Max-stravaganza

They were the most exciting 16 days of my life. That may sound unnecessarily superlative, but when I look back on them, they warrant the title. Being back in the comforts of my cubicle-sized dorm room, it's good to see that things haven't changed too much. The sun still sets in the west. The Dodgers are still a few games out of the postseason. And Edgar Stiles is still dead. And another fact that remains ever true is that "Dan" from cafeabroad.com (Keep up the boycott, loyal fans) continues to win gold medals at the Special Olympics. In response to my article on caving and skiing (as seen below), he busted out the old compliment sandwich . And I quote: You have a really quirky style that makes for good 1st person narratives. Our travel journalists do a lot more 3rd person stuff and has more of a polished feel. I offered you the representative position because you have talent but it needs work. For example the lede in your story you buried, it's actually:

Well, in less than twelve hours, I'm heading off to the south island for 16 days of fun and excitement. I'd reveal more details, except that I know that my mother reads this blog and any mention of "danger" or "peril" or "girls with low self esteem" would reinforce her hypochondria. So instead, I'll just say that I look forward to proving that I'm not a chicken during these next two weeks. Sadly, this means that I'll be taking a 16 day break from the 'Stravaganza. Have no fear, I'll be back in no time with plenty more stories to tell. In the meanwhile, I offer you this piece that I just wrote for "Dan" at cafeabroad.com. So back on the Cafe Abroad front, my protestacular has progressed nicely. I wrote the following article in hopes that "Dan" will reconsider hiring me for the position of travel journalist. Well, if I don't get this job, Peter Gammons will look back on "Dan's" decisio

Say what you will about the Grease Soundtrack, but Olivia Newton-John really sings her heart out in "Hopelessly Devoted to You." Moving on... It's a beautiful day in Auckland. Sunny in the morning, rainy at night. Sky of blue and sea of green. It's such a great city that I'd love to see more of it. And what better way than to run 24 miles around downtown? The Auckland Marathon is coming up on the 28th of October. This gives me 66 days to train. The first guy who ran a marathon passed out and died. That being said, I should probably start practicing. I'm considering using the Barney Stinson guide to running a marathon. Step One: You start running. There is no step two. I come from a family of chronic knee pain. Mom had knee surgery. Dad recently had knee surgery. One more knee surgery and we get a free small drink with any combo meal. So if I wreck mine in the process, at least I know of a capable surgeon that takes our insurance. It's als

That whole "Study" part of the study abroad experience gets overlooked like the ugly friend at a bachelorette party. I'm taking four classes right now, none of which really match up to what CMC would offer. And for the past few weeks I haven't given that much thought to them...except now I've got three projects due next week. So you know what that means: procrastinate with the blog. First off, we've got the Language of Film. This is one of the largest classes that the university offers...since there are tons of incoming students who have been deluded into believing that they're going to be the next Peter Jackson and win multiple Oscars. I'd make fun of them more if I weren't one of them myself. There are about 350 students in this lecture hall and there are three different rotating lecturers. The first is a skinny American woman, whose only credential (it seems) is that she's American. She gives you your bare bones, definition lectures

I think there's a woodpecker loose in the dorms. Either that, or the girl who lives next door has a new boyfriend. Whatever the cause, I keep hearing "thud thud thud" when I go to bed. I've found that a lot of people in my dorm have the name "Max." I suppose that twenty some odd years ago, a whole bunch of mothers independently thought that "Max" would be a kick-ass name. Either that, or the people who write baby naming books decided to play a trick on everyone, since it's also the most popular name for dogs in the USA. It's a good, solid name. Short and to the point. And unlike other tough, monosyllabic names like Bruce and Lance, the gay community hasn't corrupted "Max." The name is part of a brotherhood with such prestigious members as Planck, Factor, Hodge, Schmeling, and Payne. And if used correctly, it can get you into exclusive parties at Ed Begley Jr's house. But if people are going to start differentiati

So I've got this roommate. Although technically, we're more like flatmates. We both have single rooms, connected by a kitchenette. For the first time in college, I have my own room. But this isn't to say that His name is Suffain. Or Suffein. Or possibly Snuffleupagus. Whatever his name is, I just call him "Buddy." This may be why he's constantly rolling his eyes and saying "It's pronounced ---" But I just stop listening at this point and start humming the new Keith Urban single to myself (Can't get enough of "I Told You So." Classic Urban). He's a 5'7" Malaysian with a receding hairline and is currently studying English. Not the literature. More like "how to speak it." He's also a Muslim, which scared me at first. Not because I thought he was going to poison me with Anthrax or something like that. I know that not all Muslims are terrorists (just most of them). I was just worried that we&#

When I decided to study abroad in an English speaking country, some people looked at it as the cheap way out of the country. It wasn't so much a semester in another country, more like Road Rules: New Zealand. Well, after more than 5 weeks here, I've come to the conclusion that New Zealand is the Bill Paxton to America's Bill Pullman. On the exterior they may look incredibly alike, but when you look closelier, you find that they're as different as Independence Day and U-571. Firstly, New Zealand is a lot more laid back than the hustle (e.g. bustle) of the USA. People walk a little bit slower and take their time to get to work. Classes normally start 5 minutes after the posted time. Downtown Auckland is comparable to Old Town Pasadena. It's the nice, relaxed ambiance you'd find in small town America...or a medicinal marijuana clinic. They drive on the wrong side of the road down here. I really have no idea what the benefit is to having the driver's se

esIt's been raining a lot in Auckland recently, not that I mind. When I talk to people back home and hear that it's 100 degrees outside and the air conditioner is working harder than the pixilation artist on Girls Gone Wild, it doesn't bother me as much. Winter in the Southern Hemisphere ends mid-September. So I'll have two months of glorious Spring before I come back home to find...Winter. So I suppose I successfully ditched Summer and its god awful, scorching Carrie Underwood-levels of hotness. But then again, I'm still pretty pasty and haven't gotten my classic July farmer's tan. It's actually quite pleasant when you break it down. It rain starts at night, right before I go to bed so the raindrops sing me to sleep. And when I wake up, the world is sunny and dewey, like Malcolm's kid brother. It's the best of both worlds, sleeping through the bad parts. Kind of like falling asleep at a U2 concert when Bono starts sermonizing about Afr

I left for New Zealand on July 3, and arrived on the 5th. First off, the time difference is slightly strange. I lost an entire day in the flight over the Pacific. This means that I am currently 19 hours ahead of Pacific Standard Time. This makes for interesting iChat conversations, since people are always incredibly amused when they find out that I've torn an extra page off of my daily Far Side calendar. My journey into the future has served me well on several occasions. I got the last Harry Potter book before everyone else at home, and was able to spoil the living hell out of it. Dumbledore died again on page 762. Who would have thunk it? I have also been able to warn my friends against unwise action. Oh, if Darren is reading this, don't ask out the Red headed chick at work today. She's going to insist that she's not ready for an office romance and values your friendship too much to ruin it. But I have also learned about the hazards of time travel. No, thi

Okay, there are plenty of things that women can improve upon. I won't get into a long, rambling list (as I normally would) since I'm cramped for time. Instead, I'll just get to the point: All girls who are going abroad should break up with their boyfriends beforehand. Too many times (8) have I found an attractive and approachable girl, only to be immediatley crushed by a sentence beginning with the words "My boyfriend." Girl A: Wow, it looks like your steak is a little rare. Me: Yeah, real men eat their meat as red as possible, Girl A: My boyfriend once got food poisoning from eating an undercooked burger. Or Girl B: Yeah, Bobby Orr was one hell of a forward. Me: That's really cool that you know so much about hockey. Girl B: My boyfriend is our goalie. Nothing good can ever come from "My boyfriend..." sentences. It's like going up to Superman and saying "I've got this hunk of kryptonite..." Actually, "My boyfriend got tram

Holy crap, it's been forever since I've updated this thing! But I've finally decided to follow in the footsteps of my literary heroes, Creed Bratton , Katherine Spada , and Bob Loblaw , and go back to my blogging ways. My last post was back during finals week and apparently I was overwhelmed by stress since I was trying to find patterns in Ace of Base songs. Well, May 2007 was a long time ago. I was still living in the United States. The Dodgers were in first place. And Lindsay Lohan was simply just a party girl slut...not a felon. So why have I decided to start blogging again? I realized that I'm depriving the masses of all of my assorted witicisms and Simpsons references that only myself and Noah will get. Also, a big change has occurred recently. I'm studying abroad in Auckland, New Zealand. To many, New Zealand only represents Hobbits and those crappy purple countries in "Risk" that only get you 2 extra armies at the beginning of each turn.