right here, right now.

I think I have tickets to the Superbowl. I have a sealed envelope with a lanyard and holographic plastic ticket for Friday night's Australian Football League's Finals. I mentioned it in passing to someone, and they kinda gave me a a 'i hate you, you do not deserve that ticket' face. Oops. Anyway, I'll need to do some research because I have no idea what sport this is. They have two different types of rugby here, soccer, something called Aussie Rules, and something called AFL. I might be combining them and mixing them up there, but yeah, I have a ticket to the 'Marketing Suite'. Should be fun, I know one person going. Luckily, it's Maria (the women I met in NYC a few times, as well as here in Melbourne last month) and she's really fun. :) Anyway, so yeah - Superbowl's on Friday. Besides that, I'm free for the next two months after 6.

Bringing my computer to work this morning was one of my least favorite experiences of my life. First there was the mere dragging the non-wheely, no-shoulder-strap, 70 lb black box that everyone thought was a bomb all the way TO Australia. Then getting it off the baggage claim round-about-thingy. I need some pain prescriptions, a chiropractor, or a really poundy massage, preferably, all three. SO THEN, came this morning when I had to get that damn box from hell from the hotel to the 18th story of BHP Billiton Centre. Apparently you have to wait 30 minutes for a taxi, so once he showed up, he proved to be the meanest person ever. He looked at my bomb of a computer bag, told ME to put in his his trunk, drove with the hood open - in the rain, in a roundabout way to the office (which I KNOW is not a 7 minute drive since I can WALK there in 5 minutes). Then he pulls up, conveniently, half a city block away from the entrance, and tells me "I cannot take your bag out of the car, I am working. I will not break my back to pick up your bag. You do it. Or you call someone. $5.50." I don't know how to decipher an Aussie cent from an Aussie one or two dollar coin yet, so I paid him $7 (they don't tip here, especially to mean drivers who refuse to remove a bag from the boot). Anyway, I drug the damn black box down the block, through the circular door (which you may know, i have problems getting through WITHOUT a 70 lb huge ass box that barely fits in the trapezoidal section.) I'm not talking just drag, I'm talking walking backwards (in work apparel) bent over, lugging a huge bombbox down the street and into the most securitally-anally-retentive office building in the city. Once I got that thing into the foyer, I rung Ashlee at the front desk (mind you, I have no mobile yet) and she met me down with a dolley sent from heaven above (the 27th floor). We finally got that damn thing to my desk. 4 hours later, after literally twiddling my thumbs, my monitor arrived. It's time to rock and roll.