Monday, May 28, 2012

Until I got to NZ

It is truly bizarre how often it is that I think I never _______ until I got to New Zealand.  For instance food: I had never had marmite, fejoas, or pavlova until I got to NZ, and that's totally reasonable as they are NZ food. The strange ones are that I never like green beans, tomatoes, mustard, avacado... the list is a bit strange and growing and now I not only eat them, but enjoy them regularly.
But the one that is really chaffing me is that I never got lost before I got to New Zealand and now I seem to be more lost than not. Strangely and most thankfully, this feeling of displacement only is challenging with my geographical situation and I actually feel more comfortable and secure with my personal life, emotions, ect.
Seriously, though, I used to pride myself not only on being able to adventure out and about with directional ease, but even was able to give others directions. I know this is in large part to having spent so much time in the places I had been, but come on! I have been here four months and literally just last week successfully found the fast way home from the highway (you know the one I take a couple times a week!).
A friend and I went to back to the Waitakare Ranges last weekend and again ended up not only displaced but on the complete wrong side of the trail (on a highway in fact) with little to no effort on our part - it was shocking and beyond irritating.  I now am someone who gets lost... a lot. Seeing as this doesn't seem to being changing or even getting much better (like missing the bus), then I am actively practicing having a better, more comedic look at myself and my surroundings each time they become altered in unforeseeable and unidentifiable ways.
Anyways, we had a pretty good time, played in some mud, concluded we needed hiking boots, and really did have a good time. We are going back to the same trail this weekend, with our new boots, to try it again.
Saturday night I babysat and Sunday I went to Newmarket for some shopping and a movie.
I am always shocked at how much I look forward to the weekends, how little I seem to get accomplished - though I feel busy, and how fast they go. I know this is a common occurrence for everyone I know, but I have never felt it so strongly while at the same time not really being stressed or worried about it. I am trying to focus on always getting the most out of my time, even or maybe especially if that is just watching a movie while babysitting. If I get the most of my time, whatever that is, then it would seem to make sense that everything will get done at exactly the right time and pace.

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