...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.