False Alarm

So the diet's off.

Turns out that the stuff I need to be eating for the next thirteen days are expensive in the Philippines. :( Womp womp.

So I will be large and in charge for indefinitely. Cool.

In other news, I watched "The Vow" today. It was surprisingly okay. I think it might be because Rachel McAdams can do no wrong in my book. Except for "State of Play." But that might have been because I saw it during my "I dislike Ben Affleck" phase. It also made me homesick, a little.

Two weeks and four days until South Korea! Gotta start brushing up on my Korean.

Day Zero

Hello friends!

I have decided to go on "The Royal Danish Hospital Diet" otherwise called the less imitating, "The Copenhagen Diet," for the next thirteen days.

It's a very strict low calorie, high protein diet that lasts for thirteen days. It's supposed to make you lose tons of weight, while speeding up your metabolism as well. I've heard first-hand that it really works, and have read countless testimonials that say the same, so I'm quite anxious to start.

Now I realize that going on a crash/fad diet is probably NOT the greatest idea at the moment, especially after the whole eating disorder thing I put myself through not too long ago. But I've thought this through, and I assure you I'm not going to fall into a crippling depression this time around. Plus it only lasts for thirteen days, so it won't be for forever.

I've decided that today is the best day to start because of the following reasons:

1) I'm doing absolutely nothing all day, every day while I'm here in the Philippines. This means that the consequences of a low calorie diet are minimized, because I won't be anywhere else but home if I faint from hunger or something.

2) I'll have finished the diet by my last weekend here, so I can still have a going away dinner!

3) I can't do it in Korea, because I will want to EAT ALL THE FOODS.

4) I can't do it my first week back in Chicago, because I have an interview for The Kensington School the Friday after I get back, and I have to be my best.

5) Lent starts soon, so it's a pretty good time for a sacrifice.

See? All good reasons. :)

I'll weigh myself tomorrow to get a starting point. I'd like to lose at least 5 kg.

I hereby promise to document the next thirteen days to let you know that I am still alive.

xoxo

Angela

but what happened was beyond our expectation

things i'm looking forward to doing when i get back to chicago:

playing my violin
taking dance classes
going back to school
going back to gbn

just slowly

i landed on the 22nd of may, 2010. all of 34 long drive (minus big red, plus the grandmother next door), came to the airport to welcome me to new zealand. they saw me first. someone called out my name, i think it was steven. they were holding up a huge american flag. i laughed.

william was first to hold my hand, on the way to the car. he wanted theo, so henry got alvin. charlotte got a pink one named brittany. i bought them at lax. i probably should have gotten something for the adults as well, but ah.

the drive home was stunning. tamaki drive in may is mint. tamaki drive on any sunny day, i think, is mint.

mary-anne, natalie's mom, gave me a key to the spare room in her flat. she told me that that room was mine to do with whatever i pleased; anytime. she said that i shouldn't feel like i have to tell her when i'm going to be there, what i'm going to be doing, or who i'm going to be doing it with. she said that that room was mine if i needed some peace and quiet or alone time or "if i met someone, and didn't want to spend any money." i giggled politely at that, because what else can you do when a 70-something year old woman insinuates those sorts of things...

i went to my room after a cup of coffee and only planned on taking a short nap before dinner. but i ended up sleeping all the way through to the next day.

they took me to a birthday party almost as soon as i woke up and introduced me to their friends.

oh, have you met our angela? she's our new au pair. angela here is american.

that's basically how it went. every time.

the day after that was my first day on the job. i cried halfway through it. homesickness, probably. and some other sick feeling of "shit, i'm wasting my life cleaning up after these complete strangers." the homesickness went away eventually, but the second sick never did.

a week after that, the boys had their birthday party. natalie had me go around taking pictures of everything and everyone. after that, she dropped me off at britomart with her vest and mary anne's jumper and told me to walk around and get to know the city.

um.

okay, lady.

so i walked. and i walked and i walked and i walked. and i got lost fairly quickly. (except for now i know i wasn't lost at all; i walked along customs, then up queen, then around vulcan lane, down high, back up queen...)

i met my first kiwi galpals that day: bex from the french jewelry shop, and grace from the cd shop. i wandered into their shops and asked what fun thing they could recommend for me to do, and they both ended up giving me lists of cool cities to visit, kiwi bands to listen to, good bars, not so good bars...

helpful. so helpful. they gave me their phone numbers and i gave them mine. they promised they would let me know about, and bring me along to, whatever social event came up so that i could make some more kiwi friends. and they did. and they still do sometimes. :)

i was also offered weed that day, i think. i don't know. i must have said the right tourist phrase or something. i rocked up to the pipe shop to ask them the same questions i asked bex and grace, and they responded with something like, yeah well what are you after, are you looking to get so (sewww) high or just feel good?

neither. not today. but thanks for that, i'll keep you guys in mind.

natalie picked me up at the ferry building. she was so surprised that i had made friends.

um.

okay, lady.

Okay I have to at least try to write about my life as of late. Some for you, but mostly for me. Because one day, maybe years from now, or maybe tomorrow, I'm gonna want to find this. I'm gonna want to read it again. And feel it again.

So.

I drove to the big fish last weekend. And by I drove, I mean Deb drove, and by I, I mean me, Deb, Mila, and Amelie, and by the big fish, I mean to Omapere, four hours north of Auckland. So really, we drove to Omapere. But I, I was driving to the big fish.

Yes, of course it occured to me that I was putting him up on a pedestal and that I was potentially setting myself up for a devastating disappointment. I was ready for that. But the disappointment never came. A private room as promised, intimacy beyond anything I've experienced thus far, the nicest shower I've ever shared (I've never felt so clean), sweet-nothings whispered in three different languages, massages, fresh baguettes for breakfast, crepes the day after... on and on. He spoiled me. And I saw some of his goofy side too, which was perfect. (Although I would have liked to have been goofy with him, but I was too busy giggling at the show he was putting on. It was a good show.)

As the weekend progressed, though, it became less about the big fish, and more about a lot of other people, other things:

It became about Amelie. And her promise to help me make my Big French Dream a reality. And the way she waited for me. And the way she understands me, and the way I think I understand her. And when she said, "I'm glad I met you. I think we're the same," on top of those sand dunes. And how I think she's right.

It became about Frank Sinatra and how beautiful it was to find him there, and not having to wait until I got back to listen to him. And how when I started to feel regretful about leaving early again, his song "My Kind of Town" started playing. And how it just felt so good to dance.

It became about Simone, my first real Italian friend.

It became about endurance. And trying not to care about all the mud. And the things I thought to keep my mind from the walking and the walking and the walking. And surprising myself time and time again, one impossible-looking steep, no-trees-to-grab-onto, slippery-so-slippery slope, after another.

It became about the awe of Mother Nature's majesty. And the way I couldn't fucking believe that I was seeing this shit.

It became about being at the same place with different people who have lived very different lives, and us all having a fantastic time together.

It was an amazing weekend. I still can't believe I lived it.

It was hard to say goodbye to the big fish, but even harder to say goodbye to everything else. But it wasn't really goodbye. It was mostly until next time.

Bap bap bap, where to begin!

Well.

Okay;





Basically, this life just keeps getting better and better. I don't mean just this Kiwi life, no. Not necessarily. Just- THIS life. MY life. I mean, man. I'm almost at a loss for words. Almost. :)

I mean, okay, it's not to say that I haven't had my fair share of uncomfortable experiences, because you know I have. And more importantly, I know I have. BUT GUYS! My glass is so half full right now. No, actually fuck that- My glass isn't big enough right now. Everything is spilling everywhere. Give me a bigger glass.

I just speak in abstractions these days because nothing else I can say could do these feelings justice. I'm just not poetic enough to paint these pictures in my head for you, you know? All I can say is shit like GIVE ME A BIGGER GLASS.

But that's what it is, really.

I just need a bigger glass.

My kiddywinkles like The Beatles! I borrowed "Please, Please Me" from the library on Tuesday, and we've listened to the whole album about seven times now. Yesterday, Henry asked me to draw them, and then asked me who the one with glasses was. So I told him. And now they know John Lennon.




And they also know the chorus of "Sweet Home Chicago."

And to get them to tidy up, I bribe them with a dance to "Single Ladies" in my room. It works every time.

Next week, we're gonna get a Frank Sinatra cd. I can't wait.