This is my first official Chrissy down under, and sadly, probably my last. But spending an international holiday in another country is a great way to learn about other cultures, and this Chrissy is no different. First off, it took me a few weeks before I could figure out who this Chrissy person was everyone was talking about it. Who was she? Why didn?t I know her? Did she have massive parties on the weekend and invite everyone in Adelaide except me? Nope. She is just an Aussie nickname for Christmas. So what makes an Aussie Chrissy? No snow, first off. THANK GOD FOR THAT. The weather has been in the low 80s F (20s C), and while I don?t miss the snow, it really doesn?t feel like Christmas without the ass-freezing weather of Chicago.
I see decorations like this at the local mall, but it just feels like Australia is lying to me. Like I?m gonna wake up on the 25th and the rest of the world is going to say, nope, sorry. Australia lied. It?s totally not Chrissy.
This is a giant sand sculpture they made in the middle of Rundle Mall. Yup, sand instead of snow. Gotta love it.
This is the bell guy. The bell guy sits outside of numerous stores around town playing a small set of bells all year long. Clearly, he was not strong enough to resist the true Chrissy spirit. Rock out with your sock out, Mr. Bell guy. So about every five feet or so in Rundle Mall, there are Chrissy buskers. Buskers is the Aussie word for street performers, and it seems like every kid with an instrument or talent is shoved into the mall to earn a few bucks before the holidays. On Chrissy Eve, I saw this wicked good girl making origami animals, and heaps of kids playing Chrissy tunes. I love me some buskers.
And here is a shot of an early Chrissy care package from my loving parents.
Flosspicks, candy canes, Fannie May candy, and of course, a bottle of Frank?s Red Hot. This stuff is so good, I would probably eat my own arm if I had some on it.
Look at my little Charlie Brown tree, all tiny but proud. It is my first tree ever, so I love it. It might not look like much, but then again, neither did Gandhi. And he rocked pretty hard, all while wearing a diaper. Lesson learned: don’t judge a Hindu (or a Christmas tree) by its cover. I am actually writing this on Christmas night, which is sad, because I still have a trip to the Outback, Melbourne AND the chili cook off to write about! Sigh?it never ends, even over the holidays. Happy Chrissy to everyone! ~LTG
IBS is a total b*tch. I am the queen of...
