When one door closes...

Excuse me everyone, I have an announcement to make: I've decided to take my talents to Rockingham beach. Hm, that didn't have quite the affectation I desired. Perhaps it wasn't as dramatically drawn out as my pal Lebron's was. I'm no Lebron and it's not South Beach, annnnnd my so-called talents are...well, considerably less talented, but the statement is true nonetheless--I am moving to the west coast of Australia to play basketball for the next 6 months. Wild, I know. Just when you thought you were done with my blog email updates, I come creeping back.

The contract is signed and the flight is booked--I leave tomorrow morning on perhaps the most objectionable plane ride ever. Hannover to London, London to Hong Kong, Hong Kong to Perth, Australia. Really? What, no New York? Couldn't squeeze Brazil in there, either? Pity. Still, I can't complain, I have always wanted to go to Australia and jump around with some Kangaroos. Now I get to do it while playing basketball--how lucky can I be? I guess that saying is true: when one door closes, another one opens...to an airplane going to Australia. Can't remember who said that oddly specific quote, but boy they hit the nail on the head.

I am all packed and my apartment is emptied and clean. The other Americans have left, so it's just me in there now. The past few days have been a whirl wind--applying for an Australian visa, signing scanning and emailing paperwork, packing, cleaning, messaging, trying to recall how to play basketball. I've managed to cross everything off my extensive to-do list though, save that last one. Tricky business.

I don't know yet my living situation for when I arrive, other than that I will be sharing an apartment and have my own room. I put in my request to live with a kangaroo, so keep your fingers crossed. Evidently I will also be getting an automobile. Now, correct me if I am wrong here, but don't the aussies drive on the wrong side of the road? I know it's not the autobahn, but something tells me this driving distinction will prove wildly more challenging than what I faced in Germany.

I was reminded the other day that the Australian teams typically play in like a spandex type onesie rather than a traditional jersey. This not only scares me, it makes me incredibly uncomfortable just imagining myself running in it. I assure you, if my team participates in this blatant sexist custom, I'll get a doctors note excusing me from it under the argument that I am allergic to being ridiculous--except when it's whimsical, that I like.

I still can't access most my pictures from Dublin, Munich and Innsbruck but I have posted some from my last days in Wolfenbuttel and some from traveling. I won't be posting my next blog until I have at least one picture with a kangaroo. Ideally the kangaroo and I are doing some sort of well known pose (maybe we'll "tebow") but I don't know if we'll have time for all that. I have also heard a lot about this "thunder from down under" and while I don't fully understand what it is, I am anxious to investigate and let you all know :)