Waste

18 December 2008: My first thought on this sunny, birthday morning was: i'm 27 years old - this sucks.

My next thought was: it's Thursday - my morning workout day. And I felt better.

I find my mood is more affected by my activity level, less by the weather. I've come to believe in the power of perspiration, not precipitation. So, I sweat. And I smile.

On Skype, I update mom and dad with my birthday goal:
- J: At 27 years old, I should have a 27 inch waist.
- M: You should be 127 pounds!
- J: What?! Mom, at the end of high school I was 148 pounds and in fine swimming shape...

- M: No, at 127 you'd be svelte.
- J: I'd be bones!
- D: Bones and svelte...

image from: espion

Band

17 December 2008: Team Albi strikes gold at the Canterbury Volleyball Association 4-man social beach games.



At our infancy, I offered a selection of team names:
- "flight of the volleyballs"
- "who likes to rock the party?"
- "brett, jermaine, murray, and mel"
- "you, me, you, and jermaine"
- "team albi"

But now, we are called the champions!

Play

12 December 2008: Flat outing - La Cage Aux Folles.

Feathers, songbirds, and lots of panache.


image from: the court live theatre

Guts

08 December 2008: Feast of the Immaculate Conception at St. Patrick's Cathedral in Auckland.

Reminds me of the joke: I've been Catholic since I was conceived...

image from: robertevans_com

Vocal

06 December 2008: Alicia Keys concert in Auckland.

Soul - oh, duet - with her backup man, and trio - with me. What a musical feast!

image from: stuff

Engagement

09 August 2008: Happy engagement Jen and John!

On Saturday, 9 August, 2008
John _ _,
from Bradford, West Yorkshire proposed to
Jennifer _ _, from Los Angeles, CA
whilst on the top of the London Eye to which she happily accepted.

The couple have been living together in Guildford, Surrey and look forward to beginning to plan their wedding.

image from: jennifer

Vigilante

24 August 2008: Last week, Christchurch welcomed the 6th most powerful woman in the world of 2004, US Supreme Court Justice Sandra Day O'Connor.

This week, the Auckland University Students Association is offering a $5000 reward for a citizen's arrest of the 1st most powerful woman in the world of 2004, US National Security Advisor Condoleezza Rice.

Revolution

19 July 2008: Here's the scene from a West Coast birthday bash in a backyard tent:

Country blokes standing in a line, gripping their beer, and looking bored. Across from them, the drunken birthday girl drags defenseless family and friends onto the dance floor for a creative version of the can-can.

In one corner, rests an entire lamb roast and carnage in pieces. In the adjacent corner, the massive lamb oven radiates beside a sizable pool teeming with ice and alcohol.

And then - suddenly - a dancer leaves the dance floor to leap and swing around a tent pole. Inside twirling leg tucked, outside leg straight. A smooth revolution.

The effect was like turning a switch. The country blokes are now gripping their beers, with smiles beaming...

And to my complete amusement, then the entire drunken hoard gave it a go - drunken birthday girl, drunken environmental conservationists, drunken country mothers, and drunken overweight blokes. All trying to grab the main tent pole to swing over a table.

The poor table didn't stand a chance. No one but the trained pole dancer could clear the table, let alone the floor!

She did a encore quadruple swing over the crushed, 3-legged remains. I lost my voice laughing.

Image from: jackie

Supreme

18 August 2008: Today I had a chat with former Supreme Court Justice, Sandra Day O'Connor.

Here's a press statement: O'Connor is in Christchurch as an Eric Hotung Fellow after retiring from the Supreme Court in 2005. Hotung donated $HK1 million ($NZ185,000) to Canterbury University in 2005 to bring lawyers of international standing to the city and enhance the profile of the school.

She's been giving a series of law seminars: Rule of law around the world, Reflections from the US Supreme Court, and Guantanamo Bay: Legal black hole?

After today's talk, I introduced myself as a fellow American, shook her hand, and welcomed her to New Zealand. She was pleasantly surprised and asked what everyone else asks me: Why are you here?!

I told her it's the same reason she was brought here: funding.

Image from: the press

30

09 July 2008: Happy Birthday Jennifer!

image from: aprille

Front

05 July 2008: Happy Birthday Small!

I plowed my 4wd through the snow and up the hills to join in the celebrations. The wind was howling - and so was I - with crippling back pain.

Sadly, I will have to hang up the bicycle this week.

image from: geoftheref

Second

04 July 2008: An invitation for an American/New Zealand crossover celebration at Kolbe House:

Join us at Kolbe House after mass for a lunch party to celebrate the 4th of July (it's an American thing) and also the 5th anniversary of Fr John's ordination (it's a Catholic thing). There will be plenty of hot dogs, apple pie and some beer.

Dr Peter Field (UC History Dept) will give a short talk on John Adams, 2nd president of the United States and hero of the American Revolution. There will also be a presentation in honour of Fr John Adams.

Upon leaving, I ask Ken for a high five goodbye. I lean in. He laughs, puts up his hand and smashes forward - missing my face by a few inches. We try again, this time connecting far from square.

- Never do that with a blind man.
- We'll practice, Ken.

image from: sullivan-county

Welcome

03 July 2008: Happy Birthday baby Oscar!

Congratulations Mama Stephanie and Papa Frank!

image from: Frank

Buildering

13 May 2008: Today I had my first outdoor climb - scaling the university library.

Phillipe was there for moral support, and other members of the UC Climbing club were in fancy dress. Some in no dress at all...

Afterwards, I ate a celebratory sausage with my strong, sausage sized fingers.

Please check out the local news coverage video and pictures.

image from: jackie

Found

13 February 2008:

Greetings from Whangamata, Coromandel, North Island, New Zealand. Or more precisely: Paradise.

My first night in Whangamata I enjoyed the Nauti Girls angling competion, hence Nauti(al). I drank beer with sunburned kiwi women dressed as team lipstick, camouflage, or shark attack costumes and men in t-shirts reading "nauti bouy" and women's versions with "prawn star".

I met a hilarious local out in a boat from 6.30 AM to 5.00 PM. She caught 2 fish in the first 2 hours, got sea-sick, slept, got up to smoke a cigarette, and slept some more.

Such a wonderfully laid back, humorous, clean fun country. Come visit!

Here the mountains grip the sea, forest reserves lead to isolated waterfalls, and the surf stretches across a sandy beach. [Hm, reminds me of Malibu in LA...nevermind!]

I heart NZ!

images from: jackie

Piece

1 December 2007: Kate's blog entry on our bike ride for peace through East Timor. Enjoy.

Flashback: Maubisse to Dili Roadrace

Talking with my sister via Skype I realized that I never told to story of the bike race, and that my family have only heard bits and pieces, primarily that I fell off. It was much more glorious than that, so some retroactive blogging is in order:

My friend Boatshoe and I were brought together because of three things, rugby, prom dresses (or more accurately, rugby in prom dresses) and bikes. When it turned out that she would be coming though Timor-Leste en route to New Zealand (via Japan, Cambodia, India, UK, Spain, Indonesia no sst.), and I realized that I could offer neither polyester or a pitch, bikes it was.

The race was organized to promote peace. Banners up around Dili featured a leggy, peddling dove and slogans about racial harmony and national unity. This is has been one of a series of public events aimed at rebuilding community cohesion and organized with the support of the Office of the President. The walk and concert on Saturday (22/12) are the next on the list.



With Boatshoe and L onboard, and Vulgar agreeing to be our support man/menu advisor/pit crew boss, we headed out to Maubisse. I packed myself into the back of the ute with the bikes, turned up the Stones, and counted the up- and down-hills with growing comprehension of my total lack of preparedness.

Maubisse sits high in the center of Timor-Leste, and really, that is still all I know about it. We arrived at the posada after dark, just as the rains came. And the scene was Timor-strange: I have never seen so many people carrying large weapons* next to so many people jumping around in bike helmets. At night. In the rain. The perpetually/prematurely be-helmed we dubbed “Team Helmet.”**

At about four in the morning Team Hemet was up running a lap around the posada. The toilet that we were sleeping behind was coming to life, and the Australian ISF started breaking down their metal cots; there was no going back to sleep. Boatshoes shook the president’s hand, and then it was time to make a move for Dili.



The race started with a slow and steady climb, then a series of long down-hills looking over a river valley patched with rice fields.

Through Aileu (doing fine…) and Bam! I took a turn too wide, braked to avoid the motorbike (and a cow), and bit the pavement. I got back on, amidst fortifying shouts of “Motor salah!” (“It’s the motorbike’s fault”) and tootled down the rest of the hill before assessing the damage. My back wheel was potato-chipped, and I had a few minor scrapes. Some bike swaps later, the three of us were on the road and securely in the back of the pack.

In the rear, with Team Helmet long gone, the stragglers – malae hotu-hotu – moaned our way up the hills. Boatshoe, with nothing to prove, joined Vulgar, and as we rolled by they’d serenade us with harmonica duets of Queen’s “Bicycle, Bicycle” from the bed of the Hilux.

Sixty-five kilometers, and four-plus hours later, L and I pulled in at the Indonesian-era gates welcoming people to descend to Dili. I passed my bike off to Boatshoe, ostensibly to let her glide gamely into the capital – a gesture she easily understood as coming from my exhaustion of being absolutely terrified on the steep hairpin turns.

To her unending credit, Boatshoe completed the worst uphill and the nastiest down-hill sections of the race. She was also the race’s only cyclist to wear flip-flops. Kudos, kudos.

Back in Dili the PA system was being packed away at the Palacio and the fanfare over the winner, who had made it in 2.5 hours – on par with a car – had probably already showered and watched the evening news. Kudos, kudos.

I want to do it again. To do it on my bike, to do it knowing what to expect, to do it after a good night’s sleep and a few weeks of sensible training. But that would be to ride it well, to make good time. What we did was truly a peace ride: at peace with taking up the rear, at peace with hurting for a week after, and accepting that sometimes the only thing to do is drop into the lowest gear and keep creeping forward, hoping things will get easier around the next bend.



* The large police contingent was in part due to the presence of the president at the posada,

** The majority of Timorese riders had matching bikes and helmets, suggesting significant and admirable sponsorship. These was also some great justice to it all, as it was finally the malaes who were stuck at the back dealing with equipment malfunctions.

Photos: Heading out from Dili. Bottom - Vulgar and Boatshoe before starting the race.

Lights

7 November 2007: First night of Diwali - Festival of Lights - and I celebrate with lights, camera, action as a Bollywood extra.

We're not talking Bollywood blockbuster - the show is a popular TV series, Kaajjal. There's no Aamir Khan, Salman Khan, nor Shahrukh Khan (each superstars of the Khan trio), but I would like to introduce my Bollywood stage name: A. Mary Khan.

The scene is a dance party in Goa. I am typecast as a tourist. I could complain to my agent, but he doesn't speak English.

Basically, I sit on the edge of the dance floor with Craig (American Bollywood extra, Carolinas USA). His blog, American Mumbaiker, details his work for a month now. We entertain ourselves watching belly dancers do basic steps while the director tells us to cheer or jump right into the dance.

The night shot was long, so I was happy to sit instead of do the tourist twist to Jennifer Lopez's If You Had My Love from 5PM to 5 AM.

A particular scene I enjoyed involved the main guy working his way through the tables, bar, front stage, and dance floor, as shimmying women blocked his view from his woman in waiting. Waiters also pass through and one comes up to my table to deliver a drink.

Take two: When the waiter sets the drink at my place again, I flip a coin onto his tray. He sets back and laughs. The scene continues and he returns my coin, teasing me it's a mere one Rupee. Serves him right, I wanted beer, not orange Fanta.

Dwo

6 November 2007: I met my former Brown housemate, Mandar (Solid Mechanics Professor, India), and his sister for dinner.

Unfortunately I won't be able to join their houshold for Diwali. Mandar's family continues to deliver wedding invitations for the December 2nd event and his mother has fallen ill.

Regardless, it was a pleasure to spend time with Mandar and get to know his sister. She was quite the helpful tutor. Now I can read Hindi numbers in order to catch the right bus.

Image from: Mandar (L-R: sister, bride, groom, mother, father)

Hiya

31 October 2007: Guildford Halloween pub crawl with Jennifer's pub co-workers.

[insert photo: jen/me] I dressed up as: Jen. It was easy - people always say we look practically like twins. I only needed three signifiers: 1) work shirt, 2) cashier card, and 3) the infamous mole.

Boom

25 October 2007: [insert photo: lunch plate] Went through El Raval and its trio of art centers (MACBA, FAD, CCCB) after a delicious lunch.

Most moving was the MACBA exhibition: Sota la bomba. El jazz de la guerra d’imatges transatlàntica. 1946-1956. I sat on the ground to watch the documentary video archives from the atomic bomb tests on Bikini Atoll.

[insert photo: modern art museum] I was shocked that people passed by the video, instead heading straight to the exhibition paintings on the wall. I guess it's standard museum protocol to look at art, but here's the real thing - right in your face - blast after blast.