Continued from: "He's worse than a freakin bug zapper..."
My dignity still in tow, we loaded up Bruno Timberlake Mars and headed out for our coastal drive to Kaikoura.
Skipping through Christchurch, and finally landing in our lovely Kaikoura hostel, Albatross Backpackers, we check in and are promptly shown to our rooms.
Let me just say. I LOVE to read. Seriously. I blew through at least 10 books on this trip. And none of them with pictures.
That being said, when we were taken into our room for the next two nights, I clambered up onto my top bunk and almost giggled with glee at the reading light that was installed right next to my head board. Love this hostel already.
Later that evening, I'm all curled up in my bed have a riot of a conversation with The Professor. He starts asking about bus schedules and a light bulb goes off in my head.
I bolt up right and lean over to KFarms bed....
"K.... he's asking me about bus schedules...."
Her eyes laser focus in on me and a big grin spread over her face. "Really?"
Now, in all fairness, I'm quite sure that this was just a passing thought of "wouldn't it be funny if..."
"Yeah....what if I went back? I don't really want to do anything in particular in the North Island and I need to look at Dunedin again to see if I can really live there for an extended period of time...."
And a plan was hatched.
The trio split up the next day. I hopped a bus back down to Christchurch for the night to catch an early connector to Dunedin. I booked two nights stay at our hostel and informed The Professor of my return. Poor fellow, I don't think he was expecting that.
I didn't want him to get a big ego about the fact that I may or may not have wanted to spend more time with him, so I guiltily fabricated a weak story about having coffee with a friend of a friend to discuss work visas, employment, etc.
Arriving in Christchurch around 4ish in the afternoon, I checked into my lodging for the night, Jailhouse Accommodations. It's exactly what it sounds like, an old correctional facility that has been refurbished into dorm style lodging. And its just as creepy.
Everything clangs and echoes with a general overtone of menace. The beds are clean and comfortable, when is really all I cared about at that moment. Feeling antisocial, I jumped in the shower early, shaved my legs as though my life depended on it and climbed into bed early.
The Professor had ever so graciously agreed to be my chauffeur and tour guide for the next two days in Dunedin and was planning on collecting me from the bus station around 1:45 the next day. He has also kindly offered his house as a place to stay, which I cautiously accept, keeping my hostel book until the last minute just in case he's a nutcase.
I am so excited I can hardly stand it. My leg was jumping up and down the entire 6 hour bus ride back down to Dunedin. With my heart in my throat, the bus crests a hill and Dunedin sweeps out before my feet.
Pulling into the bus station, I do a quick once over of my appearance:
Good butt pants: check
Hair remotely under control: check
Stupid grin plastered to my face: get a grip! Normal face, normal face normal face chanting through my head as I climb off the bus.
Then my feet hit the pavement, I grab my bag turn to my right and BAM.... there is my favorite Kiwi with my name printed on paper, cute grin on his face, looking straight at me. normalfacenormalfacenormalface
Ah fuck it. A big grin creeps across my cheeks and that was the last time I tried to hold it back.
Driving back to his house, I am amazed at how balanced I feel. The constant move, pack, drive, eat, move, etc. routine of the the few weeks had worn more on me than I was aware. Sitting in the passenger seat of a car with a man whom I barely know, I feel so....good. Calm. Free. Giddy. Solid. Its just nice to be taken care of. I don't have to plan, think or drive. I just enjoy.
We drop my stuff at his house (which is, of course, adorable) I internalize as much grinning as I can until he shows me the reading light he set up for my use (whether or not it was actually there before or not, I have no clue, but the fact that he even mentioned it at all was just too cute).
Back in the car, he is like a kid in a candy store. Music flowing through the car, leg jumping, silly grin on his face. He emphatically pats my leg as he tells me bits and pieces of information about things we drive buy. Where he likes to play golf, how awesome the view is from that hill over there, where he likes to run.
We drive out to Tunnel Beach, climbing rocks, sitting on driftwood couches and chatting, I am thoroughly enjoying the burn in my legs from the steep climb up and down to the beach. I haven't moved enough over the last week and it felt good to sweat a little and get my heart pumping again.
Hiking back to the car, we cruise over the St. Claire Beach. Popping into a pub for a "wee pint", I then undergo one of the most important and well demonstrated life lessons that I will ever learn....
How to play cricket.
I like cricket. It's like fancy baseball. Initially confusing, fancy baseball.
The beach is gorgeous as we walk the full length of it, shoes in hand. He points out the most photographed places, the best views, we sneak a kiss as we stroll up through a bush covered path to the overlook.
This. Is. Not. Real. Life.
As we walk back down towards the car, we get an excellent tip on some stellar fish and chips from a friend of a friend. Yes, please.
We quickly order (ok, he quickly orders and I spend too long reading the menu) and its back to the car to drive to an excellent location for eating fish and chips. In the car, parked on a hill overlooking the entire city.
Again, I say....Not Real Life.
Just for shits and giggles, we drive over to another looming hill to enjoy looking down on the city from the other side.
Keep in mind boys and girls - that was all in an afternoon. One. Afternoon.
Monday
Firstly - its a holiday! So I get to steal him for myself all day. Full time tour guiding is a rough life.
I know what you're thinking here....
"Why, goodness LP! You must be absolutely famished. What on earth did you get for breakfast? Twigs and berries?"
No, sweet readers, not even close. He cooks me breakfast.
Let me repeat that.
He cooks me breakfast.
"I'll have it ready by the time your out of the shower." he says.
What dream life have i dropped into?
20 minutes later, I'm squeaky clean and sitting on his couch looking out the window at a sweeeeet view of the city staring down a plate of toast, poached eggs and hot cross buns.
::swoon::
After breakfast, we drive for what seems like no time at all to the start of the Ross Creek Trail. This leads us through dense forest, past a neat waterfall, through evergreens, past water reservoirs and into the beginning of the Pineapple Track.
Side note: If you've read any of this silly blog, you'll note that I ADORE hiking. When I move to Dunedin, I'm telling you now - I'm walking The Pineapple Track every weekend. I will be FIT.
This track was rowdy (for my current level of fitness): I, sadly, was breathing heavy about halfway up from a combination of the view and the climb. After many breathers for my pansy ass, we make it to the top and find a nice little bench to park on and enjoy the view whilst we chow down on the mini pecan pies he so thoughtfully packed that morning.
Again, I find myself unable to ignore how calm and grounded I feel looking down on this city.
ENTER: The "Discussion"
Leaving the track, we head out for a milkshake, and our first disagreement ensues.
The Professors Rules for Vanilla Flavoring
- Not in ice cream cones.
- Not in the car (Editors note: not sure why I have this written in here)
- Yes in milkshakes
LP's Rules for Vanilla Flavoring
- Its boring. Hence why the word "vanilla" is synonymous for "plain", therefore chocolate is better.
- Unless it is being used in my banana bread recipe, then its more than acceptable.
After milkshakes we drive out to Allan's Beach. By far my favorite beach for the whole trip. If you are even in Dunedin, go. Its remote, not crowded and stunning. There were even up close views of blue penguins and fur seals.
Leaving Allan's Beach, we skip into town and pick up his room mate, lets call her Mary Poppins because shes petite and adorable. The Professor, Mary Poppins and I head out for some dinner, eating way too much Thai food (It was Thai right??).
Mary Poppins had other plans for the evening, so The Professor and I walked in town a bit to a pub called The Craic (my current number one favorite pub)
Tuesday
Waking up the next day feeling like a champion, I slept in a bit and prepared myself for a strenuous day of doing absolutely nothing important.
I strolled into town, had a lovely cup of coffee, read my book for a bit, did a little light shopping. Nothing to crazy. I was planning on sun bathing in the Varsity (collegiate area of the town), but the weather was total shit, so I sauntered back to the Octagon and ended up in The Craic again. The last game of the New Zealand vs. England cricket game was conveniently playing in front of an empty couch with a nice fire blazing away in the corner.
It was the perfect spot to land for the rest of the day. I convinced my host to meet me after he was free from work and we watched the end of a very emotional game of cricket. He is so fucking cute when he gets excited that I can hardly stand it. Knee jumping up and down with that silly half smile on his face. You cant not smile at it,
After cricket, we picked up Mary Poppins from work and drove back to his house where she proceeded to cook everyone one hell of a meal:
Lamb Roast
Leeks
Potatoes (from his garden!)
Home made gravy and mint sauce
I've died and gone to heaven.
Wednesday
Wednesday was get my act together day. I took a different route into town, walking through some more residential areas. Trying to get a feel for the area and attempt to imagine myself there for an extended period of time.
Completely doable. Another post to follow as promised on Dunedin itself.
Sporting my favorite polka dot dress, I met The Professor for lunch near the varsity, snagging pizza and eating in the sun.
Next was souvenir shopping, followed by a relaxing hour of reading in the octagon. In closing, I toured The Settlers Museum next to the train station and promptly met my tour guide that afternoon in the park out front.
ENTER: Squash
So, while we're sitting in the park, he asks me if I'd like to watch him play squash that night. "Of course!" I say. Little did I know.
Squash is an odd sport. Not my style for audience participation, BUT I will say, there was something immensely attractive about watching him ref the last game of the night. Numbers have never sounded so enticing. I'm surprised my clothes didn't fall off.
I can now say that I understand what squash is, and that I have no desire to watch it again.
We march back to his house, change for dinner and head out for my real last night in town.
Dinner at Yuki (aka "The Cave")
A sweet little Japanese restaurant tucked in off of an alley (hence The Cave), I was skeptical at first, but this place was amazing! You got to pick and chose several things off of a fairly extensive menu, nibbling here and there on whatever strikes your fancy at the time.
Dumplings, edamame, octopus balls, avocado and salmon miso, spicy chicken, chicken skin, scallops (YUM). Definitely going back here ASAP.
After dinner we went to our first date night pub, Albar, sat in our little window seat and bantered back and forth, I was on cloud nine.
Thursday
Bittersweet. This was the most beautiful and shitty day all at the same time. I packed my stuff that morning, headed to town for a weird tour of the Cadbury Factory, then met The Professor for lunch at my all time favorite place: Velvet Burger. What did I get, you ask? The Homegrown, why of course.
Climbing into his car, we drive a decent ways out of town and start climbing up a gravel road. Arriving at our final destination, Mount Cargill Lookout.
Sitting shoulder to shoulder in the grass eating our twin burgers looking out across literally everything, it was like being on top of the world, so stunning and so far away all at once. I have never wished for inclement, flight canceling weather more in my life than I did on that day.
We get up and he suggests that we walk a little further down the path to see "just another wee view of the city". I cant get enough, so of course I follow.
Coming around the corner of a ridge, its as if the whole world has been cut open. To my lift is rift after rift of mountains. Draped in cascading mist and slowly rippling away into the distance. If you let your eyes travel to the right, you can see Port Chalmers, Allan's beach, and a little more to the right lies Dunedin itself.
He stands behind me, an arm wrapped around me, pointing out places we had been, following the road to Allan's beach, the Pineapple Track, Laying out the last four days via the scenery.
With my flight to Auckland looming precariously in the distant future, we make our way back down to the city. To complete my Dunedin experience, he buys me an ice cream cone from Rob Roy's dairy. (Boysenberry is delicious!)
In accordance with the unreal adventures we've had, we take the long way to the airport. Driving along a coastal road listening to excellent music and talking about how we really must be in a movie.
Pulling up to the airport, I'm accustomed to an american airport drop off. Pull to curb, unload bags, hug, and your off. But no no, he parks the car, carries my bags in, literally checks me in for my flight because I'm too dumbstruck to press buttons, walks me into the cafe area and sits and waits with me for my flight.
Loading started at 5:55, I didn't even get in line for security until 5:50. He walks me to the check point, we say our farewells. I reiterate for the hundredth time that I fully intend to hunt him down again when I'm back in town. I start to say, "I'll see you later" and he just laughs and tells me that he'll wait for me at the window.
And he did. I fly through security, we wave at each other, I blow him a kiss and disappear down the boarding tunnel
I wasn't sure that people like this existed. I've just been in the wrong damn country.
Friday, March 29, 2013
He's worse than a freaking bug zapper...
Continued from "This only happens in the movies..."
Yes. Yes I did remember to put on deodorant. Thank god.
We stroll over to a "wee little bar" called Albar (I think...) down the road from the main area of the octagon. I'm trying not to be awkwardly quiet and in trying to not be awkwardly quiet, I end up being awkwardly quiet....for about 2 minutes.
We snagged a nice window seat looking out onto the sidewalk dining area and chatted about a vast variety of subjects. Ranging from the correct pronunciation of "orange juice" to the standard discussion of "tell me about your family".
Again, I cant tell you what he was thinking, but I was melting into a puddle of pheromones. Even the pauses in conversation didn't seem awkward, just filled with comfortable contemplation of each finished topic punctuated by a sip or two of beer.
Get it together LP! Goodness!
He walks me back to my hostel, roughly 2 blocks away and as we're saying goodbye, that damn eye contact kicks in.
He's worse than a freaking bug zapper.
.....we may or may not have made out like high schoolers for an undetermined length of time.
I fell into bed like a giddy feather with some stupid grin plastered on my face.
ENTER: Canada Day!
The Canadians Birthday was the next day, so we ran around town shopping and being girly (not my area of expertise, but I can work with it.) In one store, I came across the most adorable polka dot dress. After trying it on, it was an immediate purchase. Hitting my mid-thigh with a modest top, it was too stinking cute to pass up.
A little bit of messaging back and forth with The Professor during the day leads to plans for another casual evening out.
Polka. Dot. Dress. You're up slugger. Get your game face on.
Ok, so it was a little cold that night. And I heavily debated wearing my jeans. But damn it! It was our last night in town.....and that dress.....screw it. It's not like we're going hiking, I wont be outside for that long.
I hustle over to our meeting spot and lean myself up against a strategically placed flower bed. My legs are lookin' looooong. In an effort to not appear too eager, I fiddle with my phone to keep myself from scanning the crowd.
A familiar looking pair of shoes appears in my line of sight. Up shoot my eyes again. It takes all of my will power not drool. This man knows how to wear a button down shirt. And conveniently for him, I know how to stare at men who know how to wear button down shirts.
Which I do. While I remember how to use my tongue for making words come out of my mouth.
"Well, hello."
Really self?! That's the best you've got? Weak sauce. Tsk tsk.
And off we go. Starting with a pint at the same bar we started at the night before. This time however, it seems like maybe 5 minutes after we sit in our window seat the bartender swings by muttering something about "Last Call". A quick change of plans has us strolling back up through the center of the Octagon and after a few turns, he leads me down this abandoned looking alleyway.
"Ah, yes. I was wondering when you were going to get around to killing me in some alleyway and hiding my body." I say in a joking manner.
He chuckles at me and leads me around a corner into a tiny parking lot surrounded on all sides by brick walls. One of which, has a few tiny windows glowing with candlelight flanking a heavy looking wooden door.
ENTER: Pequeno - aka the most adorable bar ever.
Pushing open the door, you immediately feel at home. Thick velvet curtains sit along one wall, candlelight and firelight flick lovely shadows along the walls. The room is not overly large, but is dominated by a very gentlemanly looking bar. Overstuffed leather couches are strewn along the other long side of the wall creating nice little cozy nooks. The whole place feels at once very intimate in a very non-imposing manner.
We stroll up to the bar and he turns and asks me what I would like. I haven't a clue about whats available beer-wise in the area, so I let him pick one at random. I take a quick sip, nodding that it tastes great and should do just fine.
He tilts his head at me and says, "Now don't just say you like it just to say so. Its your last beer, so you'd better make sure you like it." His quick reference to my previous serial killer comment catches me off guard in the most delightful way as I fight the urge to choke on the sip of beer I just had.
Which brings me to number 5 (if you're still keeping count):
5. He's the most adorable bullshitter I think I've ever met.
Earning points left and right.
Again, he walks me back to my hostel. Again, we may or may not have made out like teenagers. (In the middle of which, a lovely drunk fellow comes up to us and asks for directions. No, that's cool, we're clearly not busy. Happy to tell you where to go, drunkie ... Really?) At this point, its my last night in town. Last. Night. In. Town. Polite words are exchanged, he says "Night gorgeous." and I regretfully hold tight to my dignity and walk upstairs to sleep in the cold top bunk of our stinky hostel room.
Dumb. Ass. He said "Night gorgeous." With that accent. Wearing that shirt. I say again, Dumb. Ass.
Continue...
Yes. Yes I did remember to put on deodorant. Thank god.
We stroll over to a "wee little bar" called Albar (I think...) down the road from the main area of the octagon. I'm trying not to be awkwardly quiet and in trying to not be awkwardly quiet, I end up being awkwardly quiet....for about 2 minutes.
We snagged a nice window seat looking out onto the sidewalk dining area and chatted about a vast variety of subjects. Ranging from the correct pronunciation of "orange juice" to the standard discussion of "tell me about your family".
Again, I cant tell you what he was thinking, but I was melting into a puddle of pheromones. Even the pauses in conversation didn't seem awkward, just filled with comfortable contemplation of each finished topic punctuated by a sip or two of beer.
Get it together LP! Goodness!
He walks me back to my hostel, roughly 2 blocks away and as we're saying goodbye, that damn eye contact kicks in.
He's worse than a freaking bug zapper.
.....we may or may not have made out like high schoolers for an undetermined length of time.
I fell into bed like a giddy feather with some stupid grin plastered on my face.
ENTER: Canada Day!
The Canadians Birthday was the next day, so we ran around town shopping and being girly (not my area of expertise, but I can work with it.) In one store, I came across the most adorable polka dot dress. After trying it on, it was an immediate purchase. Hitting my mid-thigh with a modest top, it was too stinking cute to pass up.
A little bit of messaging back and forth with The Professor during the day leads to plans for another casual evening out.
Polka. Dot. Dress. You're up slugger. Get your game face on.
Ok, so it was a little cold that night. And I heavily debated wearing my jeans. But damn it! It was our last night in town.....and that dress.....screw it. It's not like we're going hiking, I wont be outside for that long.
I hustle over to our meeting spot and lean myself up against a strategically placed flower bed. My legs are lookin' looooong. In an effort to not appear too eager, I fiddle with my phone to keep myself from scanning the crowd.
A familiar looking pair of shoes appears in my line of sight. Up shoot my eyes again. It takes all of my will power not drool. This man knows how to wear a button down shirt. And conveniently for him, I know how to stare at men who know how to wear button down shirts.
Which I do. While I remember how to use my tongue for making words come out of my mouth.
"Well, hello."
Really self?! That's the best you've got? Weak sauce. Tsk tsk.
And off we go. Starting with a pint at the same bar we started at the night before. This time however, it seems like maybe 5 minutes after we sit in our window seat the bartender swings by muttering something about "Last Call". A quick change of plans has us strolling back up through the center of the Octagon and after a few turns, he leads me down this abandoned looking alleyway.
"Ah, yes. I was wondering when you were going to get around to killing me in some alleyway and hiding my body." I say in a joking manner.
He chuckles at me and leads me around a corner into a tiny parking lot surrounded on all sides by brick walls. One of which, has a few tiny windows glowing with candlelight flanking a heavy looking wooden door.
ENTER: Pequeno - aka the most adorable bar ever.
Pushing open the door, you immediately feel at home. Thick velvet curtains sit along one wall, candlelight and firelight flick lovely shadows along the walls. The room is not overly large, but is dominated by a very gentlemanly looking bar. Overstuffed leather couches are strewn along the other long side of the wall creating nice little cozy nooks. The whole place feels at once very intimate in a very non-imposing manner.
We stroll up to the bar and he turns and asks me what I would like. I haven't a clue about whats available beer-wise in the area, so I let him pick one at random. I take a quick sip, nodding that it tastes great and should do just fine.
He tilts his head at me and says, "Now don't just say you like it just to say so. Its your last beer, so you'd better make sure you like it." His quick reference to my previous serial killer comment catches me off guard in the most delightful way as I fight the urge to choke on the sip of beer I just had.
Which brings me to number 5 (if you're still keeping count):
5. He's the most adorable bullshitter I think I've ever met.
Earning points left and right.
Again, he walks me back to my hostel. Again, we may or may not have made out like teenagers. (In the middle of which, a lovely drunk fellow comes up to us and asks for directions. No, that's cool, we're clearly not busy. Happy to tell you where to go, drunkie ... Really?) At this point, its my last night in town. Last. Night. In. Town. Polite words are exchanged, he says "Night gorgeous." and I regretfully hold tight to my dignity and walk upstairs to sleep in the cold top bunk of our stinky hostel room.
Dumb. Ass. He said "Night gorgeous." With that accent. Wearing that shirt. I say again, Dumb. Ass.
Continue...
Thursday, March 28, 2013
This only happens in the movies...
Dunedin - you darling lovely city.
Samples was right, I really do need to hold onto my hat!
I was in a shit mood. Just grumpy and moody and generally displeasing to be around. Whats the best way to reverse this?... Some good ol' flirting, with the possibility of a lovely innocent make-out to follow.
ENTER: The Professor.
Our first night in town and in search of some cider, KFarm, The Canadian and I end up at a bar on the corner in the Octagon (basically the downtown area of Dunedin, shaped like...you guessed it...an octagon).
We land on a lovely table in the middle of the bar and snag a few hard ciders. Relaxing and surveying the scene, I do some casual window shopping. I notice a tall gentleman facing away from me at the table behind ours, and casually slip to the ladies room to snag a better look......
.....
Shit. He's pretty damn cute too!
ENTER: Chin Strap and The Asian Wingman.
Oh Chin Strap. Your beard is hideous. NO ONE should EVER grown a chin strap beard. EVER.
As I'm ordering another cider I get chatted up by Chin Strap and The Asian Wingman. They follow me back to our table (sorry again girls!) and proceed to split their attention between KFarm and myself. I have a lovely 20 minute conversation with The Asian Wingman about how he thinks that he loves his girlfriend (who currently lives in Missouri). KFarm enjoyed some awkward moments with Chin Strap (see: That Awkward Moment When)
The Canadian ends up over at the at the other table, as they overheard her accent and coincidentally were going to Canada later this year.
The dynamic duo depart our table after buying rounds of tequila shots for us didn't seem to make us any more receptive, but you never knew when Chin Strap was going to show back up....he would flit off for a minute then...BAM...he's back over your shoulder. His sudden absence sent KFarm and I scrambling to The Canadians current table.
Well....hello there Professor.
1. Tall.
2. A pleasing mixture of rugged and adorable.
3. New Zealand accent.
Feeling awkward and not up to dancing just yet, I figured I had nothing to loose and thought to myself: "Yes, I think I'll just park myself riiiiiight here at your elbow for the next 20 or so minutes and we'll see if there's a brain in there as well....."
4. He is S-M-A-R-T.
The next few bits are a little jumbled up in my head chronologically, so I'll revert to bullet points:
- I didn't pay for a drink the rest of the night.
- The DJ and I were BFF's for about 3 hours.
- New Zealand accents are the tequila of linguistics.
- I did the washing machine on the dance floor (Top Ten Ways You Know LP is Drunk)
At one point, The Professor and I are face to face. How this happened I cant recall, but I wasn't mad about it.
Eye contact: Established.
Eye contact: Maintained for 1.....2......3......4 seconds.
Solid make out. On a dance floor. With a kiwi. That. Just. Happened.
Then.....the music cuts and the lights are flicked on momentarily blinding me. Suddenly, I'm skipping like a school girl out the front door. All four of us are standing in the street, its 2am and The Professor is saying goodbyes to my traveling companions.
Eye contact: Re-established
Eye contact: Maintained for 1......2.......ah screw it. My hands snake behind his head and (again) solid make out. For 10ish minutes. In the middle of the road. Like. A. Boss.
I finally manage to distract myself enough to pull away, mutter something cute and vapid like "Really, no I mean realllly nice to meet you. If I'm ever in town again, I'm hunting you down." He flashes the most knee weakening grin my way and says something in agreement and away we go. Me skipping like an idiot, him sauntering down the road most likely never to be seen again.
KFarm and Canada try and talk me into emailing him the next day, but I politely refuse. It was too perfect of a moment, and my luck would be that he's married, or actually a douche bag, or boring as hell, or some horrible combo of all three. I wanted to leave it as a sweet, passionate lip lock in the middle of the road at 2am in New Zealand.
Until we opted to stay in town for a week instead of two days as originally planned.
My curiosity got the better of me...
Ignoring all logic in my head, I shoot him an email with some nonsense about "Oh, I just want some advice on neat things in the area. Where are good hikes, great food, etc., etc."
And what do you know, he actually wrote me back!
Lines of entertaining witty banter later, and I am suddenly rather interested to talk to him in a non-intoxicated state.
Evening plans were discussed, and seeing as neither KFarm nor Canada wanted to go out, he was stuck with me. Im not sure at this point exactly what he was thinking, but I was slightly petrified.
A. I couldn't remember for the life of me if he really was as cute as I thought he was.
B. In modern day america, there can be certain "expectations" that go along with having drinks, and I just don't operate that way.
C. The inevitable thought of: What if he's actually interested in either of my rather attractive traveling companions and is just being polite in dealing with my nerd conversation and lack of fashionable dress?
I tell myself to quit being an idiot and just go have a quick drink. It'll either be fun, or it will suck.
I throw on some decently attractive combination of clothing that I have and scoot out the door before Canada and KFarm try and dress me up any more than I'm comfortable with. They tried to get me to wear a scarf for goodness sakes! (Hey you: true story. Focus, and quit snickering to yourself.)
Waiting in front of the bar we met at originally a million thoughts whizz through my head. I lost myself in negativity for a moment....
What if he stands me up?
What if my hair looks horrible?
What if he thinks I'm boring?
"Well, hello there." Says a pair of shoes with a kiwi accent suddenly standing next to me.
My eyes fly up the tall frame that is now facing me. Eye contact: ......... Look at that smirk. He's waaaaaay cuter than I remember......
Shit, did I put deodorant on??
Continued...
Samples was right, I really do need to hold onto my hat!
I was in a shit mood. Just grumpy and moody and generally displeasing to be around. Whats the best way to reverse this?... Some good ol' flirting, with the possibility of a lovely innocent make-out to follow.
ENTER: The Professor.
Our first night in town and in search of some cider, KFarm, The Canadian and I end up at a bar on the corner in the Octagon (basically the downtown area of Dunedin, shaped like...you guessed it...an octagon).
We land on a lovely table in the middle of the bar and snag a few hard ciders. Relaxing and surveying the scene, I do some casual window shopping. I notice a tall gentleman facing away from me at the table behind ours, and casually slip to the ladies room to snag a better look......
.....
Shit. He's pretty damn cute too!
ENTER: Chin Strap and The Asian Wingman.
Oh Chin Strap. Your beard is hideous. NO ONE should EVER grown a chin strap beard. EVER.
As I'm ordering another cider I get chatted up by Chin Strap and The Asian Wingman. They follow me back to our table (sorry again girls!) and proceed to split their attention between KFarm and myself. I have a lovely 20 minute conversation with The Asian Wingman about how he thinks that he loves his girlfriend (who currently lives in Missouri). KFarm enjoyed some awkward moments with Chin Strap (see: That Awkward Moment When)
The Canadian ends up over at the at the other table, as they overheard her accent and coincidentally were going to Canada later this year.
The dynamic duo depart our table after buying rounds of tequila shots for us didn't seem to make us any more receptive, but you never knew when Chin Strap was going to show back up....he would flit off for a minute then...BAM...he's back over your shoulder. His sudden absence sent KFarm and I scrambling to The Canadians current table.
Well....hello there Professor.
1. Tall.
2. A pleasing mixture of rugged and adorable.
3. New Zealand accent.
Feeling awkward and not up to dancing just yet, I figured I had nothing to loose and thought to myself: "Yes, I think I'll just park myself riiiiiight here at your elbow for the next 20 or so minutes and we'll see if there's a brain in there as well....."
4. He is S-M-A-R-T.
The next few bits are a little jumbled up in my head chronologically, so I'll revert to bullet points:
- I didn't pay for a drink the rest of the night.
- The DJ and I were BFF's for about 3 hours.
- New Zealand accents are the tequila of linguistics.
- I did the washing machine on the dance floor (Top Ten Ways You Know LP is Drunk)
At one point, The Professor and I are face to face. How this happened I cant recall, but I wasn't mad about it.
Eye contact: Established.
Eye contact: Maintained for 1.....2......3......4 seconds.
Solid make out. On a dance floor. With a kiwi. That. Just. Happened.
Then.....the music cuts and the lights are flicked on momentarily blinding me. Suddenly, I'm skipping like a school girl out the front door. All four of us are standing in the street, its 2am and The Professor is saying goodbyes to my traveling companions.
Eye contact: Re-established
Eye contact: Maintained for 1......2.......ah screw it. My hands snake behind his head and (again) solid make out. For 10ish minutes. In the middle of the road. Like. A. Boss.
I finally manage to distract myself enough to pull away, mutter something cute and vapid like "Really, no I mean realllly nice to meet you. If I'm ever in town again, I'm hunting you down." He flashes the most knee weakening grin my way and says something in agreement and away we go. Me skipping like an idiot, him sauntering down the road most likely never to be seen again.
KFarm and Canada try and talk me into emailing him the next day, but I politely refuse. It was too perfect of a moment, and my luck would be that he's married, or actually a douche bag, or boring as hell, or some horrible combo of all three. I wanted to leave it as a sweet, passionate lip lock in the middle of the road at 2am in New Zealand.
Until we opted to stay in town for a week instead of two days as originally planned.
My curiosity got the better of me...
Ignoring all logic in my head, I shoot him an email with some nonsense about "Oh, I just want some advice on neat things in the area. Where are good hikes, great food, etc., etc."
And what do you know, he actually wrote me back!
Lines of entertaining witty banter later, and I am suddenly rather interested to talk to him in a non-intoxicated state.
Evening plans were discussed, and seeing as neither KFarm nor Canada wanted to go out, he was stuck with me. Im not sure at this point exactly what he was thinking, but I was slightly petrified.
A. I couldn't remember for the life of me if he really was as cute as I thought he was.
B. In modern day america, there can be certain "expectations" that go along with having drinks, and I just don't operate that way.
C. The inevitable thought of: What if he's actually interested in either of my rather attractive traveling companions and is just being polite in dealing with my nerd conversation and lack of fashionable dress?
I tell myself to quit being an idiot and just go have a quick drink. It'll either be fun, or it will suck.
I throw on some decently attractive combination of clothing that I have and scoot out the door before Canada and KFarm try and dress me up any more than I'm comfortable with. They tried to get me to wear a scarf for goodness sakes! (Hey you: true story. Focus, and quit snickering to yourself.)
Waiting in front of the bar we met at originally a million thoughts whizz through my head. I lost myself in negativity for a moment....
What if he stands me up?
What if my hair looks horrible?
What if he thinks I'm boring?
"Well, hello there." Says a pair of shoes with a kiwi accent suddenly standing next to me.
My eyes fly up the tall frame that is now facing me. Eye contact: ......... Look at that smirk. He's waaaaaay cuter than I remember......
Shit, did I put deodorant on??
Continued...
Friday, March 8, 2013
Holy shit, we rented a car
Also, Canmericans reunite!
This is gonna be a long one....
SO.
The lovely folks at Omega Rental Cars are brave enough to entrust us with a vehicle designed to drive on the wrong side of the road. What more can I say.
Day One: Beyonceeeee
Nelson to Franz Josef: roughly 7 hours in the car.
Fact: Cat has the BEST music selection on her phone. Win.
Leaving Nelson around noon with our Canadian in the backseat, we arrived in Franz Josef late that night. I promptly passed the hell out.
Day Two: Glacier to Adrenaline Capital
Franz Josef to Queenstown: roughly 6 hours
1. Glaciers, while of great geological significance, are not thus far not the coolest thing I've ever laid eyes on. What they carve out, however, is AMAZING.
2. No socks + tennis shoes = blister
3. Left side driving is terrifying through roundabouts.
We landed in Queenstown for a few days, exploring the area, and unsuccessfully trying to catch a rugby game.
Day 5: Queenstown to Glenorchy to Milford Sound
I dont even know how many hours. But it was one hell of a drive....
Leaving Queenstown, we cruised over to Glenorchy for....Horseback Riding!! Katie and I rode through a few Lord of the Rings filming sites, a few river crossings, lake views, horses spooking at birds, nothing out of the ordinary.
From Glenorchy we drove back thru Queenstown, dropping Blue Ivy off for a quick check up. She'd been sounding a bit squeaky and we were headed into some pretty steep territory. I like brakes that work.
Oddly enough, hers were SHOT. So we got a new rental! Meet Bruno Timberlake Mars. He's a sweet cruiser with working speakers and killer pick up! I could actually pass people in this boat!
The drive to Milford was insane. Gorgeous views, the craziest tunnel EVER, and some of the most raw scenery that I have seen to date. I have now seen mountains from the ground my dears, and they are even more spectacular to stare up at as they are to stare down upon. Now I want to climb one....
Milford Sound. No words. I can hardly believe that before we left for NZ, I wasn't sure that we were really going to make it down there. I cannot tell you how brilliant everything was. And my god! The stars! Imagine the best night skyline you've ever seen, multiply its beauty and the brightness of the stars 10 fold.
If you add anything to your bucket list, make it Milford.
I snagged a lovely little cruise, talked to a sweet Irish family while we gaped at the scenery. Just freaking unreal.
Day 7: Milford Sound to Dunedin
Long. Ass. Drive.
No. Really. I was a big ball of incoherent when we finally rolled into Dunedin. Food was required stat, or I was going to keel over right there in the street.
Meet the love of my life: Velvet Burger. If you are EVER in Dunedin. Please dear god, go to Velvet Burger. Get a Homegrown and devour that sucker. You wont be disappointed.
Dunedin gets its very own post, so I wont elaborate too much here.
We ended up staying in town for 6 days, which was the perfect break from the non-stop cross country touring we'd been doing thus far.
Day 14: Dunedin to Christchurch to Kaikoura
Pace yourself. Dunedin -> Chch = 5 hours. Chch -> Kaikoura = 3ish hours
Leaving the lovely city of Dunedin, we snaked our way along the coast and up to Christchurch. It was SO nice to be in a car again for a little while. There is something therapeutic about belting power ballads while cruising along coastal roads.
The Canadian met up with family in Christchurch and we explored the shipping container mall set up close to the red zone.
Rolling out of Christchurch we zigzagged up to a beautiful coastal town called Kaikoura. Face one way, beautiful beaches with miles of thundering waves.
180 degree about face and you are staring at snow capped mountains. To abuse my already overused descriptive word some more....the view was unreal.
I turned into a bum and did a little sun soaking whilst I made some alternate travel plans.....
This is gonna be a long one....
SO.
The lovely folks at Omega Rental Cars are brave enough to entrust us with a vehicle designed to drive on the wrong side of the road. What more can I say.
Day One: Beyonceeeee
Nelson to Franz Josef: roughly 7 hours in the car.
Fact: Cat has the BEST music selection on her phone. Win.
Leaving Nelson around noon with our Canadian in the backseat, we arrived in Franz Josef late that night. I promptly passed the hell out.
Day Two: Glacier to Adrenaline Capital
Franz Josef to Queenstown: roughly 6 hours
1. Glaciers, while of great geological significance, are not thus far not the coolest thing I've ever laid eyes on. What they carve out, however, is AMAZING.
2. No socks + tennis shoes = blister
3. Left side driving is terrifying through roundabouts.
We landed in Queenstown for a few days, exploring the area, and unsuccessfully trying to catch a rugby game.
Day 5: Queenstown to Glenorchy to Milford Sound
I dont even know how many hours. But it was one hell of a drive....
Leaving Queenstown, we cruised over to Glenorchy for....Horseback Riding!! Katie and I rode through a few Lord of the Rings filming sites, a few river crossings, lake views, horses spooking at birds, nothing out of the ordinary.
From Glenorchy we drove back thru Queenstown, dropping Blue Ivy off for a quick check up. She'd been sounding a bit squeaky and we were headed into some pretty steep territory. I like brakes that work.
Oddly enough, hers were SHOT. So we got a new rental! Meet Bruno Timberlake Mars. He's a sweet cruiser with working speakers and killer pick up! I could actually pass people in this boat!
The drive to Milford was insane. Gorgeous views, the craziest tunnel EVER, and some of the most raw scenery that I have seen to date. I have now seen mountains from the ground my dears, and they are even more spectacular to stare up at as they are to stare down upon. Now I want to climb one....
Milford Sound. No words. I can hardly believe that before we left for NZ, I wasn't sure that we were really going to make it down there. I cannot tell you how brilliant everything was. And my god! The stars! Imagine the best night skyline you've ever seen, multiply its beauty and the brightness of the stars 10 fold.
If you add anything to your bucket list, make it Milford.
I snagged a lovely little cruise, talked to a sweet Irish family while we gaped at the scenery. Just freaking unreal.
Day 7: Milford Sound to Dunedin
Long. Ass. Drive.
No. Really. I was a big ball of incoherent when we finally rolled into Dunedin. Food was required stat, or I was going to keel over right there in the street.
Meet the love of my life: Velvet Burger. If you are EVER in Dunedin. Please dear god, go to Velvet Burger. Get a Homegrown and devour that sucker. You wont be disappointed.
Dunedin gets its very own post, so I wont elaborate too much here.
We ended up staying in town for 6 days, which was the perfect break from the non-stop cross country touring we'd been doing thus far.
Day 14: Dunedin to Christchurch to Kaikoura
Pace yourself. Dunedin -> Chch = 5 hours. Chch -> Kaikoura = 3ish hours
Leaving the lovely city of Dunedin, we snaked our way along the coast and up to Christchurch. It was SO nice to be in a car again for a little while. There is something therapeutic about belting power ballads while cruising along coastal roads.
The Canadian met up with family in Christchurch and we explored the shipping container mall set up close to the red zone.
Rolling out of Christchurch we zigzagged up to a beautiful coastal town called Kaikoura. Face one way, beautiful beaches with miles of thundering waves.
180 degree about face and you are staring at snow capped mountains. To abuse my already overused descriptive word some more....the view was unreal.
I turned into a bum and did a little sun soaking whilst I made some alternate travel plans.....
The heart of life is good
So I believe in this thing called karma. Do unto others, etcetera, etcetera. I have never in my short life felt its effects so profoundly until recently. And never did i ever think that a piece of clothing could illustrate it for me. Least of all a girly red skirt.
I lost myself a long while back. Lost sight of goals, of genuine humor, imagination, creativity, the need for fresh air. All things that defined who I was as a person. This is the story of how I found my road map back.
I wont do into great detail here, but though a series of relationships (both platonic and romantic), I have discovered that I am a chameleon of sorts. I adopt traits of the people I'm around that I find amusing, beautiful and/or real. It took several years and a lot of painful situations to realize that this was the person that I was allowing myself to be. I caused a great deal of pain and unnecessary heartache to people who cared a great deal for me, and for that I will probably never be able to apologize properly.
There is this absolutely heartrending speech called "The Last Lecture" by Randy Pausch. I still am ever grateful to the T.A. of my required speech class for forcing us to watch it. In it, Randy goes over the requirements for a real apology. They come in three parts:
1. Actually saying the words "I'm sorry"
2. These words should be followed by an admittance of what you have done wrong.
3. The third, and in my eyes the most crucial part, is asking: "What can I do to fix it?"
Its this last part that makes it a real apology, showing that you really and truly want to right the wrong you caused.
The wrongs that I've made make me who I am today. Without the guilt that springs forth from the pain I've caused I would be lost. Guilt and pain are my compass, steering me north towards balance, honesty and love.
The realization that I wasn't myself, but a collection of reflections of those that I placed on a pedestal, was not a kind one. I lost the confidence that I had scraped together after years of physical insecurity. I longed to be fitter, to be funnier, to be beautiful, to be fiery and passionate about life and love.
I stifled my insecurities and threw myself into work. Ignoring the weaknesses that I saw and flaws that I carried about my personality and body image. I focused on my brain first. Starting an imaging business, I relished creating beautiful things for people. Each client a new challenge. I threw myself into my career as a veterinary technician. Where can I improve, how many balls can I juggle at once. Can I fix a printer and start two rooms all while prepping surgery? (Im my head, yes. In reality, not quite haha.)
The hectic work hours that I had were a blessing. Distracting me from the life issues that I was facing. My professional life was strong as an ox. Personally? I was an awkward turtle.
Tackling this weakness next, I ended up in one of the most outright, honest, mentally freeing relationships that I have ever had.
What a feeling that was! I was completely myself. Awkward, nerdy, horrible timing and all, and he laughed not at me, but WITH me. It was the breath of fresh air that I needed. My self confidence began its climb back up the mountain.
Enter this blessed country: New Zealand.
Self confidence at half mast, I now focused on physical fitness. I wanted to fit into single digit clothes. I wanted to climb mountains on my crooked legs of steel. I wanted my summer skin back.
So I walked, and packed, and climbed, and walked some more. Sweat, sweat, sweat.
An amazing thing happened. I don't know if its the constantly changing scenery or all of the fresh air, but my imagination is GROWING. Each new view we see tells me a story. Metaphors are STILL flying through my head like comets. I can't write it all down fast enough.
3 days ago, in Queenstown, we stopped in a second hand store. I wasn't shopping, because I honestly didn't need to spend the money, nor did I need to stuff MORE things into my pack.
I saw a flash of red peek out from the middle of a rack. Pulling it from the line up I admired the cut and feel of the fabric. Its the PERFECT lindy hop skirt. Long enough to cover my silly crooked knees and cut in that perfect shape to fling out when you spin.
Looking at the size, there was a slim possibility that I might actually fit in it. In US sizing, it was an 8, not a stretchy jean fabric 8, but a "you better hope to god you're an 8" 8.
I slink into the fitting room, shimmy out of my jeans and pull this beautiful fabric on. Fit like a glove.
I cried like a baby. I looked like I had always wanted to look. Skin tight black tank top tucked into a high waisted bright red dream skirt.
Of course I bought it.
I tell you in all honesty, its all worth it. Every inch of shit that you will stomp through. Its all worth it for moments like that. Ignore the shit, there will always be more of it. Hold onto those bright moments, that's what makes it worth it.
If you're sad, figure out why. Find the source and confront it. Cut it from your life if necessary. If you're happy, say so. Say why and say it often. Let the people you love know that they are loved. Life is too short to do anything else my darlings.
I lost myself a long while back. Lost sight of goals, of genuine humor, imagination, creativity, the need for fresh air. All things that defined who I was as a person. This is the story of how I found my road map back.
I wont do into great detail here, but though a series of relationships (both platonic and romantic), I have discovered that I am a chameleon of sorts. I adopt traits of the people I'm around that I find amusing, beautiful and/or real. It took several years and a lot of painful situations to realize that this was the person that I was allowing myself to be. I caused a great deal of pain and unnecessary heartache to people who cared a great deal for me, and for that I will probably never be able to apologize properly.
There is this absolutely heartrending speech called "The Last Lecture" by Randy Pausch. I still am ever grateful to the T.A. of my required speech class for forcing us to watch it. In it, Randy goes over the requirements for a real apology. They come in three parts:
1. Actually saying the words "I'm sorry"
2. These words should be followed by an admittance of what you have done wrong.
3. The third, and in my eyes the most crucial part, is asking: "What can I do to fix it?"
Its this last part that makes it a real apology, showing that you really and truly want to right the wrong you caused.
The wrongs that I've made make me who I am today. Without the guilt that springs forth from the pain I've caused I would be lost. Guilt and pain are my compass, steering me north towards balance, honesty and love.
The realization that I wasn't myself, but a collection of reflections of those that I placed on a pedestal, was not a kind one. I lost the confidence that I had scraped together after years of physical insecurity. I longed to be fitter, to be funnier, to be beautiful, to be fiery and passionate about life and love.
I stifled my insecurities and threw myself into work. Ignoring the weaknesses that I saw and flaws that I carried about my personality and body image. I focused on my brain first. Starting an imaging business, I relished creating beautiful things for people. Each client a new challenge. I threw myself into my career as a veterinary technician. Where can I improve, how many balls can I juggle at once. Can I fix a printer and start two rooms all while prepping surgery? (Im my head, yes. In reality, not quite haha.)
The hectic work hours that I had were a blessing. Distracting me from the life issues that I was facing. My professional life was strong as an ox. Personally? I was an awkward turtle.
Tackling this weakness next, I ended up in one of the most outright, honest, mentally freeing relationships that I have ever had.
What a feeling that was! I was completely myself. Awkward, nerdy, horrible timing and all, and he laughed not at me, but WITH me. It was the breath of fresh air that I needed. My self confidence began its climb back up the mountain.
Enter this blessed country: New Zealand.
Self confidence at half mast, I now focused on physical fitness. I wanted to fit into single digit clothes. I wanted to climb mountains on my crooked legs of steel. I wanted my summer skin back.
So I walked, and packed, and climbed, and walked some more. Sweat, sweat, sweat.
An amazing thing happened. I don't know if its the constantly changing scenery or all of the fresh air, but my imagination is GROWING. Each new view we see tells me a story. Metaphors are STILL flying through my head like comets. I can't write it all down fast enough.
3 days ago, in Queenstown, we stopped in a second hand store. I wasn't shopping, because I honestly didn't need to spend the money, nor did I need to stuff MORE things into my pack.
I saw a flash of red peek out from the middle of a rack. Pulling it from the line up I admired the cut and feel of the fabric. Its the PERFECT lindy hop skirt. Long enough to cover my silly crooked knees and cut in that perfect shape to fling out when you spin.
Looking at the size, there was a slim possibility that I might actually fit in it. In US sizing, it was an 8, not a stretchy jean fabric 8, but a "you better hope to god you're an 8" 8.
I slink into the fitting room, shimmy out of my jeans and pull this beautiful fabric on. Fit like a glove.
I cried like a baby. I looked like I had always wanted to look. Skin tight black tank top tucked into a high waisted bright red dream skirt.
Of course I bought it.
I tell you in all honesty, its all worth it. Every inch of shit that you will stomp through. Its all worth it for moments like that. Ignore the shit, there will always be more of it. Hold onto those bright moments, that's what makes it worth it.
If you're sad, figure out why. Find the source and confront it. Cut it from your life if necessary. If you're happy, say so. Say why and say it often. Let the people you love know that they are loved. Life is too short to do anything else my darlings.
Canmericans Unite!
After leaving Picton, we snagged a bus to the lovely city of Nelson on the first leg of our southern tour.
I am great at reading maps, but holy mother of goodness do I suck at judging distances.
A "quick stroll" from the bus stop to our hostel morphed into an "I didn't know I could sweat that much" 30 minute trek. Nice.
The gentleman who took us to our room asked it we were friends with the two people already here as the four of us had booked the room within 10 minutes of each other.
"Nope"
Canmericans Unite! Wait...what?
Cat (Canada) and Max (USA), meet LP and KFarm.
It was like the A-Team was reborn in New Zealand. Only instead of driving a sweet van, we get to pedal along like dorks on free rental bikes while wearing ill-fitting (completely useless in the case of a crash) helmets.
I am great at reading maps, but holy mother of goodness do I suck at judging distances.
A "quick stroll" from the bus stop to our hostel morphed into an "I didn't know I could sweat that much" 30 minute trek. Nice.
The gentleman who took us to our room asked it we were friends with the two people already here as the four of us had booked the room within 10 minutes of each other.
"Nope"
Canmericans Unite! Wait...what?
Cat (Canada) and Max (USA), meet LP and KFarm.
It was like the A-Team was reborn in New Zealand. Only instead of driving a sweet van, we get to pedal along like dorks on free rental bikes while wearing ill-fitting (completely useless in the case of a crash) helmets.
Wednesday, March 6, 2013
Hey Truck Truck
After the giant ferry boat KFarm and I landed in Picton for a few nights at a hostel called The Fat Cod.
I firmly believe that this is roughly where we learned to travel together efficiently.
Annoying Things LP Does According to KFarm
- I should drink good wine ONLY. Goon Lauren = Big Dumb
- I award/detract fictional points to people based off of entertaining/sucky things they say/do.
- Singing unnecessarily ALL THE DAMN TIME
- Unnecessarily random purchases - ie. "Why did you buy eggs and FORGET them at the last hostel?"
Annoying Things KFarm Does According to LP:
- She is always right, unless she's wrong...then she's right.
- She is constantly "loosing" important items in the pocket of her backpack (ie. room keys, cell phone, etc.)
- Screaming while crossing the street is totally acceptable (and leaves me on the other side of the street feeling like the mother who's child just knocked over the pyramid of cans at the end of the aisle).
- 50/50 shot that her internal GPS is right
Writing this post now, trying to compile our annoyance lists, she and I couldn't think of anything current that really and truly bothered us about the other person. In all honesty, we ended up laughing about all of the crap we just listed (especially street screaming).
That's a pretty damn good place to be at.
I firmly believe that this is roughly where we learned to travel together efficiently.
Annoying Things LP Does According to KFarm
- I should drink good wine ONLY. Goon Lauren = Big Dumb
- I award/detract fictional points to people based off of entertaining/sucky things they say/do.
- Singing unnecessarily ALL THE DAMN TIME
- Unnecessarily random purchases - ie. "Why did you buy eggs and FORGET them at the last hostel?"
Annoying Things KFarm Does According to LP:
- She is always right, unless she's wrong...then she's right.
- She is constantly "loosing" important items in the pocket of her backpack (ie. room keys, cell phone, etc.)
- Screaming while crossing the street is totally acceptable (and leaves me on the other side of the street feeling like the mother who's child just knocked over the pyramid of cans at the end of the aisle).
- 50/50 shot that her internal GPS is right
Writing this post now, trying to compile our annoyance lists, she and I couldn't think of anything current that really and truly bothered us about the other person. In all honesty, we ended up laughing about all of the crap we just listed (especially street screaming).
That's a pretty damn good place to be at.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)