25 and Grounded.

The last time my dad and I had a ridiculous row like this most recent one, it was the summer of 2005; I had allowed my bathroom to become such a disaster the one could hardly find the sink (as I had been using it as a flower vase for the seeming lack of better options). My punishment? I arrived home one day to find my bathroom door securely fastened by a padlock.

Proof that time cannot heal all wounds.

Fast forward five years and not much has changed. Here is *roughly* how the most recent father-daughter duel went down last week:

"So, Daughter. When are you going to study for your nursing exam??" to which I replied "I'm studying tonight and all day tomorrow before I pick up (cousin) Lauren and drive up to Sacramento to have dinner with Grandma" and was promptly and brutally rebuffed with "You're grounded. Give me your car keys."

Haha, for real. Oh wait, you're serious... FOR REAL??? I am almost 25 years old. AND I was visiting a grandma- On WHAT planet does that happen??

Well, apparently this one because the next day I could be found sweating profusely, walking my happy ass through downtown Orinda to the library. Complete this image with the sneakers, glasses, ponytail, and backpack that I was rocking, replace the iPod in my hand with my old Tamagotchi, and you've gone back 14 years to Molly at her height of cool, circa 1996:

Parents that try to foster a child's individuality end up with school photos like this.

Isn't it just like family to check you right before your brand new strut explodes into a full blown swagger? When you're holding your head high- except when you need to shoot contemptuous looks at your shoulders as you brush that dirt off?

Fresh from Australia, I'd been feeling pretty proud of myself: I had survived, mistakes and all. On top of that, my life there was a simple one, far removed from the pressures and heartaches of home; it was easy to forget where and who I was. That was the most incredible, weightless feeling. And while my heart and thoughts become heavier each day as I slowly come back down to earth, that carefree invincibility has helped me to float through the summer months with relative ease...

translation: I have NOT been studying for the NCLEX; it has been 3 months and I have resisted getting a phone; I don't want to talk/see anyone– Life needed to pipe down because I was not ready for it to move on.

Aaand cue Papa Yee, always there to deliver that swift kick of reality- and by swift kick I mean Chuck Norris shows up and roundhouse kicks you back a decade and a half.

To sum up: I just got schooled by my dad and was grounded until I took my exam. The ban has since lifted but I think it shall unofficially remain in place because, simply put, he's right. However, the real take home message of this post is to my friends and family: I'm sorry I've been MIA and I love you all for sticking around.

I'm booting the test back one more month and the plan is to take it right before my birthday. So pass or fail, I'll speak to you all in... 34 days, 8 hours, 21 minutes, and 34 seconds. And pass or fail, I will be in dire need of a some booze n' tunes to go alone with my new groove. So whether you were born to boogie (like Jen) or you got your first dance lesson from Carlton Banks (like me), put your fun pants and your dancing shoes on come September because you all are invited to my birthday party :)

Much love,

Molly

And I wasn't kidding about my first dance lesson. Everything I need to know about social situations I learned from the Fresh Prince of Bel-Air... I just learned from the wrong character :)

10 things I learned in Australia

How ya goin!! I made it to Sydney last week and am flying back to the Bay in TWO DAYS! Needless to say, with 15 entries and a whole lot of writing, I failed in my goal of a "daily" "photo" blog. But I've had a lot of fun writing it and I sincerely hope that my blog has helped some of you to do some proper procrastination in my absence.

Despite my best efforts, I'm about two months behind- I still have about half the country to write about. Well, I don't really feel like studying for the NCLEX, so I'm going to keep plugging away at it- feel free to tune in when you feel like tuning out :)

To come full circle back to my first post, I am now at the end of a perfect flaw-filled trip and it is also the perfect time to go home! I know this because I am still neither (completely) broke nor broken (bruised and bleeding does not count), the sky is still the limit, and I can't wait to get back to my city by the bay :) Aaaand I perform the sniff test on the regular... it's definitely time to go home, wash EVERYTHING, and get some proper sleep.

But first!!!

10 things I have learned:

1) "Slip, Slop, Slap"... as in Slip on a shirt, Slop on some sunscreen, and Slap on a hat (what were YOU thinking??) because there really is a massive hole in the ozone above Australia. You WILL burn.

2) Goon balloons make decent pillows and Indomie Mi Goreng instant noodles cost 60 cents!

3) Always carry cash as credit cards options are often not available. Convert all card statements to paperless online ones before you leave and check them weekly to determine whether or not you got your very expensive bond back from when you rented that car in Western Australia.

4) Copies of important documents are good- emailed scans are better because you will at some point drop your bag in a river.

5) This map is actually pretty accurate... except Dannii Minogue now lives in London, I think.

6) Almost everyone smokes and pops pills, and it isn't uncommon for the guy that you THOUGHT was chatting you up to really just want you to block him from view while he snorts a line ON the bar. The only way to avoid it is to not make any friends.

7) Insect repellent without Deet is a waste of money, and Bushman is the only thing I've found that works. Draw a horizontal line through the midpoint of Australia: anywhere above that, bring your spray.

**On that note, sand flies are way worse than mozzies, and if a sand fly PEES on say, the back of your thigh and you itch it, you WILL have a swollen lump the size of a softball where your hamstring should be.**

8) Be prepared to represent your country and remember that what other countries know of America comes from the media- this usually means that they first think of politics (Bush), Hollywood (Ryan Seacrest), and reality shows ("Jersey Shore" and "Toddlers and Tiaras")... embarrassing much??

** Most people you will meet are wonderful and sophisticated and know that there is a difference between the government and the individual. However, when someone asks "Where are you from?", it is not cheating to just say "California", or even better, "San Francisco". People may not like American government but they all loooove San Francisco! And as long as you don't turn out to be a douche (or a liar), they will be much more inclined to love you too.

It is, however, cheating to say you're from Canada. **

9) Listen more, speak softly, remember names and enjoy the rando connections you make, but don't say things you don't mean, like "yeah, you should TOTALLY come visit California!". Because they will.

10) And finally, this REALLY does not happen.

Dear Australia,

I love you. Keep in touch!

Love, Molly

Is it a whale? Is it a shark?? I don't know!

I'm about two months late in posting this, but traveling up the west coast of Australia is a bit like being back in the late 80s/early 90s: no mobile phones, no internet, and a lot more denim.

Actually, the no service thing worked really well until I found out that after two weeks Jen began picturing my body lying in a ditch, and by the beginning of the third week she'd started to call the calvary (aka my family) :) but real talk- there is NOTHING out here for MILES.

There is one coach that travels up the coast a couple times a week, from Perth to Broome. I decided to leave Monkey Mia early and hopped the bus up to Coral Bay, which is about 600 km further north and is the gateway to the Ningaloo Reef.

So I definitely stole this picture, but it doesn't matter because I could have taken it- this is exactly what it looks like. The sand is blindingly white and the water so shallow that it is perfectly clear and barely laps at your ankles for a good 50 meters from the beach. Walk another 50 and you've hit the Ningaloo Reef- literally. By the time you're up to your knees in water, there are big rainbow colored fish nibbling on your toes (also literally).

Another stolen picture...

The Ningaloo Reef is 300 kilometers of fringing reef. This type of reef borders the coast and protects the shore from waves, which break way out at sea at the edge of the reef flats. It is also the only extensive reef to be on the west coast of a continent and is absolutely gorgeous. It's made mostly of green and brown hard corals (as opposed to the colorful soft corals of the Great Barrier) but is utterly unspoiled.

Looking out from the beach, the water looks clear for about 50 meters, bright turquoise for another hundred meters, and then black. There isn't a gradual color gradient either- the ocean floor drops abruptly beneath your feet, creating a distinct line. I almost started to panic when I did a quick 360 and realized I was surround by black water, but the second you duck below the surface, your world is again that brilliant turquoise and vibrant with fish, turtles, rays and whales.

My camera was crap, but can you see the two turtles below?

Next stop was Exmouth, which is about 200 km north and still bordered by the reef. Why go to Exmouth? Only because you can pay a bunch of money to swim with whale sharks and have it be worth every. single. penny!

It's actually not that much. Less than what you pay to dive with great whites, I can tell you that! AND I actually saw something! (I swear I'm really not bitter... anymore)

Is it a whale? Is it a shark?? I don't know!

ACTUALLY, the whale shark is a shark- the world's largest, to be exact. A gigantic filter feeder fish that eats plankton, is cold blooded, breathes through gills, has a skeleton made entirely of cartilage, and skin that is four inches thick.

I will just say it now: swimming with whale sharks = most wicked experience ever! We boarded a boat which took us out way past the reef to the middle of the ocean. The crew then passed out our gear and explained what we were about to do using very helpful diagrams and bracing words of encouragement:

"Oi! If you manage to miss this massive fish and get eaten, you're a flamin' idiot and that shark just did us all a favor."

Because they are cold blooded, whale sharks often bask near the surface. Each company uses spotter planes that radio down to the boats when they find a shark. The skipper will then position the boat directly in the shark's path, maybe a hundred meters away.

**BTW: If you ever choose to do this, go with Ningaloo Reef Dreaming. They are the only company with their own plane which means we didn't have to share our sharks! Everyone got to spend almost an hour swimming with them that day.**

Standing at the stern, there was a moment's thrill before a very hairy man with an unlit cigarette dangling precariously from his lip was screaming "GO!GO!GO!" like we were starring in a military movie, jumping out of a plane into the jungles of Vietnam. I don't know if it was meant to add to the experience or if he had just knocked back a Red Bull, but it was very effective.

I flung myself wildly off the side of the boat with my usual grace and poise, and when I opened my eyes I was rewarded with a front row view of the most massive (MASSIVE!) mouth ever (EVER!!). It spans the width of the whale shark's head and can measure up to four feet. I definitely inhaled a lot of water and promptly let out a stream of four-letter bubbles.

Jonah and Pinocchio being swallowed by whales seems extremely possible now, right??

After frantically swimming out of the way, I fell in beside my first whale shark. I've named him Norm. Norm was young, measuring about 8 meters; full grown sharks can reach 12-14.

The water was choppy that day and our boat had been the only one to go out. With my head above water, it was easy to be aware of the power of the elements and the ocean and how physically limited humans are. I could hear the wind whistling and sense my body bobbing along in the swell... I knew my hands were cutting into the waves, could feel my legs kicking furiously, but for all the good it seemed to be doing, I might as well have been a rubber duck in a tub.

The scene below the surface, however, was so surreal. It was silent, still, and a calming cerulean blue. Norm barely moved as he glided effortlessly through the water. I can't explain to you how something that large moves with such grace, but I CAN tell you that it is not just from being in water. Because I've tried that. And it has not helped. Case in point:

I am the frog on the right. The swan on the left is Tiffany.

I thought spiders the size of saucers only existed in Harry Potter...

Hey hey! Just a quick update til I have the time and internet access for more... left Fremantle for Monkey Mia March 19th. Hung out with the dolphins until Wednesday, the 25th, when I went to Coral Bay. From there I caught the bus up to Exmouth and then to Broome on the 29th. Bought a ticket to Darwin on the 2nd, explored Kakadu (spiders. the size of saucers. not ok), and took the train to Alice Springs yesterday morning. Tomorrow morning, Malinda and I leave to go camping in the desert. I'm not too sure how I feel about Alice Springs and by association, the desert.... a grasshopper the size of my hand just got stuck in my hair... that's not right. Should be a fun-filled weekend :) Miss you guys! Lots of love and speak to you all soon!

Don't walk though this land a stranger.

Have you ever seen the film "Baby Mama"? Do you remember Steve Martin's character? He plays Tina Fey's self-righteous New Agey boss and says ridiculous things like "I have eaten the egg of a platypus that was hatched under a gopher in the Himalayas beneath the full moon". When I talk about my time spent at Monkey Mia, I feel like I could be Steve Martin's character. "I swam with bottlenose dolphins in the turquoise waters of the Indian Ocean, where the red sands of the desert meet the white shores of the Australian coast"...

Absolutely unreal.

Check another one off the bucket list! I spent a week working with the dolphins at Monkey Mia in Sharks Bay- well worth the hassle of getting there. Did I mention I created my own mess? I have been SO good about being on time... but let's be real- we ALL knew it was going to happen at least once!

Lesson #3: Always pack the night before. Because if you don't, you may be too late to take public transportation to the bus station in the morning... which means you may have to call 2 cabs (since the first one MAY not come), and after paying $40 dollars you may still JUST miss your bus. Maybe. But rest assured you will give everyone a good laugh as you valiantly run, with your 20+ kilos of luggage, in a vain attempt to catch it as it pulls out of the station...

It looked... well, nothing like this. It looked worse.

So. If you were hypothetically foolish enough to not pack the night before, you may also end up spending another $60 to immediately hop on the next random bus up the coast, while frantically placing calls to the driver of the Greyhound Bus you're SUPPOSED to be on, praying that he will wait in Geraldton for you.

OR your amazing friends may have to help you pack mere hours before your flight. These are all just hypothetical scenarios, of course.

The struggles were all worth it though. This is where I spent my week:

Shark Bay is amazing. It has been declared a World Heritage Area. To be declared as such, the region must possess one of four criteria, and Shark Bay has all four:

• Major stages of the world's evolutionary history

• Geological and biological processes

• Natural beauty

• Threatened species

When Lisa Frank was creating her colorful line of binders in the 90's, she was either on drugs or on the beach at Monkey Mia, because smiling dolphins and cracked out colors are exactly what you get there. The sunset saturates everything in a warm red glow and the sky turns hues of dusky rose and soft purples.

Shark Bay is THE place for people whose biggest desire is to relax and do nothing but appreciate life. When the staff weren't skinny dipping off the pier, my favorite thing to do was to take my blanket and ipod down to the edge of the dock. There are so many visible stars, and I think I saw enough shooting stars to wish away the whole world's problems.

If you stop and stare, the water seems to sparkle, too, although it is actually from the glow of the resident bioluminescent plankton. They light up with movement- it's pretty cool to swim at night and see the water light up around you. I wish I knew more. One of the guys that worked there was telling me all about them, but all I remember is that they're pretty and they glow. I think he was disappointed I didn't find plankton more riveting- I was disappointed I didn't have anyone else to talk to.

I went swimming one day and found some company

Shark bay is teeming with wildlife (other than dolphins). We went cruising and spotted a dugong (similar to manatees). They're so shy and all you can really see are their heads as they peek out of the water. They are also the base for the myth of the mermaid. Centuries ago, love-starved sailors saw the dugong poke it's sea-grass covered head above the water and the fantasy of the mermaid was born.

The guys let me steer the ship- I managed to put us about 30 degrees off course in about 15 seconds.

It is so isolated- there's no public transportation and the small town of Denham is 30 kms away, which is fine because no one wants to go there anyways. Monkey Mia really only consists of the resort and the adjacent offices of the Department of Wildlife Conservation, where rangers and researchers (and Molly!) play with fish and collect important dolphin data. This was the highlight of my job:

They are so playful and would rub against my leg and tilt their heads and look at me and I can't really fault Lisa Frank because they really do smile!

The dolphins have been coming to Monkey Mia since 1960 and are still completely wild. They are fed up to three times between 7 am and noon if they choose to come in for the feedings. Only five of them are fed. The type and amount of fish differ depending on the dolphin and how many times they have been fed already as the rangers want to make sure that they don't become dependent upon the feedings.

Yellowtail and Bony Herring were the favorites.

This (front) is Nicky. You can tell because of the notch at the top of her fin. The other dolphin is her calf, Fin, who is about two.

I learned that when dolphins are feeling either aroused or angry, their normally white bellies turn pink. A lot of the visitors find it cute, but considering that means you're either pissing them off or turning them on... I consider both equally discomforting.

One of the best nights I had was when one of the locals took a few of us out into the hills and explained a bit about Aboriginal culture. Capes is of Aboriginal descent and still abides by the law and traditions of his people. It reminds me of the little bit I know about Native American culture, and how they live in harmony with nature.

Every time he enters new country, Capes rubs a bit of earth through his hands and introduces himself and encouraged us to do the same: "Hello, my name is Molly. I come from California. I want to say hello to the traditional owners- thank you for having me in you country." You don't have to say it loudly or so others can hear you... it's more that you pay respect to country and really see her as you pass through. As Capes told me, "Don't walk through this land a stranger".

Things you find at the ocean: sting rays, jellyfish, and creepy old men.

Well, if anyone was worried about me never coming home, I have officially been made an offer! His name's John, he's Australian, owns a boat, and took my roommate Carolin and I out for a few civilized nights of sailing, salsa dancing, and dinner at the Perth Yacht Club. (Just for reference purposes, I'm a couple weeks late in writing this- this was while I was in Fremantle.) He's also old... I'm not sure how old, but we met his dad, who is about ninety, if that tells you anything. But he tried to buy me AND my dad tickets to come back to Australia. Nice guy, totally harmless and a complete character... but I don't care- that's still weird.

He picked us up from the train station in this awesome old school bug. Matthieu, who knew him, sat in the front. Carolin and I sat in the back and scrambled to buckle our nonexistent seat belts, exchanging swift nervous glances as the little car hurtled up the street, and finally abandoning all pretense as the bug sailed over a speed bump and part of the roof flew off. John, for his part, continued his stories, calmly sipping his beer (yeah, they do that here) as he maneuvered through traffic, only stopping to curse vehemently at the ineptitude of other drivers.

Despite the ride there, the hours spent sailing were extremely peaceful. I steered the boat and learned to adjust the sails while he and Carolin (who's an avid sailor back home) went over all the ins and outs of sailing.

By this time it was well into the second week of March and I was leaving to travel up the west coast soon. I still hadn't been south of Fremantle, so I rented a car and drove down to Margaret River with Chiara, who was staying in the same hostel as me. Gas is so expensive here, so every hostel has a notice board where people post lift offers or requests and thankfully Chiara, who is nice and very normal, answered mine! They do it by the liter, but we worked it out one time to be 3-4 times as much as back home.

That was a packed trip- we caught a surf competition and stopped at the wineries. This is what Margaret River is famous for- there's a long road lined with wineries and vineyards on either side, one right after the other. I think there are about ninety in the area, which produce about 20% of Australia's premium wines.

I had to.

My favorite part of the trip was further south at Hamelin Bay. There's not much there and it was pretty empty, except for the sting rays that swim along the shore! They're huge and super friendly... you can't really see it here, but it's that black blob right there.

Up close :)

I think the only other blog worthy thing I did before I left was cliff jumping! We went to Little Creatures, which is this awesome brewery in Fremantle, and rented bikes (for FREE! I love free), which we rode over a couple towns and down to the cliffs.

These cliffs!

Cool kid that I am, I did my depth, death, and rock research before we left, which all passed, but nowhere did anyone mention jellyfish! Apparently because they're really common and are the harmless ones that you can't even feel, but I don't care. Let me tell you, it's scary enough to watch the water rushing towards you without noticing last minute that you're about to land on a jellyfish.

Feelin' Oh So Freo :)

I should have left Perth days earlier! I made my way down the coast to Fremantle- aka Freo, and I LOVE it! Perth sits inland on the banks of the Swan River...

The view of Perth from the water- the best way to see the city is definitely by boat.

but follow the river for twenty minutes to the shores of the Indian Ocean, and you will reach the port of Fremantle! I've been trying to put my finger on WHAT it is that I love so much about this city! Many people consider it the second capital of the state of Western Australia... it has the vitality of a big city, but the ease and unspoiled simplicity of a fishing village.

At one time, Freo was the major gateway into the country for travelers from the west. In the late 1800's it became a prominent working harbor. This height in Fremantle's history is evident in the Victorian architecture that makes up the city center.

It's just so pretty- I love the clean lines of the buildings that sweep towards the horizon, like lines to a vanishing point in a renaissance painting...

and the play of neutral colors and simple geometrical shapes that balance the ornate designs decorating the buildings.

Combine this with wide clean streets, crisp sunlight, a refreshing sea breeze, and the sounds of seagulls and soft waves, and I challenge you to try strolling down the street without smiling.

Although many people love the strips of boutique shops and quaint cafes, famous around the globe for their cappuccinos, in my opinion, the best part of Freo is the harbor- I have fallen in love with ships and the ocean. When I hear the waves breaking on the shore and smell the salt in the air, an impenetrable calm settles over me, so thick it seems to slow time and temporarily muffle the clamor of the rest of world.

My favorites are the old fishing vessels. I find the rusted metal and tangled nets beautiful... and I love the adventurous names printed on the hulls of the ships, clearly visible despite peeling paint; they speak of a time where the world was bigger and yet to be fully discovered.

The peaceful time warp that is Freo- the Victorian buildings, effortless beauty of the fishing harbor, and the unhurried pace- attracts travelers like flies to honey. I believe that people come to Australia for one of two things: escape and adventure... or to escape by having an adventure. That's why they like it here so much- life is wonderfully simple, and because Fremantle is still a major port, there is enough action in the city to keep you entertained. In fact, the Queen Mary 2 was docked in the marina the other day, just in time for the markets and festivals. It's HUGE!

I have a new appreciation for the crew of such ships because one of the jobs I've held since my arrival here has been a porter! The hours are long, usually 11-12 hours. I woke up at 4:30 to dress, eat, pack a lunch, and be down at the docks by 5:30, where we unloaded luggage from 7am-1pm and loaded luggage from 1pm-5pm.

Definitely my favorite job that I've held up to this point. It's long hours and repetitive work, but I like the physicality of it... I loved being down at the docks early in the morning and watching the ship pull in and the sun rise... meeting the happy people just returning from vacation (who were often in the mood to tip!) and the excited ones about to embark on their adventure... and who doesn't like neon orange??

At the beginning of this trip, I could barely lift my backpack without help. Since then it has become much easier. So I figured I could handle carrying baggage- they ALL have wheels!

Short-term work has been easy to come by here. I also worked at a motocross event, selling programs and light sabers, walking up and down stands and yelling like I was selling peanuts at a ball game. WORST. JOB. EVER. I was also one of those people that parents hate because when I wasn't patrolling the stands, I liked to station myself in the shadows of the buildings, slashing the toy through the air, so as to maximize the wimpy lights emitted by my plastic saber.

And finally, probably the most random job I will ever have- I cleaned monster trucks! I've never been that dirty in my life. If you ever go to a monster truck show, and notice how shiny the tires are around the rim out to the tread, just know that someone painted that on, just for your viewing pleasure.