Amy had to work the first day - she gave a talk and interrogated the officials at the Uni of Queensland about the study abroad program - and I did my best to look busy. We wandered around Brisbane that night. Definitely a cool city, complete with a man-made beach, the CityCat (a river ferry), yet another Botanic garden (that makes four gardens for those of you counting at home), live music, and a few wicked good restaurants.
JJC Bradfield reared his ugly head in Brisbane. It appears that he compulsively put up bridges all around Australia. This served to feed Amy's megalomanical sense of place in the universe, as she kept pumping her fist and repeating "Oooo yeah, baby. Who's laughin now? Not the Douglasses, that's for sure!"
We went to the Brisbane Museum, primarily because we wanted a bit of backstory on the city. We'd heard that the city was founded by a bend in the Brisbane river to ensure that it was harder for convicts to escape, as treading water with leg irons is apparently harder than you'd think. Sadly, the museum had nothing on the sordid past of the city and was focused instead on all the great and wonderous and charitable things the populace had done since 1842. Great disappointment, needless to say. We did learn 
that the site was initially named Mian-jin, meaning 'place shaped like a spike.' By 1825, the town had swelled considerably in size and was renamed Brisbane, translating roughly to "place shaped like Sir Thomas Brisbane, Governor of Queensland." We rode to the top of the clock tower with six other people in an small, hot, and rarely aerated metal box and that felt a little sordid. So it wasn't a total loss.
More educational tourism in the form of a historic walk around the city. We found the former AMP Insurance Society building, which can really get your heart pumping. All jokes aside, this building has historical significance. It served as Douglas McArthur's headquarters - his orders were to reassure the Australians that they would not be invaded by the Japanese. He neglected to mention that they would later be invaded by American fast food chains and Yu Gi Oh.
We were excited about Saturday night - we planned on spending several hours in a local bar watching the Grand Final footy match and rooting for the team that had the greatest support in that bar. We went back to our hotel to get ready and Amy turned on the tele. We watched with growing disappointment as the Grand Final trophy was awarded. The announcers gushed about the match. Um. Yeah. The match was over.
We eventually broke down and went to the Treasury, the nearest casino. As we were walking towards the Texas Hold'em tables, Amy turned to me and said "Have you noticed that no one looks like they're having fun?" I was immediately, deeply embarrassed. It's the kind of comment you desperately hope hasn't been overheard, sort of like making a joke about jihad as you're passing through airport security. I looked around to make sure that she hadn't been overheard. Luck was with us. "Gambling isn't about fun," I whispered. "It's about sticking it to the man. It's about addiction and compulsion. Now give me all of our money." Just joking of course. Amy didn't have our money. Anyway, there were ATMs handily sprinkled around the casino - right next to tiny placards that read gamble responsibly. You know, because the casino cares. Just like CBS, McDonald's, and Philip Morris.
Well, we stuck it to the man. We left with $10 of their money. Who says penny slots doesn't pay? First round is on me when we get back (assuming there's only two of us).
We were also able to take a publicity photo of Amy in the hopes that she might get a guest spot on Ghost Whisperer or Crossing Over (I forget which one is supposed to be real).
