My Aussie Friend

I met a nice girl a few weeks ago.  She volunteers at the same place that I do, and we met at training.  We were the only young people there, and we bonded over our youth and boredom and current unemployment.  Anyway, we hung out and had a good time.  I never want this blog to be like a diary (I have a separate book where I record all my "today what happened was..." and all my deep stuff.  This blog is supposed to just be my opinions, nothing too deep).  So forgive me for telling you a "What happened on this day," journal-type of story but I just HAVE to write this here.  Ok, so me and the girl from Australia are hanging out and talking, and then somehow meat comes up.  So naturally, bacon (arguably the most divinely inspired of all man's creations.  Forget the Sistine Chapel) comes up in the discussion.  She was talking about how differently bacon is cut in Australia, and that one year her husband (who is Italian but grew up in Germany. Cool, huh?) wanted to try some.  So, this is what she did:

She smuggled bacon in her suitcase.  She smuggled bacon into another country, and risked getting into trouble with customs.  You can't bring food into another country, especially of you are traveling by airplane.  But she risked it all for her husband.  To bring the joy of bacon to her spouse.  And she packed, as she described, "kilos" of it.  Like criminals measure out their cocaine.  Only she had kilos of bacon.  Gotta love the metric system.


It was at that point in our three-hour talk that I knew she and I would get along just fine.