reflections

I apologize for being M.I.A once again!  It's been a whirlwind around here for the past couple of weeks with family members graduating! As I mentioned here, our four day trip to Dallas for the graduation of Will's little brother was immediately followed by the arrival of my cousin, Rita, her mum and mum's boyfriend: all celebrating Rita's graduation from Illinois' Bradley University by relaxing and touring the country before returning home to Kazakhstan.

I met Rita for the first time (in my conscious, adult life) in 2012 - shortly after she'd moved to Illinois for her studies - when she came to stay with Will and I in Atlanta over Christmas.  Of course we've known of each other our whole lives (just as I know of many other relatives) and used to play together as children in the city of Almaty, Kazakhstan, where we were all born.  But those memories had long faded and I grew up feeling estranged from them all, often discussing with my brother how simply knowing of family or calling them thus, doesn't stir any of that associated warmth within.  I always felt much closer to Will's family who I saw constantly when we lived in Atlanta and with whom laughter, experiences and help of any nature were often exchanged. Now I'm truly grateful for the chance I've been given to get to know Rita and her mum, my aunty Natasha.  To experience a connection of that long estranged part of me, my relatives in Kazakhstan and to be able, for the first time, to really mean the word family in reference to them!

I remember how I felt when Rita had left after her first visit with us.  Strange that I feel it all over again.  It's some kind of sadness, loss and emptiness... with the faintest flame burning deep in my rib cage, of hope for the future.  I know meeting her and her mum was a wonderful thing!  Our friendship and strengthened family ties are unbreakable and the world seems somehow smaller now that we have somewhere else we are welcome to visit.  But I'm plagued with a few aching questions that swim around my otherwise presently hollow skull over and over... just as they did before: what if my parents had never moved to Australia?  What if I had grown up in Almaty?  What would have become of our family?  What would have become of me?

Our political and civil convictions are so different to theirs!  Our dispositions are so relaxed and carefree that surely we appear ignorant and lazy.  They seem more educated and worldly than us, yet we seem more at peace and happy.  Free from social pressure, free to live without judgement.  I know our way of life is as puzzling to them as theirs appears to us; yet the love, the bond of blood and history is so strong that I swear there were moments I was with them that I felt a closeness I've never felt with anyone. If we'd stayed in Kazakhstan with them, would the gaping holes my father, mother, brother and I each have inside of us even be there?  Surrounded by all that family and all that love, how could they have formed?

Dad's hole begun to form after a couple of years and several attempts to translate his qualifications that would allow him to practice medicine in Australia failed.  An inferior job status and male ego caused that hole to expand for years until finally defeat kicked in.  He has never been happy with his job.  Mum's hole was caused immediately by cultural difference, bitter loneliness, un-relatability and cruel distance away from the very family bond I'm just now beginning to understand.  She was lucky with her job.  As for my brother and I, our holes are of a different nature: holes caused by not understanding our Soviet parents as we turned into the Australians they did not understand.  Holes that would have been filled by acceptance and being able to relate to one-another.  Each of our holes have, in varying degrees, impacted so much of our lives.

It's beyond tough, moving overseas.  Now that I'm older and have done so myself, I can understand it much better than I ever did before.  But I wonder, if we'd remained in Kazakhstan, would my parents' marriage have survived their explosive arguments, when each actually had somewhere else to go every time either one threatened to leave?  Would my dad have made it to the height of his profession, as was always his dream, or would he have been utterly shattered if he had failed? Would my mother have been happy with all the constant bickering between her husband and her family?  Would my brother have met a woman who cares for him as much as his wife does now?  How would I be different? Would I be in a career I hated with no means to change?  Would I have found happiness in marriage?  Would I have met a bestfriend that utterly completes me, the way Emma does? Perhaps we'd have different holes, watching our family and friends struggle financially and professionally, maybe would we have struggled too...

I know I never would have met Will.  My chest tightens at the thought of a life without him - the thought of a different life in which I am not grateful 1,000 times a day as I am now!  Without puppies, or writing, travel or all of the other wonderful things I've successfully filled my own hole up with over the years and with Will's help. Even if soul mates somehow find their way together regardless of circumstance (like in Sliding Doors!), I cannot envision Will falling in love with me if my political convictions were like my cousin Rita's. Convictions that are surely a result of upbringing, society and individual experience.  Had I remained close to Rita growing up, it figures that we have thought somewhat alike.

Political opinions matter so much in relationships.  Not just between a man and a woman, they matter between families and friendships too.  I do not talk of my own convictions often.  In my life, I've walked upon three radically different political fences and I have strongly come to distrust them all.  My earliest childhood memories involve a communist lifestyle: no running water in the house, lining up for hours in front of shops to buy groceries only to be told they had none or we'd missed out and not knowing a single person with a car because they were impossible to get (unless you were KGB, of course).  Next was the 'democracy' of Australia that anyone who understands socialism would agree is in fact closer to the truth.  And now, the capitalist America which bares hardly any difference to socialist Australia.

Once you delve past our similar qualities of free-spirit-ness, determination, love of adventure and nature: it's plain to see that Rita's political and civil convictions are almost opposite to my own.  On more than one occasion I have felt that my own opinions are perceived as ignorant, indifferent or lazy.  I will not argue my opinions because I don't see the point, but Rita enjoys to and I've often wondered whether this is a cultural difference since I know many Aussies (and Americans too actually) that wont as well.  I was raised in a system that harbours deep distrust of government, the parties, representatives and agendas in a country that (for the most part) regards politics as impolite dinner conversation, since it's not worth getting upset over something you cannot change.  I wonder if we'd stayed in Kazakhstan, would I believe I could make a change?  Would I openly discuss politics at a dinner table with a nice bottle of wine, as if I may be heard or as if my personal opinion matters in any small way?

My parents have 'relaxed' a lot in Australia.  A concept which is foreign to many in this world but important to Aussies and Americans a like.  Politically, they no longer get worked up over governmental scams, games and deceit.  In a cultural sense, they are no longer shocked by invitations to BBQ's that require bringing one's own meat.  They still (and perhaps always will) remove their shoes upon entering anyone's house and never visit empty handed.  But they are happy to switch off the telly during a political debate and call them all 'a bunch of wankers.'  No doubt shocking to my cousin, yet completely the norm for me.

It's scary to consider the unknown.  What would have happened to me if we'd stayed in Kazakhstan, a country and family I know so little about?  We left when I was young and it was still communist, so I've always assumed we left because it was bad.  Now I realize that isn't true.  The country of my birth boasts many beautiful places and a booming economy.  While it is true that I seem happier to myself than my dear, sweet cousin Rita (despite her being surrounded by the family that I've never had but always wanted) I think she would be just as afraid considering the thought 'what would have happened to me if my parents had moved me to Australia with Lena's family?'

I'm sad that she's gone.  Once more I feel like a part of me is missing and as I reflect upon our differences, I feel grateful as well.  I am grateful to my parents for my upbringing, even if it did create a huge divide between us and often cause friction.  I'm grateful I got to wear and say and do and be everything I wanted, whenever I wanted with carefree friends just as silly as me.  I'm grateful for those life experiences, mistakes and triumphs that lead to my meeting Will who then took me to America, where I have overcome many personal struggles and can now sit with a coffee, after a day's work doing exactly what I love and contemplate the what if questions of my life.  Above all else right now, I'm grateful to Rita, Aunty Natasha and her boyfriend for a wonderful three days that created a bond of family I will feel for the rest of my life and all of their differences which will make me more open minded and curious about the country I was born in.

long distance birthdays

#145073671 / gettyimages.com

Emma turns 30 today.  A few days ago it was my older brother who turned 30 and his weekend-long celebrations kicked off last night.  As if that wasn't enough for me to miss out on: in just a few short weeks, my best friend from high school (Sandra) is getting married to the man of her dreams - a man who must be unlike any other to be able to snare a girl as picky and free spirited as her.  A man I've never met.

I'm missing it all.

I feel strangely hollow sitting here, in my usual spot before the computer: coffee at hand and dogs at my feet.  The sun is spilling gloriously into the living room, which smells of fresh apples (thanks to my new Scensy Warmer!) and wildlife is at its most active.  All these things usually bring me joy, but aren't having that affect this morning.  For the first time in a long time, I'm homesick.

I sent presents to Emma and my bro weeks ago and because they arrived on time, I've already had the pleasure of receiving photographs of them been worn or enjoyed.  I've spoken to Emma, bro and Sandra recently and exchanged assurances of being thought of and missed as usual, but today it doesn't seem like enough.  Today, like a big baby, I just want my big brother!  To laugh and joke with in the sense of humour that we alone out of the entire world share.  To just zone out on the couch with a movie and annoy him by talking way too much through it: something I haven't enjoyed since 2011!  Today I want to touch my best friend Emma and give her the customary, celebratory scalp massage that became tradition all those years ago.  And god damn it I want to have a cocktail with Sandra and watch her eyes light up as she talks of her groom, the extravagant one-of-a-kind wedding that they're planning at Brisbane's hottest club and that jaw-dropping gown that's guaranteed to floor her guests.

Her guests.  One of which I will not be.  This shatters me today.

I don't know why I feel this way today, amidst the most social fortnight I've had since moving to Austin, I find myself suddenly yearning for home.  Australia home - not Atlanta home.  It's bloody hilarious that now I think Austin is great and it's getting easier for me to not miss Atlanta anymore I find myself wanting to go home to Australia more than I have in YEARS!

I'm feeling fed up with 'catching up' and photos of cakes, drinks, laughs!  I want to be the one eating the cake, making the drinks, providing the laughs (well for my bro anyway, since no one else gets me).  On occasions like weddings and 30th birthdays, I want to be there in the midst of it all - not toasting to their health from a distance.

My heart hurts today.

It makes no difference that the sun is shining after almost a week of rain, or how heavenly the room smells.  Even if a local whitetailed stag (that I'm usually obsessed with) walked straight into my living room right now.  None of it matters today.  It doesn't change the fact that there's an ocean between me and all I care about.

z is (predictably) for zoo

pink flamingos, Atlanta zoo

Stay with me here, yes 'zoo' for letter 'Z' is a predictable topic but it's one that I feel should be mentioned and (hopefully) discussed!  My first impression of zoos in America has been somewhat disappointing.  Although I've only visited two zoos: one in Dallas and one in Atlanta; I have conducted a little research (Google search) on zoos throughout the country and can safely declare my reason for being disappointed: most of the animals aren't even American!

giraffe and zebra at Atlanta Zoo

As the cartoon Madagascar honestly portrayed, every "New Yorker from Central Park" animal was actually African.  Sure: giraffes, lions and hippopotamuses are extraordinary to look at and my goodness the gorilla enclosure in Atlanta is simply divine, but where are the native animals? The bison?  The bald eagles, the moose and wolves?  When I visited an American zoo, I expected to see some native American animals, yet aside from some bird, deer and reptile types - they were all foreign.

rattlesnake, Atlanta zoo

I recently read somewhere (forgive me for being vague) that it's considered cruel keeping a bear in captivity because they become very depressed and moody, often lashing out at carers and viewers.  But isn't this true of all intelligent mammals?  I've heard orcas get the same way and yet they are still kept in tanks.  How can it be considered cruel toward one species and not others?  And if bears cannot be kept in a zoo - what about other native animals?  Are all American animals incapable of captivity?  It makes no sense to me, especially when other animals are transported half way across the world to be enclosed.

gorilla in Atlanta zoo

During this A-Z challenge, my topic has been America from an outsider's perspective and through it, I know I've raised controversial questions and frequently compared it to my own country, Australia.  Permit me to this one last time and just say with utter certainty: Aussie zoos are better!  This is simply because when you visit an Australian zoo, you will see every native animal you've ever read or heard about - from the platypus and wombat to the emu and koala bear.  Often, there'll be an elephant and some zebras too but somehow they are never the main event.  Surely when people visit the USA they would like to see native animals too?  Don't get me wrong, I'll not going to stop visiting them, I love zoos and seeing all kinds of animals make me happy!  But my wish is to see a real moose up close.  A bald eagle would be nice too.

#138596308 / gettyimages.com

Thank you for joining me on this A-Z adventure.  I apologize for blogging a little late at times this past week - I've had some doggy / computer drama at home but it's all good now :)  I've really enjoyed meeting everyone and becoming part of your networks or having you become a part of mine.  I hope we can all stay in touch and catch up again soon!

t is for tradition

Anzac Square Brisbane.  The Shrine of Remembrance and Eternal Flame

In many ways Australia and America, both being christian countries, celebrate the same things and have similar holidays.  But there are a few Australian traditions I miss dreadfully.  Anzac day, celebrated on 25th April, (which incidentally is today over there), being the major one because of so many sentimental reasons: it's the Australian and New Zealand Army Corps day and a time when the entire nation stands still in commemoration and gratitude.  The parades, the speeches, the haunting sound of the bugle, the silence and the memories of one beloved Anzac soldier together with love for my close friends still serving to this day, will always and forever keep this day sacred to me.

At a Remembrance Parade and Ceremony, Anzac Square in 2012

Will, paying his respects

Melbourne Cup is another tradition I miss.  Of course the actual event is larger than life and the city gets a holiday, but no matter where you are in Australia on that day, you are expected to participate.  Ladies get dolled up in elaborate dresses, hats and jewels; men wear suits and off they go to work where they are undoubtedly greeted by a table of food and drink, underneath the biggest TV the organizers could find.  This is where, for the duration of the race, you will find most Aussies on Melbourne cup day.  Placing bets, screaming, laughing, crying, eating and drinking: then it's back to work as usual.

clowning around at the local races (not the actual Mel.Cup)

The Aussie tradition of Easter is different too.  For a nation that thinks bigger is better, America has definitely missed the Aussie-Easter-egg memo.  Our Easter eggs (and chocolate rabbits) are HUGE and I'd never quite given up searching for one of those traditional head-sized ones I always got in Aus, until this year.  I disparagingly gave up hope when one of the bloggers I follow (another Aussie ex-pat living in the States as well) wrote this post about how American Easter eggs are plastic and full of candy VS Aussie ones that are almost always chocolate: sometimes with candy inside; sometimes simply (deliciously) as large as a football.  It used to take me a week to eat my traditional present-from-the-parents egg, but that's how I liked it!

One American tradition that I have embraced with all my heart is Thanksgiving.  Never mind how it started, or what caused it in the first place, I think giving thanks is a wonderful concept!  Traditions are undoubtedly things that vary between families, but in America everyone celebrates Thanksgiving in some capacity and it's my favourite of Will's family's celebrations too.  Nobody goes around saying what they're thankful for but I like to sit back and make metal notes while Uncle Sean stirs butter into the mashed potatoes, Aunt Amy pours martinis, grandpa mutes the TV so that he can hear what we're all gossiping about in a 'subtle' way, grandma fusses over who's not eating... and bookmark all those moments forever in my memories that live in the thankful side of my brain.

One of the things I love most about Will's family (and something I hope remains a tradition), is how they can take a public holiday like Thanksgiving and turn it into a week-long celebration.  The women call each other to find out what we're all drinking, who's bringing what to the table and what we're wearing a week in advance.  Then we all 'conveniently' decide we're missing an ingredient or the right outfit and that we must go shopping - as if we need an extra excuse to get together!  Despite all of our preparation and fuss, our get-togethers are never structured or on schedule.  It's always chaos, but it's real.  Will's family isn't formal, they each are completely comfortable setting vague time frames and then going with the flow.  We're always allowed to take our pups with us and they run free, scrounging for food dropped on the floor while everyone helps themselves to the fridge or pantry and argue about petty opinions or reminisce about times gone by.

j is jelly vs jam

Originally I wanted to write a 'J' post on jurisdiction - the laws and police are very different in America, but it's Friday and if you're anything like me, your mind is already on the weekend so I thought a post that was more fun and didn't require that much brain power was in order.  Hence, jam vs jelly.

If you look the word jam up in an American dictionary (or simply on American Google) it is defined as: a verb for the action of squeezing or packing tightly; another for becoming stuck; a noun synonymous with 'paper jams' in a machine or a gathering of musicians who improvise together.

While we also use all those definitions, the most common jam noun in Australia is defined as a sweet preserve made from fruit and sugar boiled to a thick consistency.  To an American, this would simply be called a preserve or (very logically) fruit spread.

mmmm chunky and spreadable

 Americans also have something called jelly: this is a type of jam/ preserve/ fruit spread that has a smooth consistency, free of any chunks whatsoever.  I don't know that there is an Aussie word for this... or even if it exists!  Perhaps it's a blasphemous concept?  Does everyone like the fruit chunks in Australia?  Hmmm...  Maybe it's like ying and yang... can't have one without the other/ can't have jam without fruit chunks!

can't spread it on bread so just eat it with a spoon,
but mmmm... so smooth

Moving on, in Australia jelly is a flavoured gelatin dessert, most commonly fruit flavoured.  And that's what Americans call Jello.  I seriously can't talk about jelly vs jello without thinking of the iconic JELLY ad in Australia (one that every Aussie kid knows at least as well as the Happy Little Vegemite ad).

Ahh memories!  Well I'm off, hope  you enjoyed this little bit of nonsense and hope you have a great weekend!

g is for geography

America's geography has to be the most diverse in the world!  The collection of plants and animals is surely the most unique since natives happily coexist with ones introduced from Europe and Africa.  Perhaps this is possible because of the diverse landscape.  Here in America you will find deserts, mountains, beaches, thick forests, rain forests and all manner of fields necessary to sustain life.  It's wonderful to explore and mind-blowing that the seasons and landscapes vary so dramatically from north to south, east to west.  You could almost be in different countries!

FL Pensacola Beach

TX desert

MI marshland

GA farmland in the mountains 

FL Pensacola Bay

Cities in America are laid out differently to the rest of the world.  In most places (Australia included), States have capital cities and these are the cultural, social and business center points of each State.  These capitals contain the Central Business Districts (CBDs) where all major businesses have headquarters, all major shopping, dining, nightlife, parks, botanical gardens, landmarks, entertainment and so on!  Everything in one location that's easy to walk around in or take a very effective mode of public transport to.  To say 'city' in Australia means the capital.  In America this isn't the case.

Firstly, American capital cities are not always central cultural hubs nor do they always have a CBD.  In the case of Texas - its capital is Austin but Dallas is much larger with a greater skyline and many more businesses.  In the case of Georgia, Atlanta is the capital but despite a massive CBD, has virtually no nightlife or shopping in the city itself!  Chicago and New York City bare the closest resemblance to Australian-style capital cities but despite being two of the largest and most popular cities in America, neither are actually the capital of their State!

Secondly, Americans call their suburbs cities and and their zones counties - each one independently ran and taxed, unlike Australia where many suburbs are grouped into one zone.  Therefore in most cases, each individual suburb has its own CBD complete with office headquarters, major shops, theaters, restaurants, art galleries, landmarks, nightlife etc.  I've met many people who rarely leave their suburbs since they contain everything they could ever want. Mechanics? Check. Hardware? Check.  Furniture? Check.  Pet supplies? Covered. Medical centers? Yep! Salons? You betcha! Everything is close by.

American housing estates are also built quite differently - many incorporating walking trails, swimming pools, community/ recreational centers that are complete with tennis/ basketball courts and gyms, covered in resident's monthly HOAs for unlimited use: it's all about convenience!

Lastly, American public transport SUCKS!  Chicago and Austin seem like the only cities attempting to fix this problem.  Everywhere else (NYC included) trains and buses move in straight lines throughout small sections of the cities, making reaching an actual destination almost impossible.  And honestly, there's a 'only poor people get public transport' mentality everywhere so most Americans never even bother with it.

I like the American suburbia style a lot but I miss 'going into the city' where I could disembark at a convenient train station, take a historic tour, eat an exotic cuisine from a restaurant representing any country in the world, walk the museum or art gallery, shop 'til I drop and then end the day with a relaxing latte at the botanical garden cafe, all in one central location!

Me in Brisbane Aus, next to the very efficient bus terminal
(that everyone uses!)

f is for fishing

Both Australia and America have housing estates built around (or containing within) a man-made body of water.  Forest Lake is a great Queensland (Aus) example and Peachtree City is an excellent one from Georgia (USA).   The difference is that if you grabbed a fishing rod (pole) in Australia and headed down to the lake/ pond in your suburb, people would think you were insane.  Here in the US however whenever a suburb has a body of water, its council will actually stock it with various types fresh water fish and create an eco-system where they will live and grow until you fish them out!  So it's not uncommon to see people sitting around these lakes/ ponds near their house, fishing.

What Americans do with their fish is beyond me... as I mentioned in my e is for eating post, nobody cooks so I can't figure it out.  But to me the simple idea of being able to fish so close to the house is very appealing and relaxing.

Here are some photos from one of my visits to a pond in Peachtree City, where a sand crane grabs a fish for lunch out of the water:

There were people fishing too but it would have felt wrong to photograph randoms just to make a point.  You will all just have to take my word for it :)  Below are some photos of other wildlife that coexist in neighbourhood bodies of water in Peachtree City GA USA:

Crane and Canadian geese (on left)

Close up of the Canadian geese and regular variety (left)

They're rather tame!  My dad got pretty close

These guys (squirrels) are everywhere <3 

c is for coffee

acupofcoffeeandamuse.blogspot.com

C has to be about coffee because unless you love percolated (drip) coffee, it may be difficult to find decent coffee in  the States.  When I lived in Australia, social occasions usually involved coffee.  Basically every time I left the house I would buy a latte but I never realized this until I couldn't anymore.  Many of my Aussie friends that visit America have this same problem.  I can't speak for the Northern States because I had very nice coffee in both New York and Chicago but in the South, you're really hard pressed to get a decent cup of coffee!

Hotels, restaurants, even most cafe's only serve the drip variety that I don't like the taste of and which is prone to inducing my heartburn in about 20secs.  The only place you're guaranteed to get real coffee (by Australian standards) is Starbucks! You might be lucky to find a European style cafe or a restaurant with an espresso machine but generally speaking: no way Jose'.

teecino.com

Other coffee related tid-bits:

- In America a cappuccino don't have chocolate powder on top, therefore are basically (what Aussies call) a flat white

- Lattes have a lot of foam on top so essentially are flat whites as well

- A long black is called a 'cafe Americano' 

- Percolated coffee is called 'drip coffee' (as mentioned above) but the term percolated is rarely used.  In fact, percolators themselves are simply called 'coffee pots' - got a few puzzled looks when I called it a percolator!)

- Instant coffee is very frowned upon and non-existent for the most part.  Every American has a peculator coffee pot in their kitchen and most have never heard of the instant variety.

- The skim milk Aussies call 'skinny' is very logically called 'no/ low fat' here (more puzzled looks)

- and milk used for coffee is not plain milk as back in Aus.  It's usually 'half and half' (which is 1/2 cream, 1/2 milk) and very fatty.  Asking for 'milk' in your coffee = puzzled looks
Asking for a white coffee = even more puzzled looks!

b is for bugs

Ok so maybe at this point you're thinking: aren't you Australian?  Don't you come from the country that has more deadly critters than anywhere else in the world? Well, yes I am and that's exactly why I have to do this post!  Australian critters get a bad wrap because they're deadlier but I must say they're almost cute in comparison to some of America's bugs!  I want to take this chance to talk about the American bugs that I've personally come across and briefly mention the vast difference in pesticide use.

Tarantula:

Let me start by saying, despite seeing the deadly 'terrifying' redbacks on an almost daily basis in QLD, nothing has scared me more than seeing a tarantula! It was in the desert over Christmas when I encountered one and I remember how my chest seized at the sight of it!  At least the size of my hand, complete with thick and clearly visible hairs!  EW I can't even write this without cringing. I guess everything is bigger in the US...

the exact one we saw! the 'rio grande gold' pic thanks to thehibbitts.net

Which brings me to: the daddy long legs!  

Actually here they're called grand-daddy long legs and they're bigger than Aussie ones as well as DISGUSTING!  Australian ones are very unoffensive (and seriously cute) in comparison.

pic thanks to templebiomimetics.com

Next has to be scorpions.  

I'm oddly not as grossed out by these and almost feel proud that I've had a personal encounter - once again in the desert over Christmas.  These guys are somehow entrancing to watch (from a distance of course), the most beautiful of all the insects (or are they spiders...?)

the 'Arizona bark' that we saw, pic from wikipedia.com

Chiggers:

The next bug I have to mention is one that I've only recently become aware of, since a colony of them have made themselves at home on our outdoor dining table!  They're called chiggers and can be equivocated to Aussie sandflies but again, are WAY more disgusting.  These guys are the size of a tick but look and act like crabs!  Luckily they're bright red and easy to spot - their one redeeming quality.  They burrow into your flesh and lay eggs that then hatch and eat their way out - all the while causing irritation, unbearable itch and sometimes infections or allergic reactions.

pic from chigarid.com

Then there's ticks.  

American ticks are different to Aussie ones - and there are more common varieties.  So far I've seen four different types - the deer tick (which is giant), the white grass tick (which grows to the size of a grape but fills with white liquid as it sucks your red blood? (Go figure) and makes you nauseated), the cayenne tick (has a star on it's back) and lastly a microscopic sized black tick that even when full of blood is only the size of a grain of salt (these guys were all over Baxter's snout once - I counted more than 60!).

Hornets.  

No more needs to be said here - other than plenty of people are allergic to these scary giants.

Just like the ones I used to see in Atlanta!
pic from theextinctionprotocol.wordpress.com

Now about pesticides:

The most remarkable difference is the use of pesticide in domestic situations.  Back in Aus, despite the dangers that lurk, I'd never heard of anyone spraying their yard against bugs (other than fire ants) and at school we just had to live with ants that occasionally bit us on the sports ovals.  But here in America it's a very common practice to spray the crap out of every patch of grass likely to make contact with humans!  I'm talking homes, schools, city parks, even popular walkways in certain cities have pesticide warning flags billowing the beware announcements.  Nobody tries coexisting with bugs - they just eradicate them.  I prefer our Australian approach of common sense that enables people to live alongside all the world's most deadliest critters simply by shaking out shoes before putting them on or checking the undersides of outdoor furniture before taking a seat in respect and caution.

pic from raginggardeners.com

Pic thanks to myveronanj.com