I Hang My Head in Bad Blogging Shame (Or, It's a List Entry)

First a housekeeping note ... the Fiesta Dip was a HUGE success. I got the recipe here, in case you want to try it. I was feeling a little badly about saying that Australians don't know much about Tex-Mex, but a true blue Sydneysider confirmed that she did not know any Mexican restaurants to recommend, so I felt less snobbish. I am also happy to report that the fellow American in attendance also loved it, so you can consider it sealed with international approval. We had a ton left over, so we cooked some meat with taco sauce and put it together with the dip in tortillas to make delicious burritos for the rest of the weekend.

Now, from the meat on my tortilla to the meat of this entry (that's called a segue - it is a hallmark of good writing. Take note!)

Remember that series I did over the summer called "It's the Little Things" about how the cultural adjustment between the U.S. and Australia is made up of a lot of little differences that add up to a unique culture? If not, you can just click on the "little things" tag on the side to see all the important issues I discussed (this is me driving traffic on my website by referring you to more pages, hence upping the amount of time that you spend here).

Well, this entry may as well be called "It's the Little Teeny Tiny Almost Indiscernible Things." Partner-in-Crime and I had a rather laid back weekend, and as I looked back on it, it strikes me that there were a handful of events that provoked the most minor tremors of culture shock - the kind that we meet almost daily:

1. Cell phones and pumping gas (tsk, tsk, tsk): We stopped at a gas (petrol) station and Partner-in-Crime was multi-tasking, as is his perpetual habit. He was pumping and making some appointment or other on the phone as the same time. Suddenly, the pump stopped, but P-i-C knew that the tank was not full. He went into the station to ask what had happened, and the attendant told him, "I turned it off."

"Why?"

"Because you were talking on your phone. You are not allowed to talk and pump at the same time."

P-i-C asked where it said that, and the attendant told him that it was posted right on the pump. And, sure enough, it was.

(Pictures! Everyone likes pictures more than words, even when they are completely slanted and cropped to within an inch of their lives like this one).

2. Aluminum: It is a good thing that I'd been warned that Australians have a different way of saying "aluminum" because I would have been completely lost when P-i-C's boss started talking about someone mining and all-oo-min-ee-um. For our edification (mine and yours - you're welcome), I looked up aluminum vs. aluminium, and found this article. What a mess you've created, Sir David Humprhey!

3. Crisco: The fellow American guest at the party at P-i-C's boss's house brought good old fashioned chocolate chip cookies for everyone. She told me, because she knew I'd appreciate it, "I even used Crisco!"

"What is Crisco?" asked one of the Australian guests.

Fellow American provided an impressive definition of Crisco, explaining its composition and virtues, as compared to lard. It struck me as funny, as I'd never before thought of Crisco as an American product. Apparently, it is quite expensive here, since it is a rarity.

4. Movie Theatre: We normally see movies at this wonderful art house theatre (yes, la-di-da for us) that shows movies from all over the world, and is aesthetically reminiscent of American movie theatres (well, the wine/popcorn combo is a little different/hilarious, but the actual theatres look just the same). And, the prices are just slightly above what I'd typically pay in the States. This weekend, however, we decided to see Wall Steet (which I suggest you skip, if you loved the first one like I did), which meant that we went to the "real" multi-plex movie theatre.

First difference was the ticket price: $20.50. P-i-C was non-plussed, as his philosophy is that you just double the price of everything here, as compared to at home, so by his reasoning, this was a deal.

Second difference was that we were asked, when buying our tickets, where we wanted to sit. Unsure how to answer, and already running late, we just asked for whatever seats were best, but I suppose that we could have said, "middle towards the back" or "slightly to the right and on the 3rd row." In any case, our seats were assigned.

Third difference was the hugeness of the theatre, which can be accounted for by the fact that the seats themselves are enormous. Think your dad's Lazy Boy big. Each one had a significant arm rest with a little table/cup holder. While there were people sitting next to us, our personal space was not invaded at all, and it seemed like they were far away. So, I have to hand it to the Australians that, while their ticket prices are out of control, at least they attempt to provide an experience that makes it worth our while to pay so much.

(You may have noticed that this was a list within a list. Double bad blogging).

5. In bed: Partner-in-Crime pointed out that there does not seem to be a Fortune Cookie Culture here. Meaning that when you eat Chinese, you don't typically end your meal with a stale cookie and a bit of cliche wisdom or good tidings. I told him I thought that was very sad because the culture must be missing out on all the possibilities to comeback with, "in bed," which is predicated upon Fortune Cookie Culture. I mean, really, when is "in bed," sprinkled wisely and sparingly into casual conversation, ever not funny? At least they have The Office here, so they still have access to "That's what she said."

(Yes, I did create a "that's what she said" tag. And that, my friends, is blogging goodness).