A few Routeburn Photos

Destination: Immortality (I don't know, it just came to me)

Saturday December 29, 2007

Well, it’s been quite a long time since I last wrote. And certainly a lot has happened. I have been without adequate internet for a while now. But am making up for it now.

So I left the small organic farm I was working on along the north coast of the South Island in order to traverse all the way down to the South Coast to meet up with Emma and Chris. We had scheduled a Christmas hike (they are doing a tramping holiday) and I needed to be at the trailhead two days before Christmas. So, this meant hitching some 300kms (I totally guessed, I have no idea how far it was). I think it was way more than 300kms. But anyway. I started off early in the morning where I was picked up by an old man in his pick up truck. We had a nice chat and the weather was amazing. He took me to the nearest larger town that was some 25kms away.

I then waited in this town for quite some time. The longest yet, about two hours. It sucked. But the sun was shining and I could stand in the shade of a tree at a good hitching spot. So it wasn’t all that bad. Only that getting up early hadn’t really helped me out.

I finally got picked up by this guy who worked for the ubiquitous vineyards and had blown a part on the irrigation mechanism so was returning from a trip in town to purchase a replacement. Well, that meant I got dropped off at this random turn off in vineyard country way out in the middle of nowhere. Immediately jumping to mind was Steinbeck’s descriptions of Salinas valley in….well whatever years he wrote about the Salinas valley in. Heh. Dry dry hills, golden brown with grasses that blew in the wind and rattled with the extreme lack of water. Brittle and dry. Dryness was tangible, like a color painted over the whole landscape. Even the blue of the sky was drained pale without the vividness of moisture. And the big puffy white clouds held no promises. I was there. Me and my large pack and sleeping bag under my arm. I hiked up the nearest hill, large and climbing and straight along the highway’s edge. Reaching the middle of the crest I dropped my heavy pack, the whole, not just the small of my back drenched in sweat, but even that didn’t feel wet, it simply radiated heat. With my sunglasses and white hat on. I stuck out my thumb jabbing it into the seldom but speeding traffic.

As it was now almost high noon, I knew I was screwed if I was left out there too long. But I figured such a sorry state as I was in was certain to arouse some sense of pity from the passing motorists. Well, before long, it did. And a man with a ragged haircut, if it had a more consistent thickness or ‘style’ one could call it a mullet, but it was more like a patchy sprouting of mane than anything else. With what would seem to be transition sunglasses on and Talking Heads blaring over the stereo he offered to take me all the way to Christchurch, a good 2.5-3 hours away. Great! Was all I could think, even though, the car and driver looked somewhat alternative. So, over the course of about an hour I had learned that this guy had been in a motorcycle accident, a coma for 6 days, and had been allowed to return to work only within the last year. He also considered himself living on ‘bonus time’ in regards to life and always saw the silver linings. Grrreat. I swallowed, laughed lightly as I was piecing all this information together through the relative unimportant small talk of driver and passenger. This, I told myself, was exactly why I was in New Zealand, doing what I was doing. This exactly. I was here to ride through beautiful ocean side scenery with a wacked out aged coma surviving head trauma hippie case, listening to Talking Heads. So with my lips slightly curled into some sort of smile at the taste of irony? Serendipity? Stupidity? What? Whatever it was, it was sweet, definitely sweet. We pulled off in Kaikoura for a light lunch and after a free beer we hit the road again. What a nice guy I thought.

After being dropped off on the north side of Christchurch, I then had to do more hiking than hitching. I was sort of in the suburbs of Christchurch (a relatively large city…certainly when you’re walking in the heat of the day with a large pack) so the public transportation wasn’t really an option. So I hiked along residential streets trying to get to the other side of Christchurch to continue down the coast. I had a delivery guy about my age with huge dreads pick me up and did nothing but smile and say sweet with every bit of conversation. He was also the third person who has told me they were too scared to go to the United States. (Doesn’t everyone have guns there?)

After getting to the other side of Christchurch I was picked up by a Nigerian who had been living all around the world for the past couple decades. He had recently moved from Dubai (crazy!) which as you’ll all recall is in the United Arab Emirates, and is also the hometown of my freshman year roommate Ajoy. He was great, really chatty and nice. Ended up going on a HUGE rant about Bush and actually got quite passionate and emotional about it. (he had seen some of the effects of the Bush Administration’s foreign policy in his travels) I had to agree, and although I can not in the slightest identify with that administration of the parts of America that are even tangentially related, I still couldn’t fight an overwhelming sense of guilt. It’s pretty plain and simple that we’re fucking things up, and fucking them up badly. The embarrassing part is how high a price we as Americans are willing to pay for complacency. That’s the source of the guilt for me, I think, the absolute lack of dignity in the American people when confronted with the ills of the world (American created or otherwise). Every now and then I run into the obliging soul which either out of guilt or some self convincing acknowledges the disproportionate amount of good the United States does abroad when compared to other countries as well as the bad. And while I do agree (but to a lesser extent than others), the good the United States does abroad simply isn’t enough. But anyway, that’s a rant that rains on our parade of complacency.

So the Nigerian gave me a great ride almost to my stop-over destination of Timaru, before heading across the island to the West side to meet my friends. I was then picked up by a retired rugby player from Tonga. We had a great chat about sports, rugby, soccer and endurance sports. It was simple but entertaining. He was very friendly and although it’s cliché, he laughed like a bass drum (he looked like one too).

Arriving in Timaru and stumbled into the second hostel I saw (as I walked around scoping out each one I couldn’t help but laugh, thinking to myself how Crosby and Brian would be irked to more than just annoyance (just pick one!)). It was a wonderful hostel. My room was for 10 or 15 people and there was one other person in there. I got a twin bed that wasn’t a bunk! AND, the room was window on three sides. It gave a panoramic view of the town and harbor and ocean. Absolutely gorgeous. I woke up to the sunrise the next morning and just smiled back and the humble but persistent waves. Perfect. The owner of the hostel even gave me a ride out of town so it would be easier to hitch. What a guy. I was quickly picked up by a guy who worked in Sales and Marketing (for whom I forget) but he was exactly what you’d think of an old fashioned salesman…old fashioned? No, like, well, just a salesman. Which meant we had no trouble at all with conversation. He even drove past his destination in order to drop me off at mine. A small town that began the long stretch across the mountainous middle of the South Island. Within 5 minutes of being dropped off in Geraldine, I had the fortune of being picked up by a family (young couple and their 2 year old daughter). Where were they going? Queenstown, where was I going? Queenstown. Where was Queenstown? About 5-6 hours away. SCORE! They bought me lunch, chatted to me a ton, gave me their contact info in Auckland (for when I travel the North Island) and pretty much cried when they dropped me off in Queenstown. We stopped at scenic points along our drive for photo opportunities and I played games with their daughter Rachel. A Mauritian, a South African, and the daughter born Kiwi. It was wonderful. Like a family road trip, but not my family. Good times.

In Queenstown, I began to worry. I had heard a lot about the place from almost everybody. It was a huge tourist town, full of foreign visitors from the States and Europe. It was overpriced, full of douchebags and in general revolting in terms of Culture. Well, trying to hitch out of there was a disaster. It was fairly late in the day, (the latest I had ever tried to catch a ride) since our leisurely road trip had taken so long. While it was a boost to the ego to get honks and waves from carloads of cute girls, it would’ve been nicer to catch a ride. Then, as the sun was getting low in the sky and I was beginning to worry about where to stay (I strongly was considering rolling out my sleeping bag off the road, hidden somewhere) the local teenagers began their nightly prowl (fuck I though, it’s a Saturday) I had several stop and ask me where I was headed, only to be told, sorry, we’re just going down the street, with a stupid guffaw and punched accelerator. Thanks guys. Plenty of unfriendly stares and general menacing ways from the local ruffians. Great, just what I want to deal with as dusk approaches. But then, after and hour and half, and panic level beginning to escalate, a merciful driver stopped over. A Czech guy, who happened to be going part of the way to Te Anau, where I was trying to go. He didn’t speak much English, and I by no means could pass off any Czech. However, we had a sparse but cordial conversation. I told him I knew the Czech word Pozor! And that I had recently been there. He said he never wanted to go back, heh, ok dude. Linkin Park on the stereo made it rough, but the Lord of the Rings scenery we were driving through was breathtaking. And at dusk? Beautiful. So that was awesome and made the silent car ride, jusssst fine. Then, when we reached his turn off, we stopped for a toilet break and a smoke (him, not me). He then got back in the car and said, I’ll drive you the rest of the way. Uh? Really? Are you sure? Yesh, Yesh, I’m sure. Well, hot damn. Because there was no way I was going to catch another ride at 8pm in the evening with 50 k to go. So this dude, drive 100 kilometers out of his way to take me to Te Anau. Talk about ferkin awesome. Unbelievable, this guy was great. So I obviously, bought him a beer in Te Anau when we arrived. And thankfully, I caught the hostel right before closing and they had vacancy. Smooth, Sean, Smooth. So that was that. I walked around Te Anau, spent about 15 bucks on two beers at a bar I ate at for dinner by myself. I know sad, right? The bus load of overweight, sun-burnt female tourists from Britain just didn’t seem the mood I was after. So I tucked in early with a little JLPJ (john l. parker jr.) and called it a night.

The next day, I ran the errands I needed to before departing for my four day trek through the mountains (carry out what you carry in, yikes) and I almost had forgotten I needed to take food. Heh. Don’t know why, but it just slipped my mind. That would’ve been bad…

Then, as if by providence, I ran into Emma and Chris at the local pizzeria. Perfect. The rest is history. We spent the next four days hiking through gorgeous mountains in Fiordland National park and staying in huts that were fantastic.

It rained the first two days we hiked which was a bummer, but then was perfect sunshine on the most beautiful and longest hiking day. It rained on the way out again, but that’s ok. We were going back to civilization. We spent Christmas with 45 other hikers in a hut way up in the mountains with a Park Staff that were a bit loopy but full of Christmas cheer. They made us all mince pies (which are GOOD) and we sang Christmas carols by Candlelight. It was pretty much perfect. There is some good camera video that Emma took of Chris and I attempting singing. It’s pretty god awful. I was surprised to find myself (out of the 45 hikers, many being from Southeast Asia, or Germany, or well, I suppose non-English speaking or non-Christian countries) to be one of the only ones who knew so many of the lyrics so well. Comment of the night by some Aussie, that he was surprised to find that most Christmas songs were hymnals…ok these people obviously didn’t grow up going to Church…sigh, so yes, the Catholic boy knew all the Christmas hymnals, hilarious. He’s a Religious Studies major to boot, HILARIOUS. Quality night nonetheless, except for our wine, which came from a box, it was not quality, it was quantity there that did the trick.

And now, we’re recovering in Queenstown, with nothing really to report, except that it lives up to its reputation as douche-city with super expensive shit. Think Vail. Yeah, like that, except the people aren’t hot. They just dress the same. That’s harsh. Because Queenstown is on a beautiful lake nestled in beautiful mountains, situated in the center of a whole area of seriously kick ass outdoor adventure activity. But, still, downtown. Think Vail. Bleggghh.

I know that was long. But I forgive you all. Because I know you had thoughts of ditching out or mutiny, but I knew you’d appreciate having read it all in the end. So I forgive your infidelity.

Not to continue this with worthless shit. But something I think I forgot to tell you all. Iced Coffee here is NOT iced coffee. Which I thought it was when I first got here and would order. Until, I realized that in New Zealand, iced coffee is a coffee float. It’s coffee with a scoop of vanilla ice cream on top with whipped cream and chocolate flakes. It’s really really good. No wonder it’s 5 dollars. I am really sorry that was so long. But you guys had adequate warning and knew that without recent postings we were due for a doozy. So is that cool?

If you’re interested. Believe it or not. These were the short versions of the above events. If you’re interested in any in particular for further depth, jussst ask me. Yeah hah hah. Schweet.

Alive.

It was awesome. I had a great hike. I just got back to civilization. More will be coming over the next few days as I readjust to technology.

Merry Christmas and all that Jazz

I have no time left on the internet. but happy holidays all. I will be on the top of a mountain over the next three days, having a blast.

Whenever I get consistent internet (maybe over new years or the next couple days...) i will recount all the freaking CRAZY hitchhiking stories from Picton all the way down to Te Anau. Crazy. Seriously. I am in love with crazy life that is nuts and hitch hiking is the best thing in the world. I really like new Zealand. Everyone. get fat over Christmas. And if you don't celebrate Christmas. Good on ya. Laters.

As Time Goes By

Well, apparently time slips away from you. I apologize it's been so long since my last post. The clouds moved in and we got a spell of rain that has pretty much put me overboard. Yeah, after only 4 days. Yikes.

But it's sunny again and well, looky here I'm writing in my blog again. So we've been gearing up for Christmas here at Linkwater Organics and it's been quite hectic with lots of work. The rain has been good for the crops but then it keeps us from doing things that need to be done. It's difficult to harvest in the rain (but we did) and some things such as strawberries don't really do well when picked while wet. Other things, such as the potatoes are simply difficult to harvest in the rain because digging through wet clumpy heavy mud is harder than soft lovely beautiful light airy soil. Wet potatoes also tend to rip through the bottom of the paper bags we sell them in. Shucks.

But all of that is over now. We had a huge order go out this morning that we were all frantic about and now its done and the cloud cover has finally lifted and it's sunny and we have the afternoon free. How perfect.

What else? It will be two weeks tomorrow that I've been here in Picton/Blenheim area and I'll be heading off tomorrow morning. I'll be attempting to hitchhike all the way down the east coast of the south island which will be quite the feat. I'll probably have to stop off at some point and snag a hostel which I'm just so miffed about. I really don't like staying in the hostels, they're just really lame. All you meet are fellow traveling types and they're situated mostly in touristy areas and you only stay there briefly, or else you pay a ridiculous amount of money to stay in them for say a week. Hostels, are really not that cheap of an option for accomodation anymore. It sucks. So bummer right.

Although, when I do think about it, I'm so proud of myself when it comes to money (and really grateful for this whole WWOOFing experience.). It's been 2 weeks and I haven't spent any money. It's great.

I am traveling south (I completely planned this all wrong, but that's ok) because I misread my friends itinerary for their time here. So I will end up back tracking a fair amount and am not sure how long I'll get to travel with my friends...but, backtracking is not a bad thing when you know people you're traveling toward and your transportation is free. Hee. Ugh, speaking of money again. I just realized this...it's a good thing I haven't spent any money in the past two weeks because this Christmas deal is going to cost me at least $100 ...well actually it's already cost my $90, so there ya go. I am meeting mi amigos for a Christmass 3-day hike in Fiordland (Southland) and staying in mountain huts that are owned and operated by the DOC (department of conservation) and cost a pretty penny. I think this will be my first and last. It just costs too much money, especially when I can WWOOF at places and go explore the tracks at my leisure and for free. But it will be nice to be with friends. I caught up on their blog about their adventures and it makes me a little sad and lonely comparing their experiences together with mine alone. Like I've said, it'll be nice to be with friends. nice and fun actually.

I'd like to thank everyone for their concern about my sand fleas. I should have been a bit more specific, or perhaps not so misleading. they are sand FLIES. So, no, I don't have fleas, and they don't travel with me. They just are little and they breed in flowing water and they come up from sand and dirt and bite you and make you itch like crazy and go ugly. But thankfully, I have finally developed an immunity. I still get bit and itch, but only a tiny amount that is easily overcome and no more humungoid swelling from breaking down and mimicking a crazy OCD person.

The two other WWOOFers here at the moment are from Utah and they want to bake cookies or go get ice cream. I am in full support of that. Although, I'm not going to help them bake because it is sunny out and I will only be inside in order to finish this post. duh.

Oh, I was reading my friends blog like I said. And they are math people and readers have noted how funny the blog is written by two left-handed brain siders. Well, I think it will be funny to read posts on each of the same experiences when we're together, one being nerdy and the other being totally right-handed brain sided and beautiful. Hee. Speaking about math and stuff. My host went off on a huge rant/tangent/diatribe (is there one that doesn't denote anger?) Monologue, about how cool math is, and from a lay math person's perspective how awesome math is and great, and he has an ecology degree and how great math is with ecology and how mathematical ecology is and how you have to have all these super complex equations and differentials to map these systems in ecology and how ecology is just really complicated closed systems where it's definite cause and effect and blach blach blach (I typed blach by accident, but I like the sound better).

well. I got depressed and had to leave. a lot of you know why, but perhaps some of you who don't might find this entertaining: I hate math. Correction: I like math. Conditional: as a language or method of description. Furthermore: or as pure mathematics that can be beautiful but doesn't really necessarily pertain directly to our 'real' world.

Math is dangerous as a Religion. Math is dangerous when people to take it as the final or one and only solution. Math is annoying when treated as trump. (vomit break: my host said a mathematically minded ecologist was going to be the one to come up with the unified theory of everything) (that's when my head was screaming "FUCK OFF!") So yeah. This is a rant and not an argument (what's coming up, not what I just said, hee.)

Is ecology perhaps soooo complex, requiring such complicate convoluted crazy equations to define it because, well, ecology is something that is ill-defined by math? Could there possibly be shit in our world where math is NOT the best way to describe it, categorize it, or know it? I mean I know there are a ton of shit arguments all over and back and forth about all this crap. But still. Cmon, unified theory of everything? Ecology a closed system? I end up always having to fall back on my final argument (because I get depressed thinking about this stuff, then I get too tired to want to argue my side) that, EVEN IF math is the best and math is great and math solves all the problems of the world, it really is just not the way I'd like to live my life. i guess i get more heated about it, because it's just not the way I want other's to live their lives either. At least if we keep cutting math education short so that people don't study it long enough to learn the cool aspects of it and the parts of it that I consider ok. Hah, ok, so people unfamiliar with this chip on my shoulder, should also note that I view most ethics as depending on exactly these desires/wants for other people. So no, I'm not being selfish blah blah blah, wanting others to do what I want, blah blah.

(Second vomit break: host says, math at a certain extent gets to be really similar to art (leap of joy in my heart, perhaps he'll save himself in the end...), pause, I think someday math will predict how and what art arises.) DUNNNNGGGG. 16 tons just falls on his head. That's ridiculous. And if it does. I hope I'm dead. I guess, this is enough for now. It's so whiny. And, I really haven't put forth any good reason not to allow math and rules of efficiency and definite one object solutions guide almost every controlling aspect of our lives. I connect these because these lay math persons, often confuse math, with efficiency, and clear cut square line solutions. In and Out, put this in get this out thinking. That's what math is to a lot of these 'lay math people' and it annoys me to no end, because I see the seduction in that viewpoint. You CAN explain the whole world according to that thinking, and things FIT and sure it's not all happy and shiny. and sometimes you don't know the answer and its hard, but the whole world is still there. And it's so difficult to try and convince someone like that, that they are MISSING a huge chunk of the world, the whole big chunk of the world that doesn't FIT in math.

Wow, I did not see that (indicating above) coming. I am sorry I couldn't control myself. I will go out in the sun and calm down. That will be good. I will probably not be able to write again til after Christmas ( I think, who knows what the worlds holds....if only I knew more math.) Hee.

Also FYI, I'm a pretty darn good farmer at this point. I was managing 4 people today and it was fantastic. I got to organize. Which, I'm a really good organizer, to be fair. Hee. Except then my other host, came in (after being away from the farm all morning) and completely RE-organized everything that I had done. When ALL that needed to happen was have everything I had organized, put into the car. I had taken care of everything! Knowing that they were stressed about the order. It simply needed to be loaded. Well she came in and wasted half an hour simply reorganizing what I had been crafting all morning. Well, I've been really good since I got here on being able to handle shit like that and just be like, "oh well" but I got really frustrated because a) getting up early everyday sucks and makes you tired b) i've been weaning myself off coffee c) these people are fairly abrasive (such a good word) and d) I just did ok.

So, conveniently, it's time to leave. Phew!

Never-Ending Summer.: Viva le Sol

I could get used to this flip-flopping hemispheres to keep summer eternal. It's really working for me. This past weekend was fantastic. We raked in loads of cash on Saturday from the shop and had worked so hard and done so well, our hard working hosts decided to take the afternoon off with us and we went out to enjoy the beautiful Marlborough Sounds. My host's father has a huge magnificent boat that we went out on for lunch with plenty of wine and beer. The sun was shining, the water shimmering, and the wind blowing. It was great. I love boating. Hee.

So, we had a fantastic time. We went scalloping (the sounds are full of scallops and jellyfish it turns out). So we caught TONS of scallops and I personally shelled and shucked a lot of them. Scooping out the scallop from the shell, cutting off the icky bits, and POPping them into our mouths was an experience for me. Raw seafood isn't normally my cup of tea unless it's a great sushi dinner at Ken's on Foothill Blvd with fantastic company like the Mulcahy-Finley partnership. But these scallops were amazing. So sweet, so fresh (obv) and unbelievable. We just yanked them out of the water with our special scallop scooping net. And then enjoyed them. We had them on sandwiches with avocado, nice wine, fudge for dessert. It was high class. Yes sir. And I felt right at home to say the least. Hee.

We then carried the party on to a neighbor's home who had a large bbq (we had a LOT of scallops so we decided to share the wealth). The party was great. Quintessential summertime barbeque and we definitely enjoyed ourselves. Marvelous indeed. We spent the whole evening 'taking the piss'. Everyone was hungover Sunday morning except for me (hmmm....) and we rose early to go to the farmer's market. We made a killing at the market, and I helped one of the neighbor's with her coffee cart. My first experience as a barista. It was pretty sweet. I drank too much coffee but that's alright. I enjoyed it. It was also paid work which was pretty darn sweet. I haven't made any money in such a long time. And the company working the cart was great. Another sunshiney day and all was right in the world down here. Definitely enjoyed it. Hardwork, hard play, exactly what this guy enjoys. Went for a couple of runs that were fantastic. A local boy has challenged me to a race up the old miner's track. Recall the old old miner's track across the mountains that I ran a few days ago. Well this rugby player built 19 year old thinks he can take me. Let's just say, I better freaking win. I'm not losing to this young whipper snapper. Ah well, we'll see how it goes. So the weekend was great. And I love summer even though I sort of sunburnt my back. Another reminder of how Ireland somehow sucked the soul out of me (which is physically manifest in my melanin levels.) Well, not Ireland, correction. Winter. Fuck winter. Seriously. I only enjoy it in romantic one week segments where I can say, oh, look snow, oh look icicles. oh look, let's go skiiing. oh look, i'm back in the warm sunshine wasn't that nice. That's my kind of winter. Smile. Ok, well I hope you are all doing very well, as well as me actually, and those people who enjoy winter, i hope you are enjoying it and for those of you who don't enjoy winter, what are you doing in winter? And for those of you with jobs. My condolences. But I guess I'll be up at 6am tomorrow morning....and I guess I made some money today and that was pretty cool, so maybe I'll retract my last statement about jobs. They're kinda cool I guess. Viva le Sol

I actually don't know Spanish.

Societal Fart

you know, that unpleasant gas that is released when society's a bit bloated? Well, that's sort of how I feel again. Not because of my high fruit diet, which believe me makes the trips to the bathroom so much more uneventful. But, just as I was having these feelings of usefulness, I've been humbled back into that odorous gaseous excess from our current society. A result of overindulgence, too much luxury and really no sense of purpose, floating around without much use and whenever somone does notice it, the reaction tends to be looking for someone to blame my existence on. This is going overboard, but you get the picture. I abase to this extent in order to highlight the difference between me and these new WWOOFers.

Well, so, the guy is 26 or something. Out of high school, joins the Air Force, becomes a technician on F16's gets stationed in Utah, then flown out to Kuwait befriends fellow soldiers who go out into war and don't come back. Then comes back, goes to college, finished, goes to Alaska and works on a fishing boat (he knows several of the guys from Deadliest Catch) then moves to Colorado with his girlfriend and does tiling and ski/snowboard instruction. They came down here for the Winter to do ski/snowboard instruction, the season ended and they've been working odd jobs and WWOOFing.

Ugh, whether or not life is a competition. I lose. I can only make a feeble attempt to talk about books I've read, which are books that most people find pretentious. How can I compete with talking about how the flux capacitor after-burner thruster mechanism of an F16 works? Well I can't, I have just as many big words, but the subject matter seems to be less engaging. Especially when my host is a staunch Utilitarian and has very little room in his conception of the world or everyday life for abstract thinking on even the responsibility of holding certain ethical theories in mind. It just doesn't seem to fit in this world. But, it's not like I was looking for it to, so actually, I'm fine.

Hah, that whine was way longer than it was supposed to be because now it seems like it was a huge deal, when in reality. it was not. I went on another mountain run today but couldn't take the dog because there wasn't an extra car so I had to bike there. it was difficult and my legs are sore.

I don't know how long I'll stay here. Everyday when I wake up at 6am I hate myself and want to leave. But then, I have breakfast and a cup of coffee and I feel fine about it. hee. not sure that's so healthy. I'll be moving on soon regardless. There are no funny stories today so don't even ask. Although, we might all go to the pub tonight. Which if we do. I can pretty much guarantee some juicy stuff for tomorrow's entry. Oooh, doesn't it just make you squirm?

Since going abroad, I have begun to watch Star Trek and Scrubs (because they are ALWAYS on) and while I am beginning to love Star Trek, I hate Scrubs. Its awful and if you like it, you're wrong. I think I have breast cancer, well actually I'm not sure, it might just be a pimple.

I think I almost have a cut on every finger of my hand. (can you tell that I've run out of things to say and so I'm just sitting here noticing on the weird stuff I've acquired in the past few days?) Well I do almost have a cut on every single finger. Believe me, typing is fun.

I've received some unbelievable feedback about the blog lately (ugh, what a follow up to the above paragraph, heh.) and it's been really awesome to hear. I am really impressed some of you are still reading, I mean it's kind of a commitment yeah? well anyway, i'm proud of you all.

ok i need some material. nah screw that, no i don't, i need a shower. The raspberries have ripened and they are delicious. I'm think I'm going to cut this off because it's starting to get really lame. Oh, speaking of lame. I really like these new WWOOFers, but they are a couple. and couples around single people are almost always annoying. Take that as a warning, you. you couples. Cutesy, fyutesy inside jokes are NOT appropriate around other people. I'm sorry, but I don't go around whispering secrets in front of other people because I was taught that was RUDE. So, go tee hee out of earshot. Please. Perhaps I'll start slapping my hosts and fellow WWOOFers butts and pinching their love handles around the house...or maybe make out with their dog.

puke and guts.


56 minutes--no clue how far or how fast, it was up a mountain. started to rain part way through.

Exhausting Moses

Moses is the dog. And I exhausted him.

It was a challenge between me and owner. After giving me directions to the most kick ass trail ever, they cheerfully suggested, "Take Moses." I obviously, knowing what was in store for the poor dog if I did take him, asked them, well, "How long can Moses go?" The owner promptly replying, "3 days" Hmmm, I said skeptically. Leading my host to issue forth from his confident mouth, "If you bring back Moses dead from exhaustion with something left of your legs from the knee down..." then he shook his head and left. I was left on my tip toes straining and barely containing myself for the 'then' half of the statement....I was left dangling. So I took Moses. And I found the most kick ass trail ever and we both headed off. Moses like a dog, running ahead of me and all around. Moses I yelled in warning, pace yourself old man, stick by me or you'll be hurtin by the end. But dogs do not speak English. Nor are they very good at pacing. So, up up up up up we went. It was a 130 year old Miner's Track over a mountain pass from the gold rush days. Sweet! And it climbed up and up and up and up. Apparently, dog was going to win over human on this one. I was huffin and puffin, thank Mills Avenue for what it had given me, thanking Potato for what it had given me and thanking Long 'Tennas for what it too had given me and calling upon their strength I muscled my slow pathetic out of shape ass up the mountain into one of the coolest forests I'd ever been in. With moss covered rocks, wet leaves and gnarly roots all over every which way I had the time of my life flying through the forest like some primeval hunter chasing down the black shadow of a dog 50 meters ahead of me. (i really am surprised I didn't break my leg)

After an hour the wind started to pick up and it started to get a bit chilly. As I had been warned time and time again that the weather can change on a dime in the New Zealand bush and that all four seasons can be experienced in a single day and to ALWAYS BE PREPARED when going into the bush, I figured my skimpy running shorts, socks, shoes and running hat were not much of a survival pack. Nor was I McGyver. So turning around was a good idea. Especially since, about halfway through the return journey, Moses pulled an all too familiar move on me. He slowed down so much on the single track that I was stumbling over his hind legs. With a deep valley abyss to my right and sheer mountain to my left there wasn't much I could do. I leapt over him and took off to put some distance between us. Poor guy. He made a small effort to keep up with me, but on the small uphills going back down the mountain he was absolutely useless. After a couple I didn't see him again. I simply had to wait for him at the end until he came shuffling along. Poor guy was tuckered out for sure. We'll see if I get any reward from Mr. Cocky Owner.

If I don't, I will do this to his dog every day that I am here. To be fair, on the car ride back to the house, I did try to explain to Moses why I had said to pace himself in the beginning and told him why he hadn't lasted until the end, why he was so tired....etc. He just lay there. But I think he appreciated the advice.

Two new WWOOFers have joined the household and I've got to go help them make dinner. They are mid twenties from Colorado and spent the winter here teaching skiing and snowboarding. Cool. They've been WWOOFing here since winter ended. They have a little hippie van. It's cool. Yeup. Ok

Otherwise nothing happened today. I worked all morning like usual, slept for an hour in the afternoon like usual and ran their dog into the ground (it's going to be like usual) and now I'm updating my blog...like usual. Now I'm going to go do something which isn't that usual: take a shower. hee.

I gave in.

Yes, I did.

I scratched.

And now. I pay the consequences. My limbs are swollen something in between Elephantitis and the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man. Damn, mother ferking, little soldiers of Satan bloody hell Sand Fleas. Oh and I woke at 6am again today and was promptly bitten by another one. What the hell? What are sand fleas doing up at 6am in the morning? AND already biting people. Son of a bitch.

But its cool. Because, while everyone loves to jump on the "DON'T scratch" advice giving steam train, the scratching actually seems to be healing them. it spreads the poison (hence the swelling) and my hypothesis is that the diluted poison is then more quickly filtered through my blood. Instead of remaining within it's tiny red dot fortress it must deal with half my forearm. it also changes the itchy feeling into an ouchy feeling, which, ouchy you can ignore. itchy, well, as demonstrated above, cannot be. So, sand fleas.

Another day. It's amazing how quickly the days pass here. Not here, everywhere, why am I so old? Time, as the song should sometimes go, is NOT on my side. but we've had rain for the first time in 6 weeks here. And well, you know, I honestly don't mind now. Well, yeh, duh, it's summer. it's gotten muggy, which, Sean, is not a fan of mugginess. It makes me feel like my head is dunked in a vat of honey that is not sweet. so trying to do anything is frustrating. I passed out today I was so tired. Hee.

i'm planning my escape to Christchurch. Although, it's not an escape because our relationship (mine and my hosts) is coming on beautifully. While in the strawberry fields (forever) my host and I debated Utilitarianism. Farmers, I think, in my experience tend to be more pragmatic people, while, upper middle class people who haven't spent more than a year outside of school, with no real job experience and a penchant for uselessness tend to be more abstract and quote-unquote 'intellectual' (hah, that was redundant wasn't it?) So it was a fun and lively discussion, considering this farmer has a degree in Ecology and History. Hee.

I've also really surprised myself here. From somewhere I've received some productive value. Without really trying, I was really good at chopping firewood. Stacking timber, sawing, building a fence, picking produce, moving irrigation apparati, counting, packing, refrigerating, cooking dinners and driving on the left hand side of the road (with a backwards manual transmission) all quite naturally and to my virgin eyes, without apparent signs of underlying deficiency. I wonder if my hosts know how un-me all this really is. I don't know whence it came. Perhaps Ireland has had a nice positive effect on me that I haven't previously noticed. I guess, I can officially say, i'm really not that useless anymore. At least now, I can discern veggie sprouts from weeds.

It's been a solid 2 weeks now and it's gone quickly and been fun. But I'm looking ahead at two more months of this and wondering what it will be like. Am I going to get tired of this? I don't really see that happening since this is most definitely the most varied life I've lived ever. I'm really seriously doing something different almost every day and with new people (like really different people) every week. So, that's kind of crazy. And awesome. I guess I'm eager for Christmas to pass since it's the only set in stone date I have plans. After that I don't "have" to be anywhere and I can stay on with a family or so if I like them for longer than one week. Which would be nice.

I am eagerly awaiting the arrival of American friends in a few days. Although, I probably won't see them for at least another week or two. But whatever, it'll be nice to know they are here. And, good times are ahead. Whoopee.

What else? I wrote my resume. sheepish grin. It sucks, but oh well. I need a job in the States, which. let's see. I'm excited about and yet. I'm still a bit idealistic to be fully content or happy with any job I could potentially score. It's also difficult to conduct a job search when you are halfway across the world with intermittent internet access. Derh. but alas, it must be done. And so. I am doing it. Joooobbs. (that looks like it rhymes with boobs, but trust me, it doesn't.) Jaaahhhhhbs. There we go.

i'm drinking too much coffee. damn. i got to watch an episode of the Simpsons the other day on the television here (we have strict numbers of hours we can watch TV each day (like them too) and its limited to like 1 or 1 and a half if there's something REALLY good on. but that's fine, TV sucks. So anyway, I was cracking up, like dying laughing (looking back it must be because I'm so America deprived) hindsight's twenty-twenty right? and the two Kiwis and Englishman in the room just looked at me marveling at what a kick I was getting from this show. Well, cmon, the joke about Bart mimicking a 'grad' student by having a ponytail and Marge replying, "Don't make fun of grad students, they're just people who made a terrible life choice" hit a little close to home and had me in stitches. Then, I was upset the next afternoon when for some reason, the Playboy bunnies do Vegas show on the E! Channel was blocked with parental controls...what the hell? It's a childless couple in their late 30s, why in the world would the E! Channel be parentally blocked? Quality Control maybe, but Parental Control? Well, it's dinner time and I've written enough I think for today. So enjoy.

Oh also, the Kiwis and Englishman were not familiar with Team America, so while digging up potatoes together yesterday, they did not find it funny when I pulled up the plants with several potatoes hanging on and said, "Surprise, c**kbags"

(cmon, I had to edit, my mother and grandmother read this...)

Je suis muy fatigo.

So, day two up at the grundle of dawn. Again though, woke up just minutes prior to my alarm. Yeah, I'm that cool. Today, i woke a bit more slowly though. Yeah, I suppose yesterday was a bit tiring, considering, oh, I decided on my afternoon "off" I would bike 10 km to the Queen Charlotte Track (sweet ass hiking trail through Marlborough Sounds) and go for a run. So yeah, ended up going for like a 13km run and then had to bike the 10 km back home. I don't know where I got the energy. Haha, and sadly, on the way back (I did an out and back since the Track takes 3 days to hike) I came across either a high school team or perhaps it was the Outward Bound School that is situated at the start of the track, but either way, some younger coeds were huffin and puffin their way along the track. The sad part was that they happened to be going the same direction as I was. Now I can't say I'm proud of this, but....I toasted em. I felt like an old man feeling the racing spirit again after a long haitus...that's also the sad part I guess.

So today with my afternoon "off" I think I'll skip a monstrous workout and take a monstrous nap instead, then maybe entertain a little workout. The abs I did yesterday too have been pretty rough on me today. i just haven't worked out in a really long time, like, legitmately worked out. Ughhh. but I suppose not strangely enough, the 6 am schedule slave drivin' routine really makes it easier for me to get my workout shit done. It's a different story when you are sunbathing on a deck overlooking the ocean and eating wonderful food and coffee...then it's much more difficult to go run. Especially when everyone around you calls you jock and fitness freak and can't stand your sweatshop made running shoes or running hat. It's a bit tough to drag your ass out the door. But for the early risers work til you drop crew. Going for a run is practically expected, phew.

nothing funny has happened, like, me accidentally digging up a 100 dollar plant or anything. Although, i did have to mow this gigantic lawn at my last place and since the property was on a huge steep hill, I almost died, because I couldn't lift the whole mower. But that's not really exciting. I am still struggling to finish Faust part 2. In my opinion, its really boring, but that's because I'm missing almost the whole allegory I think. I was never any good with poetry. Anywho, I guess I'll just start reading Once a Runner again. Hah!

No: to Sand Fleas, Yes: to Organic Strawberries

So, at my last home I was literally eaten alive by sand fleas. Yeah, and so my legs and arms are just covered in the most hideous looking skin disease ever. And they itch really really badly. Grrr....not pleasant. It has been over a week and they have not stopped itching or gone down. In fact, they are slightly swollen. Fuck that.

However, I am now in Picton and am enjoying myself immensely even though my new host wakes at 6am to start the day and expects the WWoofers to also. This isn't as bad as I thought it might be (hold on though, it's only been one day). I have off and on had crash sessions at around 8 or 9pm only to arise refreshed at 7 or 8 am. hahah. I like sleeeep. So, anyway, crashed at around 9 30pm or perhaps 10pm last night and arose rather gently at 5 56am this morning. Perrrfect. Worked on a legit organic farm (before it was a large garden, now I've got like, rows and rows, fields and fields (paddocks, in Kiwi jargon) of fresh yummy organic produce. Since it's summer everything is ready to be picked (and eaten). Tomorrow is the farmer's market which we prepared for today. I only have to work half the day, so up at 6am, finished by half 12 when I get fed lunch and then I'm turned loose on this amazing place. I'm going for a run momentarily.

We are also given free license to graze as we harvest the produce. Which means, I had a nice morning snacking on fresh strawberries, spinach, broad beans etc. it was fantastic. i can't believe how well I'm eating here in New Zealand. Pretty much all homegrown food. Deliciousness, fresh, awesome. work of my own hands (sort of.) pretty much great. My body is thankful I think. it's amazing how gross other food is when you go back to it. I had a restaurant meal in Nelson that, by all restaurant standards was pretty good, but it just tasted awful compared with all the homecooked meals of fresh homegrown produce and food I've been enjoying. Definitely convincing me to start the whole urban gardening thing whenever I score my sweet ass pad in LA or San Francisco....(finger crossing commencing...).

I have a slight farmer's tan already. Sad. Not to mention the flea bites. I'm a mess currently. There was something I told myself not to forget to tell you all, but hah. of course.

Yeah, its gone. I am holding up surprisingly well so far. I did my next stint of hitch hiking from Nelson to Picton which is not far really. A couple from Australia picked me up (mid Twenties) and took me all the way to my host's door. How nice. They were cool, although, the guy definitely did all the talking for his girlfriend. grrrreat. Anyway. So, I've met two more Englishmen and still my stereotype has yet to be broken. Two german girls left here this morning and they couldn't leave quickly enough. They hated all the hard farmwork and particularly were distressed by the early morning wake up call. It seemed as though my two hosts didn't care much for them either. Ah well, you win some you lose most, but what are you going to do? Tramp around beautiful New Zealand I guess...

ok, well I guess not much else is coming to mind at the moment. so. I'll just post this and you all will have to be satisfied. Nobody seems to be chomping at the bit anyway. And I can't blame them what with this more irregular schedule and monstrous posts. maybe more funny stories would do the trick....wertever.

Bitchin' Hitchin

So, I had my first experience hitchhiking. and it was great.

I needed to get from Punakaiki in the West Coast Region, to Nelson, in the Nelson Region. Which, total, I think is some 292km or something like that. I hitched from my host's house and waited less than 10 minutes before getting picked up. The guy was a 26 year old from Jordan who was a chef and was eager to have him family move down to New Zealand with him. He was extremely nice and kind. We had a great chat the whole hour drive to Westport (where he was going) and when we arrived he not only showed me all his favorite spots in the town, but he bought me a cup of coffee and sent me on my way. What a nice guy yeah?

Then, I hit the doldrums of traffic over the noon hour and early afternoon. I waited longest in Westport, I think, total, and hour and half. Before getting picked up by this great tattooed local who had just moved over to the West Coast from the east coast 2 years back and installed satellite television sets. He gave me a ride giving me commentary on all the wilderness as we passed, explaining the different rivers, gorges, mountains and their histories. We then stopped at a lookout point (one of his favorites) which was really breathtaking. Then we piled back in and he left me out at a fork in the road.

I then had to wait another 10 minutes before getting picked up by a cop. Yeah, haha. and he drove me the rest of the way to Nelson which was like....and hour and a half and he left me off at the tourist info center. Really, three completely different people, equally nice and friendly and pretty much had a great time. I even came out a cup of coffee ahead. So, moral of the story. I am in favor of hitchiking.

But now sadly, I'm staying in Nelson in a backpackers/hostel, which after or compared to WWOOFing is really not very fun. I'd rather be with a family or couple and staying for a longer time (i'm heading to Picton tomorrow) and not well, paying. I had dinner alone. Which was well lonely. But I'm still having a great time. I cannot wait to get to Picton and meet my new family, on the phone they sound wonderful. Anyway, since I'm now paying for internet I am going to be frugal. talk to you all later.

Kia Ora

So, I've been here about a week and a half so far with still no rain....I think this country might love me.

Been working fairly hard in the garden. I usually work afternoons when it's hot and sunny (as opposed to mornings when its sunny but cool). UV rays are out of control here. But, I'm pretty ok with that. I work for about 4 hours each day doing miscellaneous things around this 2 acre garden/farm area. It's pretty sweet and not too bad. Then I go hiking or swimming in cool river/ocean combos, or just lay out on the deck and listen to music watching the Tasman Sea be a beautiful badass ocean. Over the tops of wild jungle trees of course and listening to the incredible birds. Apparently New Zealand, never developed/evolved any native mammals, and so there were no natural predators on the islands. This is why so many birds have evolved to become flightless here (i.e. the Kiwi bird). So, yeah, and in John Cook's captain's log when New Zealand was first discovered by the bastards of the planet he described the place as a cacophony of bird noises. A gigantic aviary. So, while many of the birds have been lost or decimated by introduced species, the native bird and birdsong here is pretty freakin unbelievable.

Last night a possum (which is like a small tree climbing mix between a bear and a marmoset here) kept me up all night. And although I knew it was a teddy bear sized little pipsqueak I was completely freaked out, because a) tin roofs amplify sound like whoa b) it was jumping from the nearby tree onto the roof making a sudden loud noise and then would scramble around producing such a clamor that I'd bolt up out of my dozing sleep and c) when I started banging on the roof and walls of the hut to try to scare it away, it simply started hissing at me. In fact, by the end of the night, it was climbing to the edge of the roof, hanging down and looking in the window at me and hissing. Mind you, this hut is about 5ft by 6ft, so 2/3 of it is my bed/me when I'm in it and the walls are sheets of particle board nailed together with sheets of tin over them and some pieces of glass that serve as windows, but I wouldn't describe as air or watertight. So, needless to say, I didn't feel all that protected from this menace, in fact I felt as though it were jumping on me and hissing in my face. Sweet. it being nocturnal and me being...well not. I felt as though I was at the extreme disadvantage. So, sleepless night for me. Fuck the possums.

This morning I spoke with my hosts about the possums and apparently they are huge pests, introduced from Australia (where they are endangered) and people in New Zealand go to great lengths to kill the stupid buggers. Amen. I should've got up and tried to kill it. Although, this one seemed quite feisty and not in the least bit scared of me. What a bastard. But I'm cool, i'm cool.

Otherwise, I think I may be moving on. The west coast is quite amazing, but I'd like to explore the rest of the country. I will be moving on to Picton which is on the north coast of the south island either tomorrow or Friday. I am pretty excited to attempt getting there on my own and quite excited about a new host. Although, I will be sad to leave my current one. This is such a cool way to meet people. The other WWOOFer here, Jack, has left. He left on Tuesday. Which has been alright. I was a little put off by staying here all by my lonesome, but it's really not bad at all. Welp, I think it's dinner time. So I better get going. Hope everyone is enjoying winter (except for the fellow Southern Hemisphere-ers.

WWOOF wwwwoooooooffff

So much to record. It’s been quite the week. I left on Saturday evening from Belfast and flew through London. Got lost in Heathrow…I was supposed to go to Terminal 3, which I kept repeating to myself, Terminal 3 Terminal 3, you’re looking for Terminal 3. And there, the sign as big as can be, Terminal 3 to the right, Terminal 4 straight ahead. Well I promptly walked straight ahead, annoyed even, at some slower passengers and jumped on the bus connection to Terminal 4. After getting off the 15 minute bus ride and walking up several flights of stairs did I come to a monitor with gate information. All of them were British Airways, but I was flying Air New Zealand. What the hell? So as I walked to find an information desk, the thought hit me. You idiot! You are in Terminal 4, you marched straight to Terminal 4 while the whole time you were repeating to yourself Terminal 3, this isn’t the right terminal! Fuck it all. I ran back down all the flights of stairs, and asked someone at the bus door how to get to Terminal 3. “Go back up the flights of stairs, walk around, through the security checkpoint and down the stairs to bus pick for Terminal 3. Seriously? Damn it. Back up the stairs, through security, down the stairs and plop down in the seats to await the bus “arriving shortly sir” I was informed. Moral of the story. Thank god for long layovers. Ah but then. I finally reach Terminal 3, which is like a parking garage stairwell up to the check-in booths. Ah, check-in. Could’ve sworn I did that in Belfast, but had noticed it quite odd that no one so much as looked at my passport nor inquired about it. I showed no form of identification to get from Belfast to London. But here, I have to check in for real. With about 40 minutes until boarding. Well, at this point I am informed after waiting in a long queue for quite some time that Americans are not allowed into New Zealand without proof of departure. Oh really? I was completely unaware of this. After reading requirements for entry to the country, I thought I was golden. I also didn’t expect New Zealand to be stricter than Ireland which is the most xenophobic country ever next to the United States when it comes to immigration policy. Well apparently its third behind New Zealand. So then the process of buying a “for visa purposes” plane ticket out of the country with a totally inept airline personnel I ran to my gate just as boarding was ending. At least I had aisle seats the whole way through.

The first leg of the journey was from London to Hong Kong. I was thoroughly impressed with the on board in flight entertainment. They had a wide selection of movies new and old, they had a wide selection of music that you could even create your own playlist (Like having an iPod in your seat!) and much more. It was great. I watched Top Gun (yes!) then a special on the area of New Zealand I would arrive first. A couple episodes of Planet Earth. I didn’t have to use my iPod or computer the entire time. Which was great. It had also completely slipped my mind that it is common to have free booze on international flights. At least if you’re not flying RyanAir. So, needless to say that was sweet. Although, the one thing I was not very impressed with was the special vegetarian meal I had ordered. It was simply a large plain salad. Come on, you could do so much more. Anyway. Pleasant flight surprisingly. Could have been a lot worse. I also don’t take pills like a a lot of people do for long flights. I didn’t realize this was so common. But, uh, dangerous! I did though, drink a scary amount of coffee. Which, meant by the time I finally arrived in Auckland and then in Christchurch, you could say I had the jitters. I couldn’t keep my hand still. The layover in Hong Kong was fine. Uneventful. The airport is nice in Hong Kong. We had to go through security again though, which was annoying, but fairly smooth so not that bad. The flight from London to Hong Kong was 12 hours. We had a 2 hour wait in Hong Kong and then a 10 hour flight from Hong Kong to Auckland. On that leg, I watched the first two Lord of the Rings movies (to get stoked about awesome New Zealand scenery obviously). When I landed in Auckland, it was really sunny and hot. Humid and summer time/tropical feeling. I was SO happy. I had to transfer terminals again, from international to domestic. Which, instead of a bus was a walk outside. Uhm, awesome. I had a nice leisurely walk, listening to tropical birds sing and finally smelling that smell that will forever keep my mood happy and will to live strong: orange blossom. It’s quite possibly the best smell in the world. Anywho, the flight from Auckland to Christchurch was a short little hop and before I knew it I had collected my bags and was navigating the public transportation system of Christchurch in order to find my hostel. Which I did with apparent ease (how is that possible?) and checked-in, took a rinse shower and then began to run errands, trying to get my cell phone to work, buying a power converter, finding lotion (somehow I could not get anything to physically dry in the whole country of Ireland, yet somehow, my skin dried out. Fantastic) So basic toiletries and so other miscellaneous errands had to be run. I was miraculously not tired whatsoever (lie) and ran around all over my side of Christchurch. Fantastic park right next to the hostel made an awesome evening run right after a cheap but greasy dinner. I went to bed at 9 30 pm that day. Which was just as the sun was setting. Perfect. Woke up at 6 30 the next morning and packed my stuff up and went to the train station.

The train journey I took has been rated the sixth most beautiful train ride in the world. It was pretty amazing, I will admit. However, there were two older middle age people (husband and wife) who were quite possibly the most annoying people on the planet. They were from Cupertino California, I said I had come from Los Angeles, to which the woman replied to her two Kiwi seatmates, “they’re weird down there” And so I quickly turned to my window and didn’t look at them again. Mainly because they proceeded, together, in tandem and tag team fashion, spend the 4.5 hour train ride ranting about how the liberal media is ruining America, how it’s so sad that everyone is getting indoctrinated into liberal extremism in school, how Al Gore just tells plain flat out lies, how great Nascar is, and pretty much every stereotypical conservative viewpoint, interest, or bias. Oh yeah, they ranted about how great Bill O’Reilly and Ann Coulter are. (She’s so witty and no one can argue against her because she’s so smart.) Wow. It was awful, they were the loud boisterous American type that subjected our entire train car to their tirade. It made me cry. Finally I called upon Van Morrison and Steely Dan to shut them up. They also complained about how the younger generations are so lazy and expect free handouts all the time. I don’t think they could have attacked one more thing I could be offended by. It was absolutely awful. I was going to go off on them, seriously, but I thought to myself as I thought up how to express my objections that a) they wouldn’t listen to me one bit and b) I had the maturity and sensitivity to not use this opportunity (like my offenders had) to satisfy my personal desire to trounce these wackies at the expense of my entire train car’s enjoyment of this beautiful ride. No, I tried to concentrate on the kickass gorges, mountains, fields of wildflowers and old mines.

I was then picked up at the station by my first WWOOF host. To distinguish myself and make it easier on my host to find me in the train throng I wore my Nike running hat, and had told her I would be wearing a white ball cap. I obviously wasn’t thinking. Wearing a white Nike hat was the wrong first impression I wanted to make to a major hippie. With curt directions I was told where to put my stuff, where the car was and that (in an annoyed tone0 my host had errands to do in town. That’s ok I cheerfully responded I’d like to run some errands myself. I needed to send some mail, change more currency over and first and foremost get something to eat. Which I did.

After 4 days with this host, I have realized what one of the things I’ll “learn or take away” from this experience (being abroad that is) is dealing with being offended. I was explicitly warned about it in Ireland, that people will offend you but you can’t take it seriously, its part of the Irish humor. So that was ok, I could deal with that, then the moment I stepped into New Zealand, I was floored, almost literally floored with the friendliness and the ubiquity of the friendliness in this country. But I got stuck to shit-hole Californians on the train and offended offended offended. And now, this first host, is the first person I’ve met in New Zealand who is not in anyway, friendly. In fact, she’s downright offensive and derisive in her tone and behavior toward pretty much everyone. Although, I’ve learned more about her and I know where it’s coming from, but I am most assuredly being taught how to deal with constantly being offended…well, it just is a bit wearisome, but I’m holding up well. I am not letting it get to me I don’t think. Perhaps because being by myself I don’t really have any room or space to be actually indignant. And probably more specifically, anyone to be indignant to, except the transgressor, which when it’s the person feeding you, its not quite prudent to bite her hand. Indeed.

So anyway, my host’s home is in a National Park and the house is on a hill that spread down below it a large biodynamic garden. The hill opens out onto the ocean and so, let’s just say it’s probably one of the most beautiful views ever. Like really. New Zealand’s flora in this area reminds me of Jurassic Park. The palms and tree, green and stony bluffs makes me feel like I’m walking through prehistoric jungles. It’s pretty freaking sweet. Although, my accommodations, hah. Get this.

I flew halfway across the world and traded my cold rainy windy stone shack with no toilet, or electricity really, or heat, for, drum roll…..a hot sunny, tin and plywood 5 foot by 6 foot shack with no toilet (the forest is the pee spot (sound familiar)) and no electricity. In fact, I’m still sleeping in my sleeping bag. But guess what…Sean is happy because its WARM! The composting dry toilet is a little more sophisticated than our bucket but pretty much everything else is the same. Well, save for the fact that my meals are made for me and aren’t out of a can or Brian frying eggs. Although, those eggs were fantastic. So yeah. Not much has changed. Except for my daily activities and my surroundings. There is one other WWOOFER who has been here a week already and is a 19 year old student from Skidmore College. He’s cool and it’s been a lifesaver that he’s here and figured out our hosts already for me. He also is providing my way out for moving on to the next WWOOF host. We are ditching out on Monday. But, since he’s been here working so hard for a week, we got yesterday off as a vacation, completely off. Which was great. We hiked up a local river having missed the actual trailhead but had an amazing time nonetheless. We found a sweet ass boulder with a deep crystal clear pool swirling around it. Needless to say we decided we needed to climb it and dive off into this perfect swimming/diving spot. Beautiful sunshine and beautiful freezing cold river. But awesome. Also, a wild goat chased us. We think maybe we were in its territory, but it actually charged us whilst we were on the boulder. We had to dive in and swim to the other side to escape it. It was quite comical. We had a wonderful day off. Supposedly it rains 2 out of 3 days on the West Coast (where I currently am) which I did not know until I got out here. Seemed like a bad decision on my part since I was also trying to escape the rain. But, as if its an act of God, it has not rained since I arrived in the country. (bad for the garden, good for this gardener) So I think fortune is smiling upon me and I am really grateful. It’s been a wonderful experience so far and I’m only 4 days in. I think I’ll be heading south next, or perhaps north to wine country. Not sure, wherever, I end up, it will be awesome I’m sure. Also, I’m eager to hitchhike which apparently is like hitchhiking in America in the 50s or something, like, when it was really safe, easy and fun. That’s the word on the street from everyone I’ve talked to. I seriously can’t get over how friendly people are here. I haven’t been able to have one short interchange with a stranger since I arrived. Everyone engages me in at least a 5 minute (not exaggerating) conversation at checkouts, counters, the bank teller. Everywhere, its awesome. But I feel bad about holding up lines, but I’ve been told that its just part of Kiwi culture and not to worry. I like it. It fits me well, since I’m not normally that friendly on my own. Its great to have an entire people bring it out in you. It certainly has made me feel at home and like this was the best decision I’ve made in a long time. In a word, I guess you could say that I’m happy. And interestingly enough, not having a hard time “being on my own” which I’m sure is due to the nice weather and nice people. I think also because I was so ready to launch out on my own from the get go. So things are going well. Except that my poor Irish skin just burnt like forgotten toast. Where did my California skin go? Damn it. I’ll be trying to repair that in the coming days…

PS. Sorry this hugmongously large entry isn’t funny or anything. I guess so much has happened I just tried to get it all down without really embellishing. A lot of stuff happens that I just keep thinking, I’ll need to relay this experience in person. Because, well, I just do. So this is sort of like cataloging so I don’t forget anything, but will trigger my memories when I need to ramble on and on about my adventures in “Godland” New Zealand, really is amazing guys. Oh, and a system I think we should adopt in the States…it’s like kegs but on a smaller scale. For recycling type purposes and perhaps others you can take 2 liter plastic bottles to the pubs and fill them up with beer. Isn’t that wonderful? They are called “riggers”. We need this. It’s great. Which reminds me, this entry is not done.

This is mainly for my father, but last night I was taken to this crazy little shack where they broadcast a local independent radio show. Its these aging hipsters who drink wine and smoke pot and play all this crazy old American music and like Westerner themed music and pretty much are awesomely hilarious. Well last night, they had a “Thanksgiving night” (a week late right, well that’s the Kiwis) and they alternated between Monty Python songs like “Eric the Half a Bee” and “Always Look on the Bright Side of Life” and Jimmy Buffett. I was in heaven. Isn’t that just perfect? Well. Yes, yes it is.

What is my life?

So I'm in Kiwi Country, aka New Zealand now. After 24 hours of flying I am suprisingly not jetlagged. perhaps because it was an entire day. and well, I landed in New Zealand and it was sunny and warm. phew I'm back home. I also am looking at my hands right now and they are pukey pale. like awful. Which, by the way, I read an article in Scientific American about the positive effects of sun exposure. The sun scare with skin cancer has actually driven the majority of the Northern Hemisphere (well really just US and Europe) into a Vitamin D deficiency which is causing all sorts of health risks. Moderate, non-sun screened exposure to the sun is good for you (duh because thats what was planned by nature) So, I'm not wearing sunscreen. And I'm going in the sun.

so far I like new zealand. people are really friendly and helpful and are really the first people who have been genuinely enthused about my nationality (the irish sort of were, but in a racist way that sort of lost its charm and the eastern europeans weren't enthused whatsoever, to understate things a bit)...

not that i blame any of them. what is this shit going on with Iran? are you serious? and wanting to revamp our nuclear arsenal? yeah, that's where I'd choose to spend billions more dollars that we DONT have. sigh.

So yeah, i'm back in shorts and a tshirt, which is much better for me than long underwear and a hooded sweatshirt, sleeves full of snot. Although, my whole skin died right before leaving Ireland and now I'm a scaly lizard. Don't know how Ireland dried my skin out...the physics of the country are simply mind boggling. I've also dealt with the whole traveling alone thing pretty well so far. i guess we'll see how it goes after a couple of days not traveling. Whilst traveling, I just sort of get into game mode, where like, shit needs to get done, like figuring out where to catch the bus, and then riding the bus. I had a complete brain malfunction in Heathrow, repeating to myself almost outloud that I needed to go to Terminal 4 before proceeding to walk straight past the Terminal 4 bus and getting on the Terminal 3 bus, for absolutely NO reason. I didn't realize I had not meant to go 3 until I had walked around the terminal and realized it was only British Airways there...thank god for the long layover.

anyway, i'm here I'm ok. I'm working on getting contact stuff up besides internet, but oh well. Tomorrow morning I'm taking the 6th most beautiful train journey in the world...(ranked by whom I still don't know) and I'll try to post again soon, once I'm settled on the West Coast and not Christchurch. Happy no longer winter.

Bob LoBlaw's Law Blog

It would seem that almost every jackoff has a blog. But it does make me quite happy. Some people are really good at 'blogging' and really, they're are quite entertaining to read. I'm glad I can keep up with all my friends through blogs. wave of the future yadda yadda.

not sure where I'm going with that.

it rained again today and I wanted to jump off a bridge. actually, I didn't mind so much. I stayed in bed for a long time today. stop judging me. i was really comfy.

I went with a friend to run errands and walked into a PC World. Hah. It was so funny how struck I was. I walked around bug eyed just marveling in the gadgets gadgety gadgetry. How long I've been away from all that crap and how sleek and gadgety it all looks! oh and bought some guacamole. i don't suggest trying a dip made almost exclusively from a fruit that doesn't grow in 1000+ miles from where you are. it sucked. but made me happy nonetheless. It's been a while since I've had chips and guacamole, or as they say in Ireland, crisps. I even had chili and lime chips, now we're talking. It reminded me of eating Tostitos Hint of Lime by the bagfuls and the summer I became an alcoholic...was it Jeff who perceptively stated "Hint of Lime? More like Hurricane of Lime" my memory doesn't count for anything, it could have been my dog who said that I can't quite remember. Sigh, Mexican food.

Although, I must say, I've had the strangest feeling as though my sojourn in Eastern Europe was actually a sojourn in the United States...not necessarily because the geography is eerily similar to the midwest and some parts of the eastern west, haha, you know where I'm talking about? I did feel like driving through the Plain states with some forest sprinkled here and there. Anyway, beside the point. I somehow coming back to Buncrana after having been away feel as though I went home...or rather that the length of time I've spent outside the States doesn't seem quite so vast anymore. Weird? maybe, or it was all just make believe. I think my brain might be slightly broken. Or it could be this all bread diet with a splash of Guinness that I've been living on since returning. Oh, I guess I lied. I had some chips and guac. I have been trying to remember some of my early experiences here and they seem so long ago. Did four months really go by so quickly? Apparently. Sometimes I feel like there is a conspiracy, somewhere, 'out there'. conspiring.

I still haven't gotten over graduating college. I can already tell this is going to turn into a shit I can't recall the word, pathos, pathology, pathogen...none of the above. damn it. It's going to be a problem for the rest of life in an unhealthy way. That's what I mean. Well shucks.

I am going to go walk home in the cold, by myself, to my cold and empty shack and I'm going to lie down in my cold bed, by myself and do something or maybe nothing. poor poor me. poor me. hahahah. save it. see ya round.

oh, as a final thought. i am really happy that sort of without knowing it in the beginning I named this blog exactly what it should be named. And I'm really happy about it.

Enough turd posts?

So it hasn't rained for two days. That means I'm on cloud nine. It is amazing to see how interconnected my mood and emotions are with the weather. I know I've mentioned it before and I know that it's exacerbated because I haven't a home to shut out the weather but still. I think I've accumulated enough evidence to argue for a permanent home in LA.

Also, I will put a poll at the bottom of this page asking all of you if you'd like me to continue with the blog after I leave Ireland. I am toying with the idea and am not sure what to do. Your input will help. It might not be as depressing after I leave (haha) but I can almost guarantee adventure and interesting stories. So yeah?

It's amazing how quickly this final time will fly. I am almost already gone. But its sort of bittersweet because I just got back and yesterday I was walking around town just enjoying being back and seeing all the people I haven't seen in so long. With the end come all the final thoughts and oddly enough, I'd say, perhaps more from other people than from myself. I don't really feel the need to talk about the end. That's what the few weeks after the end can be for or something.

I have some worries however that the house won't survive. I've tried very hard to get it to a point where I can basically simply maintain most of the work we've done to it so it can be picked up at a later date and pushed further along. But, those thoughts lead to future thoughts, and the whole point of this first year out of college was NO future thoughts or plans or whatnot, and yet I find myself already planning the next 3-4 years out. Well, ferk that. I guess I just can't avoid it. And now, that stupid Into the Wild movie keeps creeping into my thoughts whenever I entertain those type motifs.

I did think of this yesterday though that brings a smile to my face. Maybe it's just me, but, haha, before a year has passed since graduating I will have literally, yes, literally, circled the globe. Haha, what a thought. Certainly, not what I had planned. It's amazing what the mere thought of warmth and sunshine can do to my mood, even though I'm still sick, it gets dark at 5pm (which means I go to bed at around 6pm) and I now no longer cease to see my breath. Oh and also! I took another outdoor shower yesterday. I didn't think I'd make it this far...November 15th, that's pretty late in the year to be taking outdoor showers with groundwater. maybe that's why I'm still sick....nahhh. It's been staying out here that gave me the superb immune system I had before a 10 day drinking binge while confined to a shit Ford Fiesta with a disease bag (Crosby, ahem) that finally broke it. Eastern Europe was fascinating. by the way.

Fascinating mainly because, well it seems to be the general consensus, but speaking only for myself, Behind the Iron Curtain was not really the realm of any primary education, and, as I chose a rather esoteric college course of study and practically mundane course of study (pre-med) I never came across it there. And to think, my dear Elliot, a Russian major. Ok, I take that back, I briefly encountered Eastern European/Russian issues in my final course at Pomona, Religion and the Environment, mainly through the book Blood and Oil by I believe Michael Klare, let me check...yes, I was right. In this book, I learned about the struggles to secure oil deposits by the Soviet Union. But besides that. I knew nothing about Czech and Slovak Republics, very little about Germany (besides a lot of the literary and philosophical figures and WWII stuff), nothing about Hungary and to be very honest, I would not have been able to locate Poland on a map...Now, after pouring over maps after map while driving through the Slovak countryside, or through the Tatra mountains on the Czech and Polish border and circling around the labyrinth of Bratislavan streets, or yuckin' it up with Lithuanians in Budapest, I can now confidently locate almost any Eastern European country on a map and probably could tell you a little bit about it, except for the southern Eastern European countries....which I've been told should be saved for summer. I know nothing about Moldova and didn't know Macedonia was a modern day country apart from it's Biblical land claims. Sigh, we can all now admit how extremely lacking our primary education in the States is...and that was back in the 90s when it was half-way decent! Hah. I still will never forget being absolutely mortified in college taking my first class on Islam (Sufism: Islamic Mysticism) and being shocked when we began to study a prominent Sufi from...gasp! Spain. Spain? Now that doesn't make any sense, until it was painfully explained to me that the Islamic Empire, the Fertile Crescent, was actually a crescent of land that stretched from Spain all the way to Southeast Asia. Doh! The moors of Spain...the spanish architecture....well, thank you primary education you sufficiently blocked out oh say half the globe in my education on 'civilizations'. But to be fair, we only had 12 years.

I'm rereading the Golden Bowl (it finally came in from library exchange, from some place in Gweedore (really rural)) by Henry James. I had to read this my first year in college for my Modernism: London and Berlin course. Well, I was so taken with it and thought I understood the author's tone and the interplay between characters so well, I wrote furiously about it only to have it torn to shreds by the head of the department, Miss Else Lasker-Schuler herself. No, that was just the writer she had taken to emulating this year. So frustrating, that course. But I wanted to reread it to see if after another 3 1/2 years I still had those convictions. I still love the book, and have a sneaking suspicion I still had an accurate analysis. What was the point of this..? I had a point. Oh. that's it. So, in the Golden Bowl there is a character who is American, but travels all over and most of her social circle (as we can gather from the book) is not American, but there is an interesting point brought up that rang true for me now... let's see if I can find it.

well after a damn long search I found it, and it turns out its not quite as clear of any sort of point as I thought, but I'm struck by it regardless:

This character is struck by the type of day it is in London as she is walking around with an Italian. She feels strongly about the 'weather-washed English type' day it is.

"So far as this was the case the impression of course could only be lost on a mere vague Italian; it was one of those for which you had to be, blessedly, an American--as indeed you had to be, blessedly, American for all sorts of things: so long as you hadn't, blessedly or not, to remain in America."

Take from it what you will.

What else is there? I'm afraid my life can be quite boring and normal when I'm not in a flurry of unnecessary distress. I could tell stories from our adventure, but let's be honest, those are best told in person or at least over the phone. Some things you just can't write, unless it's in a novel form. Which. I'm not going to do now. Sorry.

I am extremely excited to begin training again. As part of this year of no plans, part of it included taking a huge break from running (which I more or less did whilst here). But. Enough is enough. I can't wait to get back into it, especially in warmer weather. I surprisingly haven't filled out more. But I can tell I'm horribly out of shape. It is a good sign for the future (or that my metabolism hasn't quite slowed down yet...). Four months of pretty much no exercise with the onslaught of winter normally resulting in a bulking up. Nope, still got it. Although I did notice on pair of pants felt a bit tighter. Wow, what an alarm bell that sent ringing. There is some primal fear, I believe, in men, who view themselves as aging in gaining weight, or at least girth.

On that note, I'm going to go finish my loaf of bread breakfast.

Better

Well, I'm doing much better. Perhaps its because the rain stopped. The sky is still ominously grey and unyielding. But, I've moved out of my bed and started working on the house again, in small steps. With such little time left, there isn't much I can really do. I am glad to be back but I am also glad to be leaving again. I think it's clear that it is time to move on and do something new. And really, let's be honest. I just can't wait for warmth and sunshine again. It was actually that singular thought that improved my mood drastically last night. Things aren't so bad, regardless of what my mind tells itself about this project etc etc etc.

Being alone is sometimes really dangerous. Haha. Ah well. More later I suppose.

Mixed Mash, Muck. yup.

So much.

So I am back in Buncrana after a 10 day tour de force in Eastern Europe. It was fantastic. Crosby Brian and I went to rock the Continent and we ended up getting rocked. No big surprise. But let's just say, hitting Berlin, Dresden, Prague, Bratislava, Budapest, and Krakow in 10 days is pretty impressive. Dresden was interesting but small. Prague, was beautiful but touristy, Bratislava was desolate but a labyrinth, Budapest Crosby got decked in the face and Krakow was cold but pretty darn cool.

I'm not sure how I can recount the entire vacation. So many funny, so many crazy, so many just well things. Perhaps over the next few days I'll try to recall them all.

Actually, everything right now is a little crazy and I've had some time to reflect upon it all but haven't been in the mood to record any of it. I have a cold and I'm guessing that's the main reason I haven't had the energy to write. It's cold back here in Buncrana. We had beautiful weather pretty much the whole trip in Eastern Europe, chilly, but sunny and bright and no rain really and just impressive. But now I'm back to the slightly more moderate temperature but depressing omnipresent clouds and wind that mimicks animals poking around my shambles of a house. The sky constantly threatens rain.

Apparently the sequel to Once a Runner is now available through the Publisher "Breakaway Books" but I'm a little sketched out considering the previous year of speculation and rumors about release etc. If it's not available on Amazon.com, I won't believe it's available anywhere. Anyway, Runner's World had an excerpt from the book which is promising...but also completely disappointing. Skeptical that Once a Runner could possibly be matched even by it's own author, my cynical attitude was validated by this excerpt. Reading it, it read like Parker's prose, but in his attempt to remind us of the original novel by recalling various details and picking up the story, HE GOT ONE OF HIS OWN DETAILS WRONG. I noticed this right away, cried out in pain and then double checked with my copy as soon as I got home. I was indeed correct. Parker had confused one of the details between the first and second books. Now, I may be a fanatic, and he may have had 1000 times more things to occupy his attention in regards to this new book, but come on! I noticed it on the first read over. Certainly, his knowledge of the book and story should be greater than mine? Anyway, for those who are fans of the book. To clarify, if you happen to read either the excerpt or the new Book. The nickname Quintus Cassidamius, was NOT given to Cassidy by one of his teammates. He claims he made it up himself in OAR. C'mon Parker. It's important to the development of his character that he made it up himself. Sigh. Anyway.

We met some awesome Spaniards on our journey. More on them later.

My worries over the border crossing back into Ireland have been allayed. At immigration. I was granted another month of legal residence in Ireland. Phew.

I am awaiting my last visitor and my subsequent plane flight out of here. I am moving on, but not going home. Which, I have mixed feelings about. But like I said, I'm a little too under the weather to sort out right now. I need to write it all out first and then post it here as opposed to trying to compose on the fly, comme ca.

My last night in Dublin, I went to the movies with a few friends. We saw Into the Wild, the new movie directed by Sean Penn, with Emile Hirsch and based off Krakouer (sp?)'s book about the true story of Chris McCandless from West Virginia. I was initially worried that this movie would be about a guy just like me, who does something similar to me but way more badass and cooler and better at it etc... That was not something I wanted to see. But I have not read the novel, and I read an article about the movie in Outside magazine which totally intrigued me. It seemed like a compelling story, something I was quite interested in and would love to see/read. Brian had certain misgivings about Krakouer and so I thought, perfect. I'll see the movie. Plus, the article seemed to praise Penn's meticulous attention to detail and intentions of "Staying true to the story" especially considering the amount of drama and conflict went into the production of the film with the McCandless family. I thought, this could be a good one.

Well I saw it. and was at first, thoroughly disappointed. which then, slowly developed into anger. Needless to say, it got me all worked up about a lot of issues wrapped up in my own story that had previously stayed subdued for a damn good reason. So, the movie ignited 3 months worth of bottled up self conflict (and you thought it was coming out in this blog? hah.) and well, my opinions on the movie, its flaws, issues, style, implied meanings, and how it relates to me and my story will all come out a bit later, again, once I've sorted it all out. Grr. Bluck.

Needless to say. I wish I had more discipline. Talk to you later.

Thoughts on the Road in October

Monday October 29, 2007

Riding the bus back down to Dublin. The light fades over the hills and hedges that make up the Irish landscape. Anticipating a hectic early morning I let myself begin to fade with the light. Intermittently cracking an eye to see the rows of heads swaying in unison. It’s the end of a bank holiday and the roads are busy. The bus is full of travelers, mostly students returning to campus.

This weekend has been reminiscent of those in college, however, my life isn’t quite as put together as it was back in Claremont, and so the toll of three day benders is greater. I must remind myself also, that I’m living in a small town again. The freedom of anonymity and lack of responsibility for drunken behavior is no longer a buffer against reputation. Damn.

In addition, we had guests. And we didn’t get nearly as much accomplished with the house as both Brian and I were hoping. Brian however, is no longer “under the gun” to get miscellaneous projects around the house completed as this bus ride is the last he’ll see of Inishowen for quite some time. Here on out, I’m on my own. So with those things weighing on my hungover shoulders I feel anxious. Crosby arrived on Saturday and I spent the day trying to recover from my first night without Brian and in the company of local friends. Playing frogger with the bus system to somehow navigate my way to Belfast left little energy for anything else. Excited to see Crosby, I thought only of getting us back to Buncrana. But it’s been nice. Crosby’s foreignness by comparison makes me feel quite local and again, proud of “my” community. It’s these scarce moments that lift the background of anxiety and worry. The difference is so subtle but strong. It’s like wearing sunglasses, only noticing the difference when they are lifted. It’s refreshing to say the least.

So here we all are. On the bus after a drunken weekend, about to embark on a week and a half of who knows what. Certainly, standing on the brink of the unknown. We have plane reservations and car reservations and that’s it. No language skills, no maps, no plans. Plenty of audacity. Aren’t we surprised.

It’s a strange feeling knowing I’ll be coming back alone. It seems to a certain extent to have already hit. Brian’s attitude has definitely been one of resignation to the end. He’s already departed. And Crosby, never really was signed on for Inishowen or the house, his mind resides solely in this trip to Eastern Europe. Whereas, while I’m looking forward (quite eagerly) to this break, I think the vast unknown of Eastern Europe eludes even my ability to mythologize it. Perhaps, it’s simply a lack of interest, or has been put on the back burner? Perhaps, this notion of leaving and being left is attracting all my attention. The future seems just too amorphous to begin to draw lines around.

Being left. Hmm.

I like the thought, even though it does fill me with that creeping dread of some unknown danger. But one I know will be diffused. Buncrana is home enough now. And I can look upon my return with excitement. That is if I survive driving in Eastern Europe, something about which I am extremely excited. I am craving to drive again. In a way, since this trip required that I buy a ticket out of Ireland for good, I too, have begun to leave. My mind often runs to thoughts of New Zealand and my next step, a part of my future easily filled with dreams, lines, plans, form. And so being stuck here straddling two diverging rivers I find myself nervous and anxious. Anything but settled.