Old Brown London Town

pfft, Chicago, lets move straight to London.

After a spirited farewell in Auckland, involving bed wetting, sink spewing, cocktail binging and Devonport main street pissing, I was whisked away on a shit-ass Emirates A380 400. Probably the weakest plane in the world to be given to spend 36 hours in transit on. p sides were awesome (as always) aeroplane meals, Marley and Me, W, Twilight, Frost/Nixon, Coomes Town (?), Casino Royale, Top Gear, Bill Bryson and Bryce Courtney, and a sick South African lady sat next to me. Brilliant.

Arrived in London, caught the tube (cool) to Canary Wharf, where upon I booked into my hotel. Lovely place, perfect size for sleeping and not much else, and far enough away from ExCeL where I was working that I got to spend a little time each morning and afternoon people watching with my iPod, King Mogwai II.

Monday night I caught up with Jonelle, we had a few beers in SoHo at a bar called Bar One. She showed me Oxford street (holy shit, getting on the tube at Oxford Street circus is like getting on the tube at ExCeL after a wine and spirits convention… Notice a pattern here?), and we discussed continuing on drinking, but my mild jet lag, and her prior celebrations combined with the lure of homemade risotto proved too much and we parted ways. I head to Clapham North to meet up with JoeJoe Binks and his school crew at a bar called the Falcon, where we ate fish finger sandwiches and drank beer until it was time for bed.

Tuesday dawned a day of work… I managed a quick mission further East on the DLR to a place called Gallions Reach, where I had both my first English supermarket experience, and my first ‘lost on a bus in London’ experience. Both were extremely worthwhile. I saw Rowan Atkinson at ExCeL too, which was pretty sweet, becasue i thought my first English celebrity would be some git from Hollyoakes or Cilla Black or something, so I’m glad her was a bit cooler. That night we met up with a guy Richard who took us to a bar called Dive (excellent) which was underground at the Leadenhall market, which was so old the cobble stone were shiny from people walking on them so much. We then went to a steakhouse called Goucho, where they bring out a chopping board with raw meat on it to demonstrate each cut of meat and how its cooked, albeit in broken English with an Eastern European accent.

Wednesday I saw the coolest bit of graffiti I’ve ever seen. Essentially some guy was hating on this girl Amy sooo much, that he written the words “Amy is a Bitch” in chalk, on the pavement. Hows that for another level of frustration? And as an after thought, a little bit further down the path, in the same 9 year old chalk scrawl, he’d written “ricky cant get it up”… Ah, young love, so frustrating.

Thursday consisted of more beers, again with JoeJoe Binks, this time in the Shepherds Arms tavern just away from Green Park… Good times. I know, because the night ended way too late for a Thursday, at a Chinese restaurant, with the proprietors waiting for us to finish our sweet and sour pork with their helmets on and their bikes held at the door… Understandably we made them wait a little longer, because we figured they were bitching about us int heir own language, which is highly unfair.

Friday I checked out of the hotel, made my way to Notting Hill Gate to meet up with long time friend KateH. She so kindly let me leave my bags while i scooted out to Heathrow to meet cousin Waverley as she flew in on what must have been a a massive fingers crossed flight :p, we had an interesting discussion with and American girl names Sally on the tube, talked about the meaning of life and why we’re here… I think we helped her figure some of her stuff out, because by the end she was proclaiming that her time in London was over, and that she needed to move on. Someone who cant stop yawning in the middle of the day, and shaves their eyebrows off probably had a fair crack of shit they need to sort out, so I felt like I’d helped. 

Me and Waves missioned round for the day seeing her friends in Dollis Hill, shopping on oxford street, people watching some fo the most beautiful people I’ve ever seen in my life ( I think it’s just that they’re different, I dunno). We also went to an amazing coffee place (which just happened to be owned and run by NZers and Australians) called Flat White in Soho. I bought myself some lip rings and then we parted company so that she could go see more of her friends and I could head back to KateH’s work for beers and a catch up.

Walked through Primrose Hill and into Chalk Farm, had Thai and plenty of beers at a very pleasant and quirky bar called Sir Richard Steele, we then walked back to her house in Avenue road and I had my first proper night of dossing on someone’s couch. It was amazing.

Saturday KateH and I and her Danish flatmate walked along the canals to Camden markets, which was a whole bunch of fun… Definitely have to head back there sometime soon. I got my new jewelry put in my lip and we ate burritos from Australians (they’re everywhere), before we headed off to meet Natalie at South Kensington station. We saw a Banksy exhibition, which although obviously really cool, took the paintings out of their natural element (the streets), which kinds of devalued them for me a little, still, cool to find out that at a minimum, Banksy art goes for £50,000… Maybe a bit sell out, but whatever.

We then walked down Southbank on the premise that I’d seen something about a Mark Rothko exhibition at the Tate Modern. Turns out the magazine i’d been reading was 2 months old (If you read this Natalie, this was the other lesson I’d learned that day), and the Rothko Exhibition was long gone. Still, we walked along the banks of the Thames with some super commentary from Nat (nerds come in handy ALL THE TIME), and found ourselves at the Anchor Tavern, where, of course, we drank more beers. We also had fish and chips, which was great, aside from the fact that they’d been friend in beef dripping, which had serious repercussions later on that afternoon.

We headed to Old Street on the East side, where Mine and Nat’s poor little NZ tummies couldn’t handle the might English Beef dripping, so for me a prolonged session on the toilet, and for her a couple of public spews ensued. Very pleasant. I felt better, but poor Nat didnt, she she bailed home and I went onwards to meet up with more camp friends.

Vickie met me at London tower, with her mates Dan, Joe, Kate and Gravil. We walked to an address in Llyods wharf for a house warming party type thing… Holy shit I’ve never seen such opulence. Mezzanine floors for bands to play in, walk in bathrooms, roof terraces and rope banisters… This place had it all. Met some really cool people, had my first London Taxi ride, and went and stayed at Dan’s place in Tooting Bec (cute!). All in all, a fantastic day, so thanks very much to Vickie for inviting me.

The highlight of Sunday was eating. Sunday lunch roasts are fantastic and everybody should adopt them. Without fail. I made the tube back to KateH’s place in Swiss cottage and took her out for a Ruby Murray, which was also very very good.

Anyway, Tyler arrives in half an hour and I need to go get him from Heathrow, there;ll be heaps more to come in week by week updates, or, i’ll just be lazy and never do another one. Email me.

Take it easy.

B xx

New York, Blue York

So, after camp came a pleasant week or so in New York. New York is an amazing city, full of celebrities and recognisable landmarks. Its also full of people, people who live in the busiest city in the world, who can never hope to grasp everything that happens in the city, and thus, get consumed by their own bubble. Their own bubble then becomes the most important thing in the world to them, and as a by-product, they stop caring about the world around them. Im sure this is a generalisation, but not once did I see someone stop to “smell the roses” of New York that wasn’t a tourist.

I love the subway. We dont have them in NZ, and thus, the novelty factor was still high. $1.50 to go anywhere in the city? Yes please.

So anyway, Me, Lance, Joe, Louise, Julia, Cera, Vicky, Racheal and Katie touched down in NYC. We had an amazing time at an average hostel, and proved that home is where you heart is, because with those people around me, it didn’t matter that we were in New York, it could have been Tirau and I’d have been just as happy.

We had a lot of good intentions in New York… Stomp, the Bodies exhibition, a Yankees game, a ferry ride to Staten Island, a funny comedy club… all we missed out on by dumb luck, a retarded choice or a bung subway ride. Highlights for me included the most touristy of open roofed double decker sight-seeing tours, walking through Central park, our final dinner in China Town, Rockerfeller views, and most of all, the dinner at TGI Fridays.

New York became blue the day we said goodbye to Racehal and Vicky. They went back to start real life in England and it began the beginning of my realistaion that this would all end one day, and we’d all have to go back to whetever it was we did before this magical adventure with these amazing peiople started.

A day later we met a new friend Lydia who is Joes girlfriend, and Ive never met a better suited couple in my life. Next to say goodbye was Katie, then Cera and her friend and finally, after saying both hello and goodbye to Peter and Zoe, we headed to Chicago, saying goodbye to Louise in the process.

So, New York the seconf time round was just as amazing, just as awe inspiring, but this time, instead of a tinge of excitement, the visit was tinged with sadness. Again, New York proved an amazing place to visit, but more than a week would make me explode with to much intensity. So, it was decided, off to the land of blues, jazz and the cubs… Chicago…

When camping became cool

So, its been a while, and im sorry. Im going to try and condense the last 13 weeks into 3 entries, and give you some impression/insight into the amazing experience I’ve just been through. People have told me to be careful with sharing stories with people who weren’t involved, because they wont understand and that will devalue your memories, but I feel like i’ve sucked at keeping in touch with people while Ive been away, so this is a compromise of sorts, where I plan to share in (hopefully) a concise manner, and you can forgive me if I don’t give you the gory details of every little moment of the last 13 weeks.

So, here is camp:

I suggest you all work at a summer camp. Its retardedly hard work, but I’ve never been so rewarded for hardwork in my life. The highlight of my summer was the people, which I’ll touch on later, but the things I saw, and the things I managed to participate in were also massive highlights, Oh, and the kids

The work I did wasnt necessarily difficult, but it just didnt stop. We were on contact with kids 22 hours a day, 6 days a week. We got off at 10pm, and had until 7:30am to ourselves/to sleep, naturally a lot of late nights were had. It was a crazy balance between getting enough sleep, and having enough you time to stay sane. There were times that were very overwhelming, times when I wanted to give up, but the people around me kept me going, kept encouraging me, kept making me want to do my best, for them, and for the kids.

We had some famous charges… Members of both Twisted Sister and Rush had daughters at camp, the Bubils, who wrote the musical version of Les Miserables had their boys there… Bobby McPharins daughter, the voice of Dash from The Incredibles, relations of Bob Dylan and David Bowie, and I’m sure many more that were never vocalised…

So in America, the toilets have a massive amount of water in them, which is REALLY bad for splashback. Also, the lightswitches work the other way. Most brooms look like witches brooms, and the stars dont look anything like our stars back home. Everything is obnoxiously large, including some personalities.

I just want to take a moment to talk about some people, forgive me if this is boring, but I need to have this in writing.

To Paul, Brian and Ross – I couldnt have asked for a better group of guys to be sharing a bunk with. Ross, you’re probably the funniest guy I’ve ever met in my life, and i’d love to share a bunch of beers with you again sometime. Brian, you’re the most level headed, spiritually rich guy, I wish you all the luck in the world with whatever you find yourself doing. Paul, you’re an inspiration… Sometimes when you meet supertalented people who play the same instrument as you, they inspire you to be as good as you can be… You showed me that blind desire to be good isn’t enough, you have to have natural talent. You are what I want to be.

To Lance, Vicky, Joe, Racheal and Louise: You guys made my days off everything they could be. Cellar nights, ping pong, Tupper Lake missions, Montreal, tennis games, football games, sunbathing, water balloons. No other day would have been as awesome as Wednesday.

Julia, you’ve given me a better appreciation for small dogs and Australian music, as well as making me realise what sort of a person I want to be when i grow up.

Kate Computers – Word. You’re craziness, whilst sometimes brutally obnoxious, always made me laugh, and always kept me sane.

Nic – you’re the man, thats all I need to say.

I dont want to miss anyone else, so thank you to every single long lake counseler in 2008. I’ll go back if you go back.

So i guess that’s camp in a nutshell. Amazing people, amazing setting, amazing experience. I’ll have photos up for you sometime soon.

Next, and in more detail - New York City.

New York, and how I fit into things.

So, I’ve arrived. My apologies for the length and breadth of this message, but its been an action packed 5 days, I’ll be brief where I can, but there’s some thing that want a little more time dedicated to them… Enjoy

First up, QANTAS, you suck. get better technicians. A 5 hour delay for an air conditioning part is acceptable, but take us off the plane and give us something other than water and Louise cake to quench our thirsts. Muppets.

Secondly, American Airlines, you suck too. You’re 1960’s planes are uncomfortable, and you air hostesses are inhospitable and too wide for the aisles. Granted, after not sleeping on the QANTAS flight, and the unceremonious pat down I received at LAX, and the 5 hour wait for a connection flight I may not have been in the most forgiving of moods, but your retard staff didn’t help themselves.

So, after 28 hours of transit, two Friday the 13ths, two Thursday the 12ths, 4 movies, 8 episodes of the Simpsons, a fondle from a security guard and my first yellow cab taxi ride, I arrived in Brooklyn at 7am Friday morning.

I met Agata, the girl I’m staying with in the building she owns in Brooklyn. It’s a protected heritage area, with lots of redstone buildings, and “unusual similarities to the period it was built”….? But it looks a little something like this, and the building I’m in looks a lot like this

Friday was spent mooching around the city. I hadintended to meet my friend Kate in Times Square, but with a lack of cell phones, and her being behind schedule, It didn’t happen, so I wandered around the city for a good, oh, 6 hours, trying to get my bearings, and just generally being in awe of how little and insignificant this place made me feel. In a good way. I visited the WTC place, battery park, the Empire state building, Broadway, times square, the Brooklyn bridge, the financial district, the west village and TriBeCa… All on foot, all with no real idea where I was going. Jet lag and tiredness got the better of me and I came back for a shower… Whereupon the other kiwi guy going to my camp, Lance, rang me and asked if I wanted to go out with him and some of his friends that night, to which I of course, replied yes.

We ended up at a bar on 86th street, hanging out with a friend of his who he met in Auckland and about 8 of her friends… It was an interesting night… I discovered how easy it is to make friends if you have a kiwi accent, and how easy it is to get drunk if you tip a barman well. As opposed to trying to fumble my way through the subway at 5am to get back to Brooklyn, Lance and I stayed with some people we met who lived in the Bronx, which was great because we got to walk around Harlem the next morning. I didnt have my camera with me, i wish I’d taken it because it was really quite cool. not at all what I expected.

So after my first sleep in nearly 48 hours, I was into New York Time. Saturday morning was spent vegetating in Brooklyn, and then I had a go at picking up Waverley from Pennsylvania station. She said 5:30, so I was there at 5:15, and waited until 7:30, but alas, no Waverley. Stood up twice in my first two days in Manhattan! Do I smell? Turns out there’s 2 rail companies that operate out of Penn station, and they both have “police kiosks, near the ticket place, beside the toilets”. I’ll never mix up LIRR and Amtrak again, although I do still get lost in Penn station because, like everything here, is obnoxiously huge.

So I hadanother go at meeting up with Kate, which was successful this time. We had Italian in the village and desert somewhere near NYU. I trudged back home in the rain to a flurry of emails from Waves with designs on meeting the next day, and a heavy weariness in my eyes.

Yesterday was fantastic. I met Waves in Brooklyn, and she showed me around her favourite places. We went to a suburb called Williamsburg, which is like something out of VICE magazine. EVERYBODY has tattoos, and is significantly cooler/prettier than me. I had the most fun people watching… SO MUCH PLAID. We had breakfast at this awesome cafe that reminded me of Metropolis in Hamilton. I had my first (and last) taste of carrot juice, some delightful eggs Benedict and a bad ass juice smoothie.

Then we went to the ridiculously awesome Op Shop. There were so many cool shirts and jackets, I counted that I could have spent $600 if I bought everything I wanted… And,at $7 a shirt, and $15 a jacket… It shows you what we were looking at.  From there we went to a bunch of little nick nack/fashionistatype stores… Reminiscent of Brunswick St in Melbourne, or kind of like Cuba st in Wellington, exceptheaps more Bohemian and full of nasty American accents. We saw the Bedford Circus of Fools, which was like a cross between homeless people busking and a street performance, and we had beers at a bar called Blackburn, where more excessively tattooed people drank funny coloured drinks. Way too cool for me, so we decided to go to Chinatown.

Holy crap. Chinatown is the most intense experience I’ve ever had. We walked out of the subway station and before we’d even reached the top of the stairs street level, there’s people hounding us with offers of the best prices on knock-off watches, sunglasses, handbags and perfume. It went on forever, and I let myself get conned into buying a Rolex for $30…I’m pretty happy with it and it hasn’t stopped yet, so meh… It’ll go with the yellow Camel Lights windbreaker I bought at the Op Shop.

It’s funny though, because although everything is a knock-off, every store has the same selection of stock… It’s almost like they buy their stock from a catalogue or something… Experience of the day goes to bartering with a scary black guy over the price of a watch i didn’t really want to buy, but wanted to see how far I could push him. The cops came past and they all shut up shop, and I could’ve walked off with the watch, but I think he would have shot me…. Anyway, the cops left, he came back, we continued to barter and when I told him I wasn’t going any higher than $11, he promptly told me I didnt need a watch and walked off, taking his wares with him. Phew

Then, onto  little Italy and SOHO, where we ate gelato, marvelled at the Museum of Modern Art store, the Maserati’s and mini-skirts, some fire-escapes and Italian doorstep singers. waves said she’s seen Frank Sinatra Jr singing int he district once… It’s amazing what happens in this city (speaking of which, Lance, the other Kiwi from above, bumped into none other than David Hasslehoff… Even the American dudes we were drinking with that night were all amazed!!!).

Then from SOHO I decided I wanted to go to Central Park, so we did, and got sidetracked at the Apple Flagship store and F.A.O Schawrz Toy store, which has the piano from “big” in it, as well as some massive dinosaur soft toys and the biggest barbie collection Ive ever seen. and you can design your own hot wheels car. Dope.

Central Park was great, it bizarre to have this massive park int he middle of this massive city, its a bit of a mind bend actually, because there are parts that make you feel like you’re out in the country…. There’s heaps of lakes and little nooks and crannies to get lost in, you could spend days there and not see all of it… Much like the rest of Manhattan Island.

Anyway, waves stayed the night last night due to missing her train, I’ve just got back from braving Penn Station at 7am Monday morning rush hour… I’m going to have a nap, cultivate my beard some more, and then venture out to book into my hostel before I go off on a bus to Camp tomorrow morning. Ambitions for the day are the Museum of natural History and Staten island/The statue of Liberty. I’ll let you know how I get on in due course.

If you hate these generic updates, email me and I WILL reply bartfine@gmail.com

Much love

Bxxx

The Final Hurrah

Well, I have 4 days left in Wellington. But no matter what happens in the next 4 days, I feel the last 2 years here have been critical to me becoming who I am in ways I don’t think I’ll understand until years to come. If I could name every person I’ve met or been introduced to that’s had an effect on me, I would. But the truth is, naming them and trying to make their influence on me tangible would not only be difficult, but I think the words I have in my vocabluary would never do the level of those influences justice.

I’ve had the best three weekends of my life back to back. It started with my birthday/leaving party (face painting), where the highlights were an oompaloompa (naturally), Ziggy Stardust, William Wallace, Clockwork Orange, a rainbow, a zebra, a tiger, Jem and a Misfit (truly outrageous), zombies and undead, Harry Potter, a rubiks cube, an All Black, a race car cake, someone pouring oil on our kitchen floor so we could all pretend to be able to dance like Michael Jackson, drug hugs and completely unexpected hookups. The day after sucked balls, thanks mostly to the aforementioned oil on the floor.

Then my actual birthday tea came around, I invited many poeple to come, and many poeple turned up, which really touched me, so thanks if you read this. Highlights include the first vegetables I’d had in days, promises of Karaoke, jugs of beer and another round of unexpected (but more expected than last time) hookups.

Then I was shown Ingrid Michaelson. Which is Awesome.

Then, the next weekend, I got to dress in a suit, which was fantastic. I like wearing suits, and as sure as I am the novelty would wear off eventually, part of me wants to work a job wear I have to wear one. So, there’s some silly photos here, where we accosted the professional photographer and forced him to take photos of us looking sexily drunk. We moved on to a party where workmates got to know each other a lot better, we threw eggs off balconies, drank Irish Coffee, danced to Alanis Morrisette, discussed British Comedy and the merits of Punch at parties. More-expected hook-up played a massive part in the enjoyment of this night, so to you if you read, thank you, and my apologies on behalf of the group.

Again the next day was pants, but I did no mopping. I instead lay on a couch, watched Juno with new friends and friends I’m getting to know better, ate the perfect hangover meal and went quietly off to bed.

This week has been enthralling. With goodbye drinks left right and center, final days at my actual work (tomorrow) and my other work (Saturday), lunches, sweet emails and texts with offers to hang out, nice gmail chat conversations, night time cuddles and deep and meanginful conversations, I think I’m beginning to realise what it takes to make me happy: Physical intimacy, sharing, laughter and beer. Simple huh?

But wait, that’s only two weekends you say??? Another starts tomorrow, and as it’s my last in this beautiful beautiful city, there’s no way it can be anything other than one of the best weekend of my life. I’m that sure.

Thanks to all of you who’ve been a part of my life here, I’ll make sure you all get due credit when they make the movie of my life, or, once I’m working In Formula One, i’ll introduce you all to Kimi Raikonnen and shout you to the Malaysian Grand Prix.

Thanks Wellington, you’ve been awesome!!!

Bxxx

 

 

The first time I never cared about my Birthday

Its my birthday next week. This time of the year is usually pretty slow at work, so I use my birthday as one of those something to look forward to milestones to make a month seem a little less dreary. I always like to do something, whether it be too many beers for a Tuesday night, or dinner with friends… But on the bus this morning, I realised I’d be sweet as a nut if this Wednesday I got to sit at home on the couch, watching bland TV or reading my book. I’d be quite happy not even leaving the house. It struck me that this must be what its like to turn 37, or 52, or some other unimportant age. It struck me that this must be what it’s like to get old. 

But it’s OK… I’m not going to go down some self-depricating “woe-is-me-im-practically-dead” path, because I’m un-interested not because of the age itself, but because a birthday pales in comparison to everything else that’s going on around me at the moment… I’ve sold pretty much everything I own. I’ve met my last external deadline for work, I host my last Wellington party tomorrow (face painting, OH HELL YES!!!), I’ve said my goodbyes to more than a third of the people I needed to say goodbye to, I have a pack, I have a US Visa, I have a Canadian visa, I have a British passport, I have tickets to leave the country. I don’t really need a birthday thanks very much.

I spoke to one of my closest friends last night about the whole travel thing… When I say “I spoke”, I mean “I unloaded most of my issues on”… And was surprised at how much similar stuff she is feeling (she’s planning her second overseas jaunt… A very handy knowledge well to have). A lot of it has to do with what I’m calling “The Dreary Trudge”. These last couple of weeks where I’m not achieving anything, not starting anything new, not really motivated to do anything and generally just counting hours. I’ve said it before… I can’t get excited about leaving yet, because doing so would sign me out of work, and the INTERNAL deadlines that still exist would not be met… So it’s this brutal holding pattern… I guess I’m just getting ancy.

That’s mostly it… A rather boring matter of fact post. But I have, after today, 8 days of work ebfore I become homeless and un-employed, which is probably going to be the most exciting thing I’ve ever done in my life… So people tell me.

Bxxx

 

The ettiquette of saying goodbye

I had a reasonably awkward goodbye last night. Some friends of mine are going back to their homeland after a year or so here. They had a few quiets to celebrate what has been and what is yet to come, and I really wanted to give them all high fives before they got on a plane.

It just so happens that their homeland is close to a place I plan to stay for a while on my trip, so it wont be that long before I see them again. Which put a weird awkward stance on the whole thing, as it was more of a “catch you in a couple of months” high-five, chest-bump, back-slap farewell thing… I don’t know, I guess I feared that I came off as insincere, but whatever. It got me thinking about how I want MY goodbyes to go.

For sure there’s a heap of people I’d like to get to spend some one on one time with… I’ve been thinking about writing some of my close friends letters… But if there’s something I’ve learnt in the last week, it’s that managing the situations in which you say anything heartfelt (including farewells) is important. I hate the idea of hurting people, and I hate the fact that my words (and everybody Else’s for that matter) can often be misconstrued to mean something other than their intent.

There’s a lot of coming clean going on in my head at the moment… Things I’ve told myself for years and believed are beginning to unravel, crushes I’ve had have had action taken on them, things I’ve refrained from saying to people have popped out… Something about leaving gives you this brash confidence (it could even be stupidity), but I’m really hoping I don’t put my foot in my mouth too many more times before I get on a plane. It’s a difficult thing sometimes, getting your thoughts and feelings out in a clear, indisputable way. So, consider this an advance apology for my blurting when we see each other, it’s selfish, but I need to tell you these things, and I obviously think you’re better off for knowing them.

Work sucks. I’ve never felt so out of place in a working environment. I have stuff to do, but it’s mundane, I feel like I’m doing a half-arsed job and not contributing. I have had the same thing for lunch for the last 9 days. I have 0 motivation, and it’s a real struggle to get up in the morning. All I want to do is sit in the sun and talk to the people I feel a connection with. So, get in touch, lets hang out. I’d like to make you smile.

Bxxx

10 songs

This is a list of ten songs I can’t skip past whilst listening to playlists on shuffle, no matter what mood I’m in, or what situation I find myself. I’ve always thought the music someone listens to gives you a good indication to their soul, and I think these are probably a pretty good glimpse into Me right now…

In no particular order:

Elvis Perkins – While you were Sleeping

Stars – Calendar Girl

Killswitch Engage – End of Heartache

The Weepies – No one Knows Me

Tegan and Sara – Hop a Plane

The Features – Blow it Out

Fly My Pretties – Bag of Money

City and Colour – Save your Scissors

As I lay Dying – Comfort Betrays

Martyr AD – American Hollow

I think sharing music is probably one of the greatest gifts that exists. For me, finding a new favourite band is like realising you’re in love with a long time friend, and that they feel the same way. So, think of this post as a gift to you. Give one of the above a go, you never know what you might discover within yourself.

In other news, come Monday, i’ll be 4 weeks from becoming homeless and unemployed. I’ve paid for my visas, tickets, insurance and scary US big brother tourist tracking system fee. I’ve found a buyer for my TV, Im halfway through a poster to sell my car, I’m organising a birthday/farewell party (face-painting… Oh Hell Yes!), I’ve got to buy a pack, some boots and other various travel necessities, and have to plan a trip to Auckland for a consulate interview… All whilst holding down 2 jobs and some semblance of a social life. My eyes are heavy, but I haven’t felt this alive in at least 3 months.

“So I waited for the riddled sky to be solved again by sunrise” – Thanks Elvis.

Bxxx

Successes, failures, and baby steps.

I hate the fact that you’re the first thing I think about when I wake up.This weekend I took part in relay for life. It’s an experience I should feel good about undertaking, but I’ve been left with a feeling of emptiness. Basically, due to the incredibly inclement weather (thank you Wellington, 4 weeks of beautiful sunshine, and you choose to rain on the day I want to walk for 24 hours), and a bunch of situations beyond my control, I only ended up walking for about 3 hours. I set pretty high standards for myself (I am maintaining that had it been decent weather, I would’ve stuck the night out), and to bail out for no good reason makes me feel a bit shit. I justified it to myself at the time: I’d raised nearly $200 for the Cancer Society, I walked in the pouring rain for 3 hours and I paid tribute to my Grandpa. I know if he had of been there he would’ve told me to go home and have a hot shower and stop walking around in circles in the rain like a retard, but the fact that the team carried on through the night kind of irks me. In a way, I’m questioning my resolve to follow through with things. Which isn’t a great situation to be in when you’re staring down the barrel of a travel odyssey. What happens if it rains when I’m in the middle of nowhere south of Nice? Or west of Budapest? Will I just give up? Thanks, but i’d rather not deal with this lack of self-confidence right now.On a far nicer level, I had my first foray back into bar work for 2 years on Friday. I enjoyed it immensely. I’d forgotten how many words sound like my name in a loud crowded bar, and i’d forgotten how much fun singing and dancing to yourself can be. As with any other hospitality job, it’s pretty easy if you exercise your common sense, so the challenge and excitement come from the people around you. At this place, the people seem fantastic. I had an awesome conversation with one guy about his mountaineering exploits throughout the Southern Alps. He showed me pictures of him on the top of Mt Aspiring, and some of his pictures from Mt Cook, which really hit home with me in a way only a few other things have. Not only did it make me extremely proud to be a Kiwi, and aware of how privileged we are to come from such a naturally beautiful country, but it also re-inspired me to take a closer look at the things around me, take time to smell the roses, and stop worrying about little things, because in comparison to how immense the world around us is, my having to unplug the DVD played to plug in the modem is really insignificant. So, to thank him, I’m sharing The Features with him.I don’t like the fact that it’s becoming winter, but I do like the fact that I’m swapping hemispheres before the real weather sets in. I hate how in the process of forgetting, everything becomes a reminder, but I like that the music is finally becoming mine. I like my routines, but I can’t wait to emerge spur or the moment. At the moment, my favorite thing is meeting new people, and seeing their eyes light up when they talk about things they love.   

T minus 2 1/2 months

These days are filled with some apprehension. My application has been accepted, I’ve been placed at a camp in upstate New York, in the middle of the Adirondack Regional Park, teaching kids how to ride quad bikes.

My impression of the SCUSA process and the area I’m being sent to are mostly positive. The regional park looks fantastic, the area of the state looks about as isolated as I could wish for it to be, and with a new-found appreciation for all things natural, I don’t think I’ll experience anything but inner peace once I arrive.

So, I sit and wait, as seems to be the way the process works. I wait for a camp contract, I wait for the organisation to confirm my flights, I wait to be told how long I should purchase insurance for. Waiting isn’t my favourite thing to do, being a reasonable pro-active person, but I guess, like most of life, things are now well and truly out of my hands for the moment.

To heed the pensive-ness, I’m trying to engage as many people as I can socially. I know it seems like a long time until I leave, but I’d hate to think I’d missed someone. Also, after what I know will be a fantastic Easter surrounded by family, I have entered the Wellington leg of the Relay for Life in remembrance of my Grandpa. All in all, I think I’m developing a reasonably holistic outlook to life. And, I guess, this page is a way of not only helping friends and family understand and live vicariously, but to solidify my own feelings about where I’m meant to be in this world.

I look forward to sharing the journey with you.

B xx