"Don't presume people are ignorant!"

I have a simple question for you. Does assuming someone doesn't know something in turn assuming that they are ignorant? I guess the word "ignorant" has negative connotations these days; people associate it with being stupid or dumb or dense or whatever, but the literal definition is that someone just doesn't know something. So I guess my question is kinda moot and talks in circles, &c.

In the words of a wonderful actress, "Let's see if I can make it easier." If you were American, and asked me where I was from, and I said "I'm from the southern part of Australia", would you be offended and think I was claiming that you are ignorant? Because I totally encountered this situation at Subway the other day.

I'm serving a couple guys, cutting their bread and putting the meat on their sandwiches. They're nice guys, very friendly, a tad rough about the edges, but very friendly and funny. One of them asked where in Australia I was from. I said, "I'm from the southern part of Australia."

There was another guy at the counter paying for his purchases, and upon hearing that he turned to me with a look of incredulation (is so a word) on his face, and said, "Do you know how big the southern part of Australia is?!?"

My first thought was, "Wait, is this a trick question?" To him, I good-naturedly replied, "Well I lived in Australia for the first 23 years of my life, so yes," and he said, "But that doesn't narrow it down at all! To say you're just from the southern part of Australia is like saying you're from the southern part of the US!" By now I'm thinking, "Dude, chill out." To him, I replied, "Well yeah, but the vast majority of people I encounter don't know where any place in Australia is, except Sydney." And then his face got more serious and intense and he says, "Don't presume that people are ignorant. Don't presume we're ignorant!" By this point, my coworker and the two friendly guys were looking like "what the hell", and Crazy Guy then challenges me: "Tell me where you're from." I said, "I'm from the south-east of South Australia."

Sadly, he knew exactly the area I named. He replied, "Oh nice, good wine country down there." Don't you just hate it when annoying and possibly crazy people are right? I grinned and said, "Yes that's right," and he said, "See? Don't presume people are ignorant!"

This was getting old fast, so I said, "But when I'm having to tell my life story ten times a day, in an industry where I hardly get any time to speak with anyone, it's much easier to simplify." Apparently that's a sucky reason, because Crazy Guy kept going on about how wrong it is to presume ignorance in people.

Okay. Crazy Guy? You're crazy, firstly. No doubt there. Secondly, have you ever lived with an "affliction" that people immediately notice when you open your mouth? Have you ever had people stare an extra second longer at you when they hear you talk? Have you ever had people say, "Oh I love your accent!" or "I could just listen to you talk all day long!" or, even worse, "Ooh say something!"? Have you ever had people say, "Oh my cousin lives in Perth, Sarah Smith?" What, am I meant to know her?!?!

It just really bugged me. Aside from the reasons I listed just now, I really don't think I was assuming ignorance. I really was just trying to simplify. For the most part, people are chuffed to know I'm from somewhere that isn't America. If I said, "Oh yeah, I grew up in Keith, moved to Adelaide for uni, then lived in Bordertown for awhile," it's not going to clear it up for them.

I'm not saying I don't want people to learn about things, or that I shouldn't try and give people more information. But it's not an ideal location. People who go to Subway are usually in the store for three minutes tops. It's fast food; they want to get going fast. Plus, they're the customer - it's not about me, it's about them. If they ask me questions, I'll answer them simply and politely. But if someone says, "How did you end up in Minnesota?" I'm not going to go into intricate details about our courtship, marriage, visa woes, etc. Why the hell would I want to share stuff like that with a stranger who just put mayonnaise on a meatball sub, for crying out loud?*

I don't presume ignorance in a bad way. If people in the States don't know anything about Australia, well that's just how it is. And it works in reverse. I bet the vast majority of Australians don't know where half of the US states are. Heck, until I met Aaron, I didn't know that LA and NYC were on opposite coasts. But don't misunderstand me. I'm not saying this is necessarily a sign of the bad kind of ignorance. Both Australians and Americans seem to have this inwardly-facing sense of the world. "Australians are best at everything." "America rules the world!" It's not up to me to say one or the other country is right or wrong or supreme leader of the universe. I'm just saying, not knowing something about a country that's on the other side of the world is pretty common. It's literally ignorance, I suppose. But my blanket statement of "I'm from the southern part of Australia" was not said because I thought people were dumb.

Crazy Guy, you are the stupidest link. Buh-bye.

A post of Christmas past, and Christmas future.

It seems we are laying tentative plans to fly to Australia for Christmas 2009! Maybe we'd be able to afford it more comfortably for, say, Christmas 2012, but until she's two years old, Adelaide can fly for free. So we're going to take advantage of this wonderful thing.

It is, you see, one of the only wonderful things left about flying.

I don't know if they've done this over in Australia, but some of the domestic airlines here (United Airlines is one of them) have started to charge for every checked bag. It used to be you could get two bags checked at no charge, but now every single bag you check will cost you a sweet US$15. I guess it will mean people will try to pack lighter, therefore reducing fuel consumption or something, I guess. But you know who is going to be negatively impacted by this most? Families. If we each pack one bag, that's $45. If I take a stroller, that takes it to $60.

Not only THAT, but I've also heard today on CNN that they are going to be more strict about carry-ons. Well, that's great. Not only are the airlines going to charge us for checked luggage, but on top of that they're going to go all carry-on-Nazi on us. Fantastic.

I'm not saying airlines can't introduce fees or restrictions where they see fit. When it comes down to it I'd rather pay an extra $15 or $30 and be able to go back to Australia for a bit, than to not visit at all. But it's going to make traveling frequently a lot more unattainable for us. Which is sad.

Anyway, this post wasn't started so I could gripe about airlines. I wanted to share with you all my exciting news about Christmas 2009!

At this point in time, Aaron's brother Matt, and Matt's lovely girlfriend Sarah, are planning to come over as well, but will probably do some of their own thing rather than spend the entire time with my family (fair enough - I go crazy spending time with my family, and I'm one of them - can't imagine what it's like for an outsider... poor Aaron ;-P).

Mum and I have already started planning - Christmas on the beach! We'll rent a couple beach houses or shacks, either down at Kingston or closer to the Coorong (if it hasn't been completely extincted or dried up by then...), have some seafood on the barbie for lunch, have a hit of beach cricket, go for a swim (maybe even hire some surfboards??), and get hammered. A typical Eckert family Christmas wouldn't be complete without getting hammered.

Exhibit A: Submitted for your approval - particularly Kerrin - the time she got wasted and I believe there was a SuperSoaker and peanut chucking war started, including peanuts being ditched at the kids over the neighbor's back fence? And I believe Kerrin was overheard saying to her 18-month-old baby, "Hello Vallie, Mummy's very drunk!"

Exhibit B: Then there was the time Aunty Chris ordered two alcohol baskets from Chrisco, and Sam was mixing drinks for Dad and Gaz first thing Christmas morning, so by the time I got back from church most everyone was on their way to being well and truly sloshed, and we polished off a bottle of champers on the way to the cemetery to say hi to Gran and Lala? And then Dad drank the cream?

Ah, memories...

If you don't know of these events and are now viewing me with some apprehension, please be assured that I'm usually the sober one. Hence why I remember all these events!

It sure is going to be interesting introducing little Adelaide to her extended family. The kids are all nuts (but adorable), the bogan streak is well and truly alive in the entire family (some more than others...), they/we are all very loud, and our way of thinking is very "small town". Not really anything like the subdued but awesome Plein family! Hopefully there will be within her an unquenchable Eckertality (see, Kia Rondo, I can make up words too) that will come out and prepare her for The Crazy. We'll see what happens.

[insert appropriate title here]

I had a bit of a breakdown the other night. You know how it goes - crying on your husband's shoulder in bed, not being able to shut your mind off to try and sleep, feeling miserable enough to transfer over to the next day. All that jazz. As it so often happens, it started as one tiny thing and gushed open into a million others.

It seems my current 'button' that pushes me over the edge is my milk supply. Now, Adelaide has had formula before at daycare when necessary, and although I'm not a huge fan of it, I'd rather her have that than go hungry. But as best as I can, I want to make sure she's eating as much breastmilk as possible. So when my supply goes wonky, I tend to go wonky also. And the other night, my supply was going wonky. In hindsight, it was probably due to being sick over the weekend, or maybe not drinking enough milk and/or water myself, but at the time I was freaking. It was about 10pm the night before an 8-hour shift - for which I had just over a full bottle for Laidey (about 6 or 7 ounces all up). True, she could just have formula if she gets hunrgy, but I think I was in a bit of a fragile mood anyway, because it got me crying. Not just that, though. The whole thing about why I even have to work at all.

I don't want to be one of those people who bitches about "back in the day it cost a nickel to fill the car up, and it'd run for dickety-six miles on the sniff of an oily rag". But with the price of gas, plus the price of childcare, going to work often seems like an exercise in futility. I'm making US$7 an hour. Minimum wage. Yeah, it sucks. Childcare and gas costs approximately $37 per shift. So in order to break even, I need to work for at least six hours at a time. At the moment, they're giving me 8-hour shifts, which is good, but it's still only getting me $56 a shift, before tax. At the very, very most, I'm making $20 a shift. So sometimes it's kinda depressing to think about.

Plus there's the whole maternal thing. I like to work (mostly), but I also like being a mother. I love my baby like you wouldn't believe, and I love to spend time with her. I know being a stay-at-home mum isn't an option, but it's a truth I accept and act upon reluctantly.

So, take the "exercise-in-futility" mindset, weigh it against the "I-love-spending-time-with-my-baby" mindset, and add to the mix the "holy-crap-my-supply-is-running-low" mindset, and... well it ain't pretty. As I said before, my brain wouldn't shut off, I couldn't fall back onto the whole Scarlett O'Hara mantra of "I won't think about it now; I'll think about it tomorrow". It was there, in the front of my mind, and I couldn't ignore it. I was working for pennies a day, which was taking me away from someone I love fiercely, and I couldn't even make it up to her by supplying her with enough food for while I was gone.

Fun times.

And I learnt something about myself while I was bawling my eyes out. Most of the time, the things I'm crying about aren't what they appear. It really wasn't my supply, or that I'm not making much money at work. It's that I'm not at home. That's really what it comes down to. I found myself thinking, "If only I was home. If only I was home I could be making so much more money... I wouldn't have to pay for childcare because Mum or Kerrin or someone could watch Adelaide... I wouldn't be living in my in-laws' basement... I would feel so much happier at home..."

And that's pretty much the core of anything I'm ever upset or angry or frustrated about these days. Everything comes back to "if I were at home, things would be different/easier/better."

I've got to stop thinking that way.

Simply put, I'm not home, and I won't be home for some years yet, most likely. It sucks, but that's the truth of it. I married Aaron knowing (though perhaps not to such an extreme extent) that life would be difficult for one of us no matter where we lived, and we made the choice to live in the States. This is where I'm living, this is where my "home" is right now.

Now, I'm not saying I should completely turn my back on Australia, or that being homesick is wrong. But to blame all my problems on being here instead of there, and imagining that everything would be hunky-dory if only we were back home, that's not helpful.

I sometimes get annoyed that I'm the one 'suffering' while Aaron gets to stay in his home land. But then I imagine moving back home with Aaron and Adelaide, and I see how crushed Mary and John would be... their already-small family being split in half. They love Adelaide so much, and she thinks they're just the bee's knees. I can't imagine it. And when I think seriously about moving home, when we start to think of the logistics, I can see why Aaron would be reluctant. We'd probably move back to Keith or Bordertown, so we'd be surrounded by a bunch of yobbos and bogans... not exactly Aaron's type of place.

Maybe it's that I'm more adaptable and flexible than he is. I never thought about that. I don't feel it very much, but I guess I kinda am. A lot of people have told me how much they admire me for moving halfway across the world from my home and family, and a lot of the time I just brush it off, joking that "love makes you do some crazy things". I don't see it as something admirable. I love Aaron, so I'm here. Simple as that. It's nothing I've worked hard for, or aimed for all my life. I fell in love, and now I'm here. It just happened. I know it's not really as simple as all that, but that's what it comes down to. If I'm really as homesick as this blog shows (and I'm sure I am), then it must be an insurmountable love that's keeping me here. And I know I've got that in Aaron. What a guy. <3

Well. I'm not sure exactly what this post was meant to be. It kinda went around in circles, and so if you're still with me, here at the end, I commend you. If I could give you a cookie, I would.

"Oh, sick!"

The titular phrase of this post, to most people, would be a negative comment. Not in Australia. To say that something is "sick" is to say that it's "cool" or "wicked" or "awesome". To say "fully sick" is the ultimate in coolness.

I'm not one who uses the phrase - it's more of a Queenslander thing to say, I imagine. But I did hear it the other day at work.

For those who don't know, yeah I work at Subway. It's not glamorous or high-paying, but I get a free six-inch sub and all the fountain soda I can drink (er... "fountain soda" means "soft drink out of those self-serve machines"). I also live and work in quite the touristy area, and so there are a lot of resorts and camps out this way - you know, the type for summer camps that we see in movies like Addams Family Values and stuff. A lot of these camps use counselors from other countries; they have programs to help bring them over and stuff. I actually considered this as a way of coming to the States back before Aaron and I were engaged, but it didn't work out. Anyway, so where I work is quite close to several camps, so a few groups of counselors have been in for lunch on occasion.

The first time a group came through, I noticed one girl asking for "uh simwuch on whit brid". I asked, "Are you from New Zealand by any chance?" and she was! I almost cried with joy when she asked for "girkuns" instead of "pickles"!

But the most exciting visitor was a few days later, when a guy started to order and I noticed something very familiar about the way he was talking. Instinctively, I asked, "Are you Australian?" - and he was! I said, "So am I, I'm from South Australia!" and he said, "Oh, sick! Yeeah, Oi'm frum up tha Goldy!" Translation: "I'm from the Gold Coast." And he asked for capsicum instead of green peppers! The rest of the day, I was quite hyper. I confused and amused my coworkers by calling everything, "fully sick". And of course I was quite homesick, but managed to cover it well enough. These moments happen and I can't stop and mope about it when they do. Especially when there's subs to make.

Recommendation, by the way. If your local Subway offers a Chicken-Bacon-Ranch sandwich, take it. Get it toasted, with cheddar and shredded cheese, and add tomatoes, and ranch dressing. Then eat it. Boy howdy that's a good sammich.

Hooray for band-wagons

Yes, I know. I've jumped on the Blogger band-wagon. Quite comfy actually, someone's thought to provide cushions - and is that a minibar I see?! Hot damn, I'm in good company.

So why am I starting this blog? As some of my long-standing valued readers may realise, I was quite a journaller (journalist? journalista?) back in the day. I have a box filled to the brim with old notebooks and exercise books that are full of my high-schoolish proses and musings. Mostly about boys. "OMG I'm totally in love with Scott/Duane/Ashley/Ben/Josh/Trevor/Ben/Josh/no, definitely Ben/Paul/Nathen." Yeah. You get the picture. Ahh, for the days of my youth. And I've had other blogs over the Intarwebz in the past, usually more of a "this is what I did today OH BOY IT'S GREAT FUN" variety. I've also been into musing on a spiritual level as well, having prayer journals in which I would write out my prayers and thoughts and worries and bring them to God, and sometimes I would write poems and songs.

My penchant for journalling and blogging seems to have lagged of late, mostly (I'd say) because I guess I lost my purpose or aim in exactly what I was doing. I remember first setting up an internet blog when I came to the States back in 2004, so that my family and friends could keep up with how my trip was going, but when I got back it kinda fizzled and became more about the lead-up to our wedding, and how much of a jerkwad my old boss was (he was an interesting one... he had some major anger management issues). Then over the past year, I've been somewhat preoccupied with the whole gestating, giving birth and being a mother thing. It's only taken over almost my entire life, so you can see how I may not have had much time for blogging anymore.

So why start one up now? Especially when I have a Totsite for my daughter, where I can update everyone on her progress, which is pretty much what is overtaking my life (see last sentence of above paragraph). Well, firstly, there's the whole band-wagon thing (did I mention the minibar? - mmm, mojitos...) and secondly, well, I have a lot to say I suppose. Some people here in the States probably don't realise it, and some people back home in Australia probably don't realise it either. I guess life is a lot different to how I pictured it, and seemingly I have adapted to fit into this new rollercoaster of a life. So I'd guess most of you don't really know much about how I think these days. But don't feel too bad, it isn't your fault. Adapting to my new life has seen me become a lot more introverted, maybe even a little fearful? No, that's not the right word. I guess, less trusting? No, wait. Argh. I suck at teh rytingz. I guess I mean, I'm not as willing to be open to anyone I meet anymore. I know this really is something I need to work on, and maybe something I need to trust God more for (more about That Guy in another entry), but the simple fact of the matter is, that's how I am these days. Or at least, for the time being. We'll see what the future holds.

I got lost... what was I saying? Oh yes. Why I'm starting a new blog. Well, I've realised recently that I've been getting more and more nostalgic when I think about Australia, and the family and friends I have back there (hence the url address of my site, stupidpacific.blogger.com - as in, "stupid Pacific Ocean, get outta my way"... get it? Yes? No? Okay). This could be because my visa is due to expire within the next two months - yeah, tell me about it! Two years has passed like a freight train. I'm in the process of adjusting my status - in fact, I'll hopefully be sending out the application on Friday. Let's just hope those lovely chaps at Immigration Services get to it and send me my receipt notice before July 23rd, hey? Maybe I should start some kind of a countdown on this page. Wonder how I can set that up? I shall have to explore this whole Blogger thing over the next couple of days. Anyway.

And as much as I love the guy, I don't want to get too nostalgic and homesick around Aaron. It's not that he wouldn't understand, or that he would resent it. I do have moments where I'm feeling sad or whatever, and I just have to say that I'm homesick and he's fantastic about it. But I don't want to overwhelm him. It's not his fault that I'm 15,000kms from my home. We love each other, and are in this whole marriage thing for the long haul, and we both knew that being married would include some incredible sacrifices for the both of us, more so than couples who are both from the same country. And more so for me, since it was more 'logical' for us to live here. I knew that, and I made the decision to move here. And I don't think it's fair for me to continually go on at him about how much I miss Australia, and how awesome it would be if we could move back, and why can't we move back right now, and so on. The truth is, I think about home a lot, and they're my thoughts. I can be pretty flighty and confusing in my thoughts, so to verbalise them can be pretty overwhelming for him, I'm sure.

This has turned out to be a much longer first post than I originally intended. Thus proving beyond any doubt that I have a lot to say. Also, if I got too emotional and whatever with the whole Australia thing just now, for anyone back home reading this, I'm sorry if I made you sad reading it. I do like it here, and I'm glad I'm here, but you know how it goes... be it ever so humble, there's no place like home, etc.

Okay well I think I'm heading off now! That's enough of an essay to get you all started. I will most likely be adding to this a lot over the next few days. And, as most of my long-time valued readers will know, I can sometimes go for long periods of time between entries... I'm like that. Easily distracted by new things and-- ooh look! That dog has a puffy tail!!