foreign policies, cupcakes, and death

my house kicked off the weekend early on thursday night by throwing a birthday party for our roommate Samantha. At last, our group consisted of more aussies than americans which made our dynamic interesting. turns out they also do the same ole christian college activities...played games and had friendly competitions. i won a plank contest which contributed to my lack of guilt as a downed 2 slices of Pavlova. best cake i have ever tasted. Have i mentioned there are 3 chefs in the family i live with? almost every dish i eat ive never heard of. its great. anyway we played dares, which resulted in people licking legs, smelling armpits and eating soap. eventually it became a dance party. they parted exhausted and happy.

we woke at 5 am the next day to go to Canberra, the nation's capital- conveniently on election day. it was an incredibly full two days. . . a field trip to the museum on cocaine.

we visited the embassy of New Zealand, Indonesia, and the God-Blessed- AMERICA. each consisted of a speaker informing us about how their foreign policy affected their relationship with Australia, followed by us asking researched questions.

all the embassies (near 100) are within a block of each other. some share buildings even though its that partticular nation's soil. as soon as i walk into the Indonesian embassy, im under their law. driving around was like being in Epcot, minus the fun.

the US embassy was a bit different than the others.

1) it sat on top of the hill looking down on all the others... hmmm... gated by a white iron fence. it looked like a country club in the middle of a middle class neighborhood.

2) it was the only one that required a 2 part security system where they confiscated our drivers licenses.

3) they did not treat us as guest but as though we were a burden to be dealt with . in the others- we were sung to, greeted by a panel, and fed incredibly scrumptious Hors d'ouvres.

4) the US officers gave us vague answers to very specific questions as well as sugar coat america's foreign policy.the other countries admitted to the areas they needed improvement

the funny/sad part was that we didnt care. it was blatantly obvious how jacked up certain things were about how America views the world and why other countries looked at us as ignorant, oblivious , pompous people. ... but we found ourselves wanting to kiss the ground we walked on because it was America's . i wanted to stay in the shabby carpeted room herded us in in because it had central heating and the speaker had my accent. he was deceiving and charming, suave, and well dressed. and i fell for it.

i should have been grossed out by the front that America puts on. but i wanted to hug the pearly white colonial columns because it was like i was home.

we spent that night in a hostel in the city, it was actaully pretty nice. very dorm-like, with a bunch of handmade posters and young receptionist- felt like i was in ODP.

the next day we hit up the Portrait Gallery which sounds boring but turned out to be quite interesting. there is only 4 in the world. We ventured onto the National Museum, then the Art Museum. I Could have spent all day there, with no one else- just me and Radiohead in my ears. I saw original Monets, Andy WARHOLS and freaking JACKSON POLLOCK. i thought about how much annabelle and trav would have loved it and how much i missed them.

The War Memorial we went to after is apparently ranked in the top 5 in the world, i found it quite depressing . maybe if it wasnt a guided tour with a man that couldnt speak above a whisper , and had i not been standing/walking for 6 hours prior i would have enjoyed it. or maybe if Maura was there to tell me why this war happened , or my Dad to point out which planes Pop Pop flew- I could of at least payed attention.

we read countless stories of tortured POW's and thousands of people dyeing in one day.

im hesitant to write this next part because you might think of me differently afterward. but im not there to see your reaction and by the time i return youll have forgotten this. also if you've read this far into this entry you have to love me on some sort of level.

death makes me cold. i shut down emotion. you can sit there and tell me that 30, 000 men fell at the battle of Gallopoli and i wont feel a thing. maybe its the numbers i cant grasp , or death in itself. but i didnt cry at my grandfathers funeral- i tried, i did. i didnt want people to think i didnt feel.

but if i watch a baby dedication , the tears wont stop.

this is backwards- one more of my parodoxes.

maybe because when you're dead, you can stop trying. you're home.

but when a baby is just born. they have no idea what trials, suffering and pain await. how terrifying.

this is pretty skewed i realize - most people rejoice and say o they have their entire life ahead of them, which is great - if its great.

on an entirely different note. today was glorious. the sun woke me up and i sauntered down to Majors Bay which is a stream of shops and bakeries by a rugby field filled with child rec games and burly men practicing. i listened to two great Matt Chandler sermons which was much needed spiritual rejuvenation. I hung my clothes on a line then starting baking sweets with Neil, our host dad. we made pineapple curd pie, 3 batches of cupcakes, and Spinach nyko . all from scratch. we even used iron scales for measuring rather than cups. it was delightful

this entry is entirely too long, im trying to compensate for not responding to 6 facebook messages nor calling my mom for a week or so