Denial Doesn't Work

After two weeks, three plane rides, a multitude of airport personnel, numerous lines, rental cars, and one really very nice Northridge, Calif., hotel, Meredith and I arrived in Lismore, NSW, Australia.

I'm dripping with sweat from the humidity, which I'll take over the snow of Brooklyn any day, actually. I was geared up to write a long-ass post, but why try to take care of it all at once, I say. I'm minutes away from heading outside to go do something Australian with my new sunglasses on (apparently the sun is more intense down here). But before that, I'd like to tell a little story.I was sitting at the dining room table, resting after probably 36 hours of sleeplessness and unpacking three suitcases. Part of the unpacking entailed my opening a closet door in the hallway for winter things, such as sweatshirts and what not. (Won't be needing those for a while, I write as I contend with the sweat pouring down my face right now.)

So I was all up in this closet, moving things around and most definitely stepping in it just a little bit to reach the top shelf. Meredith then began to do her own unpacking, as I sat at the dining room table. When suddenly, she said, "Stay there, Catherine."

I looked up to see her standing at the closet door looking on the floor. It seemed that there was in fact a huntsman spider, chillin' like a villain up in there, having been allowed to ferment and grow and get juicy after being left alone for two weeks. Meredith sprayed and sprayed and sprayed some more and the goddamn thing still didn't die. I remained in my seat the entire time, wanting to maintain the illusion of ignorance I had about Australian spiders. But alas, I weakened and, after being assured that the spider was on its way out, stood up to take a gander.

I have no words.

But this spider wasn't the only action we got Friday night. I saw a cockroach. Not a big deal. And while watching television, I was overcome by an intensely obnoxious car alarm. Surely the owner would come outside momentarily to relieve me. But it wasn't to be. A few minutes later, with the sound reverberating through my head, I commented on the sound. Probably something like "Wow, that's quite a car alarm," or, "Nobody will be stealing that car after setting that thing off," or, "Why the fuck won't that goddamn owner of that fucking car turn the bloody alarm off?!"

"Those are frogs," Meredith said.

Frogs.

So far I have learned that Australia -- Lismore, at least -- has frogs that sound like car alarms, birds that sound like frogs, and spiders that couldn't give a fuck about boundaries.

But it's also got Meredith, a Labor government, broadband, Bones, Criminal Minds, Supernatural, et al., so I'm happy to be here.