet lagoon, and up the side of a cliff (There was a little bit of a path).  So I make it to the lookout point and am so on top of the world. But as I turned to head back something caught my eye. . . . . . . . . .&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;There was a few steps leading down to a ledge about 15  feet below the lookout that I would never have seen before.  So I get the impulse to climb down to this ledge.  So I'm hopping from rock to rock, and then I hit this sharp drop in the cliffside.  There are some stepping rocks sticking out so I begin my descent.  As I slide down the cliffside I hear this loud 'riiipp' that is clearly not a sound of nature.  Yes, friends, I ripped a Huge HUGE hole in the ass of my pants.  But I continued on my journey to the ledge. . . . &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I read the ledge and assess damage.  Yes.  There IS a hole in my pants.  and YES I am wearing my tighty-whities.  Fantastic.  Oh.  And the ledge is about the size of a bathtub -so yes, there is no wehre for me to go but back - I couldn't sit on the ledge cuz my butt woulda gotten cold!  So I turn to leave thinking the adventure is over. . . .&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I find myself facing an almost vertical wall to get back up to the lookout.  I honestly thought I might not make it. . so I'd live out the rest of my days on this random isolated ledge with a hole in the ass of my pants.  So I definately scaled the cliff, Spiderman style, with a huge hole in my pants, with my tighty-whities showing.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Anyways make it up to the lookout and civilization.  I must have looked like that feral child rising out of the cliffside as I was covered in dirt and my hair was a mess and Im sure there was some sort of plant life garnishing my hair.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;So I didnt feel much like climbing back down the cliff, to the lagoon, over the rocks, across the plateau, up the other rocks, along the ledge, and up a hill.  SO I decided to follow the fence down to the beach.   Except, note: I was on the WRONG side of the fence.  And the grass and thorn bushes growing on my side had not been touched by man.  So I'm hugging the fence, trudging through grass up to my flipping knee/thigh, while thorns scratch at my legs and my bare ass, when I hear a rustle. . . . . &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Yes, folks, I thought I was goin to die because of a snake.  But it turned out to be just a rabbit.  But at this point I hopped up on the fence and continued along at least 100 m of fence by placing my feet between the bars as I stood on the base horizonal post.  And Yes, all the people on the otherside of the fence saw me.  Good thing, they could only see my front and not the hole in my pants.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Anyways make it to the end of the fence looking positively feral.  And I start my walk home.  Men are scum by the way as I was HONKED at on my way home because of the hole in my pants.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Despite all my trauma I came home and burst into Kate's room to tell her about my adventure.  Please note - This story is ALL me.  I have no one to blame for this but myself.  Also! I could have not shared this story but I truly feel everyone will enjoy this tale.  :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5195273777967037316-5606714114784278812?l=storiesbysa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/feeds/5606714114784278812/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5195273777967037316&amp;postID=5606714114784278812' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/5606714114784278812'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/5606714114784278812'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/2007/05/true-sa-adventure-only-i-could-get.html' title='A TRUE SA ADVENTURE!! (only I could get myself into this mess)'/><author><name>Sa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5195273777967037316.post-4373668029114662187</id><published>2007-05-20T17:32:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-20T17:33:08.928-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sometimes I'm not all here</title><content type='html'>Convo with Esther&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Esther: Did you meet the Fijian at my party?&lt;br /&gt;Salima: Yah, where's he from?&lt;br /&gt;Esther: Fiji.&lt;br /&gt;Kate: Was that a trick question?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5195273777967037316-4373668029114662187?l=storiesbysa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/feeds/4373668029114662187/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5195273777967037316&amp;postID=4373668029114662187' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/4373668029114662187'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/4373668029114662187'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/2007/05/sometimes-im-not-all-here.html' title='Sometimes I&apos;m not all here'/><author><name>Sa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5195273777967037316.post-5913605032124630721</id><published>2007-05-20T17:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-20T17:32:00.026-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Esther, you owe me big time!</title><content type='html'>It was Esther's 21st birthday and she got RANDOMLY invited to this little filipino lady's house for dinner.  She had met them at church and they took her in and decided to cook her this HUGE dinner.  So she needed a wing-girl so it wasnt all awkward becasue she barely knew them.  I ended up going with her. . .anyways so we get picked up by this little Malaysian dude and he's totally blaring the Christian 'PRAISE JESUS' music. . . . Get to the house . .eat a huge dinner . . .talking history and politics the entire time (painful?. . yes!) THREE HOURS later we manage to escape by saying the library is closing at Uni and we had to go there before 930!  Then we totally hit up the Havana Nights party where I finally got to put my Salsa lessons to work!! :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5195273777967037316-5913605032124630721?l=storiesbysa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/feeds/5913605032124630721/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5195273777967037316&amp;postID=5913605032124630721' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/5913605032124630721'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/5913605032124630721'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/2007/05/esther-you-owe-me-big-time.html' title='Esther, you owe me big time!'/><author><name>Sa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5195273777967037316.post-96811465802034545</id><published>2007-05-20T17:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-20T17:27:50.402-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I got a pet!</title><content type='html'>There was a huge cage/trap set up outside my room.  we thought it was to catch the GIGANTIC rat-like creature living in the bushes but turns out it was to catch the pigeons that keep shitting in the Korean's kitchen.   Anyways one day they catch a feral bird and this bird did NOT like the idea of being in a cage.  And I'm terrified of birds. . . so I named the bird Palila the Pigeon (see pictures) - Anyways she would randomly flutter and scare the shit out of me for that night.  They took her away the next day and apparently she's living on a nice pigeon farm by the beach right now. . . . . . . .&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5195273777967037316-96811465802034545?l=storiesbysa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/feeds/96811465802034545/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5195273777967037316&amp;postID=96811465802034545' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/96811465802034545'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/96811465802034545'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/2007/05/i-got-pet.html' title='I got a pet!'/><author><name>Sa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5195273777967037316.post-6469924026252257709</id><published>2007-05-20T17:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-20T17:19:49.827-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Things I have learnt</title><content type='html'>Did you know Sweden drove on the left side of the road and then after much deliberation switched to the RIGHT side one day?!  Apparently that was the worst day ever for car accidents. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In India they drive on the left side.  Just wanted to share&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5195273777967037316-6469924026252257709?l=storiesbysa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/feeds/6469924026252257709/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5195273777967037316&amp;postID=6469924026252257709' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/6469924026252257709'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/6469924026252257709'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/2007/05/things-i-have-learnt.html' title='Things I have learnt'/><author><name>Sa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5195273777967037316.post-4597772915592973817</id><published>2007-05-20T17:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-20T17:18:48.364-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My random decision to go to the Mountains/Caves!</title><content type='html'>2 weekends ago I packed a bag and headed off to Sydney to take a tour of the Blue Mountains and Jenolan caves!  IT was super fun and I met a guy from theUK (Stewart), 2 girls from Denmark (Enya and Trine) and a whole Indian family.  Anyways the tour guide was obsessed with India (yah he was definately Aussie. . he hitchhiked his way around for 2 yrs) and kept busting out 'hindi' and 'bollywood stories' and talking about fobby food.  It was weird.  And then I went to see two plays at Uni New South Wales in Sydney which were amazing!! looong day but jampacked and FUN!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5195273777967037316-4597772915592973817?l=storiesbysa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/feeds/4597772915592973817/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5195273777967037316&amp;postID=4597772915592973817' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/4597772915592973817'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/4597772915592973817'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/2007/05/my-random-decision-to-go-to.html' title='My random decision to go to the Mountains/Caves!'/><author><name>Sa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5195273777967037316.post-5841908474137401477</id><published>2007-05-20T16:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-20T17:15:07.269-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Confessions: It was Me</title><content type='html'>At our residence we have fire alarms going off up to six times a week and we all hate it.  But on sunday I did the unthinkable.  I set off the alarm.  Heres the story:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we were experimenting with the pancakes - we made basic vanilla ones, and then thought we should add cinnamon sugar to them, then thought hey lets add COCOA and have Chocolate pancakes.  By this point the pan was insanely hot and apparently cocoa burns quite nicely so I pour the batter onto the pan. .and it starts bubbling like a MAD science experiment!  So I go to flip em and they are CHARCOAL black and the smoke is pouring out of the pan. . .aaan then the fire alarm goes off. . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It took 2 fire trucks&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;from 2 rural counties&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and about 15 firemen&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;to save us from my chocolate pancake. . . .&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5195273777967037316-5841908474137401477?l=storiesbysa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/feeds/5841908474137401477/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5195273777967037316&amp;postID=5841908474137401477' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/5841908474137401477'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/5841908474137401477'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/2007/05/confessions-it-was-me.html' title='Confessions: It was Me'/><author><name>Sa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5195273777967037316.post-6574763800743430724</id><published>2007-05-20T16:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-20T16:58:40.742-07:00</updated><title type='text'>We were SO into Spiderman 3 we BECAME sand people!</title><content type='html'>Michelle Carlye and I decided to make a day trip to Darling Harbour to watch Spiderman on the Worlds Largest movie screen!!  :D:D  So we get on the train and Carlye ties her hair into this weird Abe Lincoln type beard so she can start braiding it (into tiny braids) - that was quite the sight.  Anyways on the train we start to discuss random things and we totally ended up talking about how we wouldn't fit in in China and Carlye goes "yah i'm just so much taller" as her contribution as to why she wouldn't fit.  Cuz she CLEARLY looks Chinese but just a little taller. . .haha! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our thoughts on Spiderman: why did were we still watching that movie 30 minutes into it?!  It wsa so bad it was funny!!  (Plus we each paid $19 to get in) Here are some of our takes on the events of the movie:&lt;br /&gt;1. People fall into physics experiments EVERYDAY and what if it wasnt a person but rather a BIRD? Would it become a gigantic unkillable bird?!&lt;br /&gt;2. How did the sandman become a mudman (and then did he just dry off to become sand again?) and then he became a HUGE sand man and then when he was forgiven he stopped being a menace and blew away into teh wind. . .THE WORLD JUST NEEDS MORE LOVE PEOPLE!&lt;br /&gt;3. Toby wears contacts and has hair on his ears (yah the screen was THAT big)&lt;br /&gt;4. why wasn't spiderman emo before?  he TOTALLY can pull off the look *note sarcasm* but the best was when he thought he was hot shit. ..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On our way out of the theatre there was a band shooting a music video so we listened for a while - except they kept playing the same 2 lines of one song for a good 30 minutes.  Anyways after about 20 minutes they start the lines again and Michelle turns to me and goes "I think I know this song" hahah!  only because we've been listening to it for the past 20 minutes, silly!! :P &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Carlye was taking long frame shots but Michelle and I kept moving so we ended up looking like sandpeople - cool, non?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we came home and went out for Court's half birthday!!  Partying it up at Cooneys where I met two guys we met on the train on our way to Sydney for the Soca party!  How WEIRD is that?!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5195273777967037316-6574763800743430724?l=storiesbysa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/feeds/6574763800743430724/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5195273777967037316&amp;postID=6574763800743430724' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/6574763800743430724'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/6574763800743430724'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/2007/05/we-were-so-into-spiderman-3-we-became.html' title='We were SO into Spiderman 3 we BECAME sand people!'/><author><name>Sa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5195273777967037316.post-8189525396076753143</id><published>2007-05-20T16:33:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-20T16:37:16.777-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Where was this conversation going?</title><content type='html'>Randomly sitting in the kitchen one day with Sarah and Nicki. . . .  and the conversation covered the following topics&lt;br /&gt;1. Nude Beaches&lt;br /&gt;2. Nude Gay Beaches = Orgy&lt;br /&gt;3. Piercings &amp; Plugs&lt;br /&gt;4. How Matt will look like Jesus soon (hes growing a beard)&lt;br /&gt;5. Sarah says totally out of the blue &lt;strong&gt;"The other day I was on the train and there was a guy with a nice haircut and totally clean shaven but the top of his nose was hairy".&lt;/strong&gt;   (whaaat?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaing of Jesus - at a rock bar one night with Carlye there was a guy who totally had the Jesus look so I pointed him out to Carlye, except she saw another guy with a beard who had one arm.  So she goes "I dunno. . but I think I'm pretty sure that Jesus had TWO arms".  (soo funny - seeing as she's Jewish and I'm Muslim and we're sitting there discussing Jesus' limbs!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5195273777967037316-8189525396076753143?l=storiesbysa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/feeds/8189525396076753143/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5195273777967037316&amp;postID=8189525396076753143' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/8189525396076753143'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/8189525396076753143'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/2007/05/where-was-this-conversation-going.html' title='Where was this conversation going?'/><author><name>Sa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5195273777967037316.post-3323145350652922634</id><published>2007-05-20T16:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-20T16:32:24.574-07:00</updated><title type='text'>MEEEEMMORRIIEESSS!! - ah!  musicals!</title><content type='html'>Markus and I went to see Cats the musical at Win Stadium one night.  Except we didn't know it was amateur theatre. . .so there were like 100 people shoved onto this tiny little stage with the band out front!  There was so much to look at neither of us could really focus so we ended up noticing random things&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. There were some people who should NEVER wear spandex and dance around the stage&lt;br /&gt;2. Markus found the girl with the biggest boobs&lt;br /&gt;3. I found the least gay guy on the stage. . .the drummer. . . .&lt;br /&gt;4. Two people smacked into each other and had a 'cat' fight off on the side. . hahah 'cat fight' get it? -- Just go with it people!&lt;br /&gt;5. The 'king cat' tripped on his robe&lt;br /&gt;6. There was a magician needed to make the trains run on time. . wth?! WAS there a point to that scene?  Suddenly we were on a train and there was a magician&lt;br /&gt;7. Crooks, Magicians, Old Actor, Crazy Old Lady, Fat Old Man,  Elvis Cat, Pirates, and Superheroes....all in one play&lt;br /&gt;8. Random war between chinese cats wearing marvin the martian helmets against the scruffy cats... we had NO idea what was going on&lt;br /&gt;9. The leading lady cat was supposed to go up in the moon but due to low budget she just stood behind the moon and then ran sketchily offstage, hoping none of us oculd see her?  I dunno. . . but we laughed SO hard&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5195273777967037316-3323145350652922634?l=storiesbysa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/feeds/3323145350652922634/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5195273777967037316&amp;postID=3323145350652922634' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/3323145350652922634'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/3323145350652922634'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/2007/05/meeeemmorriieesss-ah-musicals.html' title='MEEEEMMORRIIEESSS!! - ah!  musicals!'/><author><name>Sa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5195273777967037316.post-6217087866618365002</id><published>2007-05-20T16:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-20T16:25:16.896-07:00</updated><title type='text'>WHY IS THERE A PENIS IN MY FRIDGE?!</title><content type='html'>So upon returning from my trip to Bateman's bay I came home and went into my fridge to get out some milk and much to my surprise there was a 7" dildo nicely stashed in the door of my fridge.  Needless to say I screamed rather loudly "WHY IS THERE A PENIS IN MY FRIDGE?!?!" and apparently Patrick heard me in his room on the other side of the building!  This is a nice lead into how I am the champion of the penis game - Markus, Patrick, and I were walking down the street one night and decided to play the game where you start off whispering 'penis' and end up yelling it at the top of your lungs - the loudest person wins!  Anyways Markus beat Patrick so I played Markus and I totally blew him out of the water!! There was nooo judgement needed. . .clearly I won! :P  I guess I don't realise how loud I can actually be!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh yah the dildo. . Markus and Michael had bought it as a joke gift for Jorje.  they wanted to make him a 'Dick in a box' -- If you're confused watch this: &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BKOiBZpUKW8"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BKOiBZpUKW8&lt;/a&gt;. . its a justin timberlake saturday night live thing that the guys are obsessed with. . . .) -- Anyways they recreated a dick in a box. . .but the dick was stored in my fridge for a night&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5195273777967037316-6217087866618365002?l=storiesbysa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/feeds/6217087866618365002/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5195273777967037316&amp;postID=6217087866618365002' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/6217087866618365002'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/6217087866618365002'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/2007/05/why-is-there-penis-in-my-fridge.html' title='WHY IS THERE A PENIS IN MY FRIDGE?!'/><author><name>Sa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5195273777967037316.post-6067492289329113813</id><published>2007-05-20T15:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-20T16:19:11.425-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Living it up 6 Star Style!</title><content type='html'>One weekend four of us girls headed down to Bateman's bay to Skye's beach house!  It was absolutely the most gorgeous house ever and it was right on an inlet.  Highlights:&lt;br /&gt;1. Drinking champagne in sweatpants looking like total shit! :D&lt;br /&gt;2. Skye's knock knock joke (she was a little tipsy at the time)&lt;br /&gt;      Skye: Knock Knock!!&lt;br /&gt;      Us: Who's there?&lt;br /&gt;      Skye: Don't cry it's only a joke!! &lt;br /&gt;(She missed the part where she goes 'boo' and we go 'boo, who?!') -- Priceless!  And then we played the penis game (see who can yell penis the loudest) off the balcony and danced to random stupid songs like Mambo number five.  Then we slept out on the balcony underneath a blanket of stars!&lt;br /&gt;3. We went to a NOT nude beach however one guy felt he SHOULD be naked and we saw his pasty white bottom from afar. . yaaaay.&lt;br /&gt;4. We had a theme song and it is &lt;em&gt;Middle of the &lt;/em&gt;Hill by Josh Pyke and the lyrics are as follows (it is THE most random song I have ever heard. . apart from the song titled 'Gay Bar':&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;when i was a kid i grew up in a houseon a hill&lt;br /&gt;not the top not the bottom but the middle&lt;br /&gt;and i still remember where i cracked my head&lt;br /&gt;in the vacant lot theres a row of tiny houses there now&lt;br /&gt;and we used to light fires in the gutters&lt;br /&gt;and i could cool my head on the concrete steps&lt;br /&gt;but the girl down the street&lt;br /&gt;hit my sister on the head with a stick&lt;br /&gt;and we hid behind my father as he knocked on her parents door&lt;br /&gt;to tell them what she did&lt;br /&gt;but the parents were drunk so they really didnt give a shit&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and the girl down the street said a dog couldnt bark&lt;br /&gt;cause a man with an axe cut its voice box out&lt;br /&gt;but my older sister told me that it probably wasn't true&lt;br /&gt;and i believe what she said coz she took me by my hand&lt;br /&gt;one time when a couple men drove down the hill in a white van&lt;br /&gt;said there was a phone box filled with&lt;br /&gt;money round the corner and i would have gone along&lt;br /&gt;but she took me by my hand to the house on the middle of the hill&lt;br /&gt;on the midle of the hill&lt;br /&gt;on the middle of the hill&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and my mother knew the words to a lot of different songs&lt;br /&gt;and we always sing the harmonies when we'd sing along&lt;br /&gt;she had cool cool hands when the fever hit&lt;br /&gt;and then the noises that the trains made&lt;br /&gt;sounded like people in my head&lt;br /&gt;and the stories that the ceiling told through the pictures&lt;br /&gt;on the grains and the pine wood bumps&lt;br /&gt;and i could stay out side till the sky went red&lt;br /&gt;and i'd cool my head on the concrete steps&lt;br /&gt;and we could never really see the top from the bottom&lt;br /&gt;i dont pay enough attention to the good things but i gotta&lt;br /&gt;you could never really see the top from the bottom&lt;br /&gt;i dont pay enough attention to the good things but i gotta&lt;br /&gt;i dont pay enough attention to the good things but i gotta&lt;br /&gt;i dont pay enough attention to the good things but i gotta&lt;br /&gt;i dont pay enough attention to the good things but i gotta&lt;br /&gt;i dont pay enough attention to the good things but i gotta now&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5195273777967037316-6067492289329113813?l=storiesbysa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/feeds/6067492289329113813/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5195273777967037316&amp;postID=6067492289329113813' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/6067492289329113813'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/6067492289329113813'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/2007/05/living-it-up-6-star-style.html' title='Living it up 6 Star Style!'/><author><name>Sa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5195273777967037316.post-7445678518497808006</id><published>2007-05-20T15:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-20T15:30:16.546-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Yah Mohn. ..Let's eat dem pancakes!</title><content type='html'>On April 27th a group of us headed up to Sydney to attend a Soca party put on by DJ Spin D Music in Sydney!  A friend of mine knew the dj :)  I went to stay at Sandy's house (Saskatchewan).  IT was AWESOME fun with latin, carribbean, reggae music going all night long.  The club was amazing too - there was a sports bar, a lounge, a pool hall/gaming room, and the dance floor! :D  Highlights of the evening:&lt;br /&gt;1. Sandy didnt have toilet paper so she JACKED toilet paper from the club!  How indian!&lt;br /&gt;2. Sandy, Nadia, and I shared a double bed. . . it was slightly squishy plus it didnt help Nadia snores like a trucker and when she wasn't snoring SAndy would add in her little feminine snore...At 4am I super badly had to pee so I had to shove Nadia out of bed go upstairs and for some reason Sandy's flatmate was up and the door didn't reach all the way to the floor so there was random light and I couldn't figure out what was going on! &lt;br /&gt;3. I definately picked up a random Kenyan (we danced together) and he kept messaging me the next day...he was a PhD!! Not bad for a bar find, eh? Gave him the flip anyways. .. didnt feel right to lead the poor guy on&lt;br /&gt;4. Met a guy who lives IN my building at the bar. .weird, eh? I hadn't met him here but definately found him in a bar in Sydney. . . . .. &lt;br /&gt;5. Played racing car games with Sandy and Markus in the gaming room!  I lost one and won one...:P&lt;br /&gt;6. The next morning we all hauled out asses out to Pancakes on the Rocks to meet Kate and Nathan for breakfast!  BEST PANCAKES IN THE WORLD!!  I had the vanilla chocolate surprise which consisted of a vanilla pancake and a choc pancake smothered in choc sauce with strawberries and choc/van icecream on top!!  Highlight of my day!!!!!! :D&lt;br /&gt;7. Wandered around Sydney for the entire day with Sandy :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5195273777967037316-7445678518497808006?l=storiesbysa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/feeds/7445678518497808006/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5195273777967037316&amp;postID=7445678518497808006' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/7445678518497808006'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/7445678518497808006'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/2007/05/yah-mohn-lets-eat-dem-pancakes.html' title='Yah Mohn. ..Let&apos;s eat dem pancakes!'/><author><name>Sa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5195273777967037316.post-2036711493132652552</id><published>2007-05-03T16:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-03T16:45:15.638-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Add a Dash of Masala and a Pinch of Fob. . .</title><content type='html'>Apparently wherever I go I will get people to start cracking Indian jokes. . . . and make fun/enjoy the true gems of my 'motherland'.  I've even got some of the most politically correct people ever to walk this earth to crack a couple gooders! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Me: You should watch Bend It Like Beckham&lt;br /&gt;    Patrick: Why would I?  It's got soccer and brown people!  Two of my least favourite things!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. I went shopping with Patrick and I was by the oranges and he turns the corner by the onions and bursts out laughing.  So I go over to investigate.  There are two types of onions sitting side by side: 'White' and 'Brown'.  So we agreed I'd buy 'my type' of onion and he'll buy his! :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. The shopping mall in Canberra's parking lot is colour coded and guess what level we parked on. . . yup. . .the Brown one&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Michael randomly wrote on my door:&lt;br /&gt;"Salima is like chocolate because:&lt;br /&gt;1. She's sweet&lt;br /&gt;2. She's brown&lt;br /&gt;3. Everyone Loves her"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Erin found a bhangra music video on YouTube (PLEASE watch this folks: &lt;a href="http://youtube.com/watch?v=-bAN7Ts0xBo"&gt;http://youtube.com/watch?v=-bAN7Ts0xBo&lt;/a&gt;) and we all now do the dance and are in the process of choreographing a line dance for the entire of our res to this song.  The highlights of the video - the random fluttering motion during the chorus, the rodeo move (the Patrick dance), When he bangs on the ground and the earth shatters. . . ) - We plan on taking this to clubs. . it's just too much fun!  If anyone feels like finding the song and emailing it to me I will love you forever!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5195273777967037316-2036711493132652552?l=storiesbysa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/feeds/2036711493132652552/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5195273777967037316&amp;postID=2036711493132652552' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/2036711493132652552'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/2036711493132652552'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/2007/05/add-dash-of-masala-and-pinch-of-fob.html' title='Add a Dash of Masala and a Pinch of Fob. . .'/><author><name>Sa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5195273777967037316.post-637928402726980387</id><published>2007-05-03T16:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-03T16:29:54.985-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Southeast Asia is Closer than I thought. .  .</title><content type='html'>So about a month ago about 30 Koreans moved into the backpacker's lodging.  They are going to be here for three monhts.  Anyways so first impressions - "holy crap that's a lot of Asians - maybe we can make friends with them."  They however probably saw us and thought "holy crap look people.  Let's annoy the shit out of them. . . " So here is my venting about the Asians:&lt;br /&gt;1. They won't say good morning to you&lt;br /&gt;2. They talk loudly on cell phones by the TV when you are trying to watch a movie&lt;br /&gt;3. They hog the computers to look at their stupid asian facebook or whatever the hell they are looking at.  So one person will come to a 'good' picture then call the crew over and they all leave the computers they are sitting at to crowd around the one computer and then they chatter about the picture and then disperse again .. until another good photo is found.. and then they all crowd and chatter. . .and then disperse. . and the cycle continues! &lt;br /&gt;4. One guy BRAIDED long blonde pieces of fake hair into his hair.  WTH?&lt;br /&gt;5. The language has secondary sounds that just sound like they are having sex all the time! "ooooh! OOOH!  OOOOOOHHH"  and I ask you. .wth?! &lt;br /&gt;6. My Heart Will Go On (Celine Dion) is their anthem I swear. .except they sing it in Korean - eeeven weirder&lt;br /&gt;7. They NAP in the afternoon so they are truly energized to stay awake for the entire night chattering incessently outside my window!!  oh and making sex noises. . . .&lt;br /&gt;8. They drag their feet when they walk because their shoes are too big!  I can now identify the sound of Koreans walking&lt;br /&gt;9. They play badminton in the courtyard at random hours of the night.  why?  I dunno?  but it's annoying&lt;br /&gt;10. They hail busses (which are goin to stop anyways), get onto the bus without paying/checking where it is going, and then the bus driver has to call them all back to the front to pay and then they evacuate cuz they realize that is not where they want to go. . haha I kinda wish a bus driver had just driven off with them on board (Courtney witnessed this one day at the bus stop) &lt;br /&gt;11. They watch Korean soap operas for HOURS on the communal TV&lt;br /&gt;12. They sing random Korean songs all the time!  One girl is like the Korean Idol because she does NOT shut up!  &lt;br /&gt;13. They play their ringtones for amusement at like midnight.  Except their ringtones sound like annoying toys (the Made in China type musical instruments)&lt;br /&gt;14. They LINK arms and walk down the ramp ever so slowly so you get trapped behind them&lt;br /&gt;15. On the bus, they will all file off from the back before anyone from the front has left so we have to all stand there and watch while they walk by us. . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Phew.  That felt good to get it all out there.  :P  It's not that I hate all asians. . just man this is annoying bunch of em! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Tuesday night, I went to see a random Chinese movie! Just because I hadn't seen one before.  It was freaking amazing!!  Empress sleeps with stepson, Emperor poisons Empress, Crown Prince sleeps with Doctor's daughter, Doctor's wife slept with Emperor, Crown Prince sleeping with his half-sister, Ninjas,  attempt a coupe, Younger son goes insane and kills older brother, Emperor beats younger son to death, a suicide attempt, an actual suicide.. . . this movie had it ALL!   (and I didn't mind reading the subtitles - although I did close my eyes and just listen to the talking a couple of times because it made me feel like i was back in my room. . .the incessent chattering in an asian dialect).   The best part - I couldn't tell you what the movie was called either!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5195273777967037316-637928402726980387?l=storiesbysa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/feeds/637928402726980387/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5195273777967037316&amp;postID=637928402726980387' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/637928402726980387'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/637928402726980387'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/2007/05/southeast-asia-is-closer-than-i-thought.html' title='Southeast Asia is Closer than I thought. .  .'/><author><name>Sa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5195273777967037316.post-7477766400735768703</id><published>2007-05-03T16:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-03T16:10:08.642-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Room Smelled Like a Bowling Alley</title><content type='html'>This story is as follows:&lt;br /&gt;One day Salima walked into her room.  And It smelled like a bowling alley.  She called Nathan to come confirm and he agreed that her room smelled like a bowling alley.  The End. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Except the best part of the story is how I was telling Carlye about the smell and she replied&lt;br /&gt;"Well sometimes my room smells like smoke but that's probably because my neighbour is smoking.  But it's not like Matt is running a bowling alley out of his room.  So yah.  That's weird".  And she said it so matter-of-fact it was freaking hilarious!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5195273777967037316-7477766400735768703?l=storiesbysa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/feeds/7477766400735768703/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5195273777967037316&amp;postID=7477766400735768703' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/7477766400735768703'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/7477766400735768703'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/2007/05/my-room-smelled-like-bowling-alley.html' title='My Room Smelled Like a Bowling Alley'/><author><name>Sa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5195273777967037316.post-5611134575184569654</id><published>2007-05-03T15:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-03T16:06:13.274-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sa. . .the Rocker?</title><content type='html'>I was bored one day so I made up a huge list of things I want to do (like plays, shows, concerts, etc) and my neighbour, Matt came to see what was on there.  There was a rock concert on that weekend and I mentioned to him about it - He FREAKED out when I told him who was playing because he was listening to their stuff the night before.  The group was the Screaming Jets (Aussie band and EVERYONE knows their stuff).  So off went me, Erin, Serge (guy from Syria with the awesomest ringlet curly hair!), and Matt (quiet, engineer neighbour) *kind of a random group of people. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we at the train station we couldn't figure out the machine to buy out tickets and this random guy came over to help.  His name was Marty and he was really sweet.  Anyways turns out he's in charge of building all the banks in Australia and his company is the one rebuilding Ground Zero - so a REALLY important guy!  (Crazy that I just randomly started chatting with him!). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways turns out that the train wasn't running all the way to where we wanted to go because the tracks had been flooded so we had to catch random busses.  So we're sitting on the bus. . just riding it (with albeit some sketchy characters. .random old guy who kept making eyeglasses (specs) out of his fingers and running around the bus) and finally Matt and I check our watches and we are 15 min later than when we were supposed to arrive.  Then we look at the stop we had just gotten to. . . YUP we had overshot!  So we had to catch a bus baack to Shelharbour!  Woopsie! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways we totally grab some food and go into the concert hall.  Which has tables set up. . . and people are sitting down like at a dinner theatre!  Weiiiiiirdd!  Anyways the opening band gets up there and they were SO entertaining.  They played random jungle beats on the percussion instruments and stuff!  It was awesome  (we took a picture with them later).  Anyways then the Screaming Jets get up there and MATT TOTALLY ROCKED OUT!  It was really fun to see!  :D The best part was that the hall was really tiny so we were right up beside the stage and stuff!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that is the story of how Sa rocked out and had yet another random adventure!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5195273777967037316-5611134575184569654?l=storiesbysa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/feeds/5611134575184569654/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5195273777967037316&amp;postID=5611134575184569654' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/5611134575184569654'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/5611134575184569654'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/2007/05/sa-rocker.html' title='Sa. . .the Rocker?'/><author><name>Sa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5195273777967037316.post-2455401838985003686</id><published>2007-05-03T07:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-03T08:17:41.085-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Everything is Funnier when You've Been on a Bus for 12 Hours</title><content type='html'>I know I haven't posted on my blog in a quite a while so I'm going to do some catching up in the next few weeks so keep checking back!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For my Easter Break I got the fantastic idea to backpack from Wollongong to Melbourne with a stop in Canberra (to spend Easter with Michaels family). The trip in its entirety was really REALLY random (just a warning). So I've decided to list the details in the same format as my France journal - Random thoughts in a random order without dates or any sort of flow. . . enjoy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Going clubbing in Canberra - WHAT IS THE DEAL?! The guys are so preppy its pushing the gay-limit. I saw at least 5 guys with sweaters tied around their shoulders (SRK style. . . .) and they all dance! Like bust out the moves type dancing! It was truly amazing - the guys dance more than the girls! And we were in a club upstairs and they started playing Beware of Boys (Punjabi MC) and I had never heard this in a club and people started dancing all fob-like and everything! hahaha! I laughed&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Michaels house was so gorgeous! Pool, waterfall, ensuites, huge tv. . . yah no problem. . . it was amazing! And his family was so incredible and nice! :D I heart the Tokich clan!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. My new found love of Rugby! GOOO BRUMBIES!!! (P.S. a brumbie is a wild horse. It took us a while to actually figure out what it was)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Hot air balloon that looked like Mike Wazowski (yah from Monsters Inc!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Bus driver who yelled a girl for going pee on the bus because we had stopped at a toilet. but then he yelled at another person who went pee and got back 1 min late. . . WHAT WERE WE SUPPOSED TO DO?! Thank god my bladder was holding up okay&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Take bus to random small town called Narooma. Walk to a dodgy bar - guy suggests we take a 'river cruise' aboard the 'wagonga princess' - so i'm all about it so we hike our asses down to Taylors fish &amp; Chips. The 'princess' is a boat about the size of a bathtub and 'Charlie' did not show up that day to run the cruise because well. . he probably had more important things to take care of - like bake a cake for 'Mary' because her dog isn't feeling well (that was sarcasm about small town folk. . . dont get me wrong here. . i love em but it was kinda funny) - Anyways so we randomly fell asleep in a park, then by the river - where I saw people pull up with a little fishing boat with the HUGEST fish ever! (It was about the size of the 'wagonga'. . .nope. im not joking). So I took pictures of the people. Also met a random Canadian. Went to see Meet the Robinsons (yah the kids movie) at the 'Kinema' - apparently the resident academic in Narooma took the day off the sign for the cinema was made. And then we found Reeses Pieces in a random 'Lolly and Video' store - Narooma wasn't big enough to have a Candy store AND a Video rental place separate so they just put them together. Board the bus at 10pm for the next leg of the adventure. . . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. So we get on the bus and EVERYONE is passed out all over the bus - so we grab two aisle seats (our 'beds' for the night - this was an overnight bus) and the girl who i got to sit beside totally had her hands in her pockets so her elbows were jabbing into me. Anyways it's SUPER hard to sleep in the aisle of a bus when you are literally falling out of your seat. So we stop at a random gas station at 4am (I have slept very minimally) and Erin gets off the bus, looks at me and goes "I am in hell" and for some reason I laughed for a good 20 minutes about this comment. Anyways turns out the girl I was hating on for the elbows was from Quebec and we ended up chatting for a good portion of the rest of our bus ride (she was working as she travelled around Aus - Very cool girl. . killer with the elbows though)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Take a tour to Philip Island to see penguins march - however we made a million stops along the way and had the joy of seeing koalas. Let me explain here. Koalas are cool. The first 2-3 are neat. I mean they're bears. But They dont move. Or DO anything. So goin to see koalas for hours - not the funnest thing. Anyways, we make it to Philip Island (we totally scammed VIP seats becasue the tour guide liked us) so we're sitting really close the penguins and the kid beside me totally starts talking to me. He had binoculars that were his mum's but she had let him borrow them and was 'a little 5' (i.e just turned five) and we totally counted penguins together. (kinda random)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. Go on a day tour to the 12 Apostles the next day - Deb our tour guide was awesome and we totally chatted the entire way. Now y'all may be wondering why we were talking to the tour guides - the reason is that our entire tours were almost ALL asian and none of them spoke english. So they chattered away merrily in asian dialects and we were left to occupy ourselves by chatting to our guides. Nothing really funny happened that day - although we did take some random pictures (hiding in the bushes, building houses, climbing rocks, etc). Oh and I fell deathly ill this day (cold, cough, etc).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Found the DODGIEST/SKETCHIEST Jazz club in the world (Bennett's Lane Jazz Club) but it was everything I could've asked for. Too bad we were 2 hours late and got lost so only made it for one song - it was literally down a back alley with a flickering sign outside with the most eccentric crowd inside! It was awesome!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. Found the mint. Like where they make money. not like a breath mint that i picked up off the street and popped into my mouth. . . hahaha! Man that was a bit of a crazy thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. Bussed it home to Wollongong (another overnight 12 hour bus ride. . yippee.). Stopped in Nawra for a bit and bought myself some gelato. Except turns out Nawra is the capital for cults and cross-dressing. I personally found it to be a lovely town. . . . . . Oh yah and then we spent a good 2hours in a tiny pancake shop in Bateman's bay - man I loved being homeless/hobo-like at this point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, there are my favourite moments during the trip! Make sure to check out the pictures on facebook!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5195273777967037316-2455401838985003686?l=storiesbysa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/feeds/2455401838985003686/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5195273777967037316&amp;postID=2455401838985003686' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/2455401838985003686'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/2455401838985003686'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/2007/05/everything-is-funnier-when-youve-been.html' title='Everything is Funnier when You&apos;ve Been on a Bus for 12 Hours'/><author><name>Sa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5195273777967037316.post-2675238264995514659</id><published>2007-03-25T21:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-25T21:58:50.984-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Saskatchewan Girls Meet</title><content type='html'>On Friday night, Erin and I were catching up on some Grey's Anatomy (and flipping off Markus and Patrick for making fun of us) when Michael runs into the kitchen gasping for air.  He spit out "SALIMA! There's a Girl from CANADA here and . . .shes BROWN!".  I go to investigate and find out Sandy grew up in Moose Jaw and is working in Sydney at the moment!  It was like we'd known each other for YEARS and we ended up going to the beach the next day together. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the beach, an old Greek guy comes up to us and is standing at my feet.  Sandy and I both turn and say hello at the same time.  He asks us where we are from and we reply Canada and the guy looks really confused.  He then says "but you're not white".  Aaand. . .Awkward!  The old dude sits down in the sand and starts asking about our birthdays.  Apparently, a Leo is "Fire. . not earth!  FIRE" and all my power comes from my shoulders.  WTH?  He also launched into a story about teachers who sleep with students and how that is okay in Greece but NOT okay in Australia!  umm . yah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Went out for dinner that night to an Italian restaraunt and took Clint for his first ever taste of Gelato!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Woke up early with Sandy, Patrick, and Matt to see the sunrise.  Hopefully Sandy and I will meet up again sometime to go the Blue Mountains!  :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5195273777967037316-2675238264995514659?l=storiesbysa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/feeds/2675238264995514659/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5195273777967037316&amp;postID=2675238264995514659' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/2675238264995514659'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/2675238264995514659'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/2007/03/saskatchewan-girls-meet.html' title='Saskatchewan Girls Meet'/><author><name>Sa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5195273777967037316.post-7290336742342969012</id><published>2007-03-25T21:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-25T21:39:05.764-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh, How Much do I love my Floor</title><content type='html'>So our floor has really come together (even more than before) and we've been having a few bonding sessions lately.  Some of these include:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Group viewing of the theme songs to tv shows of childhood (Fresh Prince, Family Matters, Inspector Gadget, Smurfs, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, etc!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. We were sitting a breakfast today and the song "Best Years of Our Lives" by Baha Men came on.  Erin commented that the song was from Shrek.  And then turned to me and said "Yah I gave a guy a handjob in that movie and now Shrek is ruined for me".  Unfortunately, the way she told the story it sounded like she just reached over to the random dude beside her and there was a lot of confusion.  Handjobs have officially been renamed "giving a Shrek"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Scrubby girl nights where we put on sweats and watched Grey's Anatomy and ate ice cream!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Staying up until 2am talking about cars, dating, etc. with Michael and Markus&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5195273777967037316-7290336742342969012?l=storiesbysa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/feeds/7290336742342969012/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5195273777967037316&amp;postID=7290336742342969012' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/7290336742342969012'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/7290336742342969012'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/2007/03/oh-how-much-do-i-love-my-floor.html' title='Oh, How Much do I love my Floor'/><author><name>Sa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5195273777967037316.post-7937883422280534500</id><published>2007-03-25T20:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-25T21:33:44.546-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Voyage to Mosque!</title><content type='html'>So March 21st was the Persian New Year so I decided to set forth on a trip to Sydney to attend mosque.  The adventure began at 9 that morning as I sprinted my ass around Wollongong attempting to find a decent outfit.  Decided to get a purple wrap dress and some black flamenco styel shoes.  Anyways,  I set off for the train with a lavish farewell at home. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the way there the only weird occurrance was an old lady (when I say old I mean wearing a bonnet old) went into the toilet and there was some moaning heard.  Anyways, hop off the train in Sydney, catch a cab to a random brown girl's house (she's from Edmonton) and the cabbie kept asking me questions about if I'm a big party girl (yah.. .didnt feel very comfortable. .. ). Anyways arrive at this girls house and shes not there but her friend is (who was super cool).  So at 6:15 we walk down to the gas station where we were supposed to get picked up by a random lady.  They totally show up India Standard Time (I'm talking 6:45pm (well I guess Sa time)) and we pile into an already full car.  so flanked by hindi-speaking women in billowing saris we set off for mosque.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, when we arrive at mosque they have the weirdest system where you give your shoes to a guy and he gives you a "Shoe retrieval number" written on a poker chip.  (the guy who took my shoes was pretty cute) but still. . .thats disgusting EW! Touching everyone's shoes?!?!?!?!  some probably smell too!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Nadia and I decide to call a cab to take us to the train station and we ask a guy for the address of the mosque.  He launches into this tirade and concludes he will just have to drive us there himself.  However, we found a girl in mosque who lives near the train station and she drove me there.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The train ride back was fairly empty but there were some characters worth noting here.  The was this guy who was belting out "Let it Burn" by Usher . . . outloud. . . .to himself. ..and he didn't have an Ipod.  Then he moved onto a song with the lyrics (and I quote) "go to jaaaaiiilll.. . just go go go. . .to jaaaillll".  There was another guy who verbalized (rather loudly) his need to urinate.  And finally there was the guy who counted out over $1000 on the the train in $100 bills. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I arrived back to Wollongong at 11:30Pm and Matt and Erin picked my up with a WELCOME HOME SALIMA sign!!  (I felt so special!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5195273777967037316-7937883422280534500?l=storiesbysa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/feeds/7937883422280534500/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5195273777967037316&amp;postID=7937883422280534500' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/7937883422280534500'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/7937883422280534500'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/2007/03/voyage-to-mosque.html' title='Voyage to Mosque!'/><author><name>Sa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5195273777967037316.post-8601720660133035750</id><published>2007-03-20T14:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-20T14:28:54.950-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Random Assortment of Events</title><content type='html'>Okay this might be a bit of a random post but:&lt;br /&gt;1. My Dad called me and thought it'd be funny to say "Sa, there's something serious I need to speak to you about.  We've received a marriage proposal for you.  We will meet him and set the date shortly.  Also we have recieved a lot of hits on your profile on the wedding site (Shaadi.com) I've been filtering through those and am working on a few cases" (oh father. . .what a dry sense of humour you have)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. I was walking home and this guy stopped me and was like "did I talk to you the other day" (and to be really honest he may have. . . I mean I DO talk to a lot of people).  Anyways he asked if I was from Costa Rica and I was like "No. . . " and then hes like "Do you live by yourself?" (uhh what?!) and he continued. . ."well can I uh...talk to you sometime" So being the friendly douche I am I was like "yah sure, next time I see you we can chat" and then hes like "so give me your number" aaaaaand I said no and walked away as fast as possible.  Then I realized that he could've stealthily followed me home.   But I don't think he did :  Still creepy incident&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Went to a stand up comedy show last night with a guy backpacking through my building.  It was veeery funny and there was this Indian guy who told some HILARIOUS jokes.  Can't think of any at the moment but I remember laughing so hard I almost cried.  See comedy does bring people together. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Sat beside a random guy in my Tutorial yesterday and turns out first year Anatomy students here get to work on CADAVERS!  Like their first lab they pulled out an ARM and they had to examine the muscle tissue!  How crazy is that?!  Anyways I met this guy later at the UniBar (where the comedy show was) and we chatted for a while.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5195273777967037316-8601720660133035750?l=storiesbysa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/feeds/8601720660133035750/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5195273777967037316&amp;postID=8601720660133035750' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/8601720660133035750'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/8601720660133035750'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/2007/03/random-assortment-of-events.html' title='Random Assortment of Events'/><author><name>Sa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5195273777967037316.post-1223493198841788012</id><published>2007-03-20T14:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-20T14:14:03.446-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Congratulations!  It's a Coin!</title><content type='html'>Yup.  This is just to make sure you all know that Markus is the proud father of a 20cent coin.  (and the toilet is working just fine). . . .&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5195273777967037316-1223493198841788012?l=storiesbysa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/feeds/1223493198841788012/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5195273777967037316&amp;postID=1223493198841788012' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/1223493198841788012'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/1223493198841788012'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/2007/03/congratulations-its-coin.html' title='Congratulations!  It&apos;s a Coin!'/><author><name>Sa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5195273777967037316.post-2504047971497888293</id><published>2007-03-19T05:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-19T06:05:40.825-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Eating coins is never a good idea</title><content type='html'>This story deserved its own post.  So on St. Paddy's Day someone slipped a twenty cent coin into Markus' Guiness and as he chugged the last sip he felt the coin in the back of his throat.  Too late.  It had already gone down.  Patrick quipped "wouldn't that be funny if you shitted out two ten cent coins?!" (Bet that sounds like a much more plausible task than what Markus has coming his way soon)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately, most of us had forgotten about this incident until the two days later.  Markus was in baaaad shape all day on Monday.  He kept throwing up and his stomach was really upset.  We figured it was just a combination of the soccer and the alcohol and the lack of sleep. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Monday night, Andy (Backpacker passing through) came to my room and asked about the guy who ate the twenty cent coin.  Suddenly we all stop talking and you could see the lightbulbs go off in our heads!!  We've solved the mystery of Markus' illness. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After Erin had given Markus some Herbal stool softeners and we researched the composition of the Australian 20 cent coin ( 75% copper, 25% nickel) and some research regarding Hydrochloric Acid reactions with the metals we concluded Markus will just have to shit out the coin.  Which seems like a daunting task.  Just to give y'all an idea the 20cent coin is a little smaller than the size of a Loonie back home.  (Bet those two ten cent coins are looking like a great idea now).  This however led to a heated discussion regarding if the coin will clog the toilet (seeing as tampons can apparently do some plugging. . .the size is an issue!). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways the conversation deteriorated to jokes about "shitloads of money" and "having money coming out of your ass" and the sounds Michael (Markus' neighbour) will hear tomorrow morning.  I know you are all on the edges of your seat and I will be sure to keep y'all posted on the happenings of Markus' toilet!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5195273777967037316-2504047971497888293?l=storiesbysa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/feeds/2504047971497888293/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5195273777967037316&amp;postID=2504047971497888293' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/2504047971497888293'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/2504047971497888293'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/2007/03/eating-coins-is-never-good-idea.html' title='Eating coins is never a good idea'/><author><name>Sa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5195273777967037316.post-8977164302676000443</id><published>2007-03-19T05:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-19T05:54:48.494-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The aftermath of St. Paddy's</title><content type='html'>After the chaos our kitchen looked like a trashy pub after closing!  There were bottles EVERYWHERE, the floor was so sticky you could potentially get stuck, there was a raunchy smell that we could NOT identify.  Also someone had turned the gas on the stove and hadn't turned it off so there was that smell as well!!!!!!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At 7:30 the next morning a group of people had signed up for a soccer tournament at another residence.  Unfortunately, half of the Keiraview team couldn't get out of bed.  The halls rang with screams of "I threw up last night, LEAVE ME ALONE", many people didn't even stir.  I was woken up and almost had to go but I managed to get Matt to go instead of me.  Anyways, turns out the tournament was against almost professional teams.   Our troopers took quite the beating and Patrick may have a broken nose after a rather horrible knee to the face.  Playing soccer on hangovers is apparently a terrible idea. . . jeez who would've thought. . . .&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5195273777967037316-8977164302676000443?l=storiesbysa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/feeds/8977164302676000443/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5195273777967037316&amp;postID=8977164302676000443' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/8977164302676000443'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/8977164302676000443'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/2007/03/aftermath-of-st-paddys.html' title='The aftermath of St. Paddy&apos;s'/><author><name>Sa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5195273777967037316.post-8973091004319069494</id><published>2007-03-19T05:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-19T05:48:00.941-07:00</updated><title type='text'>St. Paddy's Day Chaos!</title><content type='html'>St. Patrick's Day . . . a day for drunken fun and we definately had some crazy shit go down on our floor!  At around 6pm a club literally moved to my kitchen.  We had blasting music, glasses smashing, dancing, yelling, chugging the whole bit.  I actually stepped out for a bit and when I got back at 8pm I was promptly mobbed by a group of rather happy people decked out in green paraphenalia! I recieved a backrub, kisses, hugs, etc.  Michael was especially in a bad way having been kicked out of the bar already (he passed out while waiting for his fish and chips and then was physically escorted to the door).  At around 8pm the party moved to the Irish pub. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At around 1am I got back to my kitchen to find 4 random people with Carlye and Markus sitting around getting ready to play beer-pong.  Markus tried to explain to me why they were there but I'm still unclear as to who they were and what the hell they were doing in our kitchen.  Anyways, a few minutes later Erin strolls in with a Kebab and plops herself down at the table and says definately "It's my table and I'm eating here".  So the game gets halted and we all watched as she chowed down her food.  The festitivities continued until around 3am :) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Michael ended up across town in the apartment of two random girls.  No one knew where he was until midday the next day. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Patrick stayed the longest at the Irish pub where he was hit on by a 46 year old lady with an 18 year old daughter.  . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, the Irish!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5195273777967037316-8973091004319069494?l=storiesbysa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/feeds/8973091004319069494/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5195273777967037316&amp;postID=8973091004319069494' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/8973091004319069494'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/8973091004319069494'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/2007/03/st-paddys-day-chaos.html' title='St. Paddy&apos;s Day Chaos!'/><author><name>Sa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5195273777967037316.post-3167018262546387822</id><published>2007-03-18T23:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-18T23:27:00.862-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Guys Night!</title><content type='html'>Friday night again. . . We were sort of bored so Patrick, Markus and I went out to the schoolyard and tossed around a football until it was so dark we couldn't see the football until it was about 1 foot from our faces. NOT the safest activity for me with my lack of coordination. . . but I lived and for the record Patrick was impressed with my ability to toss the pigskin!  :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways later that night we got to talking and it came out that I'm not into Star Wars so Patrick, Matt, Anthony, and Nic decided to show me the third episode of the series.  Anyways watching that movie for 2.5 hours was rather painful so in a bit Patrick and I were up to our usual goofing off and some of the memorable moments included:&lt;br /&gt;1. Naming C3PO --&gt; "Oscar" because he looks like the statue from the Oscar Awards&lt;br /&gt;2. Renaming Count Duku --&gt; Count Sudoku (which led us to invent the character Captain Crossword and Major Wordsearch)&lt;br /&gt;3.  Yoda in bed: "Protection: I must get"&lt;br /&gt;4.  "I wanna see YOUR lightsabre"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All in all it was a total guys night . . . Oh and then on Sunday we downloaded hockey fights and watched them on YouTube.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5195273777967037316-3167018262546387822?l=storiesbysa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/feeds/3167018262546387822/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5195273777967037316&amp;postID=3167018262546387822' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/3167018262546387822'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/3167018262546387822'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/2007/03/guys-night.html' title='Guys Night!'/><author><name>Sa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5195273777967037316.post-3182808544814401106</id><published>2007-03-13T03:32:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-13T03:32:49.645-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sunrise</title><content type='html'>On Sunday Patrick and I woke up early and went to see the sunrise.  It was really gorgeous (see pictures of Wollongong).  We're going to try to go every Sunday morning&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5195273777967037316-3182808544814401106?l=storiesbysa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/feeds/3182808544814401106/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5195273777967037316&amp;postID=3182808544814401106' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/3182808544814401106'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/3182808544814401106'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/2007/03/sunrise.html' title='Sunrise'/><author><name>Sa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5195273777967037316.post-1114040234017372770</id><published>2007-03-13T03:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-13T03:32:02.680-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Some Straight/Gay Fun on Floor 1</title><content type='html'>Anyways so tonight we had some weird shit go down on our floor.  Michael randomly walked up behind Markus and started humping him asking for a hug.  Please note both are straight. .or supposedly straight.  Markus then lovingly scooped Michael into his arms and carried him over to the table.  They looked deep into each other’s eyes and Patrick and I wondered if we should give them some time alone.  Michael abruptly stood up and tore down the hallway to Erin’s room where he cried for help.  Soon a crowd gathered to witness the commotion.  Nic entered and commented that the bad touching could escalate further.  Michael quipped back “I’m already escalating”.  At this point I was in tears from laughing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought the night was over at that point but no. . .the fun continued.  Later in my room Michael announced his need for a cold shower and invited Markus and Matt to join him.  At this point Erin strolls out of her room and announces “woah guys, I just found a whole lot of porn on my computer”.  She had borrowed her laptop from her brother before leaving and he apparently did not delete is private stash.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5195273777967037316-1114040234017372770?l=storiesbysa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/feeds/1114040234017372770/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5195273777967037316&amp;postID=1114040234017372770' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/1114040234017372770'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/1114040234017372770'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/2007/03/some-straightgay-fun-on-floor-1.html' title='Some Straight/Gay Fun on Floor 1'/><author><name>Sa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5195273777967037316.post-6375113816084989154</id><published>2007-03-13T03:30:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-13T03:30:51.162-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Nic!</title><content type='html'>Where do I start on this one?  I promised Nic I’d write about him on here so I’m going to try to summarize this guy into words – however, Nic, you are probably the hardest person to describe in the world!!&lt;br /&gt;Nic is … flamboyantly gay&lt;br /&gt;Nic is . . . able to identify a gay guy by looking at a picture&lt;br /&gt;Nic is. . .  .a sex goddess&lt;br /&gt;Nic is. . . .able to do a booty shimmy that could make any girl hang her head in shame (it’s like Shakira quality)&lt;br /&gt;Nic is. . . . going to dress up as Beyonce one day when we go out - you know you want to, Nic!&lt;br /&gt;Nic is. . . from Indonesia and is a philosopher&lt;br /&gt;Nic is. . . always ready with a (good) story to tell you!! Although at times those stories can ruin some of your favourite meals (cough.  . . pides look like limp dicks when reheated. . .cough)&lt;br /&gt;Nic is. . . fascinated by tampon applicators&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And there are plenty more where that came from.  Nic, anything to add?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5195273777967037316-6375113816084989154?l=storiesbysa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/feeds/6375113816084989154/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5195273777967037316&amp;postID=6375113816084989154' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/6375113816084989154'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/6375113816084989154'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/2007/03/nic.html' title='Nic!'/><author><name>Sa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5195273777967037316.post-8636198562534218435</id><published>2007-03-13T03:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-13T03:30:05.223-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Yes, I actually study here too!</title><content type='html'>Uni here is really different than at the UofA.  The professors are so enthusiastic I love going to lectures.  Also almost every other lecture is a guest lecture (and they bring in amazing people to talk).  Also they don’t really have exams here.  We write papers or do practical assignments (like I get to do a reading assessment on a child with a potential reading disability).  There is a strong emphasis on group work as well and up to 60% of our grades are determined by group efforts.  It’s nice because I get to meet/work with a wide variety of people.  It’s a really different feel to the classes because you are there to learn but you absorb through experience and just listening without worrying about memorizing details and stressing about exams.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5195273777967037316-8636198562534218435?l=storiesbysa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/feeds/8636198562534218435/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5195273777967037316&amp;postID=8636198562534218435' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/8636198562534218435'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/8636198562534218435'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/2007/03/yes-i-actually-study-here-too.html' title='Yes, I actually study here too!'/><author><name>Sa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5195273777967037316.post-9084454399003966442</id><published>2007-03-13T03:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-13T03:29:41.485-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fob Dinner! complete with finger nails</title><content type='html'>So there is a dude here who is GORGEOUS hot who sells coffee by the train station from the back of his van.  Anyways, Erin is friends with him and tonight Erin, Patrick (her boyfriend), Kat, Elena, and Adam (smoking hot), and I went out for dinner at an Indian restaurant.  The food was really good until Adam found a finger nail in his butter chicken. .EEEEEEWWWW!!  Anyways I’ll see him again on Tuesday at 8:30am! Maybe I’ll start drinking coffee again :p  Past that we went to the brewery and back home to play poker and some other card games. Then Nic and I watched some Eddie Murphy live and I chatted with Michael until 1am.  Patrick, Nic and I are going to see the sunrise tomorrow morning hopefully.  5am!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5195273777967037316-9084454399003966442?l=storiesbysa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/feeds/9084454399003966442/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5195273777967037316&amp;postID=9084454399003966442' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/9084454399003966442'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/9084454399003966442'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/2007/03/fob-dinner-complete-with-finger-nails.html' title='Fob Dinner! complete with finger nails'/><author><name>Sa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5195273777967037316.post-8547156042213136055</id><published>2007-03-13T03:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-13T03:27:35.219-07:00</updated><title type='text'>UoW Tape Toss Team</title><content type='html'>Patrick and I were bored out of our minds on Friday afternoon so we just started tossing a roll of tape back and forth in my room.  This turned into a three-man game when Matt joined.  Soon Michael and Markus were jammed into my room and the three of us were tossing for a good hour and a half.   Then we decided to head out to the front steps to see if anyone else wanted in.  Eventually me and Patrick goofing around wound up being a community bonding session and a LOT of people got into the whole Tape-Toss game.  Three hours later, we decided to call it quits and go get some food because we were starving.  We’re thinking of starting up a Tape-Toss club at Uni haha!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5195273777967037316-8547156042213136055?l=storiesbysa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/feeds/8547156042213136055/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5195273777967037316&amp;postID=8547156042213136055' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/8547156042213136055'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/8547156042213136055'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/2007/03/uow-tape-toss-team.html' title='UoW Tape Toss Team'/><author><name>Sa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5195273777967037316.post-6822447650227996483</id><published>2007-03-13T03:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-13T03:26:44.688-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ladies, if you ever come to Australia you have to know this stuff</title><content type='html'>Anyways so here the whole feminine hygiene is a little different.  A group of us have had many discussions regarding this and some of these have been downright hilarious so I feel as though I should pass them along to the masses. &lt;br /&gt;a)      Tampons are not to be flushed here.  Erin (Australian girl) was totally blown away by the fact that tampons can be biodegradeable and we just flush em.  Here you are supposed to wrap it in toilet paper&lt;br /&gt;b)      Kat (Girl from Indiana) has demonstrated on many occasions how after removing a tampon, catching a dangling tampon to wrap in toilet paper is quite the feat.&lt;br /&gt;c)      They have flushable pantyliners here.&lt;br /&gt;d)      The pantyliners I bought have trivia on the backing.  Some of the facts that I have read up on in the loo include:&lt;br /&gt;a.       48 teaspoons make up a cup&lt;br /&gt;b.      Argentineans eat more meat than any other nation in the world&lt;br /&gt;c.       The largest eggs in the world are laid by sharks&lt;br /&gt;e)      Nic and Erin (Aus) were truly astonished by the magic of tampon applicators.  Apparently those are rare here.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5195273777967037316-6822447650227996483?l=storiesbysa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/feeds/6822447650227996483/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5195273777967037316&amp;postID=6822447650227996483' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/6822447650227996483'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/6822447650227996483'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/2007/03/ladies-if-you-ever-come-to-australia.html' title='Ladies, if you ever come to Australia you have to know this stuff'/><author><name>Sa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5195273777967037316.post-6339010321962054854</id><published>2007-03-13T03:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-13T03:25:30.399-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mardi Gras. . . some gay kisses to be had</title><content type='html'>So this weekend we headed down to Sydney to see the Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras Parade.  So we’re watching this eccentric parade (check out the pictures) and theres this group of old men in their speedos skipping down the street with a rainbow parachute.  Anyway this old guy hands his parachute to the other guy and beelines straight for me.  I’m like..uhh. . .anyways he goes to kiss me on the mouth but I turned my face so he got my cheek.  Yup. . . I was kissed by a gay old dude in a speedo at Mardi Gras.  I showered as soon as I got home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh and I shut Patrick’s head in a freezer that night at the Servo (gas station).  We were getting ice cream at like 3am at the gas station (our train just got in) and I turned away to close the freezer door and he just stuck his head into the freezer to read a package or something.  Anyways long story short, he doesn’t go into the freezer when I’m around anymore.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5195273777967037316-6339010321962054854?l=storiesbysa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/feeds/6339010321962054854/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5195273777967037316&amp;postID=6339010321962054854' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/6339010321962054854'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/6339010321962054854'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/2007/03/mardi-gras-some-gay-kisses-to-be-had.html' title='Mardi Gras. . . some gay kisses to be had'/><author><name>Sa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5195273777967037316.post-1771615587025585363</id><published>2007-03-13T03:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-13T03:24:29.625-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Poker Night</title><content type='html'>We had a poker night in our kitchen one evening because we had nothing better to do.  I totally cleaned out two guys in the first round because of a FULL HOUSE, BABY!! (I thought my poker teachers back home would like to know about that one)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We played again and Erin and I finished second!  WOO! Girls got game now . . watch out guys!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5195273777967037316-1771615587025585363?l=storiesbysa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/feeds/1771615587025585363/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5195273777967037316&amp;postID=1771615587025585363' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/1771615587025585363'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/1771615587025585363'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/2007/03/poker-night.html' title='Poker Night'/><author><name>Sa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5195273777967037316.post-8012478679336754774</id><published>2007-03-13T03:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-13T05:56:23.523-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Out we go Again</title><content type='html'>Went out again last night (Friday)! We started off at the North Gong Hotel where we did some salsa for 2hours. There was a lesson but we were a little late because of a fire alarm going off in our building. SO! We get there and everyone already knows what the hell they are doing. Good thing Nic and George totally can dance so they basically taught us! It was literally a sweaty cesspool BUT there were some Mexican guys there who could shake it who we are going to try to get to dance with us next time. In the meantime we are definitely going to take some classes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we headed over to Castros (the Gay Bar) again. Well this time at least we had two gay people (Nic and Erin). So this creepy Italian guy (Dante) who I spoke to once while he lived here comes up to me and is like “Hey this is my friend from Australia!” and totally gets me talking to this really quite good looking surfer dude (however, that mullet has got to go. . .)! And we were flirting a little and whatever and then I went to dance and he didn’t want to so we split off…BUT the moral of the story: SALIMA GOT HIT ON IN A GAY BAR BY A STRAIGHT GUY!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways the night continued and we headed down to another bar (the Harp) where we danced for a bit and hung out in the Karaoke part.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OH! Over here they have the best freaking food. It’s called a Pide which is like mashed curried potatoes with some veggies rolled into bread with cheese. It’s my favorite food so we totally grabbed one of those before heading home. At home we hung out in the kitchen for a bit and then a few people came and chilled in my room until 3am!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5195273777967037316-8012478679336754774?l=storiesbysa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/feeds/8012478679336754774/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5195273777967037316&amp;postID=8012478679336754774' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/8012478679336754774'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/8012478679336754774'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/2007/03/out-we-go-again.html' title='Out we go Again'/><author><name>Sa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5195273777967037316.post-7827022247849091582</id><published>2007-03-13T03:21:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-13T03:22:05.826-07:00</updated><title type='text'>First real night out in Wollongong</title><content type='html'>So apparently here Wednesday night is student night out so we went to a few bars. Eventually we ended up at the local gay bar where we got a guy to buy our straight friend Patrick a drink and say it was from someone at the bar :D  I laughed so freaking hard. Got home at 1am . . . aaaand that 930am class just about killed me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5195273777967037316-7827022247849091582?l=storiesbysa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/feeds/7827022247849091582/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5195273777967037316&amp;postID=7827022247849091582' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/7827022247849091582'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/7827022247849091582'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/2007/03/first-real-night-out-in-wollongong.html' title='First real night out in Wollongong'/><author><name>Sa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5195273777967037316.post-2114924378447215976</id><published>2007-03-13T03:21:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-13T03:21:17.367-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Boy Adventures</title><content type='html'>I am just going to declare right now that as of February 28, 2007 I, Salima Suleman, am still single.  But that’s not saying a whole lot. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I have discovered I have a newfound power over the opposite sex here! The first time I realized something was different here I was at the muffin shop at the mall.  I wanted a low-fat banana muffin but they didn’t have any.  So the guy working there (about 30 and married but okay looking) offered to make me whatever muffins I want whenever (but JUST for me). So I’m like great!  I go in the next day and Voila!  My muffins are there.  So I stopped by another day and there’s this boy working (16yrs old) and he recognizes me.  Anyways he totally custom makes me low-fat banana chocolate chip muffins. Plus he gave me a free muffin and stamped my card so I get more free muffins and coffee.  My new Nickname at the res is the “muffin slut”!  I swear I was just being friendly!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OH!  Yesterday in one of my classes I sat beside a fireman from Sydney – damn he was good to look at :p We were chatting he apparently is engaged to a girl in Canada!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5195273777967037316-2114924378447215976?l=storiesbysa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/feeds/2114924378447215976/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5195273777967037316&amp;postID=2114924378447215976' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/2114924378447215976'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/2114924378447215976'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/2007/03/boy-adventures.html' title='Boy Adventures'/><author><name>Sa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5195273777967037316.post-5705611368673539821</id><published>2007-03-13T03:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-13T03:20:08.765-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Stripper Clarification</title><content type='html'>So I’m sure you all are curious about this stripper roommate of mine so here y’all go. So my first room was totally international with an Italian, a German, a Japanese girl and me.  I was the only one with English as my first language.  Anyways within my first 5 minutes of getting into the room the Italian was butt naked and wandering around the room and showing me her hickeys from the night before.  Now let me clear one thing up here.  Many people believed she was a man at one point in her life.  She has admitted to having many surgeries (i.e. boob job, lips, lipo, etc) so according to some folk on the tour a sex change would just be another surgery.  She did have a scar on her adams apple. Anyways so that first night she got wasted and wandered into the room at like 2am strips naked and proceeds to snore like a trucker.  At this point I wondered what the hell I was doing. Anyways she has made some very memorable quotes such as:&lt;br /&gt;“Dis ‘eart is for my boyfriend, but da pussy is for de everyone” &lt;br /&gt;“Italian women love da sex, shopping and food”&lt;br /&gt;“No Fuck! Lot of petting but no fuck.”&lt;br /&gt;She went snorkeling and lost her top and bottom of her bikini and said “and den everyone take da photos from da boat.  Oh! Da photos! So bad girl”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In all honesty she was hilarious and always had a good story to tell (like the night she slept with 9 guys with 3 of her friends).  She just…scared me a bit. Like when she felt up another girls boobs because they were soft.  She also would go missing for random nights.  She met a drug dealer and spent two nights and an entire day smoking weed and having sex.  Except she said she couldn’t understand a word he said.  Oh dear.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5195273777967037316-5705611368673539821?l=storiesbysa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/feeds/5705611368673539821/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5195273777967037316&amp;postID=5705611368673539821' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/5705611368673539821'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/5705611368673539821'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/2007/03/stripper-clarification.html' title='The Stripper Clarification'/><author><name>Sa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5195273777967037316.post-8702287300825475086</id><published>2007-02-17T19:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-17T19:33:21.176-08:00</updated><title type='text'>i'm horrible at this updating business!</title><content type='html'>Hey folks!! I know you are all dying for stories but heres the deal.  I dont have internet in my room and I hate paying $3/hour to use the internet.  So what I'm doing is typing up the stories on my laptop and when I get internet in my room (Early March) I will post all the good stories and you guys can read one a day for a while :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But as a quick update! I moved in my res a couple of days ago.  Having a really good time - The boys on my floor are like master chefs so I have food ALL the time :)  I went for a run on the beach yesterday morning and up to the lighthouse. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still single - but I have a hook up waiting for my in Alaska :p (apparently the men to women ratio there is like 10:1 so all the guys are super gentlemen -- so ladies. . pack your bags we're going to Alaska!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Contiki tour was amazing - so many detailed stories but the highlight was definately when I WENT SKYDIVING! There is a good tale of the skydive but I'll post it later :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take care everyone! Play nice!  Behave!  Miss you so much!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5195273777967037316-8702287300825475086?l=storiesbysa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/feeds/8702287300825475086/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5195273777967037316&amp;postID=8702287300825475086' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/8702287300825475086'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/8702287300825475086'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/2007/02/im-horrible-at-this-updating-business.html' title='i&apos;m horrible at this updating business!'/><author><name>Sa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5195273777967037316.post-3115672440461480542</id><published>2007-02-03T21:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-03T21:41:17.756-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Roommate is a Stripper</title><content type='html'>We finally left Cairns this morning and are heading to go sailing tomorrow!  Yaay&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good story:  My Italian Roommate - is a "dancer" in nightclubs (i.e. a stripper) that explains an awful lot.  She doesnt like clothes!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways I gotta run!  Miss everyone a lot!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5195273777967037316-3115672440461480542?l=storiesbysa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/feeds/3115672440461480542/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5195273777967037316&amp;postID=3115672440461480542' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/3115672440461480542'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/3115672440461480542'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/2007/02/my-roommate-is-stripper.html' title='My Roommate is a Stripper'/><author><name>Sa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5195273777967037316.post-4221207383459370917</id><published>2007-02-02T11:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-02T11:45:45.480-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Australia, Baby! I made it!</title><content type='html'>Hey!! I made it to Aus a couple of days ago and it is HOT!   Having fun with that -29, guys??  Im dealing with 33 with intense humidity!  I have 41 seconds so I'll just tell y'all a highlight.  On my plane trip from Sydney to Cairns I totally was on the plane with the entire basketball team (the Razorbacks) from New South Wales (province).  I totally played poker with them! :)  Good times.  The rest of the trip has been beyond random!  So many good stories. . but im too cheap to pay for internet! More updates later! :D&lt;br /&gt;Love&lt;br /&gt;Sa&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5195273777967037316-4221207383459370917?l=storiesbysa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/feeds/4221207383459370917/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5195273777967037316&amp;postID=4221207383459370917' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/4221207383459370917'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/4221207383459370917'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/2007/02/australia-baby-i-made-it.html' title='Australia, Baby! I made it!'/><author><name>Sa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5195273777967037316.post-7068100914321865268</id><published>2007-01-29T19:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-29T19:29:11.632-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Let's Try This Again - Departure Part II</title><content type='html'>After sitting in SUB for 5 hours today I managed to get everything sorted out!  I will be leaving tomorrow (Jan 30) at 3:30pm on Air Canada (all the way to Sydney).  I'll only be 1.5 days late for my tour and I still get to go Yatchting (yes, you prounounce the "t" but not the "ch").  Everything seems to be working out now - Phew! I feel like I can to anything now!   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So hopefully this is my last post before I actually leave!  Take care everyone! Behave!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5195273777967037316-7068100914321865268?l=storiesbysa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/feeds/7068100914321865268/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5195273777967037316&amp;postID=7068100914321865268' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/7068100914321865268'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/7068100914321865268'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/2007/01/lets-try-this-again-departure-part-ii.html' title='Let&apos;s Try This Again - Departure Part II'/><author><name>Sa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5195273777967037316.post-7000108568900782118</id><published>2007-01-28T12:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-28T13:12:10.828-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Adventures in Edmonton - Yup I'm still here</title><content type='html'>Its 2pm on Sunday. . .I was supposed to leave at 8am today. . . Yup.  I'm still in Edmonton.  My flight to LA was cancelled because of a snowstorm in Toronto (the plane we were using was grounded there), Vancouver had fog so I couldn't be rerouted through there, all the Jazz planes' computers broke, aaaand Air Singapore was closed so I couldn't switch my ticket to a later flight today (if I could make it down to LA).  Essentially. . im really really screwed.  I'm probably not going on my contiki tour (I'm going to be too late to meet up with everyone) and I have no place to live utnil February 14.  Excellent.  I'll be at my travel agents at 9am tomorrow with my angry face on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The day wasn't all that bad though.  There were some highlights - I did see the hottie at the airport.  Yes, the hottie ("Do you play chess" Hottie).  And there was a guy there who looked exactly like Burke from Grey's with an oddly shaped package. . . get yer minds outta the gutter - his baggage. . . . k yah I'm never going to make this clean so I'm going to stop while I'm ahead.  I also made friends with a family going to Hawaii (the dad flossed his teeth in the line - which was kinda gross but I understand the need to floss), a guy who hates Calgary airport and much prefers Vancouver, the lady who takes care of people whose flights get cancelled called me a sweetheart (we gave her chocolate for all her hard work) and a couple who also are trying to get to Sydney for a cruise.  One lady also threw a tantrum (which was kinda scary and yet funny at the same time) and the lady behind me was all upset because she had to fly coach not first class and her husband was wearing silk pj bottoms which I found weird. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also ate a burger at 8am (something I had never done before). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways I think I'm going to take a nap - its been a very long day. .and I slept for exactly 1hour last night because of my nerves.  I'll keep this updated with what's going on.  Maybe we can have another going away party! Karaoke, anyone?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5195273777967037316-7000108568900782118?l=storiesbysa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/feeds/7000108568900782118/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5195273777967037316&amp;postID=7000108568900782118' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/7000108568900782118'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/7000108568900782118'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/2007/01/adventures-in-edmonton-yup-im-still.html' title='Adventures in Edmonton - Yup I&apos;m still here'/><author><name>Sa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5195273777967037316.post-9013992573581721931</id><published>2007-01-27T10:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-27T10:54:04.822-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Last Day in Canada</title><content type='html'>Today is my last day in Canada!  So I thought I'd remind you all to play fair and be good while I'm gone.  I ain't raising no babies when I return.  In my honor I challenge every single one of you to talk to at least one random while I'm gone (and I want to hear all about it).  Don't miss me too much - and if you do miss me just crank Shakira or Garth Brooks and that feeling will shortly pass.  Please e-mail/post on the blog and I will be doing the same! :) I'm going to miss everyone!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5195273777967037316-9013992573581721931?l=storiesbysa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/feeds/9013992573581721931/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5195273777967037316&amp;postID=9013992573581721931' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/9013992573581721931'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/9013992573581721931'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/2007/01/my-last-day-in-canada.html' title='My Last Day in Canada'/><author><name>Sa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5195273777967037316.post-8444509190835600888</id><published>2007-01-27T00:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-27T00:41:25.496-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My shows!</title><content type='html'>Okay. . . so while I'm gone I expect all y'all to be watching my shows for me and keeping me very much up to date.  So if you have any news regarding Grey's, Prison Break, House or ANTM please let me know here!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5195273777967037316-8444509190835600888?l=storiesbysa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/feeds/8444509190835600888/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5195273777967037316&amp;postID=8444509190835600888' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/8444509190835600888'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/8444509190835600888'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/2007/01/my-shows.html' title='My shows!'/><author><name>Sa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5195273777967037316.post-3726626659656966139</id><published>2007-01-22T22:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-22T22:05:52.858-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Welcome!</title><content type='html'>Hello Folks! So this is where I'll be posting all my amazing stories from my Down Under Adventures!   Enjoy!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5195273777967037316-3726626659656966139?l=storiesbysa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/feeds/3726626659656966139/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5195273777967037316&amp;postID=3726626659656966139' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/3726626659656966139'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195273777967037316/posts/default/3726626659656966139'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://storiesbysa.blogspot.com/2007/01/welcome.html' title='Welcome!'/><author><name>Sa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry></feed>
