Until Next Time

I cried. Hard. My excuse? Looking into the sunset for too long on my way to Auckland International Airport. It hit me like a ton of feathers; the feeling of getting your heart crushed by the most beautiful thing in the world. The situation was all too familiar, like that when I left Hawaii...the nostalgia, the confusion, wondering if it had really happened or if I was simply dreaming. I boarded the 777, an aircraft significantly smaller than the one I had originally left on, and dragged my lifeless body to seat 47C. I was immediately, monotonously greeted by an overweight older gentleman, breathing heavily, sitting in my seat. His wife casually leaned over and told me he had claustrophobia issues, and asked if I could squish my 5'11" body toward the window seat. Something New Zealand has taught me? "No worries". I sat down, but was moved yet again. I can't complain this time around...I had two seats to myself. Epic win.

I was pushed around, scolded, and scoffed at as soon as my goofy, relief ridden smile exited the plane. I would have never thought reverse culture shock actually existed, but I was taken back, disappointed, and utterly determined to make good use of the 10 hour layover I had. I hopped a bus to Santa Monica, long board in hand with a desire to live the typical California dream. The bus broke down half way to the pier (of course), and we were redirected to another stop along the way. The couple next to me rolled up a blunt on the side of the road, whipped out a brown paper bag, and kindly asked me if I cared to join them for a smoke and drink. I declined, completely sketched out and eagerly wishing the new bus would come around. It was from that moment on I realized that Los Angeles is truly a strange, strange place....the wide-eyed staring, the random questions, the street performers. Quite a sight. Despite the oddity that ensued throughout the afternoon, I managed to make it to the beach and sleep on top of my long board, waking up sunburned, revitalized, and unfamiliar with my surroundings. It's as if I'm living one vivid dream after another, my body never flinching to return me back to reality. I drained the life out of my iPod, playing everything and anything that would remotely reflect the mood I was in. It's dead.

I'm in the airport, desperate for a tube of toothpaste, staring at the departure screen as my flight continues to be delayed later, and later. The destination flashes obnoxiously, sending me on a wild goose chase to find the right gate. I'll have to check again soon, being that Washington Dulles is staring me in the face. I don't want to go to Washington. I heard it's raining in New York. Quaint.

I hereby declare this portion of my life 'closed'. It's been real.

Over and Out

I can see for miles. Every mountain peak, every leafless tree, the vast stretch of a turquoise harbor. The air is light, crisp, and the sun radiant. I've never seen a more clear day in my entire life. The atmosphere feels so thin that I'm afraid we'll all be sucked into the vacuum of space. I've been looking outside, pretending that the sunlit, white apartment buildings were something out of Santorini, their harsh reflections sitting proud above the dead, winter ground. I'm not sure if I should smile, or cry, or search around my brain for a sensible emotion to reflect what's going on around me. My room is empty, the stark white walls have returned full circle, and two massive luggage bags beckon to be throw in the belly of a plane. I arrived in New Zealand yesterday, or that's what I like to think when I'm completely out of touch with reality. It has been four and a half months. Someone liquefied this country, poured it in my mouth, forced to me to swallow, and then proceeded to shake my head violently until I could no longer walk. Have you ever dreamt in a dream? You wake up to some alternate world, grateful that you're no longer sleeping, but come to the sick realization that you're in fact, still sleeping? New York is going to smack me in the face, dump cold water on my head, and blow an air horn right in my ear to wake me. It's that moment that I fear the most.

As would anyone who spent a few months in a place other than 'home', I have absolutely no words to describe this experience. I've felt emotions that I never knew could exist, my life flipped upside down. A desperate attempt to be in full control of a double life, the one I left behind in New York, and the one that I'm about to leave here in Auckland. I've been saying goodbye all day; my words feel so hollow. I'm convinced I've been an empty mass of flesh and bones for the past few hours, tear ducts completely unresponsive, my conscious thinking about nothing more than how I'm too lazy to take out the trash. It just sits there on the floor, staring me in the face. Screw it, I'll leave it for tomorrow.

Honestly, I'm afraid of home. A lot has changed. My old daily routines will no longer exist, friends have jobs, new lives, and I'll be sitting behind a desk wondering how to occupy myself through means of emotional stability. However, the smell of barbecue, the heavy summer breeze, the greenery, the shorts...my entertainment.

It's all over before it ever began. I'll never be able to live this moment again. My feet are cold, the sun is setting, the ceiling clings to a single birthday balloon, and I'm completely alone. This is the last time I'll see the sun duck below the horizon in this place. This tiny country, its oddly distributed population, the white sail of a boat loudly presenting itself against the bright, blue harbor. I'm still stuck in this damn staring contest, the past challenged me and I gladly accepted. Those tear ducts would come in handy right about now.

Rain.

I was fortunate enough to have my mom and aunt come visit me in Auckland. I snuck on the elevator, hit floor four, got out, and tapped rhythmically on the hotel door. I was greeted with hugs and kisses and my mother's characteristic cry of happiness. We would be heading up north for the weekend, attempting to escape the cold and rain that has been looming over Auckland for the past month. Luckily enough, the clouds parted, and the sun was shining not more than 40 miles outside of the city. We drove up toward the Bay of Islands (as pictured above), and ran around to Paihia, Matakohe, and Whangerei. Despite the hourly long sessions in the car believing my life was going to end in a fiery crash off a cliff side, the trip was, well, good. It was really nice seeing my mom; I'm so proud that she conjured up the guts to sit her fearful butt on a plane for 22+ hours.

Saw this bad boy solidified in a substance called Kauri Gum, from the great Kauri trees in the forest of Waipoura.

Anyway, I woke up this morning to blaring speakers, hundreds of voices, and police sirens. Despite not wanting to glance out my window due to the horrific weather that we've been having, I peeked out and saw hundred of protesters (maybe), marching down the street with signs and megaphones. They chanted in Maori, held their umbrellas, and proudly made their way down the soaked cement. I've noticed that people here will protest with the protection of the police, rather than getting beaten and tear gassed. The individuals in this 'walk' held a giant sign reading, "Our city, our rights. No supercity with us! Us! Us!" I've noticed that no matter where I go, people from New Zealand hate Auckland. They despise its infrastructure and superstructure, calling it just another city in which "Just Another Fucking Aucklander" resides. I'm absolutely terrible at keeping up with current events at home, none the less in a country whose past is completely unfamiliar to me. I wasn't exactly sure about the reasoning behind this 'protest', but my guess would have to be the lack of Maori representation and voice in the New Zealand parliament. I'll find out eventually.

I've recently come to the conclusion that I'm probably going to be a crazy cat lady when I'm older, except without the cats. Odds are you'll find me in a shack, with my great dane, Shelby, babbling monotonously to the walls. I love planning out my future as a desperate, single woman. Cheers!

Oh, cellular telephone apparatus.

Today I woke up early to the sun coming through my window. It hasn't been around much, as Auckland's been plagued with black clouds and rain for the past few weeks. I briefly sat outside to feel the heat of the sun on my face, absorbing what little time it may have left before the clouds move in again. After that I did something funny, I mean, not completely bizarre; something out of sheer curiosity. The joy I would get from this moment pulled the corners of my mouth to my ears. It's stupid...no, it really is...but I took out my cellphone from the states and plugged it into the wall, hearing that ridiculous Verizon start up tone. I grinned. I had no idea what my intentions were at this point, so I continued to scroll through the options menu, play with the once familiar ring tones, and best of all, view old text messages. At this point, I was grinning uncontrollably. Of all things, how could a cellphone put a smile on my face not more than 15 minutes after I woke up? Then I started to realize the familiarity of the object...how much of home was stored in its ridiculously small memory, the phone numbers of people who I thought I'd forgotten, and I continued to smile. Reading the text message conversations right before I left for Auckland brought back fleeting memories of saying goodbye, the sick mix of excitement and anguish, the overall feeling of blindly tossing my rattling bones into a new place, and I continued to smile. My tear ducts unknowingly welled up as things went slightly blurry for not more than a few seconds, and I continued to smile. How can such a thing make someone feel this way? I knew at that point that things would only get worse. If I decided to hold onto that piece of home longer, I would have surely broken down; every drop of homesickness pouring from my eyes. So, I shut it off, tossed it in the draw, and shared the bizarre stream of emotions that came with the simplicity of a cellphone.

Someone tell me if I'm losing it.

This past weekend was the ball...an excuse to get dressed up, drink in a beautiful hotel, and dance to live music. It was, sure enough, a ball. Pre-destination apartment party:

...And we're back.

If only I could begin to explain what the past month and a half has been like. I've felt as if I traveled the world, north to south, east to west, and have seen everything this floating lump has to offer. Reality is, I've remained in the same country I came to not longer than 12 weeks ago. Thinking of time in the span of 'weeks' as opposed to 'months' tends to elongate my already sub-par sense of reality. I sit here desperately trying to share what I've been doing, what I already have done, and what I plan to do, but I can't seem to formulate sentences that will substantially tackle the issue of explaining what's been going on in my life. I spoiled myself rotten for a month, having the pleasure of waking up next to Greg every morning...a small reminder of home. We traveled quite a significant amount in our 5x12 corridor on wheels, leaving our mark on over 2000 miles of South Island highway. To make things simple (for myself), an easy summary would consist of the words 'we', 'did', and 'a lot'. Encountered a stray penguin, jumped off a ledge with nothing but rubber bands attached to our legs, tore it up with heavy machinery on winding trails, ate shit hard on a rope swing (okay that was just me), slept in beautiful locations...blah blah blah blah. I miss that small fantasy; the feeling of reliving the same great dream over and over again, having an important part of your life show up in a city 8000 miles from home. I was frightened about the thought of 'waking up'; the immediate, relentless panic of having something disappear in an instant, and it did. That 27th day, when that stupid blue bus drove up to the curb without muttering a single sound from its engine, was when my sick fabrication of life vanished. Not more than three sentences were spoken before he left...startling as the sound of an alarm clock on a Saturday morning. Reality came out of left field with a hard right hook to my jaw. As soon as I grow used to something, it disappears. My revenge? Scoffing at that bus as its unwelcome presence glides down the road. Every day.

Let's resume. Droning lecturers, power points, feasibility studies, mini exams...Auckland. I'm not as happy as I should be. Kate, you're in New Zealand, people would kill for that. I just can't hold on to that fleeting feeling of contentedness. When you find yourself playing psychiatrist in your room on a Sunday night at 11:00, homesickness has surely reared its head. It scares me knowing that I'm on the trip of a lifetime and I've completely lost interest in everything I do. I've lost the spark. I'm counting down the days until I can again endure the miserable 23 hour trip half way across the planet. I want to wake up somewhere familiar. Feel my grey, concrete life beneath my feet again. Enjoy the heat radiating in my room from a warm, summer morning, throwing my clothes off, and getting under the sheets again with a smile on my face. It's cliche, but being far removed from something you thought you hated makes you appreciate it much more. That's how I feel with just about everything right now.

Enough of my yammering. What a cheerful post. When you don't have anyone to talk to, it's easiest to run your mouth off via HTML. This whole 8 hour time difference thing is screwing with my sanity.

If you want more, just check out photos at http://www.snapfish.com/, user name knettesheim@email.lynn.edu, password newzealand.

Acceleration.

I've been a horrible blogger. I was so dedicated. I've been so distracted. The weather has been non-stop stunning, as with every day autumn is creeping closer and closer. Let's just say I should have been keeping tabs on my daily adventures, being that something strange/humorous/noteworthy has been consistently occurring. Unfortunately, my absent mind has forgotten much of the past week. I'll attempt to mend the debris of my memory. Ladies and gentleman, I give you, the list. Short, yet fairly to the point.

1. Helped a kid earn 20 dollars from his mates by riding a tandem bicycle and making an ass out of myself.

2. Saw a dangerously high unicycle being rode by a man in a bathing suit down a crowded beach.

3. Met many intoxicated Kiwis around a fire; they proceeded to beat each other senseless.

4. This guy. Casually drinking at bar near the harbor.

5. Experienced 5G's at 200kph in 2 seconds.

6. Experienced 5G's at 200kph in 2 seconds.

7. Did I mention I experienced 5G's at 200kph in 2 seconds?

For only $40 NZD, you can feel like an astronaut (minus the whole prolonged feeling of nausea and potential unconsciousness at lift-off). There's something frightening about catapulting straight up attached to nothing but a seemingly thin elastic band. Catapulting your way straight toward the ground is another thing. I felt this was necessary to prepare myself both mentally and physically for this: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ckym6W3t5kQ

Can you dig?

Plans.

This country is so beautiful, that sometimes I think my head is going to explode. My brain feels over worked from trying to process everything I'm seeing and doing on a day to day basis. I just got back from yet another amazing road trip in the Coromandel area. Despite our one day of rain and trek through the thick mud in our bare feet, it was stunning. Our Kiwi friend, Sheri, was kind enough to show us some of the most incredible and unknown areas on the peninsula. A 45 minute hike at dusk up steep rooted trails and rocky terrain eventually brought us to a small house on a huge hill overlooking the pacific ocean. Its plywood interior and 6 bunk beds made the group's hearts flutter, being that we had spent the previous night on a beach in a rainstorm. My bleeding, sore, bruised feet meant nothing after I had a look at the view from the front lawn....

It was stunning. Greens, blues, inclines, rolling hills, anything you could find in that picture of a place you've pointed at and said, "I need to go there before I die." The best part was knowing we could get down to that beach and be 8 of few who would show up. We would then be greeted by red stone walls and marbled driftwood flaunting their colors above the stark white sand. Unfortunately, we were only able to stay for a short while being that the van was to be back in Auckland by 4:30 that afternoon. We still managed to bring it back 2 hours late.

Prior to our visit to this beach, we met up with Sheri's foster grandmother and grandfather, who were kind enough to let us use their facilities to shower off the dampness and sand from our night on the beach. After we had all cleaned up, we sat in their den for awhile chatting about life. Her foster grandfather made some extremely poignant remarks regarding the quality of living and abundance of rules governing our society. After discussing our world of regulation and disdain, he simply stated, "trees were meant for climbing," and "we change for the sake of change, not for improvement." Although these statements may seem unimportant and meaningless to those reading this entry, they resounded in the heads of all of us at the time we heard them. There was something about sitting in a complete strangers living room, looking wide-eyed toward a big brown recliner in which the older man sat, that made the moment much more significant. I won't forget those words.

We spent that rainy night on Cook's Beach singing songs around a campfire, telling stories, laughing, and tripping over tent ropes. Sometimes I force myself to step outside the moment and observe who and what is around me; the moment becomes much more meaningful and time slows down. When you're in a place like New Zealand, it becomes necessary to do these things for the full effect.

This was before our hike to Cathedral Cove. It was cold, wet, rainy, and absolutely beautiful. Once again, it was us vs. nature. We still don't know who won.

As of today, I think my plans for the Easter break are pretty solid. Greg and I are going to travel to the South Island and explore areas like Queenstown and Milford Sound via camper van. I've heard so many wonderful things about the South Island, from its extreme adrenaline junkie reputation to its beautiful landscapes. I personally can't wait to bungee jump off the second highest platform in the world...or tandem skydive with an oxygen mask from 18,000 feet...or white water raft over waterfalls...you catch my drift. Knowing that this trip is only a mere 2 and a half weeks away makes me pee my pants a little. I mean that in the best way possible. If peeing your pants is cool, consider me Miles Davis.

And now for some more eye candy.

Which Way?

Look right, look left, look right. Not the other way. If you do, you're likely to get hit by a environmentally friendly bus. Note that they are not pedestrian friendly buses. Auckland has some outstanding statistics on the number of people who are killed per year by simply crossing the road. They make up for it by having obnoxious cross-walk signs and space-esque sounds. I've noticed that when walking up and down stairs, people still follow typical traffic flow. Those going down, stay to your left, and those going up, stay to your right. This has gotten me into some awkward face to face "do I cross to his/her left or right?" situations. You know, the typical chicken headed lean toward the direction that you want to go, yet the other person chooses the same path. The casual chuckle, the inevitable "I'm sorry", then continue on your way.

My finger nails look like they've been mauled by a chipmunk. My nervous habit seems to be getting worse as a result of my unfamiliarity with the surrounding environment. I sit there casually chewing away when someone leans over and warns me that I may not have a finger left by the time I'm done with it. My dreams have been getting a little out of hand too; some very realistic and others completely bizarre. Last night, for instance, I had a dream that certain someone came to visit me. I remember looking him in the face, and asking if it was a dream. Not more than five seconds later, I came to the realization that I was in fact, dreaming. Being in a dream and realizing that it is in fact, a dream, really sucks. Once you reach that point, you become determined to never leave the world of sleep. However, when you have preceding 'nightmares' of a obsessive stalker killing off your friends and family one by one, it tends to be a sigh of relief.

I've been asked heaps (a lot...Kiwi slang) for pictures of my apartment and the surrounding city. I'm yet to take my camera out on the streets, but I have taken pictures of my room and the building.

The pictures above are 1. my uncharacteristically clean room 2. the apartment complex 3. the view from our common room. I've taken a few more boring, white wall shots, but nothing really worth posting. It's a beautiful apartment and we're all extremely fortunate to have floor to ceiling windows. Light is highly valued.

Another school week has come to a close and the weekend is on the horizon. The plan is to visit Coromandel (http://www.davidwallphoto.com/images/%7B775E773E-D361-4B20-9CBB-31E7423764AD%7D.JPG), a continuation of our journeys north. We figured now would be a good time to explore beach areas, being that it is starting to get fairly chilly here in Auckland. Nights have been getting down to the high 50's, a big difference from the 78 degree weather we had upon our arrival. I feel like the temperature has undergone a dramatic change in only a day, when in fact I've been here for about 3 weeks now. I'm still yet to decide whether this semester is flying by or creeping slowly. You tend to lose your sense of time when in New Zealand. What date is it? No complaints. Come to think of it, I haven't seen one store that sells watches...

Catch you on the flip side.

Extras.

I should probably start writing these entries during the day, due to the fact that I become somewhat solemn and over conscious at night. I find myself writing more about my feelings than what I have experienced throughout the afternoon. It's not a terrible thing whatsoever, I just feel I'm lacking proper input on being in another country.

On another note, my friend Heather allowed me to upload some photos from her camera today. She has many shots of our trip to the northern tip of the island, from our night on the beach to pink sheep. Her and I have been getting along real well, playing hourly long games of volleyball in the courtyard whilst upholding the standard American 'shenanigans' many are familiar with. I remember now how much I hate to sweat, yet also how good I feel after playing a solid game. Trials for the Uni-Games continue this Wednesday...something that I've been looking forward to since last week.

Everyone has been discussing travel plans for this weekend. There are proposals of going to Hot Water Beach, a beach in which you can dig a hole that fills with natural hot spring water from the volcanic activity underneath the sand. After forming your own 'jacuzzi', the ocean is just a hop away from cooling off. The closest thing you'll get to this when in New York is if your best friend pees right next to you while your playing in the water at Robert Moses. Voila. Instant temperature change.

For now I'm just going to sit here and worry about waking up for class tomorrow morning. Although its only 1am, I feel like I could sleep for days. Pardon me, but I've got a soft shirt and a comfortable bed to curl up in.

Reminders.

There are little things here and there that hint at home. Whether they be meaningless bar fights or meaningful songs, New Zealand tosses shrapnel in your direction that you thought you left in the states. Note the use of 'shrapnel'. As much as I thought they would upset me, those small reminders are what get me through the day.

I went to my first rugby match yesterday evening. Eden Park (the name of the stadium) was packed with hollering Kiwis and South Africans, as two rival teams competed for the win. I can't honestly compare the insanity of a rugby game to anything like an American football game, purely because I've never attended a football game. But if it were anything like rugby matches, I think the NFL would be dealing with more than they can handle. The Auckland Blues and the South African Sharks battled, but despite our efforts to scream, cheer, boo, and stand on our seats, the Sharks came out on top.

I screwed around with some of the 'sport' and 'action' settings on my camera, and came out with some fairly good shots. The zoom capabilities on my camera never cease to amaze me. Even after buying nosebleed tickets, I achieved photos that look as if I was on the field.

After our rugby experience, a few of us went into town to check out what Mount Eden had to offer. We came across the drunken stupor that tends to ensue after every game, whether win or lose. Once again, I feel like I need to reiterate the fact that the Kiwis are out of their minds, but in the best way possible...I think. Later that evening we ended up back in Auckland Central at a bar called Father Ted's to see our international study abroad advisor rock out with his band. As if it wasn't already strange enough watching your twentysomething year old school related staff member jump around on stage, professors came walking through the doors to join their students for a beer. This is in a whole other league of its own. Things are so different.

Hot.

Despite my appreciation of the environmentally friendly practices of New Zealand, something could be said about a few air conditioners. How suburban of me. I've been waking up in sweat the past week, as it's been humid and generally uncomfortable come morning.

I must have been mid-dream when I opened my eyes. It was the first time I felt incredibly panicked as a result of not immediately recognizing my surroundings. The room had the same feeling of waking up in my bed at home on a hot summer morning. To be honest, I was a little disappointed at first. Lets invest in the technology to teleport.

On another note, I bring you a short story. We've befriended New Zealand's top comedian, Brendhan Lovegrove (check him out at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KcQEsuhvmx4). During a night on the town, my buddies and I ended up in a bar called Shakespeare's. I began typical conversation with an older gentleman; where are you from, how do you like living here, what are you studying? After awhile, we all began joking with one another, poking fun at both Americans and Kiwis, having a good laugh. Toward the end of the night, he invited us to his "show". Show? What show? Where was he going with this...Turns out he was performing at one of New Zealand's top comedy clubs. We showed up, had a great laugh, met some great people, and ended up at a flat party hosted by another comedian. How these things happen, I'm not too sure.

Our school has been hosting a hodgepodge of events on campus. Two very well known bands in New Zealand, Shihad and The Mint Chicks, performed in our courtyard. A good 2,000 people showed up, one of those 2,000 not being me, but I heard from others that it was a good time. As for today, the beach is looking like a possibility. Can life get any tougher?

Normality.

Correction. My teacher is 'transgender'. Did you ever find out the truth about something you suspected for awhile? I mean, maybe you're just better off not knowing...I think I was. Its hard to sit in a class for two hours and have the only thought on your mind be, "male or female?" Auckland is a crazy place. I feel the realization of my professors sexual orientation has aided me in understanding just how insane the Kiwis are. It wasn't one week before I had stumbled across the Beer Olympics, an event held at the Bay of Islands where, to put it simply, kids dressed as animals ran three legged races while chugging beers and puking in the barf bag tied to their necks. Our arrival in Auckland was no different, as we observed guys in girls dresses, and women dressed in bright, mod wigs, running drunk around the streets in hopes of winning costume contests at the bars and clubs in the city. I'd call this country somewhat unpredictable.

The class week is finally over (and yes, it's Thursday mid-afternoon), so I'm already attempting to plan out my weekend. Tonight is the 'Kiwiana' party, in which study abroad students are asked to dress based around the theme of New Zealand. Whether you decide to dress as a sheep, or a surfer, is at your discretion. Why is it that a large part of me feels this is just an excuse for kids to get drunk and run around in costume? See aforementioned paragraph. Aside from the typical drunken debauchery, a few of us were discussing a trip to Waiheke Island, a short ferry ride from Auckland. It's been praised for its snorkeling and beautiful beaches, so...when in Rome.

I'm not completely enthralled by the pictures I've been taking; I still feel like I need more time to get familiar with my camera. Messing with the apeture and shutter speed have gotten me some cool shots, but I'm impatient. I'd like to think that if I had Photoshop I could adjust these pictures to perfection. I don't know the first thing about Photoshop. Balancing the red, blue, and green hues via adjusting the line values in a graph? I'm already yelling at my computer. My camera has spewed out some interesting shots as a result of my lack in photography knowledge.

I must say that Auckland is definitely not at its finest point. It's pretty miserable out. Rainy, windy, dreary, cold...feels like home. I'd like to go and make myself useful, but I'm afraid the only place I can do that is in my bed, asleep, wrapped up in a t-shirt. It sounds like a wonderful idea.

Tuesdays are Overrated.

I've still be in a slight haze the past few weeks. As much as I'd like to think im good at acquainting myself with new surroundings, I find myself questioning my environment from the moment I open my eyes to start the day. Class has begun, but is quickly disguised by the massive stage in the courtyard and the campus bar set in the corner. I've never been so confused. Is this an excuse to slack off? First week jitters? The result of no homework? Whatever it may be, I'm still calculating its impact on my sanity.

I'm cut up, sore, and bruised from God knows what. I told myself that if I wasn't risking my life everyday, I'd be disappointed. I want to scare the hell out of Kate.

My mind has turned into a thick pulp of emotions as a result of a lacking reality. Strangely enough, a fairly decent part of me feels the need to catch a plane back home. The honeymoon period has ended, and I'm now left with just my thoughts. You don't realize the importance of something until it's 15,000 miles away, whether it be material, emotional, mental, or physical. Everything has been put on hold so abruptly. I guess there is no grace period in which you will inevitably have to force yourself to adjust.

On a lighter note, I present to you and epic sunset.

Oh, and to follow that trend, my Event Planning teacher is a transvestite. Super fabulous (only to be spoken in drag).

Reality

Is this reality? I see nothing but turquoise water as I look out my 14th floor apartment room window in the heart of Auckland. Confusion has been a friend of mine for the past two weeks, as every morning I seem to wake up wondering where I am and how I got here. I strangely don't mind the stark white walls and the rough carpet floors being that the world is nearly a ride down the lift (aka: elevator, Kiwi speak). To be sitting at my desk for periods stretching longer than an hour bother me more so than it ever has. What the hell am I doing on the internet in New Zealand?





This place is intense. Overwhelming perhaps. My cheeks hurt from smiling.








Acquaintances have turned into life long friendships in no time. As much as I'd like to blame this on the typical college 'phenomena', this may be the real thing. We've already packed 8 of us in a minivan and toured areas of the North Island. The van stunk of alochol, body odor, and sea air by the time we were through with it. I suppose its times like those that bring people together immediately. Activities consisted of sleeping on the beach, sandboarding, chasing sheep, late night swimming, and showering only once during the long haul...you can only imagine.




Laura, Vic, Eugene, Heather, Andrew, Phil, Dario, Kate.

I suspect we will become an acronym in the near future.