First Day in OZ

November  2^nd 2011

(I wrote this a while ago obviously….and have since re-read and re-edited it a bit….further down there will be some minor quotations of my current opinion…as opposed to what I thought on November 2^nd 2011…it’s funny for me, may be confusing for you, so I’m sorry in advance..they’ll be this color…but hey, this is my blog, I do what I want J)

Back at the beach! Where I belong

My time in New Zealand was well spent.  I was really looking forward to leaving and starting my adventure in Gold Coast.  That may have had a lot to do with Matt’s descriptions of what I came to (which were WAY off) and the weather (another thing Matt lied about, because it was definitely NOT spring).  I think I came into NZ with a different mindset about where I was going and what I was going to do. 

However, when the time came to go, I felt a sadness that I wasn’t expecting before.  I had found my place in a way.  I was just coming into my own.   I had 3 jobs, 2 of which I enjoyed.  I had just started making real friends instead of acquaintances.  It was nice feeling.  One of which I wasn’t originally expecting because after the road trip my only motivation was to make back the money I had spent and save up for Gold Coast like an ant stores for winter.

Instead of being so closed off to the rest of New Zealand, I found when I opened myself up more I really began to enjoy it.  It wasn’t the first time I felt this way, it always happens.  I moved around a lot when I was younger and it always seemed that right as I began to find my way, we would move again and I would have to start all over.  I don’t blame anyone in particular for this, it’s just a fact and probably contributes to the wanderlust that I currently experience from time to time.   

When you first arrive at a new destination it all seems so HUGE.  Like it’s unconquerable almost, it’s overwhelming at times but I found the longer I was there, the easier it was to do things.  The more I got involved, the more I was invited to places, the more fun I had.  It’s a snowball effect. 

Tough to be intimidated with views like this

I was surprised when I first stepped off the plane at Gold Coast.  I was expecting to be more intimidated, to be more reclusive.  I was by myself traveling for the first time…ALL BY MYSELF, not just meeting someone, whole new country, didn’t know one person (except for my friend Locky who went to CCU with me, but he lives in Sydney), nowhere to live, nowhere to be. 

But I wasn’t, a little anxiety before we touched down but as soon as we did, it was like a calm came over me.  A sense of purpose, I knew my mission and I knew what I had to do. 

The checklist began like this: currency exchange, phone card so I could call the numbers I had saved and arrange meetings to check out apartments.  I put all this together probably my last week or 2 in New Zealand via the Internet.

That is NOT how that started however…forgot about a little guy named customs.  Funny because at the bag exchange, I struck up a conversation with a random female to pass the time and she had made a comment about how she was from New Zealand and didn’t have to worry about customs. 

I laughed and told her I wasn’t worried either, “I’m AMERICAN, they want me here”…she was not impressed, that’s where our conversation ended.  Maybe people really do hate us….ehhh, whatever, I’m a white American and not to be racist to any other culture in the world but in airports that’s almost like a V.I.P. pass.  They don’t think you want to blow anything up, but they know you want to spend money in their country….works out for everyone really. 

I went through the customs line.  Which if I have any advice about, do NOT under any circumstance get behind a group of Asians.  They carry around the most bags and dumbest stuff.  If they’re not taking pictures of everything in sight they’re lugging around their bags of complete crap that they just bought.  It’s inevitable. 

So of course, I get stuck behind one.  They’re putting through everything you could think of on to the conveyer belt, even some things you wouldn’t think about. 

That took way longer than necessary, I don’t know what these Asians were doing in Gold Coast but I’m pretty sure you don’t need hockey sticks for whatever it is.

Finally it was my turn and wouldn’t you know, I forgot that I had a little item that may be approved but it sure looked like it shouldn’t be.  I had to unpack my bag for a customs agent for my “Jack3d”.  Which for those who don’t know is a sort of protein powder that gives you energy before workouts, that just so happens to have a similar resemblance to cocaine.  FUN.  Forgot about that.  Here we go!

I’m trying to do my “Adam thing” and talk my way out of the situation (minus the usual alcohol influence), the American accent is a funny thing.  To some people (mainly girls) it’s very refreshing, something new, something even cute.  Maybe they just think we’re all rich or can get a green card, I don’t know.  

This gentleman was not impressed by my charm however.  So I begin explaining to him what is in my bag and the only 2 things I can think of that he has a problem with would be the electric shaver and the Jack3d.  He’s asking me if I packed my own bag and remember what’s in it….”what like item for item?”.

I think that’s the only reason he let me off the hook, was because I pretty much gave him a rundown of everything before I took it out.  I had no reason to lie.

 He looked through the whole bag, pulled out the Jack3d container and checked it out (by check out, I mean he opened and looked inside), saw that it wasn’t coke (no test or anything here), told me he would give me the benefit of the doubt and then gave me a proper scolding about how to fill out my immigration card. 

#6 Bring Any Food?

Apparently if it can be ingested it IS CONSIDERED FOOD, good to know…but if you’re scoring at home….White.  American.  Travel checkmate! 

That wasn’t even the hardest part about customs believe it or not, I went through 3 stations where none of the ladies could figure out why I didn’t have an address.  I kept getting weird looks and lots of questions from everyone trying to figure out what the hell I was doing there if I didn’t have a place to go. 

                Airport personnel: “Are you staying with a friend?”

                                Me: “No”

                Airport personnel:”Do you know anyone here with an address?”

                                Me:”No”

                Airport personnel:”Where are you going to stay?”

                                Me:”I don’t know yet”

                Airport personnel: “Why did you come to Australia?”

                                Me: “Because I was in New Zealand and it was close by”

                Airport personnel: (Series of sighs, disgruntled/horrified/confused faces) “Ok”

                                Me:”Aren’t you going to wish me luck!?”

                Airport personnel: “Good luck”

Travel CHECKMATE.  I’m telling you, it’s bulletproof.  I’ve been stopped on this trip several times because no joke, my bag looks like a bomb.  I have all of my electronics/most expensive items near me at all times.  Computer, video camera, phone, wires and plug-ins, plus batteries, the fact that I get through any airport is amazing to me.  But yet again, White.  American.  “This won’t take long” and “Move along sir”.  Thank you and goodnight!

I go through my checklist after customs, stop off to exchange my currency which by the way, New Zealand to Australia is absolute crap.  I go to the nearest computer and put a few coins in (Internet is not free in airports overseas) just to see if there are any updates/emails I need to know about. 

I strike up a conversation with a guy sitting next to me, he’s waiting to go on his shift, he tells me everything I need to know about the bus system.  How much it costs, what I need to get, where to go to get it, how long it is going to take, we chat for a bit and then I head off to do just that. 

A lot easier to navigate than I made it seem on day 1

I get a map and a “GoPass” for the bus.  I hop on said bus which lucky for me is a little early.  I meet Gary the bus driver.  My phone doesn’t work because they didn’t have a phone place in the terminal.  Gary is nice enough to let me use his phone to find my first 2 destinations.  He’s impressed with my story, Gary is more understanding than the customs people.  He likes that I’m here with no plan, he offers to help and gives me directions.   He also gives me his number and says he has an extra surf board if I ever want to come learn. 

He drops me off at 7^th street to get a sim card.  Unfortunately for me, that is NOWHERE near where I need to be and there isn’t a phone store for a few miles.  I talk to a lady at a grocery store who tells me where to go.  My rucksack weighs about 20kg or 44 lbs, no way I’m walking with that strapped to me.  I let out a mighty sigh, in the direction of…well…anyone who was in earshot. 

“You’re a stray aren’t you?”  I turn around and there’s a nice older gentleman standing next to me.  I say “Yes sir, fresh off the plane”.  He offers me a ride to “The Pines” which is a local mall area.  Nice guy, at no point did I think “Wolf Creek” was about to happen.  But then again I refuse to watch “Wolf Creek” because I think it will discourage me from the kindness of strangers. 

 I get out and get my phone situated.  Which is a pain in the balls in Australia, or at least with the Vodafone service, these Aussies are so caught up in physical addresses…I feel like I can’t get anywhere here!  I make up an address, give them some other intangible details and I’m pretty sure that I no longer am in possession of my first born child.  New Zealand was so much easier in all facets of moving. 

I have one for sure address and decide to head there.  I’m looking for Cypress Terrace, I ride the bus up to 27^th ave and walk to Cypress.  I’m looking for 9…I start seeing numbers in the 440’s.  FML.  I check the map, OF COURSE, I’m on NORTH Cypress and there’s a disconnected separate SOUTH Cypress.  Naturally, my keen detection skills have foiled me again.  Arrggh!

I see a guy loading surfboards into his car, I know where I am, I’m simply fishing for sympathy again.  I ask him which way I need to go.  He laughs out loud and tells me that I am way off. 

I realize this bro, I need a direction.  He tells me that he and his buddies are getting ready to go surfing but he’ll give me a ride before.  At this point, I’m absolutely LOVING the vibe GC has to offer.  I mean seriously, how nice are these people?

He drops me off at the first house.  Long story short,  it is absolutely awesome, huge house, huge back deck, nice people, close to the beach, the whole package.  One problem, a little too far south of the main suburbs (where I feel I can find work) and there wasn’t much there, but I keep it in mind and tell them I promised to look at a few others.

               

I walk off and grab lunch, grab a bus and start heading north.  I’m looking for Miami High School, I have no idea where this next place is.  It’s not on my map, I just have a general area.  I’m going over the directions and attempting to get things straight when I hear :

“Excuse me, any chance your name is Adam?”

WHOA.  First initial reaction was to completely ignore this person.  I don’t know a single person in Australia (except for my buddy Lockland who I went to school with at Coastal but he lives in Sydney), I’ve been here for less than 4 hours, I’m on a bus.  How does this person know my name?

So, of course I say Yes!  Damn this curiosity for the unknown I have crawling all over me. 

Turned out his name was Tony, one of the guys I have been emailing back and forth.  He recognized me from a photo, weird. 

Well, Tony was a backup of a backup of a backup.  His place was a little pricey and he already asked me to wire some money for deposit (the only person to do that, bit shady).  So I was already a little indifferent about Tony, just talking to him on the bus, I was completely indifferent.  Little creepy, but I was nice, I took his number and said I already made an appointment with someone else. 

"Magic Mountain" or "Tragic" Mountain?

Bus driver lets me know it’s my turn to get off.  I hop off and walk into a skate shop, they give me the heads up that the place I’m looking for is called “Magic Mountain” and it’s up on top of the hill behind the school.

Amazing view from the bottom, I walk up top and meet the girls. I get to know them a little bit, they’re all from different places, Australia, France, and Canada.  Really nice (fake), sweet girls (they’re succubus’), very goal oriented (heads up their own asses) and chill (if by chill, I think I meant, cold blooded ice queens of shame….by the way this is me editing my own opinion of them right before your very eyes as I’m reading this dribble of a paragraph).  I like this place (looked good on paper for sure), but I feel like I shouldn’t be too hasty in my decision (should have went with that feeling, always go with the gut).  So I decide that this is the best available but I should at least check out 1 more place.  The girls let me know I can keep my rucksack there while I look at the next place.  That’s probably when I knew that I was going to live there (stay away young Adam!...BLAST!…it’s too late, he’s so screwed).

You know it must have been bad to leave a place like this!

 They totally didn’t have to do that and they even offered me a ride in Broadbeach to my next destination.  The decision was pretty much made at that point, so I call the last girl I’m going to go see.  She says she’ll meet me in a hour or so.  I have some time to kill.  I start walking around and I go to the beach.  I see 2 very cute girls walking off and decide to ask them a silly question I already know the answer to. 

Tough to turn down

Works out well, we go have a drink, turns out they’re American as well, studying abroad.  After that I go to the last house, nothing too great here.  I showed up and people were yelling and arguing, it looked quite ghetto, it was close to the beach and the price was about right but the other place was just so much nicer.

I make up something about having more places to go see, but I know that’s not happening.  I call the girls in Miami and tell them that’s where I want to live (sigh), they’re cool with it and start cleaning out my room.

I decide to do a bit more exploring and work my way back to my new digs.  I stop off at a place called “Sushi Train”, because let’s face it, I like Sushi and I like trains.  This can’t be bad!

I get back to the apartment and find out that I just randomly chose the BEST sushi on the beach.  Which it totally was by the way (truly, it’s hit or miss, probably because of the train system…it could have been sitting there for 5 minutes or 5 hours…there’s no way to truly tell)!

               

I spent the rest of the evening chatting with the roomies and researching for jobs, that I planned on hunting for immediately.

Fantastic first day in OZ, hopefully more to come from here!

(Later on Matt would come to visit me and this should have been the first sign of trouble.  The girls didn't like that I allowed Matt to stay with us, or that we went out and partied each and every night he was there....in retrospect I should've realized then but it was too late.  You live.  You learn.  You live again.)

Only pic before Matt went back to America

Gold Coast

Gold Coast, view from where I lived

After I hopped off the plane and found a place to live, I thought the hard part was over.  That was really the only thing that I was worried about.  Matt had left me, so I was officially on my own in another new country.  I've never had trouble finding work, so the place to live I figured had to be the needle in the haystack.

I was so very wrong.

This doesn't happen all the time mind you, but occasionally I do have these lapses in judgement and things are not always as they seem.

I've known it for awhile but it is definitely true that if something seems to be too good to be true, it usually is.  You just have to wait for the ball to drop.  I realize now why I was so blinded when I first arrived but I couldn't see it then.  I was so happy to finally be in Australia.

The weather was finally warm and the sun was shinning, as opposed to the cold, rain, and wind I had just came from in New Zealand.  There were beautiful woman everywhere, my head was on a constant swivel and I hadn't even reached the sand yet.  These are the main factors that most likely led to me not having my guard up.

I couldn't find work to save my life.  I went out every single day for one month straight, I probably printed over 200 resumes.  I heard the same story everywhere I went, "You just missed the season", "We are looking for people, we'll call you for a trial", "Come back next week".  Blah blah blah.  They were all being complete turd burglars.  I know now that actually having a job on your resume FROM AUSTRALIA is a big deal, they want to see that you've worked in the country before and are reliable enough to stick around longer than a couple of weeks.

It's one thing to not be hiring at the moment, it's another thing to lie about it.  I absolutely hate that moment when I walk into a venue (especially if it's a bar) and the manager takes one look at me and decides immediately that they are "not hiring".  I've seen it 100 times, it's the "you don't have tits and I can't possibly sleep with you" glance.  It's ridiculous.  I've worked with plenty of girls in the past and seen them in the venues I applied at.  Not all mind you but most with more cleavage than actual bar experience.

Travellers Diet does have it's perks 

I kept plugging away however.  I had to find something.  This was the scariest part of my trip so far.  I had been there for 1 month with no work at all.  I was literally starving.  I reached a breaking point where I had $11 to my name!  I was eating ramen noodles for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.  I felt homeless in this really plush apartment that I couldn't fully enjoy because of the terrible harpies that I lived with.  They were terrible.

I now realize it was partly my fault though.  I should have never lived with them.  I was so worried about staying in Gold Coast, getting settled, starting to work and creating a life that I didn't see the big picture.  I see now that I should have just went straight to a hostel and lived there for a few weeks and looked for work and got a better feel for the place.  It would have saved me money and I would have realized after a few weeks that Gold Coast was not the place for me.  I didn't do that, so I got burned.

Lesson learned.

Surfers Paradise, QLD, Australia

Surfers Paradise is like a really nice Myrtle Beach, or, how they would wish a really nice Myrtle Beach would be.  With separate shopping centers in each suburb, a casino, a stadium, theme parks that actually work, and so on and so forth.  So it was Myrtle Beach on steroids basically.

I found work on the last day that I COULD pay rent.  Melbas at the Park is a bar/club, one of the more popular bars in Gold Coast.  I went in and had my interview, they said they were looking for 1 male bartender (I didn't see 1 male bartender the entire time I was there by the way, 3 male managers who doubled as the bartenders and a slew of dirty pillow maidens)...so I could either do that for what equated to about 10 hours a week, or I could do a less glamorous and more lucrative job for 40+ hours a week.

I chose the later because I was broke and needed whatever I could get.  I decided early on that I would work as much as I could for 2 reasons, 1) I had a friend coming to visit in December which I would need money for and 2) I was through with Gold Coast and it was time to move on, I just needed to money to do that.  It's not that GC is a bad place.  It's lovely, for about a week or 2.  Nice vacation spot, terrible place to live.  The people there I found very pretentious and pompous, not all but most.  It's all about who you know, what you have, where you come from...well, I'm a traveller and I don't know anyone, have 2 bags and very little possessions and come from America....so that's 0-3, I hate those types of people...not the beachy relaxed atmosphere I was hoping for.

Bike rides to work at 6am aren't too bad

So that's how I became the storeman of Melbas.  Basically I showed up at 6am every morning just as they club was letting out and restocked the entire venue, changed the kegs, moved the stock from one location to another, unloaded the truck, cleaned out the taps....all the absolute shit jobs you could think of to do in a bar, I was the guy doing them.

The only reasons I got by doing them for a month was they let me keep my iPod so I just jammed out the whole time and didn't think about it and the other reason was my boss, Steve. It was usually just me, him, and the guy counting the money from the night's take that early in the morning.  He helped me so much and I owe him a debt of gratitude.

Steve used to be a traveller.  It helps when you meet these people along the way.  Maria was a traveller as well, so was my boss at Creoles in New Zealand.  They understand what you're going through a little more.  A lot of people travel and usually they're willing to help others in the same position.

Steve was a great guy, rough exterior with a heart of gold.  One of those "you have to get to know him" type of guys because he doesn't just let anyone in.  He was from Australia, married  with 2 little girls, lovely wife (she offered me a place to stay when I was "getting kicked out" but you'll read that soon enough).

Another little tidbit about Steve is he was making over 6 figures at this job.  How was he making over 6 figures as a store man of a club?  I have no idea, he wouldn't tell me, he literally changed the subject every time.  Trust me, I probed him for this information everyday.  It raised my curiosity more during stories he would tell me, like about installing solar panels on his house...blah blah blah, white people problems, yak yak yak.  All I know is the place wouldn't function without him.

Titles aside, he is the boss of the place, apart from the owner.  Everyone answered to Steve.  When the other employees started filing in around 10-11am, if something happened, they would call him.  Oh, and he had a wicked glass eye!  From an accident when he was younger that he didn't get fixed properly.  He would be looking at you and it would just trail off, like this sentence....

I think he was a little sensitive about it.  So even as I started, I tried not to make it an issue because it really wasn't.  I just haven't had a lot of contact with glass eyes or the people they inhabit, so I didn't really know how to handle it at first.  I didn't know where to look for almost a week!

He gave me a break on my first day, telling me that I could go and have lunch.  I told him, "No, I'm okay, let's just do whatever we have to do next".  He said, "What? You don't like lunch or something?".  I replied, "No, but do you remember that talk in the interview we had, where I told you I NEEDED work as soon as possible, as much as possible?  Well, I was serious because I can't afford luxuries like lunch".

The point of this is Steve went up to his boss, the head man in charge of the club and got me an advance on my salary so I could eat.  He was that type of guy, I had been there less than a day.  He bought me lunch a lot on busy days after that.  I think he liked having me around because it meant that he didn't have to do all that work on his own and we got along really well.

I took that advance and went straight to the Pancake House....all you can eat $10, got myself a chocolate milkshake too, this is all at 10am by the way.  I don't think milkshakes were made for 10am but I made them turn that machine on.

Steve also provided me with a jacket for the cold and rainy mornings too (it was a promotional jacket from the club, but hey I'll take what I can get).  He thought I was crazy for riding my bike 5 miles there and 5 miles back everyday.  Sometimes he would throw my bike in the back and give me a ride if he were heading in that direction, to "give me a break" as he would say.  The man even got me some sunglasses for Christmas because mine had broken.  He was genuinely one of the nicest people I've met in Australia.

Again, I found this place was also traveller intolerant, as most places.  I found out that I was getting underpaid again. No holiday hours, no weekend rates, just a flat $18/hr.  Which isn't fair around Christmas time when all the Chest-icle cocktail dresses on display are talking about receiving $45/hr holiday wages.

I was told flat out by Steve that they can afford to do that because I'm a traveller and I'll take what I can get.  They do this to every traveller who works for them.  They don't care, they just restock travellers every week.  They hold an open call on Wednesdays whether they need staff or not.  They do it in case anyone quits or a traveller leaves abruptly (like I did; but to be fair, I told him what I was doing, he just didn't believe me).

Rugby 7's Tourney from my box

So that's what I did most of the week.  I also acquired the occasional temp shift with a company my room-mates worked for.  They would text or call and ask you if you wanted to work.  Places like the casino, or a stadium for concerts or sporting events.  So that was cool.  They called me a lot at first but when they found out I wasn't interested in cutting my hair, they stopped calling as much.

From where I was "working" at Foo Fighters

However, I did work at all three before I stopped     taking calls.  I did the casino one evening, worked   the Rugby Sevens Tournament one whole day, and got to work at/watch the Foo Fighters in concert.

All of these were for $20-30 a hour and none of them were very demanding.

The last place I worked for the temp agency was the casino and they told me the next time I showed up, I had better have my hair cut and a clean shaven face....needless to say I didn't show up "next time" or anytime after that.  Nobody tells me how to groom myself, not even my Mom (not that she would, she likes long-haired, scruffy Adam...but who doesn't?).




I've quit jobs for less than that, hell, I quit a job once to go see the movie "300".  I don't care, they're just jobs.  I work to live...I don't live to work.

May have moved a bit closer on my break!

Sometimes you find random topless photo shoots when you go exploring

That's what I did in Gold Coast, I looked for work and went to the beach.  When I found work, I did that and then went to the beach.  I borrowed a bike from a neighbor and rode it all around the suburbs of Gold Coast just exploring the territory.  Matt came to visit me the first week I was there before he flew back to the states and we went out then but other than that, I couldn't really afford to go out.

I had to save up money for Whitney to come visit.  I had anticipated already having a month's worth of money under my belt when she arrived and I didn't.  So I had to save a little extra, I spent the other times working out or in my room watching TV on my laptop to avoid the 3-headed monster in the living room.

These chicks were awful, 1 French, 1 Aussie, and 1 Canadian chick.  The Aussie girl, Tammy, was a "fake-nice"...you know the people who are really nice to your face but never tell the truth.  She lied a lot to my face, I don't like that.  The Canadian girl was just a complete airhead and nearly impossible to talk to.  She would get drunk and cry for no apparent reason, all while telling me the other girls hated her and she hated them.  The next day everything would be "okay".

Neither one of them were in comparison to the French chick though.  She was the absolute worst!

Nothing too common about that

I've since formed a different opinion of the French after meeting a lot of cool Frenchies in Sydney.  But before that it was a very low opinion I had of them.  This chick didn't help it either.  She was so stuck up her own ass it was amazing, we literally had NOTHING in common.  She had obviously never wanted for anything in her life, very pampered, all of them actually, so to see me with next to nothing and living a very commoners life was something they couldn't completely comprehend.

She would say things like, "Your noodles they smell so bad"(insert high-pitched annoying French accent).  To which I would reply, "And your French cheese smells good?".  All while thinking in my head, "Bitch, if it smells so bad, why don't you let me eat some of YOUR FOOD then, since I can't afford anything else".  Needless to say we didn't get along.

It didn't get too bad until the very end, I stayed there for 4 or 5 weeks.  The Canadian and the French girls moved out after 4 of those weeks (which they planned to do, not because of me) and I had to deal with the Tammy's new friend, Ursula...no that's not her real name but it is the name of the bad octopus chick from the "Little Mermaid" who she resembled and pretty much acted like, rolling around the apartment as if she owned the place.  The other chick was Aussie too but she was actually really nice and I liked her a lot.

I told them from the very beginning that Whitney was coming in mid-December and she'd be there for 1 month.  I said this before I moved in to make sure they were okay with that and that there wouldn't be any problems.

They were bad enough, that I CHOSE to leave this

They were fine with it at first, 2 weeks later it was, "well, she can stay but you have to pay extra".

Okay, fair enough, she is using the utilities and everything so that's reasonable.

2 weeks after that it was, "She can stay for 1 week, but you guys need to go travelling for the other 3 and pay extra".  So if you're doing the math at home, that's the last week I was there.  They told me this 3 days before she flew in.

So to summarize Whitney was flying in from Texas to see me for not only Christmas, but her birthday, my birthday, as well as New Years and not only do I not have a lot of money to go do stuff with her, now I don't even have a place for us to stay.  Great.

I may have jumped ahead of myself a little bit here.  But I basically told Ursula and the ugly step sisters to "F*%$ off" and I wasn't going to pay rent if they MADE us travel around.  The words "over-privileged c***" may or may not have been utilized.

I moved out the day after that argument went down.  I went to look out for hostels and trying desperately to scrape something together before Whitney came.  The other girl who was nice that moved in told me of these guys living in Miami, down the road.  They just moved into a 5 bedroom place and needed roommates.  She actually called them for me and told them the whole story.  They said Whitney and I could both stay there for a few weeks or until I got back on my feet.

The Miami crew

I was a little hesitant at first but it turned out to be okay.  Plus I didn't really have a choice. Petey and Dallas were really cool guys.  Petey was an electrician and Dallas...well, I don't think Dallas actually works.  He used to be a pro-surfer and told me he was a brick-layer, but always "had the day off"...all I ever saw him do was smoke weed, drink and pop pills..and this was continuous, whether it was at 5am, 10am or 10pm...so there's that.

Nice Summary of our time together

They were a lot of fun, if you don't have to be up at 6am everyday like I did.  The days I had off, we would all hang out and get drunk but these guys went on major benders.  Days at a time like they were at a festival with hippies or something.  Over New Years they went hard for 3 or 4 days.  Straight.  I don't know how they did it.  I thought I knew how to party...but these guys never stopped the party.

It was pretty remarkable.  Whitney came and everything was fine for the most part.  I worked, while she...well, I don't really know what the hell she did while I was at work all day.  I'd get off around 3-4pm most days and we'd go hang out after that.  It was a very exhausting time in my life with continuous stress but something that I believe made me a lot stronger.

It solidified a faith that I already had but I believe everything happens for a reason and I try to view the positive side of things.  Things could have went a lot different, a lot worse than they did and they looked really bad there for awhile but I know someone up there is looking out for me always...even if he does have a twisted sense of humor.

(I left these photos down here at the bottom so you could see a few of the bars that I had to stock EVERYDAY...no that's not the same photo, it's three continuous shots because that's how large it was across, you can't see the depth so even these don't give it justice...the place was massive.)

World Cup Finale

The world cup finale in Auckland was quite a sight to be seen.  The All Blacks were heavily favorited at the beginning of the tournament but from what I could tell, they were the choke artists of the event.  I don't follow rugby at all but apparently in the past they were in the same position several times before and could not win when it mattered most.

It was eerie.  People wouldn't even talk about them.  The World Cup is being played in their backyard basically and every Kiwi is terrified to mention it with fear that they will bestow some cursed jinx on their beloved All Blacks.  They were crushing teams by more than 40 points or more and everyone just kept acting like it wasn't a big deal and would talk about the next match like it was a long shot for them to win.  It was endearing at first...it became ridiculous.  They were clearly the best team, by far.

I had no intentions of going into the city for this game.  Matt had bought himself a ticket for an exorbitant amount of money that I would never pay unless the Panthers were in the Super Bowl.  He was quite persistent, he promised me riots if they lost...riots if they won.

I feel like I have a better grasp of the Kiwi-nation than Matt did and he was there 3 times longer than I had been.  Kiwi's aren't going to riot...they barely leave the house when it's raining...let's be serious here.  I'm always down for a good riot though even it is fictional, so I chose to go with him.

Here's a funny link to a short reaction from the crowd the moment they won.  
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pGWZKaynls4

Riot my ass.

My best Axel Rose impression

We hoped on the bus and made a quick friend.  This is the only picture I have from this day.  I forgot to take pictures (wonder why...).  He drank with us all the way to Auckland, which is a good 30-40 minute bus ride.  We chatted up some ladies on the way just because we were boozed and they were within our American voice range.  That is, until we found out they were 17....uh, yeah....soooo....A) you shouldn't be wearing that...B) i'm not talking to anything else in a skirt today, maybe ever, I'm shattered by this.

Matt had a special ticket that allowed him access to a lunch of some sort at the stadium.  We tried to sneak me in but to no avail.  The consolation prize, I told him I'd hang out in the park and drink (not too shabby)...while he went inside and collected us delicious sandwiches (which I assumed would be inside).

Pretty sweet deal and yes, there were sandwiches inside!  I continuously hunted around the stadium for a means of entry, I went everywhere but could not find another way inside.  I expected Matt to be gone a lot longer but he came back out about 10 minutes after I sat down in the park and said the inside was "like a funeral".  Lots of old people, sombre music, not the party he was originally expecting.  I was thinking the whole time "what did you expect?", who do you think pays money for private lunches on game days?  It damn sure isn't 20 year old co-eds.

We sat down in the park and began eating our newly acquired sandwiches.  Some people that lived nearby were having a party/day of drinking too.  They came down to chat with us for a bit and invited us back to their place for more drinking.  This is why I love to travel, these random occurrences with random people.

I knew when I got on that bus to Auckland that I wasn't going to the game.  I knew I'd have to find a pub or some new people to hang out with when Matt went inside.  It's that type of attitude you need to have when you randomly venture into an unknown city with a friend who will be leaving you in a matter of hours.  I knew it had to be done, so by God...I got it done!

We hung out with our new crew for awhile that afternoon.  No real concept of time can be kept with such debauchery.  There was probably 10-12 of us.  They were all friends with each other and dressed in some ridiculous cow costumes (sound familiar?).  Matt and I basically tagged along with them until it was time for him to go to the game.

One of the guys invited me to the pub where his girlfriend worked at, but they left way too soon.  I wasn't ready to leave at that point so I decided to stay and wait for the next opportunity to present itself.  Later on when Matt was leaving, the night did present a nice turn.

The guys and girls decided that we would all head down to the docks where they had the fan zone.  We probably left the apartment with 15 people, when we arrived at the pavilion we were down to about 6.  For various reasons, bathroom breaks, people stopping for phone calls, all of these causalities were swallowed up by the hoard of people making their way to the jumbotron at this fan zone.

 It was mobbed with people all the way down and apparently we needed tickets to get in.  Which of course, were all sold out by this point.   It's funny travelling around with a group of like-minded people you don't know because they can still surprise you.  One of the guys said, "Well, looks like we're going to have to hop that fence?"...some of the girls were not a fan of this idea.  Silly girls, wearing skirts...you should have known what you were up against here, not to mention the crew you were running around with.  I think girls should make some sort of a list based on there whereabouts, actions, and company for that day and then plan accordingly...don't just try to look cute all the time for the sake of looking cute.

Me? Oh yeah, let's hop that fence!

After a strategic game of "wait until the guard turns his head", we all make it inside.  Well, everyone except for Kareena (didn't want to hop the fence, skirt) and some other guy (who was happy Kareena didn't hop that fence, other intentions than watching a rugby match...i.e. Kareena).  They trotted off somewhere that I was not in the capacity to care for at that time.  To be fair, can't really blame the guy for trying, she was/is quite hot.

(Consider the next couple of paragraphs a sidebar story, but I don't know how to properly create said side bar story, so you'll have to pretend)

(Funny story about that is I did actually hear what happened to them from Kareena herself because out of all the places in the world, she showed up at one of the Halloween parties I went to!  Craziness.  I was sure we were destined to be together forever at that point (joke), but Matt was convinced that she was a vampire, like, an actual vampire.  Due to her semi-pale appearance, ability to appear out of nowhere, dark red/black hair, lusty stare and just her genuine "I will eat your soul and enjoy it" smiling demeanour.  


That led to this exchange at the party:


Matt: "Dude, don't go over there she's a vampire".
Me: "No she's not, she's dressed like a cute little bee".
Matt: "I don't care bro, she's a vampire, she followed us here, she has your scent and she's going to bite your neck and turn you into a creature of the night".
Me: "I'd let her bite me, she can totally turn me into a creature tonight! No worries man, she bites me, then I turn you into a vampire....we're all happy".
Matt: "Adam, I like the sun, I don't want to be a vampire.  Stay away from her".
Me:  (ignoring his plea....walking over to Kareena)


Completely unnatural event.  Out of all the places, there she was at my party.  Love it. Come to think about it though, she did hang out in the darkest corners of the room a lot...and I am up writing this really late, hmmmm.....my neck hurts....)


I stayed there and watched the entire match.  It was a lot of fun, they had beer vendors and food so I was happy.  It doesn't take a whole lot.  The All Blacks finally pulled it off in the end.  The crowd went nuts, sort of.  Where I was, they were pretty rowdy, but where I was located was the younger "we just hopped the fence and double fisted beers for 2 hours" crowd...obviously from the video above the entire crowd didn't go wild like that but it was still a sight to be seen with that amount of people.

We decided it was about time to make our way back to the city, we had lost everyone else and my phone was about to die.  I say we, and yet have no recollection of the names of the guys I was with.  I sent out one text to Matt to tell him a general area of where I would be so we could grab a bus back home.  I half expected to never see him again.

There was what seemed like an endless stream of light in the sky from all the fireworks being set off.  Some of the guys we were with were quite drunk and decided it would be a good idea to ignore the baracade set in front of us and make a run for it back to the city.  Made sense to them because it was closer than walking all the way around.  I chose not to go with them because I don't particularly want to find out what jail is like in a country I'm not a resident of.  No, I don't care which country either.  The other guy had a previous criminal history that he did not want to bring back up.  I have no idea if those guys made it or not.

We walked back to the main city, the long way around the harbour.  People were everywhere, dancing, hugging, singing, it was pandemonium.  Not quite the riot I had hoped for, but it was a good time none the less.  The guy I was with kept telling me he knew the bouncers at this one bar and that he could get us in.  De-nied.

Then he knew of another place that we could....De-nied.  I was beginning to think this guy was full of it, he may have been.  We ran into his friends out in front of a corridor of bars.  They were telling us that pretty much every place was at capacity.  We were better off staying outside and drinking there.

We managed to do that for quite awhile without interruption from police and I ended up running back into Matt in the middle of the street where hundreds of thousands of people were swarming.  I literally walked down one of the main streets and we bumped right into each other.  It was wild.

It's funny how things work out sometimes.  While they are working out in this life however, I hope to continue to take full advantage but some things like that you just can't plan.  So I'll just continue to write about them fondly instead.

Working in NZ

I had run out of money before we even made it to Wanaka on the road trip.  I still had money, but the bank I joined forgot to send me a card before I left.  I say forgot, because I returned and found no card waiting for me.  This should have been my first hint at how businesses operate in New Zealand.  I don't want to say "lazy" because that sounds harsh.  Their culture isn't designed around work like America, so no one really wants to do it.

It's nice if you are there working because you don't necessarily have to work "hard".  It's unfortunate because much like Australia, it's IMPOSSIBLE to ever get anything done, i.e. go to the bank, the post office, or any other important errands on a regular basis.  Every other week there is a holiday, and if the holiday is on a weekend, they just push it to a day of the week.  For instance, "New Years Day" was on a Saturday this year.  So New Zealand and Australia both, had an "extra" holiday on Monday, also known as "New Years Day".  Go figure, again, very good if you are working on one of these holidays because they pay you time and a half, not good if you're trying to get your affairs in order.

I did 2 things when I got back.  I set up a cell phone so that potential employers could call me and I set up a bank account.  Afterwards, I set out to find work immediately.  The countdown had begun.  My intentions were never to stay in New Zealand, so my proverbial eye was on the prize.  The goal was to make enough money to support myself in Australia from the moment I arrived.  So the thought process was, I've had my fun here in NZ so now I'll work and make as much money as I can to start my adventure in Australia.

Wouldn't have made it without her

I printed out over 30 CV's (which is what they call resumes) and hit the town.  I walked all over, applying to every place I could think of.  Even applying to some places where I had no business being, like lady shoe apparel and the library.  Asking everyone in sight, even places I knew weren't hiring, in hopes that someone would throw me a bone.  It seemed like no one was hiring at all.  "You just missed the season", I'd hear, which is complete bullshit because I'd later find out that New Zealand and Australia alike would rather lie to you then actually tell you their not hiring.  It's got to be something about telling people bad news.  No one likes to tell people something they don't want to hear.  So instead of helping you find a place that is hiring, or allowing you to save a resume, they just tell you "We'll call you" or "Leave us your resume".  I literally would high five people who were honest with me.  "Sorry, we're not hiring"...."Thank you!", I'd exclaim, "high fives are in order, you people are awesome".  

I did end up finding work, 3 jobs to be exact, 2 with a little help and one completely on my own.  One was at the cafe with Maria (my surrogate Tongan mother), the same one that Matt worked at.  I'd work there 3 or 4 mornings a week,  with under the table wages.  It wasn't even work really.  She is such a sweet lady, she basically paid me to hang out with her all day.  I did the dishes, handled the cash register, served customers and cleaned, none of which are incredibly taxing, in fact just listing my responsibilities now makes it seem more like a job than it actually was.  She would always feed me and we would do the word puzzles and brainteasers in the paper together every afternoon.  I think she just enjoyed the company because she didn't really need me there most days.

Matt, Maria and I outside the "Happy Kiwi"

Matt worked at 2 cafes, the "Happy Kiwi" with Maria.  Where he woke up at 5am everyday to do the baking, the other cafe named "Olivers" at night.  The other cafe was beside a pizzeria, Matt put in a good word to one of the owners for me.  I lied and told the owner that I would be staying in New Zealand indefinitely.  I felt bad about the lie at first, but after working there for a little bit, I didn't feel bad anymore.  It was my least favorite job, the lady was a complete "insert derogatory slang for a larger woman who can't help but be fake nice to everyone she meets".  

Travelers have to be careful when they obtain a new job.  A lot of places choose not to treat the traveller properly or pay them correctly.  It reminds me a lot of how Americans treat the illegal Mexicans in some ways.  It's sad but you're travelling and most likely NEED the money, so you take what you can get.  The "lady" or "harpie" at the pizzeria promised me $19/hr for 5-6 days a week at the start.  I started working immediately and would do whatever they asked, including staying extra and working late.  When it came time to get my pay check, I realized that it looked a little off...by a little, I mean a few hundred dollars.  

She justified this injustice by saying that she herself was taking out "what the taxes would be".  So that when she put me on the books later, I could claim all those taxes as well.  She actually convinced herself she was doing me a favor.  Um, in America my dear...we call that skimming off the top...and it's bullshit.  You can't tell someone you're going to "pay them under the table" and then take your own taxes out.  This obviously didn't sit well with me from the beginning.  However, I wanted to work as much as possible and I generally liked the other employees at the pizza place, so I basically told her that wasn't our agreement and if she wanted me to continue working there, she could either pay me the wage she promised or I wasn't going to work there as much. 

 It wasn't a huge deal, I just let her know that her and her business were no longer a major priority for me.  She decided she'd rather keep paying me her own "taxed" wages so I put my concentration on my next and favorite job.

"Creoles" was the bar job I obtained in Orewa on my own.  There was only a few bars in the town and it was the karaoke bar (obviously not a first choice), but all the money was made primarily from the poker machines.  As I would later learn that is how most bars make their money.  I have learned from my mistakes though, I will NEVER work in a karaoke bar again unless I absolutely MUST.  The amount of people who sing in public, that SHOULD NEVER SING IN PUBLIC is atrociously high.  This has to be stopped, I'm thinking of forming a group about this.  Signs will be printed, protests will be formed, voices will be lost, I promise this.

The manager told me that I would need a certificate to become a manager at the interview.  I like this guy and didn't want to lie to him so I told him the truth, and that was that I would only be there for a few months.  He needed help for the Rugby World Cup which lasted about as long as I would be lasting in the country.  We agreed that I would work for $120 a night, whenever they needed me, which equated to mainly weekends.

Not just for Monopoly anymore!

I loved this job.  We were rarely that busy, which in America would translate into an 8-hour shift where I'd make roughly $20-50.  Hardly worth it.  Here in New Zealand, they were paying me $15 untaxed dollars a hour and some nights I may serve 10 drinks total, plus other tips.  Brilliant!

They wanted me because I was American and "knew what customer service was about".  I try to play that particular attribute up as much as I can during the interview process.  I also try to hide the fact that I hate drunk people, but I digress (yes, ironic twist that someone who gets drunk as me hates other drunk people, when he's not drinking).

While I was working, I usually looked for things to do to cope with the boredom, things like helping out the kitchen and cleaning, so I'm pretty sure they loved me working there as well.  It seemed to them that I was going out of my way, but to be fair, I felt like I should do more work because they were paying me silly wages to do what I do.  On several occassions I was told by one of the employees, "You don't have to do that, it's not part of the job".  Which I thought was fantastic because all the other jobs I've had it seems like they can't find enough stuff that's "a part of the job", aka "stuff they don't want to do themselves".

Everyone there was really nice and helpful.  As I've written before that's who I spent a lot of my leasure time with.  I learned a lot from them about bar tending in another country because while it is the same profession there are subtle differences in the way they like things and how things are done.

I worked these 3 jobs 5 days a week, with Wednesdays and Sundays off.  Sounds impossible and it wasn't always easy but it was a great schedule.  Monday and Tuesday mornings at Marias; Monday, Tuesday, Thursday nights at the pizza place; Friday, Saturday and sometimes Sunday nights at the bar.  I rode my bike to the pizzeria and bar which was about 22-24km total, so roughly 4 miles there and 4 miles back.  The ride down was always fun because there was an incredibly large hill that I'd fly down and pass cars, literally pass them.  The ride back, not so much fun.  After a long shift the last thing you want to do is ride up a large hill.  I was able to walk to Maria's in under 5 minutes.

You know...just a few!

I managed to save a few thousands dollars this way.  By working in the cafe and pizzeria I managed to cut down buying groceries because I could make my own food and take extra home for future meals.  Working at the bar helped cut down on my drinking tabs because I was usually working on the weekends when everyone went out and plus we would always have a few after shifts and pitch in for some cheap wine on the way to Apple's house.





All I really had to pay for was rent.  So making trips to the bank was always fun.  They were always so curious about me.  Amazed that I had been in the country for only a few weeks and to already have 3 jobs and be making so many deposits.  They said they would use me as an example for the hard pressed people (lazy) who would come in and say they couldn't find work.






They also took pictures with me because they thought I looked like Taylor Hawkins, the drummer from the Foo Fighters.  The manager actually thought I WAS the drummer from the Foo Fighters, I'm not sure how she got so confused about my situation.  

Apparently, I look/looked like this guy

I'll let you be the judge

All I know is that one day while I was making a deposit she came over to me and took a picture of me with her cell phone.  She told me she was sending it to her daughter and couldn't believe she met me.  She asked me what I was doing in Orewa and where the next tour stop was.  Keep in mind this was NOT the first time she'd met me, nor the first time I was in the bank, far from it.  It was weird but I like these sorts of shenanigans so I played it up for her.  Telling her how well the tour was going and of course, the band groupies, naturally.

It was all in good fun, but that's how I survived country number 1 on my own.  It was scary at first but I just buckled down...because I had to.  It's different when you NEED to do something as opposed to just WANTING to do something.

I'm very thankful that I have that ability to adapt and succeed when that "necessity obstacle" factors in.  If I wasn't able to, I know I wouldn't/couldn't be able to travel this way.

Everyday Life in NZ & Halloween

My life in NZ was quite simple.  As I imagine most lives are there.  They have a very laid back culture, very care free.  I spent most of my time working and when I wasn't working, I was most likely drinking with some people I worked with at the bar.  I came over to hang out thinking that I would be hanging out with Matt most of the time but once I got into my routine, I barely saw him at all.

He went to bed really early most days because of work and woke up at "silly o'clock" every morning.  So I shared a room with him for all of a week when we got back from our trip and I moved into the basement.  It took us one afternoon to clean it all out and I was able to make a nice set up with what I had...which was a bed, a couch, a shelf and some weights.  None of which were actually "mine" but hand me downs and things we found.

Matt was roomming with 2 Scottish people, they both had "real jobs" and I don't think truly understood what Matt and I were doing with our lives.  That's okay I guess because I never truly understood what they were saying most of the time.  My ears became more adept to their "mother tongue", the longer I lived there...well, it did with the guy, Jamie...the girl, to be fair, I just smiled and nodded a lot.  Which I feel like I have perfected the art of the "smile and nod" with the female gender, it gets me out of most uncomfortable conversations and unpleasantness.

Always a little tricky when the lady asks a question that awaits an answer...but how often does that ever happen!?

They were really nice though and didn't have to let me live there.  Matt kind of just threw me at them because well, I kind of just threw myself across the pond to New Zealand.  So I spent most of my time at the house trying to keep quite and not step on anyone's toes...which I feel like I did a pretty good job of for the most part.

It helped living in the basement I think.  They were all early to bed, early to rise types and depending on what job I worked I would get home anytime between 12-2:30am.  The only negative part of living in the basement, was the dreaded walk to and from the shower.  Oh, sweet baby jesus...so cold.

Matt convinced me to come over to New Zealand with talk of a glorious summer!  "It's warm here, the seasons are backwards, so it's summer now" he told me.  Have I mentioned that Matt is a liar?  Have I mentioned that Matt is an asshole?  I should probably mention those two things.

It was still winter when I arrived, Matt would tell you it was the start of spring...but you, the reader, should refer to the previous paragraph.  I went from sleeping naked in the states (cause that's what I do and I know you wanted to hear that) to sleeping completely clothed in New Zealand.  I'm talking socks, full pants, shirt, sweatshirt, beanie hat, with a sheet, a blanket and a sleeping bag.  It was not warm at all.

New Zealand houses have no insulation and I was living in a basement, you do the math.

I was still very much jet lagged, so I had odd sleeping patterns.  Not that I've ever had normal sleeping patterns but I generally like to be asleep at 5am if I'm not doing something else...more...productive.

Jamie gave me a website that he used to watch his soccer games from Scotland.  So I would try to stream in the Carolina Panther football games before work.  Monday morning at 5am, roughly is around Sunday, 1pm in the states.

It was always a little weird coming home from work and catching a quarter of "Monday Night Football", in the middle of the afternoon during my break between jobs.  They showed the big games on TV, which also surprised me.  The internet streaming however was like pulling teeth.  American football is NOT something you want to be streaming from a great distance, there would be a pause every few seconds and usually something big would happen and it would skip right to a commercial.  I'm a diehard though and this was my fix, all I had really.  New Zealand has not figured out the wonders of the internet yet.  It's 1984 over there...and they like it.

Me, Apple and her friend

On my days off and when I worked at the bar, I would go and have drinks with some of the people I worked with at Creoles.  They were a lot of fun to hang out with.  We would usually start out at the bar and then head over to Apple's house which was walking distance down the street.  They got me into drinking wine, which I am usually not a fan of.  I spent a lot of time with them, they took me in as one of their own and I appreciated that.

When Matt and I would hang out, we would usually go and find his co-worker Ceasar and his roommate Skip.  That didn't happen nearly as often, but it was always a good time when it did.  That was basically my whole time over in a nutshell.  Lots of good times but a lot of the same activities.  I would work, workout in between jobs, and drink with my new friends.  That was what I did, not too far of a stretch from what I usually did in America.

I knew my role and what the future held for me.  The key was discipline, working and having the cheapest fun available.  The only disheartening thing was the horror stories I had heard about Kiwi Halloween.  I came to New Zealand at the beginning of September went on a road trip for a few weeks and then it began to approach the time of All Hallows Eve.  Which coincidentally happens to be my favorite holiday.

Yay Halloween!

Everyone I talked to at my jobs basically told me that Halloween was for little kids and that the Kiwi's really didn't celebrate it like we do in the states.  Which is an understatement because the U.S. absolutely rocks out all over for Halloween!  It's the only time of the year I know where girls dress in scandolously clad outfits and receive not only compliments, but adoration from other females.

On October 31st in the states, a girl would look at another girl in a cop outfit with her butt/boobs hanging out, walk up to her and say, "Awww you look so cute, where did you get your outfit?".

On November 5th, those same 2 girls would have no interaction what so ever and it would be, "Look at that tramp in those shorts, what a slut!".

What I'm trying to say here is it's a MARVELLOUS time of the year!  It shouldn't be relegated to one day a year, I could not believe my ears.

My only hope they said, was to go to Auckland and try to find a rave of some sort.  This was no help, but from what I understood it was my only hope and I planned on doing that at all cost!

Halloween!!!  IT'S WHAT I DO!

Luckily for me, I didn't have to venture out alone on Halloween, Matt got off of work and I requested off because I dress up and get drunk that week/weekend...every year...it's my other birthday, whether people are with me or not.

I like to form my own costume's as well.  I hate showing up to a party where there's the same "Austin Powers" or "Scooby-Doo" costume everywhere.  Get creative people!  My plan all along was to go as "Thor", my friend Lauren in Texas suggested that to me and it stuck.  Whatever my hair looks like around that time, I generally try to morph into whatever character I portray.  When you want to look like Vanilla Ice, you have to do these things...like shave weird lines in your actual hair:

However, my money was low and my resources were even lower.  So "Thor" became a pipe dream (FOR THIS YEAR IN 2012!!!).  So I had to go with what was available.  I went all through the town looking for anything that I could construct into some sort of costume.  The town was barren.  They told me they didn't celebrate Halloween but this was ridiculous.

"Happy-Slap" was born

Luckily, our buddy Cesar had a friend with a cow "costume" which he planned on using.  Matt and I convinced him to use his clown wig and buy some accessories to be a clown, like a horn and a stick of gum that shocked you.  Cesar is quite the clown on his own and he had the perfect outfit...it was just a better fit...and well, I needed to be something.

Matt decided he was going to do his usual "be as naked as possible, no matter how cold it is" outfit dynamic....last year's "Caveman" turned into this years "Greek God"...next year, he'll probably be a "Spartan" or something less clothed...the kid just likes to rock banana hammocks and loin cloths...what can I say?

After a bit of creative genius on my part I decided that the best thing for me to do was to take this cow "costume" (costume is in quotations because you can clearly see in the picture below that this was a woman's pajama onesy) and turn it into the proudest, powerful, and most obnoxious cow I could imagine....that's how I became AMERICOW!

AMERICOW by night!!!

Mild mannered, civilian cow by day...

I don't think I have to tell you that this was a BIG HIT.  I walked into the party where everyone knew who I was right away.  Well, they didn't really know who I was so much as they saw the American flag on my back and started screaming "Team America"'s theme song at me every 10 minutes, "Americaaaaa....FUCK YEAH!".  Either way, that made me happy.  

It was a Halloween/birthday party, so I'm not exactly letting New Zealand off the hook for good Halloween parties just yet because I'm not so sure the party would have been as great if it weren't for the birthday aspect of it.  However, everyone participated and dressed up, so it was all in good fun.  

Matt and I explained the American "red-cup" style Halloween parties we used to throw back in college and tried to implement some of the games at this party, i.e., flip-cup, beer-pong, etc.  They turned out well, everyone was a fan from what I could tell.  

Shortly after many precarious drinking games, I lose sight of my buddy Matthew.  I found out he had scampered down to the beach with a Mario Brother.  Mario to be exact....I had no interest in the Luigi part of the equation from earlier in the night...all I'll say is, "Luigi" should have been the "Mario" in their duo, if you catch my drift...and if you don't...well then you didn't play Super Mario Brothers.

I can't divulge too much information on that situation, a bit of a bro code of conduct.  However, it must be said that her Mario moustache was kept on through any and most all proceedings (sorry buddy...but that's friggin' funny!).

I had a few awesomely lame quips with the ladies myself that night, of that I'm sure.  I know they must have been lame because I went home alone.  It's a tough transition but there comes a point in the night when I tend to drink myself into a stupor where I lose the ability to control what comes out of my mouth.  Or at least, I lose the ability to care about the ramifications.  Whatever I'm thinking, I say, easy and simple.  

Not to toot my own horn (toot toot!) but this works out in my favor more than you would think for the amount of sewage that I can put on display between the hours of 12-5am (mainly because "more than you would think" should equal 0). Usually to my surprise because most of the time I'm obviously not trying to impress the anyone, just attempting to amuse myself....this was one of those nights, not of the successful nature however.  

The next night, a bit more of the same.  We pre-game at the place Cesar was housesitting, we invited some friends over and played drinking games.  The second night we were supposedly heading to the "big party".  A zombie party being held at some sort of club.  

We arrive and it's absolutely mobbed with people.  All covered in blood.  Apparently they had created some sort of blood in a tank that people could just throw, dip, drip and spit on whoever came in.  It was carnage really.  I lose my group for about 15 minutes, when I find them, they're all covered in this awful sticky red substance. 

I wish I had a picture from this party to demonstrate my point.  It's a zombie party, so no matter what your costume, you're covered in blood.  You could be a doctor, lawyer, spice girl, didn't matter, you were "zombified" from the moment you walked in.  

The reason I wish I had a picture is because miraculously, I don't get a drop on me the whole night!  One bright, white, cuddly cow costume with an American flag draped on my back.  I was expecting to be hung out to dry.  I'm the cutest thing there, you would be able to spot me from a helicopter in that crowd of red.  

I enjoyed both parties, the first party a little more because the people were a bit friendlier, the booze was free, and I got to make fun of Matt for almost hooking up with an almost dude (a girl with a moustache is kind of a dude right?).  

In retrospect, I probably would have spent more time going to the city and pubs around Auckland if I had not been so broke and trying to save money, but I enjoyed my time in New Zealand mainly because of all the awesome people I met.  I think that's what it's all about.  I wouldn't change it either.  

Halloween 2011 was also well spent, another successful year in the books.  Matt and I calculated that we have actually spent the past 6 Halloweens together.  Not sure we'll be able to make it to 10 since we split ways, but it's always a good time....or at the least a good laugh or 2.

The bush is saving your eyes right now, I assure you

Maybe you didn't need to know that it was a "woman's onesy"....