-As I took off from Sydney Airport last week, headed back to LAX after a two-and-a-half-week Australian adventure, I suddenly realized my flight was following the same exact route as the ill-fated passengers on the show “Lost.”  Thankfully, my plane landed safely in Los Angeles and not some mysterious netherworld populated by bizarre characters of uncertain ilk (though, admittedly, it’s pretty difficult to tell the difference).  However, I think the flight (in which some dude actually had the pilot propose to his girlfriend over the loudspeaker) was an appropriately strange ending to an overall absurd trip.  Here’s the recap of my blunder Down Under.

-The primary combatants on the trip were my buddies Jen and Triplet #2, and our first order of business upon arriving in Sydney was to take Trip 2 out for his birthday.  Due to Jen’s extensive business travel, she was able to get us upgraded to a gourmet suite in the Sydney Marriott.  This worked out well as I was able to utilize the bucket that held our complimentary champagne to vomit in profusely after taking three birthday shots for every one of Trip 2’s.  The following day, we were scheduled to climb the Sydney Harbour Bridge, the top of which offers spectacular views of the Opera House and the rest of the city.  Unfortunately for me, one of the prerequisites to scaling the bridge was passing a breathalyzer test.  Let me tell you what I discovered – no matter where you are in the world, when you fail a breathalyzer at 3pm solely from drinking the previous night, most people are laughing at you, not with you.

-On my list of most annoying people to travel with, the very worst are people who get really tan and won’t stop discussing their tanning strategies.  For over two weeks, I had to hear Jen and Trip 2 talk about how much “color” they got and how they hoped to get more “color” and where they might be lacking in “color.”  Nobody mother-fucking cares, you assholes!  I need two coats of SPF 45 just to avoid getting burnt to a crisp on an overcast day.  But, hey, at least I’m not bitter.

-I studied abroad with Trip 2 in college, so I knew he’d be a good person to travel with because we have similar sightseeing protocols: see the major sights, take a picture or two, and then get the fuck outta there.  What is it about girls that makes them want to linger at every single plaque, rock, or tree?  Guys are much more efficient.  While swimming in Lake McKenzie, a top tourist spot in Australia featuring crystal clear freshwater surrounded by white beaches and lush green forest, Trip 2 said to me, “Wow, this is beautiful.”  And I was like, “Yeah, it really is.”  We both admired the landscape for a moment and then Trip 2 said, “I could leave in fifteen minutes” and I was like, “Totally.”