Did I tell you?

I wrestled a sheep the other day. I know, I know. Such a New Zealand cliche! But I really did. Not so much wrestle as restrain. I also herded cows. Placid cows, mind you, who knew the routine, but I could tell they were really put out by us. I am now going to risk getting kicked out of Animal Management school and commit anthropomorphic sin by imagining the cows were thinking this:

"Good grief, Bessie, here comes a fresh batch of Unitec students to "herd" us into the imaginary adjacent pasture. I think this year we should bust through the electrified fence since it's always turned off for the dumb ass students' protection."

Bessie lifts her head and says to Shaniqua, "Girl, you're whack if you think I'm doing that again. Don't you remember that damn heifer Fontana got her ass whooped by Daisy Mae when she tried running over the students last year?"

"Bitch, who you calling heifer?"

And so on.

Anyway, I wanted to tell you this to illustrate further how different my life is now than it was 8 weeks ago. In my new life, I know how to wrangle a sheep, sort of. I know that I don't like sheep, and I know that not all cows are called Bessie and Daisy. Some cows have cool names like Shaniqua and Fontana. You go, girls!

On another note:

Tonight the lights go out in Auckland and all over the world. Supposedly, the Sky City Tower will be the first to go. I cannot believe that all I have to do is walk half a block to witness it first hand. I also cannot believe that this time last year I was at a party in Christchurch deciding that I was definitely going to move to New Zealand. The lights went out that night, too.

Good night!!

Felines out

I was able to spring my cats from quarantine two weeks ago, and they are settling in nicely. Too nicely for my taste as they have officially become indoor/outdoor cats. I knew it was inevitable, but it's been hard to watch their transformation from housecats to prowlers of the suburbs . I wouldn't normally choose to let them be outside cats because there's so much danger out there, but there was no alternative. You see, here there are no such things as screens on windows or screen doors. Everything is wide open to the great outdoors, and since it is early fall, still quite warm and no such thing as air conditioning, the doors and windows are kept open when I'm home.

Big Cal is addicted to the underbelly of the house which is a good thing. The sun is so hot here because of a lack of ozone layer, and skin cancer is prevelant. Lots of kitties end up with skin cancer, and it's common to tattoo white ears to prevent this. So the more Cal chooses to stay in the shade the better.

It took Olivia a bit longer to put her precious paws on the wonders of grass, and for a while I was hopeful she'd have no part of it. Unfortunately, she's now just as keen as Cal to go out. No more happy housecat - she's joined the feline liberation movement.

The only rule is they must be in the house when I'm not here. As if that will keep them safe...

Sincerest ablogogies

Are there rules for blogs? If so, I bet there's one that states "if one exclaims to friends that one is going to blog and one takes the time to create a blog page, one is expected to blog on a regular basis. Otherwise, one is going to be chastised by one's friends and arrested by the blog patrol and thrown in the blog jail." Poor one. I wonder if this rule applies to other numbers? Surely it does not apply to me. I have, however, fallen down on my blog duties, and for that I apologize. In my defense, I still do not have access to the internet at home. When I'm at school, I tend to answer all my emails, study online notes from our lectures and do research for this scientific(ish) paper I'm expected to write.

Rule number two (which, ironically, still applies to one only), "it is recommended that one's blog be longer than two short paragraphs and one should refrain from excessive blogging about blogging (see rule number three)." So much pressure to put on lonely ol' ONE!!! Glad I don't have to follow those stinking rules!

Well, I am going to add a third paragraph for the sole purpose of sending a great big shout out to my young friend, Susanne McDonald, who apparently had a fantastic run as Scout in the Charleston Stage Company's production of "To Kill a Mockingbird". When she first told me she was auditioning, I told her I would be there opening night (I had no doubt she'd get the part), unless I had moved to New Zealand. Well, I wasn't there opening night... I read the great reviews of her performance. No surprise there. Congratulations, Susanne!!

Will write more later in week. I just found out that I AM "ONE"!

Am not on a holiday

I'm here in the land of the long white cloud at last. Up front, I must apologize for the sheer boringness of this post. (If boringness is not a word, I will add it to my dictionary of fun, made up words which includes my all time favorite, "funner"- because it's funnier without the i.) Anyway, it's boring because I really haven't done anything exciting since I've arrived. Instead, I've managed to open a bank account, get a cell phone, find a place to live and buy a bed all in 7 days. The bank account and cell phone happened within the first 5 hours and the place to live within 24 hours, so I am quite proud of that! I've done all this by repeatedly saying to myself, "Am not on a holiday. Cannot go bungy jumping off Sky City Tower. Cannot get on ferry to the Great Barrier Islands. Cannot go to museum. Cannot walk into that kitchen store with the super cute plates in the window."

It's been tough at times. Right now the weather is Charleston hot and humid, the sun is dangerously strong, there is no such thing as air conditioning, and apparently the walls of my hotel room are made of paper. I've probably lost over 5 pounds from all the walking I've done and because food is incredibly expensive. I've eaten lots of Ramen noodles, and they cost 3 bucks fifty each! If I were on vacation I'd be pissed. Luckily, I'm not. As if to prove that point further, I haven't even taken a single photo since I've been here.

I found a roommate who rents a house in a quaint beachside suburb called Pt. Chevalier. The house is a wooden Victorian cottage (a ubiquitous design in NZ) about two blocks from the beach. I'm looking forward to getting out of the hotel tomorrow and moving in. We shall see how it goes living with a complete stranger with only one bathroom (also a ubiquitous design in NZ).

Well, I'm on a public computer and my time is running short. Sorry for the lack of creativity here - I'm just so tired and really hungry. Will probably eat a $4 banana for breakfast. I promise to post photos soon. Non-vaca photos, of course.

Unemployment, OSHA and other wondrous things

The sun has set on my first full week of unemployment.    I have just under a week before beginning my new life in the Southern Hemisphere where everything is upside down, reversed, counter- clockwise and, yes,  already tomorrow.   Gravity and the International Date Line are wondrous things.   Right up there with giraffe tongues and Greyhounds.  

I decided to give myself two weeks of leeway to make sure I had plenty of time to tie up loose ends, but I'm already beginning to regret it.   Granted, I managed to accomplish several things on my list, but I spent much of the week planted in front of this darn laptop.  What's so different about that than if I'd been at work?  I'm still sitting on my bony arse surfing the net!!

  Okay, it has been mostly worthwhile usage of the World Wide Web (another wondrous thing), but when will it stop??   When will my ass no longer be betrothed to  hard-seated chairs with no lumbar support? Chairs so ergonomically egregious they'd be profiled on OSHA's Ten Most Wanted poster if there was such a thing.  OSHA is not a wondrous thing.  Admittedly, the only thing I know about OSHA is that they required us to install an "eye wash station" at the vet clinic I managed several years ago.   Its purpose was to wash irritating chemicals out of one's eyeballs - picture a double faucet where the water runs UP.  The thought of having to use the evil tap so frightened me, I was always extra super duper careful around caustic chemicals.  Yes, I was more afraid of the water torture device than dangerous blinding liquids.

Wow, I digress.  I didn't start this blog to talk about OSHA, rogue chemicals, random wondrous things or even unemployment.  I was ordered by some friends to start it.    They'll be the only ones reading this.  At first.  Then, no one will read it.  Including me.

I've quit my job as a paralegal (a job that allowed me to own a home, travel and pay off my credit cards on a monthly basis), sold many personal belongings, rented out my home and will head to New Zealand in one week to study animal management and welfare (leading to a career that will most assuredly not allow me to return to the aforementioned life). What the @#$% am I doing?  The economy stinks.  I should be hunkering down like the rest of the good people of this nation and world.  But I can't.  If I stayed  I know I would  eventually poke my eyes out in frustration.  I was coming dangerously close, seriously, and OSHA would not have been there to fix them.

This is the point where I might write, "and so the journey begins dot dot dot" but that would make it sound as if I expected anyone who reads this to be enthralled by my plans.  OH, PUHLEEEEZE (ode to Amy & Kath).  I don't take myself that seriously, and I certainly don't want anyone to think I do.  I want to stumble happily and drunkenly along this path, and if you care to follow, you need to be just as happy and you'd better be just as drunk.  Sometimes just drunk on circumstances and surroundings and at other times drunk on a really good Pinot Grigio. 

By the way, I have no place to live when I get down there.  I've secured temporary lodging and  given myself 10 days to find a permanent place once I arrive.  Wish me luck.  I need it.