Wuzza Wooza Brisbane Booza

AUSTRALIA, YOU ARE IN ME.

Wait, I think I got that backward.

Which is appropriate, given how I’m on the other side of the world. Where they drive on the other side of the street! And cookies are called biscuits! AND WOMBATS RULE MAN WITH AN IRON GLOVE.

Sorry, I’m a bit punchy.

You see, I’ve been up for — *checks watch* — four billion hours.

If anyone ever says to you, “Hey, here’s a flight, and it’s 16 hours,” do not fall for their ruse.

A flight that long is a trip into madness. Like, the flight itself was fine — I had an exit row, lots of leg room, plenty of space above my head. An empty seat next to me, too. But we took off at 10PM. When it had already been dark for hours. And then began sixteen hours of darkness. Just bleak black nothing. A seemingly eternal night. You know how you sleep eight hours at night and then you wake up and — hey, magic, the sun is coming up? Imagine sleeping for eight hours then learning it’ll still be dark for another eight hours.

And sleeping on a plane, yeah, no. Uncomfortable seats. People milling about. Chatty flight attendants. Turbulence. Frigid air. Any time I managed to doze off it was like — HEY WAKE UP, JERK, YOUR SPINE HURTS AND NOW IT’S COLD AND SOMEONE IS EATING GOULASH NOISILY BEHIND YOU.

So, by the end, I felt hungover.

But then I got off the plane and saw Brisbane sun and got a flat white and felt a lot better.

By the way, a “flat white” is the best coffee thing ever. They don’t drink drip coffee here. It’s all mostly espresso — and a flat white is an almost-latte. It is phenomenal. I’ve had two already today. *twitches*

I also had a Tim-Tam (okay, multiple Tim-Tams) thanks to the folks from the writing center.

A Tim-Tim is not, as it turns out, some strange Australian sex move, but rather, a cookie (“biscuit”) so delicious it elicits a nearly erotic sensation.

Enjoying Brisbane so far. Everything here is like a left-of-center version of what I’m used to in America. Similar or same brands with products I’ve never heard of before. Known car brands but unknown models. Burger King seems to be Hungry Jack’s? McDonald’s is Macca’s? Everyone speaks and walks backward. TIME RUNS IN REVERSE.

Or, at least, that’s how it feels. Jet lag is seriously creeping in, now, like rain rot in old wood. It’s 3:30PM and I’m writing this blog to stay awake. I’ve already traipsed about the city for four or five hours. It’s hot. I’m sore. I’ve killed and eaten three koalas. The catch-22 is that to combat the tiredness of jet lag I have to remain active but remaining active just makes me more tired AHHHH so instead here I am blogging to you people.

Anyway. Tomorrow: GenreCon begins.

More, eventually, from me.