Transitions
After an 11 hour plane ride on Tuesday night I arrived in SFO on Tuesday morning. Gotta love that 21 hour time difference. I almost didn't want to get off the plane because it would mean my vacation was over AND I'd have to stop watching movies. Air New Zealand has an awesome feature even in coach (or Pacific Class) that allows each person to watch a personal screen and remote in order to choose from a wide list of movies or TV. I saw 3 weird movies I would never have watched otherwise.
Immigration and Customs was a breeze and I treated myself to a quick cab ride home. Unpacking was breezy and I even watched some TV, with Jeff arriving home while I was in the shower. There was much kissing and embracing and rubbing and as much sex as I realized I was missing. Then Jeff made dinner and we hung out and talked.
Being back feels surreal to me--New Zealand is so much like the US, but just ever so slightly NOT. People are mellower and slower about everything. People really are "no worries man" which is a lot coming from a Californian. They are also SO NICE. People are happy to chat and are so genuinely nice. The surrealness is aided by the fact that a lot of the country looks like the coastal areas of California. Punakaiki looked a lot like Santa Barbara. Parts of the North Island looked like New England--turns out because prison crews planted rows of trees that grow in NE back at the turn of the last century.
Everyone is white, but there are a few Maori faces floating around. There are also plenty of Asians both amongst tourists and natives. On my last day in Wellington I chatting with an Indian who told me he preferred NZ to the US as the community is tight-knit while the US is so wide and impersonal. That felt true as in every town we hit most people seemed to know each other. NZ felt like a string of small, mostly friendly, towns.
Despite the few adventures I had, like in NZ felt pretty 'normal' too as returning to Wellington, I was back with my friends who did much the same stuff they liked to do in the US: watch TV, do to dinner, see movies, wander the downtown.
The real way to know I was in a foreign place (besides the accents) was the animals. They really were everywhere and they we SO DIFFERENT from the ones in the US. From the furry, soft brown haired possums on the side of the road, to the huge black swans floating and bobbing on the shore of Lake Taupop to the heaps of large crawfish at Kelly Tarleton's acquarium in Auckland. Animals everywhere. I ended up seeing 3 different types of penguins, two kinds of dolphin, and a host of other beasts of land and sea that looked like nothing in the US. With the exception of the pigeon and sparrow who are EVERYWHERE.
Not seeing animals all around me feels like the worst part of being back. Last night, in my sleep, I felt so confused as I couldn't tell where I was. I kept thinking I was in some hybrid place of America and New Zealand or that they were the same place or some variation on the strangeness. My alarm, getting ready, the train, it was all too much.
It doesn't help that I still feel this itch for change. I was feeling it before I left and I thought maybe the desire came from wanting to travel, but now that I've traveling and I still feel it, I know it's a need more something more. I think my routine is wearing me down. I think my house payments and my increased mortgage payments (bastards) is wearing me down too. The thought of taking two classes doesn't cheer me either. I'm not sure what sort of change I need or what exactly I'm yearning for, but I feel it will come to me. I'm going to try and play with possible changes in my head and see what feels right. Maybe it's as simple as integrating regular exercise or training for a race. Maybe it's finishing school already. Maybe it's changing my job. I might be a little sick of Stanford. It's hard to say. I'd like to believe it isn't Jeff. Maybe I'm sick of my beautiful, cramped apartment. We'll see.
On the plus side of travel, I only got minorly plussed with a 7 pound weight gain despite many delicious dinners. I suspect it was the adventuring.
In Wellington, I saw something Joe and Kris called a bungey rocket. It's a roundish metal cage holding 3 seats suspended by two bungey cords (on either side) that are attached to two tall metal stands. If that doesn't make sense, I suppose you could check out the Sky Screamer web site as apparently it's not called a bungey rocket after all. Anyway, New Year's Eve I saw Joe, Kris and Christopher strap into this thing and launch into the air. It drifted up gently and then bounced twice before being gently lowered to the ground. For bungey, this seemed tame enough for the likes of me. So, I announced my intentions to the Ardents and for the next few days we missed every opportunity to ride it.
Leaving Wellington, I figured we were done. No bungey rocket for. But, as luck would have it, Auckland had one of those things too. For the two days we were in Auckland we passed it several times without getting on. I explained to Kris I need to adjust to having it be a possibility in my head--so I insisted we cruise it a few more times just so I could get use to it. Finally, after a nice dinner on my very last night in New Zealand, I told Kris I wanted to do it. She was amazed. She knew my fear of heights, speed, and rides in general, so she was super impressed I wanted to do it. We walked over only to discover the guy was closing down for the night. I was crushed, but turns out that NZ laid back attitude kicked in and even though it was Monday night, he offered to send us up. I paid for both of us to ride and before I knew it he was strapping us in. THAT'S WHEN I GOT SCARED.
Having this guy belt us into the ride got my tummy nervous (just thinking about how I got nervous gets me nervous as I type this), then I made the mistake of looking up. The towers were high--VERY high up. And the sky was so big. That's when I started saying "I don't think I can do this" and then looking bleakly at Kris. She asked, "Are you sure" to which I then repeated my statement to the attendant. He also asked "Are you Sure?" to which we all waited during a pregnant pause while I kicked my feet back and forth like a kid. "Yes" I said in a less than sure voice. To which the attendant responded by starting the machine which cause the metal cage to tilt. That's when I repeated a few more times "I don't think I can do this" and then switched to "I don't want to do this" to which the attendant kept saying "sure you can--it's fun" when suddenly he started counting down and Kris quickly told me "Just scream, it will make everything better."
Then WHOOSH!!!!
We flew really high into the air. Higher than NYEve in WEllington in fact, Kris tells me higher than any time she'd gone before. As the cage flew up, I felt the familiar "ah I don't want to do this" dread, but then we spun and hurtled back to the planet, face first, then we bounced and spun again. Somewhere in the middle of the first sping, I felt weirdly relieved, elated even. The adrenaline kicked my fear to the curb and the whole thing seemed fun. I was screaming my head off the entire time. The cage ended up spinning Three TIMES. No one told me that would happen. Even as we slowed to a gentle bob and the cage was lowered to the ground I continued screaming in this silly half-hearted "ah, ah ah" sort of way. Kris just laughed and when we got down she kept saying "I'm so proud of you--that was amazing--it was so drammatic." We decided as I weight a lot less than Joe and Christopher, the ride was able to do it's full-on bungey thing with all the spinning and bouncing it could muster. I bet even skinnier girls might lose their lunch with all the spinning.
The whole experience was amazing because I really felt myself get freed from my fear in a way that felt addictive. Maybe it's time to ride a roller coaster for real?
Immigration and Customs was a breeze and I treated myself to a quick cab ride home. Unpacking was breezy and I even watched some TV, with Jeff arriving home while I was in the shower. There was much kissing and embracing and rubbing and as much sex as I realized I was missing. Then Jeff made dinner and we hung out and talked.
Being back feels surreal to me--New Zealand is so much like the US, but just ever so slightly NOT. People are mellower and slower about everything. People really are "no worries man" which is a lot coming from a Californian. They are also SO NICE. People are happy to chat and are so genuinely nice. The surrealness is aided by the fact that a lot of the country looks like the coastal areas of California. Punakaiki looked a lot like Santa Barbara. Parts of the North Island looked like New England--turns out because prison crews planted rows of trees that grow in NE back at the turn of the last century.
Everyone is white, but there are a few Maori faces floating around. There are also plenty of Asians both amongst tourists and natives. On my last day in Wellington I chatting with an Indian who told me he preferred NZ to the US as the community is tight-knit while the US is so wide and impersonal. That felt true as in every town we hit most people seemed to know each other. NZ felt like a string of small, mostly friendly, towns.
Despite the few adventures I had, like in NZ felt pretty 'normal' too as returning to Wellington, I was back with my friends who did much the same stuff they liked to do in the US: watch TV, do to dinner, see movies, wander the downtown.
The real way to know I was in a foreign place (besides the accents) was the animals. They really were everywhere and they we SO DIFFERENT from the ones in the US. From the furry, soft brown haired possums on the side of the road, to the huge black swans floating and bobbing on the shore of Lake Taupop to the heaps of large crawfish at Kelly Tarleton's acquarium in Auckland. Animals everywhere. I ended up seeing 3 different types of penguins, two kinds of dolphin, and a host of other beasts of land and sea that looked like nothing in the US. With the exception of the pigeon and sparrow who are EVERYWHERE.
Not seeing animals all around me feels like the worst part of being back. Last night, in my sleep, I felt so confused as I couldn't tell where I was. I kept thinking I was in some hybrid place of America and New Zealand or that they were the same place or some variation on the strangeness. My alarm, getting ready, the train, it was all too much.
It doesn't help that I still feel this itch for change. I was feeling it before I left and I thought maybe the desire came from wanting to travel, but now that I've traveling and I still feel it, I know it's a need more something more. I think my routine is wearing me down. I think my house payments and my increased mortgage payments (bastards) is wearing me down too. The thought of taking two classes doesn't cheer me either. I'm not sure what sort of change I need or what exactly I'm yearning for, but I feel it will come to me. I'm going to try and play with possible changes in my head and see what feels right. Maybe it's as simple as integrating regular exercise or training for a race. Maybe it's finishing school already. Maybe it's changing my job. I might be a little sick of Stanford. It's hard to say. I'd like to believe it isn't Jeff. Maybe I'm sick of my beautiful, cramped apartment. We'll see.
On the plus side of travel, I only got minorly plussed with a 7 pound weight gain despite many delicious dinners. I suspect it was the adventuring.
In Wellington, I saw something Joe and Kris called a bungey rocket. It's a roundish metal cage holding 3 seats suspended by two bungey cords (on either side) that are attached to two tall metal stands. If that doesn't make sense, I suppose you could check out the Sky Screamer web site as apparently it's not called a bungey rocket after all. Anyway, New Year's Eve I saw Joe, Kris and Christopher strap into this thing and launch into the air. It drifted up gently and then bounced twice before being gently lowered to the ground. For bungey, this seemed tame enough for the likes of me. So, I announced my intentions to the Ardents and for the next few days we missed every opportunity to ride it.
Leaving Wellington, I figured we were done. No bungey rocket for. But, as luck would have it, Auckland had one of those things too. For the two days we were in Auckland we passed it several times without getting on. I explained to Kris I need to adjust to having it be a possibility in my head--so I insisted we cruise it a few more times just so I could get use to it. Finally, after a nice dinner on my very last night in New Zealand, I told Kris I wanted to do it. She was amazed. She knew my fear of heights, speed, and rides in general, so she was super impressed I wanted to do it. We walked over only to discover the guy was closing down for the night. I was crushed, but turns out that NZ laid back attitude kicked in and even though it was Monday night, he offered to send us up. I paid for both of us to ride and before I knew it he was strapping us in. THAT'S WHEN I GOT SCARED.
Having this guy belt us into the ride got my tummy nervous (just thinking about how I got nervous gets me nervous as I type this), then I made the mistake of looking up. The towers were high--VERY high up. And the sky was so big. That's when I started saying "I don't think I can do this" and then looking bleakly at Kris. She asked, "Are you sure" to which I then repeated my statement to the attendant. He also asked "Are you Sure?" to which we all waited during a pregnant pause while I kicked my feet back and forth like a kid. "Yes" I said in a less than sure voice. To which the attendant responded by starting the machine which cause the metal cage to tilt. That's when I repeated a few more times "I don't think I can do this" and then switched to "I don't want to do this" to which the attendant kept saying "sure you can--it's fun" when suddenly he started counting down and Kris quickly told me "Just scream, it will make everything better."
Then WHOOSH!!!!
We flew really high into the air. Higher than NYEve in WEllington in fact, Kris tells me higher than any time she'd gone before. As the cage flew up, I felt the familiar "ah I don't want to do this" dread, but then we spun and hurtled back to the planet, face first, then we bounced and spun again. Somewhere in the middle of the first sping, I felt weirdly relieved, elated even. The adrenaline kicked my fear to the curb and the whole thing seemed fun. I was screaming my head off the entire time. The cage ended up spinning Three TIMES. No one told me that would happen. Even as we slowed to a gentle bob and the cage was lowered to the ground I continued screaming in this silly half-hearted "ah, ah ah" sort of way. Kris just laughed and when we got down she kept saying "I'm so proud of you--that was amazing--it was so drammatic." We decided as I weight a lot less than Joe and Christopher, the ride was able to do it's full-on bungey thing with all the spinning and bouncing it could muster. I bet even skinnier girls might lose their lunch with all the spinning.
The whole experience was amazing because I really felt myself get freed from my fear in a way that felt addictive. Maybe it's time to ride a roller coaster for real?