Temporary Kiwis - Maloneys in NZ

MDVL 270G - Going Medieval Final

2010-03-04T19:54:00.001-08:00

MDVL 270G - Going Medieval Final
Originally uploaded by kara_maloney

This is the class I'm teaching this summer through Binghamton, so if anyone wants to enroll, pass the word on!

We can has flagpole?

2009-05-27T10:21:00.000-07:00

Yes, we can.

Happy (post) Memorial Day.

Passing news through the Facebook chain

2009-05-17T21:19:00.000-07:00

Seriously, Facebook is the best thing to happen when there are things like earthquakes. Within 10 seconds, probably 5 friends in various places across SoCal posted about it, and I'm still getting updates. Kinda cool to know how widespread this was, whose phone is out, who's hearing sirens. So far, no one's lost anything. I think we all just rode out the rolling. But still. There are times when I love Facebook. :)

Yes, we live in California. Yes, we're all used to it. But still, when the ground shakes beneath your feet for what seems like minutes, it's kinda hard to ignore, even if it is just a 'little' one. We're all blase about anything under a 6, but we still get rattled. I think it's a point of pride for us, standing in defiance one more day before the Big One.

I <3 penguins

2009-05-15T16:41:00.000-07:00

Kelly Tarlton's in Auckland celebrated the Penguathalon -- no rules, just good, clean penguin fun. Wish we could've been there. :)

Culling the Herd, aka How We Outgrow Books

2009-04-27T19:44:00.000-07:00

I’m slowly but surely packing books and culling those that are not making the cross-country trek via relocube. At current count, I have something like 35 boxes of books, and that includes several shelves worth of Old and Middle English texts and all of my Arthurian lit. Have I mentioned that my true love is Arthurian lit? The majority of those books, though, are fiction and the majority of fiction are YA and kids books. Why? Many of them are old friends, and it’s hard to break that habit. Except when you’re moving across country and you realize that you’re really just not as close to those old friends as you were.

As a kid, I read indiscriminately. There was the one half of my brain that devoured every sf/fantasy novel I could get a hold of, starting with the big world-builders and working my way through. Tolkien, Bradley, McCaffrey, L’Engle, LeGuin, Norton (Andre, not the Lit anthologies), Beagle: these were the grand masters of my childhood, followed by the more recent ‘upstarts’ in terms of Robin McKinley, Patricia McKillip, Pamela Dean, Diane Duane, Tamora Pierce, Patricia C Wrede, Sherwood Smith… Jr. and High school were about swallowing whole new worlds as fast as I could find them. I examined world-building from every angle and accessed every detail, adding each to my repertoire to await the day that I built my own world. Add to that a mix of LM Montgomery, Laura Ingalls Wilder, Louisa May Alcott and Francis Hodgeson Burnett, and you have a really stodgy, clunky bit of writing that I did as a kid. Thank god I outgrew that — to an extent.

But mixed with those ‘classics’ per se were the trashier, less ‘highfalutin’ and highbrow “There’s a Boy in the Girls Bathroom” style books. Tween melodrama, ghost stories, one last sob stories and romance — I read every single one. I read my way through Naylor’s Alice books and collected Babysitter’s Club like they were going out of style. And I’ve finally realized that I can’t justify the shelf space for all these books anymore. They’re just as valid old friends as Montgomery and McCaffrey and McKinley, but we’re not kindred spirits anymore. We might talk once every year or so, but we don’t friend each other on Facebook. And we certainly don’t email or call.

So I culled. I culled books out of print for forty years, half of Scholastic’s Young Readers line and anything that I hadn’t picked up in five years or more. I culled stacks that the niecelings (the oldest is nine) are still too young for, and would they even want to read them, being books of the eighties and themselves children of the 21st century? I’ll donate them to my local library, to my local school teacher friends, in hopes of inspiring another kid the way I was inspired and temporarily swept away. It’s hard, sometimes, admitting that you’ve grown out of something.

I think that’s why I prefer the current trend of YA novels, which seem so much smarter and edgier and more straddling that strange place between childhood and adulthood that teens seem to reside in. I literally made the jump from Babysitters Club to Stephen King in one summer, so my reading habits were skewed (if that’s the right word) for years. I can read YA and kids books and not feel like my intelligence is being insulted, still caught up in the emotional whirlwind that seems true to what I remember from that time fifteen years ago.

I kept the books that are old friends, the ones whose meaning seems to deepen with each year. I still cheer on the Young Wizards and fight the good fight in Tortall and wonder if we’ll ever see more of Damar. I still have a house in each world, revisiting it once a season and learning a little something new with each reading (OMG, Luthe and Aerin had sex? Holy crud!).

The point? I don’t know. That books are like people, that some are passing acquaintances who are fun and some are part of your heart that touch your lives forever. That you can find bits of their worlds in mine, and that the story goes ever on and on, out from the book where it began.

One Year Back for real

2009-04-23T12:41:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow marks the official day we landed in LA after a year abroad. Well, fourteen months abroad. Today marks the official one year anniversary of us leaving New Zealand. Which is why we're going back in two months. No, we're not homesick. Really.

What's changed in a year? Well, we're going back to NZ. We're moving again. Kara's going to be teaching in a classroom again. Tim's still working the same job. Yup, sounds the same as this time last year. And this time 2007. Maybe this is our true destiny: moving every couple years to a new, foreign location with more different weather. LA: sunny. Auckland: rainy. Binghamton: now with seasons!

And in celebration of that one year apart, here's some random pictures:

Us and Small Kiwi, who is no longer small

Lightning storm over Surfer's Paradise

Auckland from the top of our volcano

Kookaburra, but not in an old gum tree

Bright the hawk's flight on the empty sky... (Ursula K LeGuin)

The dream changes

2009-04-21T09:48:00.000-07:00

First, it was this:

Now, it's changed. Last night, I dreamed that I was teaching a beginning Portuguese class, full of my old ESL students, including half the Brazilians. I was teaching Portuguese without looking at the text book or knowing how to speak Portuguese. I couldn't control the students, they randomly left the classroom, I couldn't pronounce their names, and then one asked me, while I was teaching, why Americans taxed people so much.

*shudder* I never thought that nightmare would change. I guess there's a new anxiety dream in town.

Yay!

Miley keeps giving me this look...

2009-04-18T17:37:00.001-07:00

see more dog and puppy pictures

It's definitely more fun to look at snowboots and the summer kayak trip to Algonquin and pick my courseload rather than figure out the logistics of getting everything into two large U-Pack-It containers. Our car insurance will half, and so will our rent, but I have the strangest feeling that our heating bills will go up...

Anyone free the weekend of June 7th? We're moving our crap then. We may let you take what's leftover.

The Art of Losing Isn't Hard to Master

2009-04-11T21:15:00.000-07:00

One Art

The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.

---Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.

-- Elizabeth Bishop

In loving memory of Sandy Keller, family friend and best friend's mother who helped raise me and watched me grow from preschool forward. We'll miss you. And I don't think we'll ever quite get over it, because we certainly won't forget you.

On parle un petit peu de francais

2009-04-09T23:26:00.000-07:00

Rhisie's mother-in-law is in town, and her English is not so much. So, tonight at kickboxing, I was able to speak French with Romaine, and she was a very lovely lady. Luckily, my French is slightly better than la maman de Laurent's English, so we had a nice conversation about learning another language as an adult, how nice people are in South Bay, and what a wonderful person Rhisie is. Your mother in law really likes you, Rhisie. Just to let you know. She thinks you're very gentile.

Too bad that can't count as my foreign language exam for Binghamton. Bryan was willing to vouch for me to my adviser, but I told him it probably wouldn't count. In any case, it was nice practice.

Joyeux Paques et bonjour au printemps!

(Et merci a Mme. Fredricks, le meilleur professeur de francais chez Mira Costa.)

So Many Books, So Little Time

2009-04-06T17:09:00.000-07:00

I have language dictionaries. Lots of them. Some are really old, that my great-uncle used when he was a spy in World War II. Some are part of the "Wicked Language" series: Wicked Irish, Wicked French... I have "Making Out in Japanese" I and II. And books on:

* Irish
* Maori
* Gypsy
* French
* Latin
* German
* Italian
* Japanese
* Old English/Anglo-Saxon
* Croatian
* Sindarin/Quenya/Dwarvish from Tolkien

Is Kara a language dork? Hell yeah. We won't go into all the books on King Arthur (twenty that I can find off the bat, not counting the fiction section...)

This is why it's hard for me to get rid of books. Because you never know when you might need one on something. And it's not like I can get rid of the Arthurian books, since that will be my PhD thesis. Besides, doesn't everyone need four versions of Beowulf?

...or not...

And Bingo was her alma mater

2009-04-03T12:39:00.000-07:00

So. SUNY Binghamton. Class of 2013. Which means moving to the Southern Tier of New York this summer (or, as I like to call it, South Central). Yes, I got in. Yes, I accepted. Yes, we're moving there, even though there was one random shooting this morning, the day after I accepted.

On April Fools Day, Kara officially embarked on her path to doctorhood. So there will be a Dr. Maloney. Unless there's already a Dr. Maloney in the family and I just don't know. Now we have to figure out the logistics of moving, renting a place, registering for classes and state residency, what I'll be teaching, etc. etc. It's very exciting. I'm very excited. Especially since it means I a: never have to take that freakin' GRE again and b: someone was excited enough to work with me to accept me. I got accepted. I. Got accepted. To my last school. Number 31 (or 33, can't remember) for the win, baby!

Go Bearcats!

Earlier than last year, but still a 'no'

2009-03-30T21:38:00.000-07:00

So, yeah. No ASU this year. Which leaves bright, shiny Binghamton. Fingers crossed, if not, contingency plans!

I'm tired. And most likely going to Disneyland tomorrow.

Waitlisted -- second first same as the first

2009-03-27T15:23:00.000-07:00

Yup, again, at ASU. Will know more after April 15th. Lather, rinse, repeat.

BUT! As many have pointed out, I'm not rejected! (yet) And I'm still 'in progress' at Binghamton, so we'll see.

Plans for summer will be worked out eventually. We swears it.

Label away

2009-03-24T13:32:00.001-07:00

Tim bought a label maker. It was nine dollars.

My printer is now labeled 'monkeybutt!'

Luckily, replacement label roll tape is $12 a pop, so we'll only have $9 of labels around the house.

This is what happens when Former Temporary Kiwis see things on sale. At least we're doing our part to stimulate the economy, one monkeybutt at a time.

Three months and counting

2009-03-18T14:07:00.001-07:00

In three months,

we'll see our volcano again.

Though it will only be temporary, we will happily wear our temporary kiwi hats again. Besides, it'll be good to see the family. :)

Now we just have to figure out what we're going to do while we're there...

State of the Kara II

2009-03-12T16:38:00.001-07:00

Still no word from the last four schools.

Still no word on the Japan box (Happy one year anniversary of being kidnapped by pirates!).

Still can't really knit/crochet. I think I need another book/different yarn/depth perception.

Still teaching/writing/slumping around the house, eating thin mints.

Still need a vacation. Anyone up for a Disneyland day?

Plenty of gum trees in Torrance, but no kookaburra.

Sigh.

One Year Back, and Still No Japan Box

2009-03-04T11:39:00.000-08:00

It is not down in any map; true places never are. --Herman Melville

We landed in Japan a year ago, a land both hauntingly familiar and frustratingly strange (oh God, for ATMs that had an English language option...). We were just beginning our grand five week/two continent holiday with a six day tiki tour of Kyoto and Osaka.

I guess the whole fourteen months (twelve in En Zed, one and a half 'overseas' and another two weeks back in En Zed at the end) was a tiki tour, a roundabout way of getting somewhere, even if we usually weren't really sure where we were going, what time zone we were in, or what our local post code/state was at the moment. The destination didn't matter, because we knew it would end up back here in LA someday. It really was a holiday dedicated to going places, focusing on the journey more than the arrival.

And now that we've been back for almost a year, our temporary kiwihood having been revoked on 28 February 2008, what have we discovered?

We miss it. A lot. To the point of almost going to En Zed in April to celebrate ANZAC, except for the fact that a: we have no money, and b: we have no vacation time.

It's the lack of a volcano and cows out the bedroom window, and the fact that there are NO hills in Torrance (maybe we should've moved to El Segundo). It's missing the threat of a chicken chasing me down the street, the convenience of a decent bus system (as long as you were in CBD), and being able to walk into the village for dinner.

It's not the food, since we can get McVitties and Tim-Tams at the British imports shop, or CostPlus. It's not the lack of iced tea (thank God, I'm home) or the limited soda/fizzy drink choices. It's not even the gym, since Boxing Works means more to me than City Kickboxing probably ever could, though that could've changed with time.

It's the people, the family we left behind, the landscape. It's the wildness and the terrifyingly beautiful parts that photos do no justice to. It's that damned tui that nested in the tree next to our flat, and the stray cats who'd always yowl at me until I pet them, and the nice Chinese couple that owned the laundry (as inconvenient as it was). It's the children's bookstore down the road, and the four movie theatres within walking distance. It's Cornwall Park and No Tree Hill and our very own volcano watching over us, day after day. It's Paradise and rough-hewn mountains that sing to my heart somehow, in ways LA and my Hill never did.

Madeleine L'Engle might've said it best in Many Waters:

"I'm very glad the kitchen is all here. But you know what--I'm homesick."

"We probably always will be, a little," Dennys agreed.

Or going back further in memory still, to an old camp song:

We shall return there some lucky day.
Our hearts will guide us, they know the way.
People in cities don't understand
Falling in love with the land.
-Moon on the Meadow

Though I might feel a little better if that Japan Box arrived...

My muay thai family

2009-02-26T22:15:00.001-08:00

The Boxing Works family:

Opening: Rhisie and Laurent
0:40 Nathan, my usual sparring partner. Yes, he's 13.
0:47 Darryl, 'director' and the one who likes to kick me in the ass. Repeatedly.
1:14 Joel, holding the pads
1:53 Bryan, not standing on his head and Lisa, standing on hers
1:55 Bryan, standing on his head
1:59 Duke, the boxing instructor
2:03 Rhisie and Jen
2:18 Kara and Jenni, then me shadowboxing
2:33 Mike, prepping
2:42 Jose and John, two of the other guys I'll spar with
2:59 Natalie, my boxing sparring partner

This is why I love Boxing Works.

State of the Kara

2009-02-26T12:51:00.000-08:00

Apparently can't knit.

2 rejections down, 9 implied to go, and wondering when to start emailing PhD programs for status updates.

Struggling to not race Tim to the mailbox every day.

BTW, Tim's foot is better.

Not doing much of anything substantial, but teaching this round is easier than last term. It helps when you know what you're doing.

And now, pictures from the Cloisters museum in NYC back in June:

In honor of the 42nd day of the year...

2009-02-11T13:16:00.000-08:00

Penguins.

Why penguins?

It was a couple of days before Kate Schechter became aware of any of these things, or indeed of anything at all in the outside world.

She passed the time quietly in a world of her own in which she was surrounded as far as the eye could see with old cabin trunks full of past memories in which she rummaged with great curiosity, and sometimes bewilderment. Or, at least, about a tenth of the cabin trunks were full of vivid, and often painful or uncomfortable memories of her past life; the other nine-tenths were full of penguins, which surprised her. Insofar as she recognised at all that she was dreaming, she realised that she must be exploring her own subconscious mind. She had heard it said that humans are supposed only to use about a tenth of their brains, and that no one was very clear what the other nine-tenths were for, but she had certainly never heard it suggested that they were used for storing penguins.
--The Long, Dark Tea-time of the Soul, Douglas Adams

Why 42? Well, that's another story...

Death of a childhood dream

2009-01-26T17:06:00.000-08:00

I can't help it. I always wanted to run away and be a sailor. Okay, I wanted to run away and be a pirate on one of the tall ships, or a Viking on a long boat, as opposed to being a sailor in the Navy like my grandpa and several great uncles (one of whom might've been a cook on a boat in Pearl Harbor on December 7th, but that's another story).

I've been on the Lady Washington. I spent five hours on the Soren Larsen. For a small donation, I could live aboard the Lady Washington for two weeks, or volunteer on the Soren Larsen. I could swab the decks and sing sea chanties and run around barefoot and painting tar. It all sounded so romantic. Even paddleboating around the Black Pearl when she was at harbor in King Harbor a few years ago was the thrill of a lifetime (we saw battle damage!). My dream of running away to sea was almost in my grasp, until...

We did the 'diving the reef' thing in Australia. We went in the Wet, and seas were rough. It rained all three days, but then again, that doesn't really make a difference when you're snorkeling. We slept for two nights on the gaff-rigged schooner the Santa Maria, sharing the hold with ten of our closest friends. As a kid, I dreamed of chances like that. Except, I hadn't realized how stuffy it would get, crowded into a room the size of my closet with ten of our closest friends, especially since we couldn't open the portholes, since we'd get wet if we did. And sleeping on deck wasn't an option, since we'd get wet if we did. Add to the fact that I got sea sick and stayed sea sick for three days at sea and the next couple days on land...

Then, this weekend, we went to Ventura to enjoy a weekend away. We were going to take the boat out to Santa Cruz Island for a day of hiking. I thought it would be like the 5,000 ferry crossings we made in Auckland Harbour. Maybe a little rough like that one trip to Catalina, or the boat back from Stewart. Erm, no.

While the weather was sunny, the winds were blowing. The ocean started getting rough, and the tiny ship was tossed. If not for the courage of the fearless crew... The boat actually turned around halfway out because so many people were getting sick. Tim got sick. I clung to the railing outside and braved the sea spray, chewing on candied ginger, determined not to feed the fishes. And while I didn't -- I lasted an hour on the damned boat, covered in salt and smelling puke, I finally realized.

Kara is not meant to be a sailor. While I will happily suffer for my eventual cruise to Antarctica, on a slightly bigger boat, I think I was not made for the days of the wooden tall ships. As much as I'd love to sail on the Soren Larsen from New Zealand to the Cook Islands and up through Vanu'atu, it's probably not meant to be.

It's hard to let go of a childhood dream. I will never hoist the colors high, nor will I ever be a 'real' sailor. I think I'm okay with that. While sailing off under the stars, hearing that voice that Kermit talks about in "Rainbow Connection" (as opposed to the other voices in my head) sounds like a great adventure, there are other adventures to be had.

Jousting School, anyone?

Hail to the Chief

2009-01-20T10:15:00.000-08:00

We don't have TV. Well, we have a TV in the bedroom that's not plugged in and that's basically acting as a DVD player stand (not plugged in or hooked up either). To watch TV, we stream everything over the internet ~~or just download it~~. So, watching the Inauguration was a little problematic, since the net kept cutting out. I got to see part of it, though! What parts I was awake for (9:15 PST onward...).

It's a historic day. I'd be pithy, but I'm not quite awake yet. I'm proud to be an American, but I think I'm too tired to feel triumphant and all that. In any case, bye-bye, Bush, don't let the door hit your ass on the way out. Hello, change. That's kind of nice to say. Hello, change.

So, I'll leave you with this.

We hold these truths to be self-evident; that all men are created equal; that they are endowed by their creator with certain inalienable rights; that among these are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness; that to secure these rights, governments are instituted among men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed; that whenever any form of government becomes destructive to these ends, it is the right of the people to alter or abolish it, and to institute new government, laying its foundation on such principles, and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their safety and happiness.
--Thomas Jefferson

The Waiting Game

2009-01-19T14:39:00.000-08:00

It's like Russian Roulette on crack. 11 bullets, 11 possibilities, Two more months of waiting. What do I do while I wait for admissions decisions?

I check out I Can Has Cheezburger.

I check the Applying to Grad School community on Livejournal.

I obsess over Facebook. (Why did someone friend me then unfriend me five minutes later? Why?)

I don't write when I'm supposed to write or edit when I'm supposed to edit. That would be work. Work would be constructive. Constructivism is not allowed.

I eat ice cream with nonfat whipped topping (real dairy!). It's light ice cream, though. And I haven't been to the Chinese bakery in a few weeks. And Tim and I did walk to Del Amo yesterday. That's four miles, round trip.

Maybe I'll go for another walk...

Resolving for 2009

2008-12-31T12:53:00.000-08:00

Since Gayle did it, I might as well too. Resolutions for 2009, which I hope to keep at least some of:

Lose ten pounds before Kristy's wedding in July. Preferably 20.
Exercise better. Not necessarily more, just better and get more out of it. That means no more talking to Gayle during padwork.
Take deadlines more seriously. Less procrastination.
Send a story off to a SFWA-approved publishing outfit
Purge. Purge the books, purge the clothes. Get ready for the potential (hopeful) move.
Write 250k words. That boils down to about 20k a month. I can do it. I've done weirder, like that one day where I wrote 18k…
Try to be less negative. Think more positively. Don't nag so much, don't whine so much. Accept that some people, including friends you love dearly, can be dumbasses sometimes and just let it go.
Get into a PhD program.

I know some of these are weighty resolutions, but I really do need to start thinking more positively and taking more responsibility for my own life. I've seem my own work suffer because of my slacking off, and it's really not fair to myself or others (or whatever). So, this is the new leaf I'm turning over. Out with the bad, in with the good, for better or worse.

Happy Holidays from Formerly Temporary Kiwis!

2008-12-26T14:33:00.000-08:00

May your days be merry and bright.

And may all your Christmases be white.

Holidays are almost here

2008-12-18T14:11:00.000-08:00

Shopping is done, except for some little last-minute stocking stuffers.

Cards are mailed. You should get one soon.

Gifts are mailed. Hopefully your presents won't get lost with our Japan box.

Two Christmas parties down, two to go. And the actual holiday itself.

And Southern California has finally entered winter. 62 degrees, with rain yesterday and rain forecast for next week, and the usual slowdown on the freeways because Angelinos can't deal with water falling from the sky.

The apartment smells like cinnamon pinecones and evergreen trees.

I love Christmas.

Let it snow...

2008-12-02T09:43:00.000-08:00

Yes, Gayle, I will need all those hats and scarves and gloves I packed...

It's kind of stopped snowing, though there's been a steady downfall since we woke up around 10ish.

I forgot how pretty snow can be.

Cradle of the United States

2008-11-25T09:37:00.000-08:00

I love DC more than I thought I would. I love the history and the ease of the Metro and the fact that there are no bad pictures of the Washington Monument. I like walking the streets and knowing that I'm a part of the heartbeat of the nation. I like the museums (as long as I don't spend too much time in them) and the weather isn't half-bad either. I saw snow! Okay, it was a flurry, but still. Snow fell from the sky.

What touched me most, caught my breath? In the Public Vaults of the National Archives, they had Pa Ingalls's original land deed to the house on the shores of Silver Lake. Remember what I said about being a literary dork? This is one of those moments, something that makes it real. I know the Ingalls and Wilders as well as I know my own family, but seeing that, with Charles Ingalls' actual signature, well... Yeah. Good thing I already had a stuffed up nose.

So, on our last day in Virginia, Tim's working and I'm sick with a sinus infection. Gee, what a shock.

See you in December!

The stinky old Bull Elephant, still holding court at the Natural History Museum

Pa's land grant for a little house on the South Dakota prairie

Country roads, take me home.

Tim's coworker Paul's cabin, which he's slowly restoring and chinking.

Dad's plane. No, really, he helped restore it and donated it to the Smithsonian when he was still working for Western Airlines.

Hoist the color high

The Wall. For Dad.

We go way back.

The price of freedom: Washington Monument and WWII Memorial

What ho, winter!

2008-11-17T10:20:00.000-08:00

Forecast for Washington, DC this week:
40s, chance of snow

Forecast for Queens, NY this week:
40s, chance of snow

Forecast for Buffalo, NY this week:
30s, chance of snow

*goes to repack bags for East Coast trip*

Holidays 2008 - Cards ordered

2008-11-11T14:20:00.000-08:00

So, in following Formerly-Temp-Kiwi holiday tradition, we ordered our 2008 cards. Believe it or not, out of 30,000 pictures, we only have about 10 that are of the two of us, and only four or so are actually 'good' ones. In any case, cards are ordered, they reference Tolkien as is our continued tradition, and it's all in good fun and games. If they arrive before we leave for DC on Wednesday, kick ass! If not, Gwen, can you just leave them on our kitchen table?

So much to do, and it's not even December yet...

Fun with the IRD X, aka Nitwits, All

2008-11-10T15:12:00.000-08:00

I'm glad that the En Zed IRD is just as clueless as the IRS is here. I owed extra money, Tim owed extra money, something about not letting him know they were done processing it and a fine...

Yup, I love paying taxes. And I know that not even President Elect Obama can help with the tax delights we'll be having for the next couple years.

The lesson: a year abroad fraks with your taxes. This message brought to you by Temporary Kiwis of America.

Wow, Kara has hope

2008-11-05T09:15:00.000-08:00

I'm a born cynic. I think it's in my genetic code, right next to the sarcasm. But let me just say that, last night, I think I felt the stirrings of what you people call hope.

In my year as a temporary kiwi, I finally got a good view of what the rest of the world thought of us. I think this is our chance to finally shine again, and to take our place on the world stage as a bright light of democracy and a vision of hope. Or whatever.

While I don't understand why Prop 8 passed and I have my own issues with the nasty campaigning that went on with that (Mormon Church, you're on notice for your slander -- get the fuck out of my state), I do feel hopeful for the first time in a long time.

And that should say something.

For change, for a better tomorrow, and for what we can finally (almost) call equality for all.

Watashi no hobākurafuto wa unagi de ippai desu

2008-10-31T12:34:00.000-07:00

Gayle is off to the Ukraine for a week, so I figured I'd help her out with some useful Ukrainian phrases. Lo and behold, my search turned up the Best. Website. Evar.

My hovercraft is full of eels in many languages

Because everyone needs to know how to say that in:

Ukrainian: Моє судно на повітряній подушці повно вуграми
Gaelic: Tá m'árthach foluaineach lán d'eascainn
Japanese: Watashi no hobākurafuto wa unagi de ippai desu
And for Laurent, Luxembourgish: Mäi Loftkësseboot ass voller Éilen

Have a good time in Kiev, Gayle, and bring me back wodka and a fur hat!

Reconnection, inspiration, and why is the rum always gone?

2008-10-27T10:52:00.000-07:00

This week, I think we've been more social than we have in, I dunno, years. Except maybe for the weeks we lived in the Kiwi household, and we were kind of forced into happy sociability, just because we were part of a family and you have to talk to family at dinner. In the past week since my birthday, we've seen friends that we've (I've) missed for the past two years, and even friends not spoken to since college. It's been nice. Really nice. This is what I missed: the talking to people who understand, who know on the level of a decade plus of friendship behind us, and the ones who can now laugh at the fact that I didn't give them the damn rose from Medieval Times on their 16th birthday (Kristy, I'm looking at you).

There's nothing that brings dorks together than dorky conversation, whether it's books or tv shows or discussing why Star Trek: Nemesis apparently sucked donkey balls, as per several 'knowledge experts.' Geeking out over Pythons and Disney trivia and Lord of the Rings was something we didn't get a lot of chance to do in En Zed, probably because our social circle included the Kiwi family and my one friend from kickboxing who doesn't speak to me anymore (Kate? You there?). So, yeah.

Except, when you talk to such friends and they tell you about the JET program for teaching English in Japan, and we figure out that I could go and Tim could come with me on a special visa and maybe even work, and then we realize there's two weddings we really can't miss next August and October. If it wasn't for step-brothers and high school friends, we'd be in Japan now. You owe us. So, yeah, reconnecting as adults is somehow a little more meaningful, especially when you can look past all the petty differences and the squabbles, and the fact that you might've thought someone was an over-opinionated prick in high school.

Hmm. No real point to this post, just the fact that I'm glad we're all friends again, and if you're coming to the Halloween party, RSVP, for cripe's sake. Otherwise, you're on notice.

The Stars Say, Take the day off

2008-10-24T10:10:00.000-07:00

You know it's a bad sign when your horoscope says:

Can you take the whole day off and do nothing at all? That might be a tall order, but if you can come close to that ideal, you should have the best possible day. You can get back into action soon, though.

Granted, this is also the horoscope that told me to run away and join the circus, so I guess I should take it with a grain of salt. I think I'm going to go to Disneyland though, follow Andrea's example and get some work done while waiting in line or something. Tim's going to a concert tonight, so it's either that, or sit home and surf the net. At least, at Disneyland, I'd be outside and in fresh air.

Surviving the big 3-0

2008-10-20T16:21:00.000-07:00

Two cakes, three dinners and a concert later.

Yes, I have survived my way to the big 3-0. My third decade began with a harrowing test, followed by alcohol and Italian food and an incredible Gaelic Storm concert. I met friends' significant others and made plans for weddings and reminisced and sang at the top of my lungs. There may have even been some dancing. I was wished happy birthday by a 27 month old Voltron, who becomes more and more verbal every day. "Whas'at? Whas'at? Let's go see daddy. Uppie, please. I like cake."

So thirty isn't quite the monster I thought it would be. And sorry, no, there are no pictures, not even of the dog. And King's Hawaiian continues to rock the birthday cake spectrum. Paradise Cake is awesome, and it makes me a little nostalgic for a place we once visited called Paradise.

*shakes herself out of the homesickness*

Thank you, everyone, who came, sent gifts, sent cards, called, and wished me happy birthday. It meant a lot in a month that decided to spawn me. And now we can concentrate on the really important stuff: Halloween!

Heaven on earth

2008-10-13T11:28:00.000-07:00

It's Fall. Fall means things like pumpkin pie. Pumpkin pie is the ultimate indulgence, unless you count cheesecake. So how do you make heaven on earth?

Put pumpkin pie on top of cheesecake.

Only Kings Hawaiian is crazy enough to do this. And it is decadent in ways that words can't describe. Because, much like Uluru is a big fucking red rock, pumpkin pie cheesecake is. Pumpkin. Pie. On. Cheesecake.

The dilemma: should I choose this sinful bliss for my birthday cake on Saturday? What about Jason, who's lactose intolerant? What if people don't like cheesecake, or pumpkin pie? And at this point, do I really care?

Kings Hawaiian has bad-ass cakes. I adore their cakes. They have been our family's birthday cakes for the past six or seven years. I've had no less than two of them since we returned from En Zed. Do I forsake the tradition for a pumpkin pie cheesecake? Will it be too much?

It is, after all, my birthday. I can indulge if I want to.

Oh, the dilemmas...

Reason #542 not to mess with Murphy

2008-10-02T23:48:00.000-07:00

I talked crap about Tim's (non)ability to park a car, and what happens? As I'm lecturing him, I scrape the side of the Camry against the pillar in our carport.

Ooops.

I badmouth the padded headgear we ~~have to~~should wear for sparring, and what happens? I get kicked in the head right across the left ear, and now Bryan wants to call me Van Gogh. I feel bad for Weasel, though (the kicker). He thinks it's his fault, when it's really mine, since I didn't exactly block.

Moral of the story? Don't mess with Murphy, or karma will kick you right back in the ass.

And no, Kara didn't sustain any lasting damage to her ear, just to her pride. And maybe that headache.

A few things

2008-10-01T21:45:00.000-07:00

1. Kara will officially begin teaching for the University of Phoenix in November. Whoo, money! Whoo, working from home! Whoo, working from home for money!

2. Kara and Tim are enjoying their LA Conservancy walks around downtown LA with Gayle. Especially since they can easily convince Gayle to go to Little Tokyo to ~~buy Japanese crap~~visit the bakery. Mmm, melon pan...

3. Kara welcomes her first baby cousin, the first Garkovich great-grand-child. Whoo! Congrats, Jeanine and Neal. Sorry she's not an October baby, but she is a Libra, so have fun.

4. Happy late birthday to Tim's oldest niece, Lily. See you in December!

5. Still no box from Japan. Gee, what a surprise.

6. Yeah, that's pretty much it, unless you want to hear about Kara's schmoozing weekend in San Francisco, or Tim's astronomy class, or that trip to Mission San Juan Capistrano they went on a few weeks ago. Sorry we're not more entertaining.

7. Miley doesn't like her Halloween costume, therefore she is no longer a real Larson. Doesn't everyone want to be a pirate?

8. And finally, Tim picking some guy's nose.

Kara+Math=FAIL

2008-09-20T06:12:00.000-07:00

Blah blah, reapplying for PhD programs, blah blah, need to retake GREs (Graduate Record Exams). Blah blah, suck at math...

So, GREs. GRES=SATs on crack. Because no English major has taken a math class in a decade, and we all automatically fail. Case in point, the first time I took the GRE subject test, I scored in the 45th percentile in math. That means that 55% of the test takers did better than me. Yeah.

I took two practice sections today. On the first one, I missed 7 out of 20. On the second one, I missed 9 out of 20. Yes, we're confirming the fact that we'd already suspected when I failed Trig back in high school (50% on the final, baby). The inalienable truth is that Kara sucks at math. And she's not quite sure why her PhD career should depend on this, since she will not get asked, at her oral comprehensive exams, if x/3=y/5, and x < 0 < y, then which is greater, the number of trains in Auckland, or the number of Kara's brain cells lost thinking about this question.

I blame my distrust of math on an actual question asked in my 8th grade algebra book:

How do you keep an Eskimo warm?

Answer: Give him a Home on the Range.

My mom and I couldn't figure it out. My math tutor couldn't figure it out. My frakkin' math book used a pun.

And you wonder why I married the man I did.

Last pictures of Temporary Kiwis

2008-09-18T11:17:00.001-07:00

Well, I finally got the rest of our pictures from our 14 month long trip uploaded.

The Country Life/Last Days in Auckland

The Grampians, Victoria

I'm sorting through NY and Montreal photos (just in time for our 2.5 week trip back East in November), so hopefully those will be up by the end of the week.

Also contemplating actually writing down our adventures, but not sure if anyone would actually read it...

And thus, goodnight

2008-09-14T18:04:00.002-07:00

Well, Japan Box, it's been six months. If you're not lost at sea somewhere in the Panama Canal, you're somewhere in a customs warehouse in Newark, NJ. It seems highly unlikely that you'll get here, so we bid you fond farewell and hope that you vaya con dios or whatever.

Oyasuminasai. I wish mata ashita (see you tomorrow), but I'm not going to hold my breath. Otherwise I might be holding it for a very long time.

So if you didn't get anything from Japan, fear not. Neither did we. :(

Getting stuff back

2008-09-06T23:52:00.005-07:00

The hardest part of moving? Figuring out who you lent what to and where it all is. Has anyone seen my leatherworking tools? Or our good cordless phone? Or that tall lamp that goes in the living room? We thought they were at Nana and Grandpa's. We thought they were at Andrea's. Or Andrea's Mom's. Apparently not. And since our storage space is empty of everything but roach bait (and no longer ours), I just figured I'd ask...

Also, does anyone remember if we had a cast-iron teapot? I seem to remember one, but I can't find it, and Marukai has some really cool ones... Not that Marukai 98 cent is our new favorite store, but since our Japan Box still has not arrived (almost six months and counting!), it's a good enough substitute for all the cool stuff we bought you that is now lost at sea somewhere. Or stuck in customs. Maybe I should have declared the pack of green tea...

Sigh. Slowly but surely, we're unpacking. Kind of.

Here's a quick overview of our 2 bedroom, 1.75 bath flat (with patio!):

Our unnamed plant, a New Zealand flax plant. Someday, when the leaves/fronds are big enough, I will make flax flowers for everyone, Maori style.

Tim, hard at work in our office. Our small patio (see above) opens off the office.

Our Japanese corner, the replacement for the Japan Box that will never arrive

Our living room, complete with sleeper sofa from Ikea.

Our 'library'. And yes, those are all my books. Well, they all belong to me, but they're not all of mine.

Our dining room, complete with scenic window view of the parking lot and our new kitchen bench cart thing.

Kitchen! Smaller than the old one, but complete with cyclopian angles to make even Lovecraft jealous.

Our entry-way, complete with tanuki with lucky balls and our ROUS (Rodent Of Unusual Size--read Princess Bride, dammit!).

And, because I can...

A picture of Miley, who makes the world go 'round.

Let this memory lighten grief

2008-09-03T22:03:00.002-07:00

The first time I met him, he dropped Kristy off at my house on his motorcycle. We were thirteen, almost fourteen. He was friendly and jolly and knew everyone in South Bay, and let us run up his phonebill as we downloaded songs from Les Mis off of Q-Link and chatted with guys across the country. He laughed at our glee at Lou and Kid getting married. He didn't yell (too much) when I stuck his antique Civil War rifle muzzle-down into the dirt when we filmed our student film masterpiece, 1862. He taught me about casting lead bullets and somehow knew our swordsmith friend, Bill. And he laughed when Kristy and I fought all the way home from Escondido. And when she wouldn't let me in the car on the way back from Medieval Times. I meant to give her the rose from the knight, really. I just...didn't.

He called me his other daughter, and never failed to give me a hug whenever he saw me. His smile was bright, and I never really saw him angry, even at those $100 phone bills after we'd been up all night online.

David Forsyth, you were a great second father to me in all those formative years, even when your daughter and I weren't speaking, which seemed like half the time. You welcomed me into your family, blessed me at my confirmation, and cheered for me at graduation. I feel honored to have been an honorary Forsyth for a little while, to play dress-up with your daughter at the Centinela adobe, and to sing "On My Own" off-key in your office over and over again.

I promise I'll watch out for your daughter and, if she needs it, I'll lend her my dad for a little while. Because she's daddy's little girl as much as I am, and I don't even want to consider the thought of losing my daddy.

Computer geek, motorcycle man, NRA member and antique gun-nut: in many ways you shaped me, growing up. I carry your love of romance novels and Anne McCaffrey in my heart, and thank you for introducing me to the lurid world of online and how to see the world on the wings of a dragon.

Oh-konomiyaki

2008-08-30T00:33:00.004-07:00

Technically meaning "grill/cook what you like", okonomiyaki Kansai-style (aka from Osaka, where everyone speaks funny like Tasuki from Fushigi Yuugi) is pan-fried batter cake. I was introduced this Japanese specialty at the food court at Mitsuwa. Fumiko was this little lunch place that served bad-ass okonomiyaki--basically, Japanese pancake with cabbage, various veggies and meats, covered in tonkatsu sauce, mayo, bonito flakes and pickled ginger. The taste is a bouquet of salty and sweet, and smells vaguely of the essence of spring when the cherry blossoms fall. Or something.

So, in lieu of the Japan Box that will never arrive, we made okonomiyaki tonight. I love Torrance. I love living within 2 miles of three Japanese grocery stores and one Korean. Even if none of these stores can find my Japan Box. I was actually able to find ALL the traditional ingredients, including dashi to add to the flour to make the 'glue' that holds all the pancake 'what you like' together.

So, okonomiyaki, Maloney-style, from start to finish:

The ingredients: batter (flour, dashi, cabbage, egg), chicken, corn and green onions.

Putting them all together in the pan. Looks...yeah.

The condiments: tonkatsu sauce, mayo and pickled ginger in a tube.

Hey, it looks almost edible now!

Ta-da! We have something resembling nihon ryori (Japanese food).

And Tim does the dishes, including the three pans I scorched in the process.

Theoretically, I begin teaching for University of Phoenix (online English classes, yay!) in September sometime. We'll keep you posted on that. Otherwise, life rolls on same-old, same-old.

Literary ghosts and losing an acre

2008-08-11T23:41:00.002-07:00

Acres of Books in Long Beach is closing.

Dad's been dragging me down there since I was a kid. I even have a sweatshirt, somewhere, that says Acres of Books on it. And for a kid who loved books, being able to get lost in an acre of them was priceless.

The historical building the bookstore's housed in is going to be recommissioned as housing and art galleries. Apparently the literary no longer constitutes art. While we won't drown in bitterness here, I'll still quote Ray Bradbury, who might've said it best:

It is a watering hole, a grand place to prowl on rainy days, to open books never seen before and probably never to be seen again, as the rain chatters on the high tin roofs, and you get that old wondrous time-spell feeling of hoping that when you turn the next stack you'll meet a lion with a pride of hunters soon behind...

The dust is waiting like an Orient spice. The literary ghosts are waiting like the friends you always wanted and now at last find. The winding corridors promise you to be forever going on a journey and forever lost. Bring your flashlight for late in the day. Ask for me. Tut's in there somewhere. Inquire. He'll tell you where I am.

I found my omnibus edition of the first three Young Wizards books there. On my last visit, I had to try really hard not to decimate the King Arthur section. And on my bookshelves at home, there's still a copy of War and Peace that Dad inscribed to me, saying that he'd always buy any book I wanted. (Yes, I wanted and read War and Peace.)

America's downfall isn't in its media and its commercialism and its carbon-obsession and whatever else. The downfall is in its fading belief in magic, its disregard of written treasures, its falling out of love with books. It's the loss of bookstores like this one, one acre at a time.

The box saga continues...

2008-08-02T14:41:00.002-07:00

Our Japan Box is in the US! Somewhere! We're not sure where, but it did actually arrive on US soil and is in the US postal system! Thank you to Miki and her wonderful mom who actually went to Japan Post for us. So, theoretically, we could call up USPS and find out where it is. And even more theoretically, we should actually get the box eventually. But it's here! It's American now! And we will have our Japan souvenirs!

!

We're mostly done setting up furniture, our couch arrived, and we had our first 'dinner party' of sorts. Okay, it was four people and Voltron, but still. Voltron toddled around the apartment and came away a happy girl with a brand-new singing Care Bear. Jason and Tharon, I hope you enjoy it.

More later when further box developments occur...

Back into reality

2008-07-29T10:01:00.003-07:00

Or would that be wikiality, since reality is completely subjective? 0_o

We're in our new flat. Back in Torrance. Because we like Torrance, and it's almost like being in Japan, with our Japan box. We have furniture mostly put together and heaps of boxes sitting in the middle of each room (des tas de boites, en francais). Last night was Ikea, tomorrow night is Linder's Furniture and maybe Cost Plus to get the kick-ass Nakano cabinet as accent piece for our weirdly angled library corner. Kristin, our resident interior designer, will help us pick out a couch and a rug. Or something.

We're also doing the job thing. I started training today for University of Phoenix. Only four weeks of unpaid training left, whoo! Tim's putting together his new desk, and alternately checking to see if anyone's IMing him. Ahh, the life of a corporate wage-slave. But a wage-slave with benefits, which means I can go to the doctor and get my ear-wax cleaned out. Which you all just really needed to know about.

And now, a picture:

The Cloisters in New York City, Best. Museum. EVAR. You know it's impressive if it makes me feel like I'm in a monastery somewhere in France.

Nihonjin desu ka?

2008-07-25T07:29:00.000-07:00

Okay, here's when we throw the rope out into the readership (hi, Rhisie!) and hope someone catches.

Anyone know anyone in Japan who's willing to go to a post office and fill out an international inquiry form for me? Apparently the only way to track our package is from Japan (don't ask) by a form that you can only fill out in person that you can only get in person in Japan.

Yes, I'm this desperate to get my frakkin package back.

Bueller?

Adventures in Japan Post

2008-07-21T18:07:00.002-07:00

Things to know before you send something from Japan:

Surface mail may take more than three months.
Japan Post can only track mail up to six months after posting.
Japan Post does have an English-language phone number, but you can only call it from Japan.
Japan Post has other contact numbers, but you can only call them from Japan.
Japan Post has an email inquiry form, but it's in Japanese.
The inquiry form won't let you submit it until you fill in all the blanks. Correctly.
A form field called "Say, Example: Bin Yu" does not exactly translate into English.
Same with "May, Example: Taro."
The US Embassy in Tokyo will give you a phone number, but they only speak Japanese at that phone number and hang up on you.

In other words: don't send it boat mail, send it airmail.

Please, please, please, Japan Post, just send me my box. I'd like to see what I bought. And that flannel shirt that I love. And my comfy jeans.

Welcome to my world

2008-07-18T00:23:00.002-07:00

Just a drive-by posting...

And yes, I do want to go back to grad school to get that PhD. Dr. and Mr. Maloney! It just sounds so made of awesome!

Someone moved the world gate!

2008-06-06T20:28:00.003-07:00

Okay, maybe not so much a traveling post as a 'Kara is a dork' post. In fact, it's probably a gratuitous post on my account, but I don't care, it's my blog. :P

If you imagine this building being called the Pan-Am building, and think back to a certain book about two young wizards let loose in Manhattan...

This is one of those near perfect moments for me, much like the kookaburra in the old gum tree. The above shot is a visualization of my childhood, when everything I learned about NYC consisted of information gakked from the Young Wizards books and that one brief visit when I was eleven (and the movie Big). So, when roaming around Manhattan on Thursday with Tim, I will admit to a private moment of glee when I realized that this building, in a former life, had been the same one that two young wizards climbed in order to find out what happened to the Grand Central worldgate.

I'm a book dork. I went to Dublin and tried to find the landmarks from A Wizard Abroad. If a city I visit has been referenced in a book I've read, I try to find physical evidence of it somehow. And when that perfect moment manifests, like this one, it's kind of magical in a way. Not something as profound as an epiphany, or as cheesy as Virginia and Santa Claus, but something slightly like that. Stephen King was right: the magic exists. You just have to know where to look for it.

Because sometimes a movie is like coming home

2008-05-28T22:49:00.003-07:00

I walk the dog a lot. Every day, in fact. It gets me reacquainted with the neighborhood I spend 26 and a half years living in. I see my old neighbors. I revisit my old biking-riding grounds. I catch up on how little this corner of South Bay has changed. Because it's South Bay, where time occasionally stands still.

Time stood still tonight. Dad and I went to see Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of The Crystal Skulls. It was ET, Ghostbusters, a thousand Daddy/Daughter movies all over again. It was Indy! In the hat! With the whip! And Indy! It felt like coming home. Why? Because it was simple. It was fun. It had a story and some decently cool mythos and Indy! In the hat! With the whip! It was fun. And I haven't had that much fun since I've been home. It reminded me that home was fun. And that it's possible to relive all those moments.

This is an odd place, where my past and future converge. I walk my dog everyday past the tracks of a previous dog and girl, frozen in cement. I know those footsteps, because I walked them in a pair of black and blue Sketchers, a ditzy Cocker Spaniel at my side, probably fifteen years ago. I see echoes of my childhood everywhere, not just in the house. In my neighbor, ten years older than me, but now living in the house of his childhood with his wife and baby girl. In Nick across the street, who just graduated from uni, but who will always be Little Nick that I used to babysit for. In the ginger cat Tim and I almost ran over the other night, because I swore it was the ghost of Cinnamon, Coolest Cat that Ever Existed.

I'm Second Generation South Bay. I'm Third Generation Angelino. I'm a dying breed, especially here in SoCal. My childhood is gone forever, and there's no point in trying to recapture the past. But there is a future here, a future in jobs and flats in whatever city and in nieces (Voltron, the little girls back east) and nieces and nephews to come (Baby Gardner, the next gaming baby). There are always lines that connect us back to our roots, to our days of fedora-wearing, Nazi-fighting, Goonies R Good Enough-singing. And I think I'll always find those here, in South Bay. Whether it's a movie-night with Dad, or a walk with my dog. Home is people and places and things, and it's always good to come back.

More pics!

2008-05-22T18:15:00.003-07:00

Drive-by piccing:

Wayoutback Tour, the best five days in Aussie

Cairns and the Reef

And me, on our last trip up Mt. Eden. *sniffle*

It rained here today. For all of five minutes. It felt almost like Auckland.

Maori hangi in the pot, nine days old...

2008-05-21T14:41:00.002-07:00

Oh, wait.

So we've got Hangi in the Pot going on the stove, filling the house with the smell of, well, burnt cabbage leaves and hickory chips. We've got a dog asleep on the back porch, and a husband upstairs working for his new, official "we get benefits now" full-time job for his old company. We have two semi-adjusted formerly Temporary Kiwis, who might not exactly know where home is now, but know it's nice to be back in LA. Sometimes. Even if it means parents nagging you about the house not burning down (hi, Mom and Dad!).

And cheers to Rhisie for graduating from Hula (part of the reason for the island-style feast with the boxing girls tonight) and that's about it.

A Day in the Life of

2008-05-13T12:44:00.005-07:00

We've been home for just over two weeks. Slowly, but surely, we're re-integrating into life in the extended Larson-Maloney household. This includes my new job: dog walker.

You'll remember Miley "Her name's not Stella or Bev" Larson as a little puppy.

And she grew.

And now, she's a puppy school graduate (she ate the diploma) who loves to dig, chew on people's hands, and jump on defenseless small children. She is frightened by one thing: Voltron's 20 month old lungs.

So what does the puppy (aged nine months this May) do every day?

She plays.

She jumps.

She rides in the car.

She tries to eat things.

She chases the hose.

We're working on "Sit" and "Stay" (especially "Stay") and "Off" and "Don't bite my hand, you stupid dog, my arm is not your chew toy." She likes attention, and loves to be near anybody, since everyone in the world is her best friend. And even with two walks a day and plenty of playtime, she's still a spazz.

Theoretically, she'll outgrow that.

So, while we're not up to balancing anything on her head just yet, she's still a good dog who has her quieter moments. Not many of them, but she does have them.

Reverse Culture Shock and How to Avoid It

2008-05-08T22:31:00.004-07:00

We've officially been back for two weeks. Two weeks as Permanent Americans again. Do we miss being Temporary Kiwis? Of course. Can I count the number of times I've said "But, in New Zealand..."?

We, or at least I, am suffering from reverse culture shock. We've been on an awesome adventure, have taken over 15,000 pictures (and that's just the count from my computer), and really want to share this with everyone we meet. (Or, at least, I do.) The downside is: not everyone cares. And I can understand that. Would I want to sit through 2000 pictures of a week in Kyoto, if it wasn't me that went? Not especially. Not that we'll inflict all 15,000 pictures on you. Just the good ones. Really.

So this reverse culture shock thing. What is it? It's this: a combination of mourning a life you left behind, with a dash of seeing your home country through new eyes, and recognizing the fact that the world, and the people in it, changed and weren't waiting for us with bated breath until we came home. It's a bit of disillusionment at 'reality', and trying to adapt to 'permanence' again.

So if we (meaning me) are kind of wonky for a while, just have patience with us. Maybe feign interest in an adventure or two, and ooh and ahh over a picture. We're happy to be home, and we're happy to see all of you again. Just... be a little patient for a while.

And in other words:

Voltron! All grown up!

At the Happiest Place on Earth (Yes, I have a pass again. Who wants to go?)

Miley, who loves riding in the car.

Pictures trickle in

2008-05-01T10:50:00.003-07:00

So we're still recovering on the homefront, and learning to live with a dog (maybe I don't want one after all), but until we blog about that, here's some pictures to keep you entertained:

Mackay, Australia
Japan
Cairns and the Great Barrier Reef

More to come later!

Home

2008-04-24T22:24:00.000-07:00

Who would've known that the sight of traffic at 11 in the morning on the 405 would be one of the most beautiful sights I've ever seen? Closely followed by the taco/enchilada combo at El Sombrero #2?

Home. I've missed you. God, I love LA.

The last En Zed post

2008-04-23T04:08:00.002-07:00

So. It's been fourteen months, and the months have been good and all that, but, well, I'm afraid I'm gonna have to do this. Y'know, we're kinda growing apart, and while it's been fun, there are some things standing in the way. Y'know: visas, books being too expensive, no iced tea... You're a great city and we've had a really nice time. Your parks are beautiful. You've got cows in CBD. And there was that chicken on View Road. Your air's clean and your weather, well... we won't go into that.

It's been good, Auckland. It's been real good. We'll miss you. We'll miss you a lot. How can you not miss having a volcano in your backyard with an amazing view? How can you not miss counting cows and tourists dodging cows from your window?

Someday, I dunno. We'll come back. We'll definitely come back. But, unfortunately, for now I've got to say haere ra. We farewell you. And we leave parts of us here with you and take parts of you home with us (not literally, don't send the taniwha after us). But thank you for sheltering us and bringing us visions of a green city (with trees! It has trees!) and having cafes and movie theaters and cool restaurants within walking distance. Thank you for the wacky dealings of En Zed Post, and our flat, and the jobs and the opportunities and the $3 Japan shop on Queen Street. We won't forget the harbour, and Rangitoto, and taking every ferry down at Viaduct.

It's been a great fourteen months. And we'll never forget you, Auckland. I promise you that. And someday, we may even forgive your lack of viable Mexican food options.

LA? Guess what! We're coming home!

Geisha, Geiko, Maiko and Gaijin

2008-04-22T15:18:00.006-07:00

As I understand it, here's a gross simplification of Japanese history. Before the shogun, the samurai lords warred upon each other. When the shogun came into power, he banned these petty wars. Then, everyone had way too much time on their hands and started embroidering, lacquering and generally making everything from clothing to architecture really, really fancy. Again, just my interpretation. But it does explain a lot, when you think about it. Especially something as iconic as the geisha.

When you're in Kyoto, you have to visit Gion. You'll know Gion by the bright red lanterns everywhere.

It's not the main street you want, though. You want to dart down the side alleys that lie off of Hanami-koji, in the narrow lanes lined with expensive restaurants and tea houses. And the occasional 'love hotel' that rents rooms by the hour. That's when you know you've gone too far south. Here in Gion is where the geisha live and work in their hanamachi, or 'flower town'.

You may see geisha - the full-fledged, fully-vested entertainers and general Renaissance women. You may see maiko, geisha in training, in their more elaborate makeup and kimono. Or you might see some tourists (Gaijin (foreigners) included), tripping in their geta (traditional wooden sandals). Etiquette says that you don't take pictures of the geisha or the maiko, especially not without asking.

When you see the geisha, it's hard to remember that they're just women and not dolls. Even in this day and age, they're still a mystery, to both gaijin and Japanese alike. They're elegant and ornate and graceful lines, mimicking the same elaborate traditions of Japanese architecture. You might even say that they're a reminder of a bygone day--the weight of their traditions, the intimate detail of the makeup, dress, the walk, the gestures. It speaks of an era when there was time to put so much loving detail into everything, from roof tiles to the embroidery on an obi. These geisha, these women who wear a blank full-body mask, play a specific role in society. They're anonymous, fragile, with each movement and gesture being slow and deliberate. They're as well-ordered as the tides and currents, hovering like butterflies too delicate to touch.

Who are they? Entertainers, courtesans who don't sleep with clients, sophisticates to bring a touch of class to a gathering. It's hard to say, since I'm not Japanese, I'm not a disciplined maiko, and it's not something I'll ever understand. But there's still something alluring when you catch sight of one, like a peek into a lost world that we'll never have again.

Lions and Tigers and--oh, wait

2008-04-21T00:38:00.011-07:00

We didn't see snakes (well, except that one in the fuse box in Mackay). We didn't see spiders anywhere except in webs. We didn't see scorpions or get stung or eaten by sharks or jellyfish. But we did see these fantabulous critters of the Outback:

kangaroos
rock kangaroos
perentie
hopping spinifex mouse
dingo
wedge-tailed eagle
platypus
camels (wild)
horses (wild)
rosellas
emu
road trains
various birds, etc.

And some pictures to prove it:

Platypus (so small)

Camel

Perentie

Wedge-tailed Eagles (and squashed kangaroo)

There was also that rare miniature tree koala, but, well, we can't talk about those. It's ranger business. Japan, well, most of the animals we saw were fish in the Osaka Aquarium, so they probably don't count. I can assure you that every single one of these pictures was taken of animals in the wild. Hence, the wedge-tailed eagles eating the kangaroo. The wedge-tailed, btw, is Australia's largest bird of prey. (Still smaller than the Haast Eagle in En Zed, which used to carry off Maori children and take down giant moa.)

In short: Aussie wildlife kicks ass.

At the sound of the tortured cow

2008-04-18T04:16:00.002-07:00

The Kiwi family lives in the 'country'. Well, in a country-ish town where people have cows in their backyards. The Kiwi family themselves have four cows. The next field over, however, has what I'll call 'the tortured cow', who seems to enjoy mooing at all hours of the day or night, braying it's going to die/bored out of its mind/really just wants companionship.

The point? Nothing really. Just that someone's torturing a cow nearby and it's been going on since Tuesday.

Tim will miss the cows. I'm...ambivalent.

En Zed Farewells Us

2008-04-15T02:58:00.003-07:00

You forget that, with going home, comes saying goodbye. We were going to try to get together with Ceillhe and Neill, our kayaking and Marae Time friends and whanau, but it's just not in the cards. They were the ones who gave us family back, that weekend at the marae. Like all folk, they're busy with their lives as we're busy with ours. And as there's people we didn't say goodbye to at home, there's those we won't get to farewell here.

Don’t say,
We have come now to the end.
White shores are calling.
You and I will meet again.

Richard Bach says (remember Jonathan Livingston Seagull?), "Don't be dismayed by good-byes. A farewell is necessary before you can meet again. And meeting again, after moments or lifetimes, is certain for those who are friends."

Your lives didn't stop. Neither did ours. We grew, you grew, and we're coming back to you to meet again. Our Kiwi family, our whanau, even our Aussie family (hi Mia and Mum!), won't see us for a while, and we'll grow apart from them to. And all we can hope, on this flipside of February 2007, is that we do meet again. And that we can all welcome each other and scream "Kia ora! How ya goin'?" Since, y'know, we will come back. We still have to see Perth. And do the Tongariro Crossing. And find Paradise one more time.

We have come to journey's end

2008-04-11T03:22:00.002-07:00

It's starting to hit--the fact that we have to go back. And what going back entails. I wanted to go home for so long that I forgot what it meant: finding a new flat, getting a job, settling into a new life that was 'real' again. I'll have to turn in my temp kiwi badge and become a 'real' American again.

As long as there was the possibility of school (note: waitlisted, will know 'more' on the 15th), there was the chance of postponing reality. And I still want to avoid it as much as possible, because, as mundane as En Zed's been, I still accomplished all my goals. I saw the islands from tip to tip. I skied. I taught. I wrote that novel. I even more or less kept both a written and photo blog of the whole journey (note: Japan/Aussie photos coming soon). I learned to pay bills, be self-sufficient and travel for weeks at a time. I lived without regular tv programming and buying books for 14 months.

I cried a lot. I yelled. I cussed. I took the bus, walked 39 km and carried my world on my back. And I'm terrified to have to leave this temporary life. Because I've known how and when it was going to end for over a year now. And that date is less than two weeks away.

And that's it; I'm back in that spot of not knowing what'll happen until I touch down in LAX two weeks from today. And I Have to learn to treat my whole life as a phase, a temporary period, to be flexible to take what comes and enjoy it to the fullest.

ASU may or may not pan out. If not, there are options. There are things, people waiting for me at home that I get to meet all over again: nieces, puppies, new babies and spouses, celebrations and parties. There's a whole year of love I missed and saved up, and that alone makes the year worth it.

And gives me the courage to go back. To come back.

Home.

The last days of Australia

2008-04-08T00:45:00.004-07:00

We leave tomorrow for the big En Zed, and we literally have two weeks until we head home. Not that we're in denial about that. In fact, more on that later. But for now, some of the last images (familiar and not) of Australia:

My new camel friend sharing a sneeze

Tim, driving a train. Really. I swear.

The scary Mr. Moon clown who will haunt my nightmares, and the sole reason Tim wanted to go to St. Kilda's

Frodo, defending the Tall Tropical Passion Tea Latte (no sugar added) - Aussie even has freakin' Coffee Bean

24 April, 2008

2008-03-31T01:00:00.000-07:00

Qantas carries us home.

See you soon.

Big. Red. Rock.

2008-03-26T23:30:00.002-07:00

We saw the Rock. Yes, the rock that everyone goes to see in the outback. Uluru, aka Ayers Rock, aka that big red rock. What can I say? It's big. It's red. It's the world's oldest still-functioning place of worship. 20,000 years of worship has been occurring there. How's that for cultural significance? And it's a really big fucking red rock. Did I mention big? It just kind of...towers over you.

But there's more to the outback than that. Kata Tjuta, King's Canyon, Ormiston Pound... I can't describe them all. In any case, here's some (small) photos to tide you over til we upload the big photo dump to flicker...

Uluru

Easter Sunrise

King's Canyon and our tour group through Wayoutback Tours

Kata Tjuta, or the Olgas (which look like Homer Simpson lying down from far away).

Ormiston Pound, a huge gorge

The red center

2008-03-20T22:08:00.002-07:00

We've left the rainforest and reef of Cairns behind for the Red Center, Alice Springs. Tomorrow we embark on a 5 day driveabout around Uluru, Kings Canyon, the West McConnells and some other places out here in the middle of the outback. We haven't seen rain in two days. I think it's a new record.

So, the outback. It's red. But it's not as empty as you'd think. First off, there's a town here. And there's people in it. There's also a US army base, with about 2000 CIA personnel who are ~~spying~~ gardening for a living. No, really, that's what they say. They're 'gardeners'.

Somewhere around here is that giant rock that we seek, Uluru, aka Ayers Rock, aka that big-ass rock that was on that cartoon about those koalas, Pinky and Blinky, on Nickelodeon twenty years ago (koala-wala land?). Can't see much of the desert from Alice, since we're surrounded by the McConnells range, but we went to the Desert Park. Quite cool, quite informative, and quite deserted on this Good Friday. Yup, Good Friday's a public holiday here, so the whole place shuts down. It's great, really.

I think we're about halfway into our trip. In about a month, we should be state-side. Still don't have our tickets, but we will get them soon.

And no, no word on ASU. At this point, I'm guessing I'm waitlisted, since both rejection and acceptance letters have gone out and Kara hasn't heard jack.

So, until Wednesday, we wish you Happy Easter, Happy Spring, and see you soon.

Random images from travels

2008-03-18T03:38:00.002-07:00

Just to share a couple more images from the past couple weeks:

Tim and his new horse friend, Stoney Creek, Queensland

Kara, a dog, and a swimming hole on a hot afternoon. Stoney Creek, Queensland

Himeji Castle, Japan. There are no words to describe this incredible 400 year old fortress.

Yup, Tim's a little taller than the old Japanese monks were...

An 18 year record, blown

2008-03-16T19:21:00.002-07:00

As many people know, Kara doesn't puke. Ever. Except for those three times in her life (in Kristin's hair, on the way to the dentist, and that time at the Dodger game when she was 11). Well, now we can add times four and five.

We flew back from Japan into a wet and rainy Cairns. We went from wet and rainy Cairns on choppy waters to the Great Barrier Reef. For three days, we lived aboard a small sailboat (of the smuggler design) with ten other people. And on day one, Kara chundered over the side and fed the fishes. Twice.

By the way, that Mythbusters episode, where they explored sea-sickness remedies? Totally true. I ate ginger all weekend, and eventually felt better. Except now I hate the taste of candied ginger.

In any case, we found Nemo, we saw huge fish in all shapes and colors, and Tim even got to do his first scuba dive in real water (it was confirmed that Kara would never dive, thanks to shitty sinuses). We spoke French, we hung out with some Quebecois and a German, and we reminisced about Japan (and potentially formulated a backup plan to Kara Not Getting In To ASU - Still no word). Now, we're up in the Atherton Tablelands (with real wireless!) and just hanging out to avoid the rain of Cairns and the flooded lowlands.

As proof that we were at the reef:

It's good to be back on dry land. It would be better to hear from ASU, but that's okay...

To squat or not to squat

2008-03-09T22:36:00.002-07:00

First off, everything you've heard about Japanese toilets is correct. And wrong. Yes, there are squat toilets everywhere. But, usually at the tourist attractions and train stations, they'll also have one lone 'western style' toilet.

Yes, the toilets here are heated, and will wash and dry you. They have more buttons on them than my DVD player. There's even female and male settings. And the water is warm. But these toilets are usually just in restaurants and hotels, not at the tourist places or at the train station.

And yes, bring your own toilet paper. Just in case. Some places don't have it. Or they have a machine where you can buy it outside the bathroom.

Squatting, also, isn't as hard as it sounds. Just hold on to the handle. And the stall is a lot cleaner than you think--cleaner than most toilets I've seen in the US.

And yeah, the Japanese tend to automatically point the gaijin toward the Western-style toilets. It's kind of fun to boggle their minds by using the squat ones though.

And if anyone can tell me why there's a urinal in the ladies' room, I'll be most grateful. And yes, it really was the ladies' room. I checked.

Japan is stunning, wonderful, ornate, brilliant, detailed, and oh my god. And if I think of any other adjectives, I'll let you know.

800+ pictures so far of four days in Japan...

A taste of Nihon

2008-03-07T05:44:00.002-08:00

HOMG, We:re in JAPAN!

2008-03-06T05:48:00.002-08:00

Did you know that not all ATMs in Japan have an English language option? And that apparently the keyboards have an odd layout? Pardon my lack of apostrophes, I can:t find them. But if you:d like some hiragana, I can provide that.

Funny, how the hiragana doesn:t actually seem to match up with the Roman letters on the keyboard. The hiragana for ku is on the h key. The mind boggles.

Anyhow: first impressions of Japan. I feel tall! Pollution as we came in. Lots of lights, since it:s night-time. Some people speak 'sukoshi'English (and hey, I found the apostrophe!), so their little English and my 'sukoshi Nihongo' might actually make for decent communication skills. Except when you're tired and you just want to get to the damn hotel, but no taxis to get to the damned hotel and it's a 3km walk and taxis ｏｎｌｙ take cash and you can't find a bloody ATM that actually speaks English...

So, yes. We're enjoying Japan. We had takoyaki (octopus balls), and they were damn good. We're in Kyoto for four nights, and then have two nights in Osaka. And that's all my brain can think of.

And no word from ASU yet. Sorry.

Konban wa! (Or is it 'Oyasuminasai'?)

Not home right now...

2008-03-04T02:25:00.002-08:00

Apparently you can get called for jury duty when you're out of the country. Oops, sorry, LA County, can't fill my obligation this year. Try again next year. Unless I'm in AZ. I even got the good courthouse too, LA Airport. So much better than Compton, which is run down and too far to drive. At least the downtown courthouse has Little Tokyo for lunch.

In Cairns, off to Japan in two days. The Whitsundays coast is raining and suffering from flooding, so I can't wax poetic about the reef yet. We did, however, spend three kick-ass days on a farmstay, where we rode horses and went swimming in the creek and played with dogs. We also saw a platypus and a kangaroo in Eungulla National Park. So we've seen rainforest. And rain. And forest. And in two days, konnichiwa!

In short: Aussie is hot, humid, and rainy, and vaguely reminds me of Hawaii/Texas. Interesting. And next week, we might find Nemo when we do our reef dive.

In Australia. Yawn.

2008-02-27T17:31:00.000-08:00

After waking up at 4:45 this morning and braving the second-to-last trip through En Zed customs and passport control, we made it to Australia. Currently in Brisbane, waiting for flight to Mackay. I think it leaves in two hours. Hard to tell, with the whole 'what timezone am I in?' game playing in my head. But! I'm drinking iced tea. So life is good. Even if we still have one more two and a half hour flight today. (Groan.)

G'day, Mate!

2008-02-26T16:47:00.002-08:00

We're off to Aussie! Be back for brekkie!

(Smoke me a kipper, I'll be back for breakfast?)

Itinerary:

First week: Mackay up to Cairns
Second week: Kyoto and Osaka (yes, I know that's in Japan)
Third week: Cairns/Great Barrier Reef
Fourth Week: Outback/Uluru/Adelaide
Fifth Week: Adelaide to Melbourne

We're back in En Zed on April 9th, living in the land of Kiwi for two ish more weeks. Then, sometime around April 25th, we should be HOME!!!

(And no, Kara hasn't heard about school yet.)

Next update... who knows?

Auckland, we farewell you

2008-02-24T15:01:00.002-08:00

We have farewelled our bed.

We have farewelled my boxing gear.

We have farewelled both desks (gone to the great curb in the sky).

Today, we farewell our flat and Auckland.

On Thursday, we farewell New Zealand.

But, on farewelling New Zealand, we get to say:

G'DAY, AUSSIE!

and

KONNICHIWA, NIHON!

*Kara as Ed, from anime Full Metal Alchemist. Hey! It's the closest thing I have to a pic from Japan...*

And then, some time around Anzac Day, we'll be heading back to those good old Yankee skies. Do I miss Auckland yet? Ask me tomorrow, when I don't smell of bleach and vinegar and dust from cleaning the flat...

(Psst, last big photo dump from En Zed: Dunedin/Catlins/Otago.)

Somebody stop me

2008-02-19T11:52:00.002-08:00

Every day, I check:

gradcafe.net
LJ's applying_to_grad community
My application status on ASU's website

Someone stop me. The status is not going to change overnight, nor will it change while I watch the pot. An answer will come when I'm in the middle of the Australian Outback, with no internet access.

I hate this time of year. I really do. Because I need more stress in my life.

(How you doin'?)

From the Routeburn Track Files of Mrs. K. L. Maloney

2008-02-17T18:56:00.003-08:00

(Can you believe that Tim, as a child growing up in New York City, never read From the Mixed Up Files of Mrs. Basil E Frankwiler? I thought that was required reading, along with Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing. Maybe not.)

So, yes. Taken directly from my end of the day notes on the track.

Routeburn Day One
Started out with rain. What a surprise. Ended up with clouds that drifted into sun. Expecting rain tomorrow morning though, just as we hit the saddle.

Up with a pack is different than just up. It requires rests every 5-10 steps and uttering 'fuck' at anything and everyone. Packs make a swing bridge wing more too. You fantasize about what you can leave behind. Do I really need food and a sleeping bag?

We estimated four hours ish of hiking. My feet hurt. Shoulders and back, not so bad. The hut's tons better than expected, with flush toilets and comfy bunks. We even have our own little compartment of two bunkbeds to ourselves.

Hut's not too crowded. Passed a few people heading down, but we were some of the last of the early crop up this afternoon. No big, I'd rather pace myself than have a coronary after being first. Wind is chilly, views are gorgeous. Can't quite describe it except as one of the Greatest Walks in the world. Certainly can't beat the scenery, even if I hated everyone and the world on the way up.

Routeburn Day Two

Day Two--the hardest day. 11.8 km, in the rain and the wind and the up and walking through streams. It was insane. And cold and wetter than I've ever been before. Rain pants only work for so long, and mine were done in by the time we reached the Saddle. You just go up and over and up into these clouds until you see Lake Harris and the 5,000 waterfalls that spill out of it. And that was just the first 1.5 hours.

After the Saddle, it was down-up-down through streams, under waterfalls (whoo! Shower!) and just endless weaving in the clouds. We saw Gunn Camp down in the Hollyford Valley. And we could see the Hollyford River. Pictures were moot after the camera started getting wet. And the cell phone may be dead. Oops.

We got to the Mackenzie Valley eventually and saw the hut taunting us from the valley floor. An hour after weaving through trees dripping with green and moss like the ends should be there, we finally got to the hut. And the sun came out.

There were a couple times on the trail today when I either wanted to quit or thought I'd die (crossing a rushing stream). My shoulders are a little bit sore, and my blister broke again, but today was definitely worth it. And the worst is over. It's all down hill from here!

Routeburn Day Three

If Day One was hard because of steepness and the pack, and Day Two was oh my god it's beautiful/steep/I've never been so wet, Day Three was "Oh, Fuck," up, are we there yet, endless winding on a rocky path, calves aching, oops, Tim fell and twisted his ankle. Where the hell's the hut? What if we just push straight through and go home a day early?

Tim's ankle swelled up, so I hoofed it the 1.5 hours up Key Summit on my own. It was indescribable, like much of the trip. 360 degree panoramic views, set in a 30 minute nature walk. Yeah, it was switchbacks from hell to get there, but the path was dry. My blistered blisters appreciated that. But it was tempting just to walk the other 45 minutes to the Divide and end the damn track. It's been fun, but my calves and feet hurt, I'm tired, and I want a real shower. Not getting pissed on by a waterfall. Pizza! We know exactly where we're going once we hit Te Anau.

But at least we're 3.8 km from the end. We're almost done! And I'll be so happy.

Routeburn Day Four

Day Four started up and ended down. Literally, that long leisurely stroll the brochure had promised. Funny how the brochure left out a lot of information about the track: not all the ups and downs, the rocks, the trail that becomes the stream, waterfalls you walk under…

We made it down to the Divide, took pictures, caught the early shuttle Te Anau. Civilization never looked (or tasted) so good. We showered, had pizza, napped, did laundry. Being clean really does change your outlook on life.

So while we're back in civilization, I still wish we'd taken time to see the stars (too tired at night) or hear the bird song (no birds). All in all, it was the grand adventure that I'd wanted, and a great achievement. My calves will forgive me eventually. And I've got the tshirt and patch to prove it.

The story of the car we thought we owned

2008-02-16T23:10:00.003-08:00

This is a true story. And shows you both the good and bad side of life in En Zed.

So, back in March of last year, we bought our car. We got it from Auto King, an Automobile Association-recognized dealer. We payed for it, we filled out some form, we got a receipt. They promised they'd send us the paperwork, and we drove away. That day, we called State Insurance and insured the car. No worries.

Six months passed, and it was time for the Warrant of Fitness. The car passed, no worries. We'd have to get another WOF before we sold the car, since they're only good for six months.

Fastforward to last weekend, when we finally got around to asking Allie, so, what paperwork do you need to sell the car? Because, y'know, we don't have any paperwork.

Well, you need a certificate of ownership (oops) and to make sure your registration hasn't expired.

Registration?

Yeah, that thing in the lower left corner of the windscreen.

I thought that was the WOF sticker. Oh.

So yes. Our registration on our beloved Nissan Sunny had expired back in August. The NZ Land Transport Board should've notified us that it had expired. Except we never got any paperwork on the car. No worries, we'll just call Land Transport. To find out that the car was still registered to Auto King, and Auto King had never actually filed the paperwork.

Ooops.

So we toddle down to the post shop, since the post shop doesn't just handle mail and your electric bills, but also functions as the DMV too. We asked for form MR13B and form MR127 or whatever it was. We filled out the change of ownership form and the renewal of registration form. We showed them Tim's passport. We hoped the paperwork would go through before we left, so that Allie could have a properly registered car to WOF in March, since they won't inspect the car without current registration.

And the guy at the post shop printed out our new tags at the post shop, said we'd get our certificate of ownership in the mail in a week, and everything is right in the world again. For the past eleven months, Auto King has actually been liable for our car, so if we had gotten that lapsed registration ticket, it would've been their fault. Oops. I'm half-tempted to call AA and tell them exactly what happened. AA-certified dealer, my ass.

So, all in all, the car is officially ours, and we'll be selling it in a few months. And everything is, once again, no worries.

Yes,

2008-02-14T00:02:00.003-08:00

there were flowers for Valentine's Day.

Happy Black 14th to all of those we love, and maybe some of those we don't.

(P.S. TWO WEEKS TIL WE LEAVE NEW ZEALAND, WHOOOOO!)

Routeburn Track Pictures Up

2008-02-10T23:47:00.000-08:00

http://www.flickr.com/photos/magelette/sets/72157603885471480/

No Longer Lost in the Black Chambah

2008-02-09T00:42:00.000-08:00

So Lost is back. And it's back with a vengeance. And damn those writers, because they've hooked us again to the point that Tim is again reviewing Lost theories and debunked fanon (hee, my husband speaks fandom now!) and all kinds of stuff.

If you'd like to share in the madness, let us know. We have theories. Lots of them. Except it's not purgatory. I'm still pulling for Atlantis or aliens. The little green men from X-Files had to go somewhere, and they might as well have followed Tess and the Smoking Man.

As a favor to a friend...

2008-02-08T17:09:00.000-08:00

Happy Birthday, Melisa!

No more mail!

2008-02-07T19:30:00.000-08:00

Just a note: please, people, no sending us anything from here on out. If you really really want to send something this way, just send it to my parents. We'll get it in May. It can wait. We literally have about two weeks left in our flat here, and knowing my issues with En Zed Post, chances are whatever you send wouldn't get here. So yeah. NO MORE MAIL!

However, if you'd like a postcard from En Zed, we *cough* seem to have acquired a two inch stack, now organized from North to South by location and animal...

Proof

2008-02-07T02:41:00.000-08:00

Four days and 39 km later...

Yes, we made it back to Auckland safe and sound. Coming next post: Kara postulates on churches, something else that seemed interesting, and maybe we'll talk about penguins.

ETA:
Why did we do it in four days? Because we thought we weren't fit enough to do it in three. Turns out we could've, but as we approached hour three on day three, Tim tripped and twisted his ankle (it's now pretty colors and kinda swollen, even a few days later). So, instead of pushing on the last four or so km to the Divide to get an earlier shuttle back to 'civilization', we stayed at Howden Hut after all and I hiked up Key Summit to catch the views. Tim hobbled his way downhill on day 4, the swelling went down, and then the swelling went back up again after three days of running around Dunedin. And that is why we did it in four days.

We made it!

2008-02-04T22:29:00.000-08:00

Pictures to follow when we're not at an internet cafe with reeeeally slow computers and no flash drives or anything. But yes. We hiked thirty-nine km in four days. And only lost a cell phone--oops--and suffered one bruised/twisted ankle. We made it! Now we must do the dance of joy.

And yeah. That's it.

And we're off!

2008-01-29T10:48:00.000-08:00

Today we fly down to Queenstown to attempt that Routeburn Track yet again. This time, lads and lasses, we will actually do it. Because we can't reschedule it again.

So, see you on the flipside in four or five days. We should be off the trail on Sunday, February 2nd, NZ time (which means sometime on Saturday for all of you). Keep us and our aching feet in your thoughts!

Read more about the Routeburn Track, one of En Zed's nicest Great Walks!

More pictures!

2008-01-27T15:13:00.001-08:00

We're almost caught up. And we'll try to actually get a write-up on some of these before or after the Routeburn.

Northland (Kerikeri, Paihia, Waitangi)
Kayaking at Puhoi and in Auckland Harbour

Just need to post Rangitoto and more Tiritiri and we're good!

Give us your tired, your poor, your wet and snowy masses...

2008-01-27T00:28:00.000-08:00

Remember all that rain we kept talking about? Well, it's gone.

And it's been replaced with this:

And this:

And this:

So, dear friends and family who are dealing with tornado warnings and storms and 5 gabazillion feet of lake-effect snow, we sent you warm thoughts of the sun beating down on you, still afternoons with your feet in the cold water of the ocean, salty sea breezes and not a cloud in the sky.

We appreciate it, believe me. Especially since we tackle the Routeburn Track on Thursday, and we really don't want snow at Harris Saddle. In the equivalent of July, or maybe even August. We did hike up Mt. Eden with our full packs today though. Not too bad, as long as you don't think about doing that for four to six hours straight for four days...

It's kind of apropos that our time in En Zed ends in summer. It's like those summers from when you were a kid, stretching seemingly-endlessly into the night. Summer's coming to an end, and so's our time here.

And the best part is? It'll be summer when we get home.

Drive-by blogging

2008-01-23T12:51:00.001-08:00

Quick update for pics:

Waipu Highland Games
Whangarei, Northland

Tim was on a 5.5 hour conference call this morning (started at 4 am). I'm glad my teaching eval was yesterday and not today.

This weekend: Tiritiri with Kiwi family, Auckland Heritage Weekend. Maybe finally get the rest of the pics, etc. up.

Gahh, tired.

Haere mae ki Ngunguru Marae

2008-01-18T20:39:00.000-08:00

Haere mae. Haere mae. Haere mae. Tena kotou katoa.

Welcome. Welcome. Welcome. Hello to all. These were the first words we heard when we arrived at Ngunguru Marae for a Marae Time weekend back in October. It was a cultural introduction weekend, bringing us into the daily life at a contemporary Northland Maori marae (say that five times fast), organized by the wonderful people at Time Unlimited. We experienced flax weaving, preparing (and eating) a hangi, Maori stick games, learned a couple songs in Maori (including one about a whale, complete with hand gestures), tried to play a koauau (Maori flute) and just generally hung out with the locals.

That's the technical definition of our weekend. The actual definition? The best, most real impression? The weekend was hanging out with family. Our family. A family. Every family. For one weekend, we were part of an extended family again, complete with siblings, cousins, little kids running around, kitchen and bathroom chores, and a whole hellofa lotta food. Food coming out the ears. And fry bread. Maori fry bread is my new love.

What did we learn? Appreciation and wonder for Maori mythology (I'll tell you someday, I swear). Appreciation for the wonders of the hangi, kind of like a luau. But not. Because the animal's cut up before you throw it in the ground with hot stones, and it's surrounded by kumara and pumpkin and potatoes and other veggies. I found out I was pretty good at flax weaving. We both managed to produce respectable squawks on the koauaua. Neither of us have any coordination for stick games. And Frere Jacques sounds exactly the same in German, French, English and Dutch.

It was a multicultural weekend, since we went with a group of Germans, Swedes, Dutch, Japanese, Canadians and us two token Americans. Oh, and Ian the Kiwi from IEP (our visa sponsors). It was a family weekend, because the Maori that we met were the family of Ceillhe, co-founder/owner/person of Time Unlimited. We even managed to find personal ties, since Te Warahi (Ceillhe's cousin and reknowned Maori sculptor) told me about the Tarara, the Croatians who settled in the Whangarei area to help harvest the kauri gum. The local Maori called them Tarara because of the way they talked: ta-rara-rara-rara. And if anyone's ever heard my relatives speak Croatian, they know that's one bit of truth...

What can I say about the weekend? It was the first time that I felt like I was part of a family again. It introduced me to the incredibly rich heritage that Maori share. And it made me want to learn more about this heritage. The food was excellent, and Tim and I almost went on the next Marae weekend this weekend. Except that we kind of needed to do laundry, and a weekend at home is always nice too.

So yeah. Pictures. Marae Weekend. Not an exciting experience, but a good one. Almost a spiritual one, I suppose.

Hoist the colours high...

2008-01-12T00:12:00.000-08:00

I got a very special birthday present this year: a five hour sail on the tall ship Soren Larsen. The Soren Larsen is a 50 year old wooden tall ship, once a cargo ship sailing the waters of Europe. Her port is now Auckland Harbour, where you can do both daysails and overnight sails to places as far as Easter Island. And yes, we were tempted. Believe me.

So, back in December, we got our sail. I didn't take too many pictures of the harbour. Been there, done that. But the ship... We couldn't climb the rigging that day, because she was as crowded as she could be with about 90 passengers on board. But we could still climb fore and aft and down below as we liked, and enjoyed a nice lunch to boot. And cake. We like cake.

What can I say? "The salty sea air, the wind blowing in your face. Ahh, it's a perfect day to be at sea." Prince Eric said it so well in "The Little Mermaid." Or even harken back to an earlier time, and the wisdom of Kermit the Frog:

... Have you been half asleep? And have you heard voices?
I've heard them calling my name.
... Is this the sweet sound that calls the young sailors?
The voice might be one and the same

If you've ever wanted to run away to sea, try to find one of these old beauties and go for a sail. You'll get a taste of the life you've missed, and you'll come away with the blister-burned hands to prove it. Of course we coiled rope and tied knots and hoisted sails. We didn't swab the deck, but one small deckhand decided to 'help'. It was a great trip, and I wish I could say more that wouldn't sound like utter cheese.

Check out the pictures They speak for themselves.

***

Also, pictures from:

Christmas are up. Next: New Year's Eve, the Waipu Scottish Games, and kayaking!

Topics Kara needs to talk about/pictures we need to post

2008-01-11T11:52:00.000-08:00

Yeah. I'm behind. I'm backlogged. I have pictures from eons ago and things to talk about that I've forgotten about. So this list is just a placeholder.

I will talk about:

The marae trip
Christmas
The Soren Larsen
Kayaking

Not now, obviously, but soon. I promise.

Legs are flaking and peeling and looking less like a leprosy victim. I'm thrilled. Tim is fine. And all that stuff. So yeah.

Kara, the red-nosed Kiwi...

2008-01-06T01:17:00.000-08:00

What do Temporary Kiwis do to celebrate 2008? They take a 3 day roadtrip up to Northland, including a visit to En Zed's birthplace in Waitangi and seeing a mass highland fling at the Waipu Highland games, and then they go on a two-day kayak-fishing-camping trip. We caught no fish, but Kara's nose, knees and toes are now burning with sun(burn). Ahh, the life of the near-albino...

So we have survived into 2008 and are now in final countdown to Goodbye En Zed. Wow. Has it been more than ten months already?

Pictures and more write-ups eventually. Still feeling the reel and roll of the kayak...

Happy New Year from Northland!

2008-01-01T10:24:00.000-08:00

Well, Northland down south. *g* For New Years, the Temporary Kiwis fled the rains of Auckland for the sunny skies of the winterless Northland (that little fingerbit of land sticking on top of Auckland). And it's been beautiful.

So, sunny skies to you, and best of wishes and luck, and we'll see you in five months!

Pining for the fjords

2007-12-27T13:08:00.000-08:00

This is Polly Kea:

He is a New Zealand alpine parrot, living high in the Southern Alps.

He wants to eat parts of your car.

He is also pining for the fjords.

A fjord is is a long, narrow estuary with steep sides, created in a glacially carved valley that is filled by rising sea water levels. In En Zed, there are something like 17 fjords, or 'sounds', as they are misnomered.

We Temporary Kiwis visited two of these sounds: Doubtful and Milford. And there's really no way to describe them except: whoa.

Pictures can't do it justice because you don't understand the scale. You're on a boat that's maybe 50 feet high. The walls of the fjord, scraped out by glacial action thousands of years ago, tower over you for hundreds, and thousands of feet. The highest peaks rise 4500 feet above the waterline, not counting the 1200 or so feet of water below you.

And we kayaked through one of these. If you want to feel small, go kayaking in a fjord. Try not to think about how far you'd have to go for your feet to touch the bottom of the valley, or how high you'd have to reach to get to the sky. How isolated this area is, where roads inward were completed only half a century ago.

But think of the silence, of swimming with penguins in the waters, of the overwhelming hugeness of nature. Of the few sand beaches that disappear when the tide comes in, and potentially sweep your lunch out to sea. Of the wind that carries you sailing across the narrow valleys. Of fighting your way through the same wind, the breakers, trying to strike for the opposite side of a valley that's wider than it looks.

This is why Polly Kea pines for the fjords. This is why Pinky keeps screeching such a funny word. This is why everyone should visit Fiordland and just see what it's all about.

Perspective. And scale. And the thought: is that it?

Just don't get too close to the fur seals. They might try and eat you.

Beginning to smell a lot like Christmas...

2007-12-23T13:30:00.000-08:00

Pie crust is tucked away in the fridge, a pumpkin's roasting in the oven, we're about to run to the dairy to get more milk since I kind of used a lot of it for cereal this morning...

And when we put new batteries in our little fiber-optic tree, it glowed as bright as any that graced the Larson-Maloney households in the past. And hey, I found a camera in my stocking! (So that's where I put it...)

While we're far away and missing you all terribly, we're thinking of you, our family, and all the good memories of Christmases and holidays past. And we're keeping busy so that we don't cry into the pie crust again. (It was the onions I chopped last night, really.)

So Merry early Christmas Eve, Happy Holidays, and much Temporary Kiwi love to everyone from far away. We'll be with you next Christmas. And you'll probably hear from us repeatedly over the next few days...