Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Friday, June 25, 2010
Ridikiwilous
So...not only was our modem sent to the wrong address, but it was also to delivered to the wrong city.
Our (Kiwi-willing) internet provider somehow addressed our modem to the wrong address. Then the postal service decided to deliver it to the wrong city (Auckland is not even on the same island!). THEN(!) a person named Jeremey B. signed for the modem even though it was addressed to Wordy and myself.
My only explanation is that we are being hazed by the country of New Zealand.
Alright Phi Kiwi Gamma, we get it.
You have made our lives difficult for the past couple of weeks, and you have broken our Flag Waving American spirits. Shouldn't we now celebrate with Jagermeister and togas? It's been 3 weeks since The Squidd has seen his favorite YouTube video (The Elmo Duck Song) and poor Wordy just wants to check on Patrick Rothfuss' progress.
Our (Kiwi-willing) internet provider somehow addressed our modem to the wrong address. Then the postal service decided to deliver it to the wrong city (Auckland is not even on the same island!). THEN(!) a person named Jeremey B. signed for the modem even though it was addressed to Wordy and myself.
My only explanation is that we are being hazed by the country of New Zealand.
Alright Phi Kiwi Gamma, we get it.
You have made our lives difficult for the past couple of weeks, and you have broken our Flag Waving American spirits. Shouldn't we now celebrate with Jagermeister and togas? It's been 3 weeks since The Squidd has seen his favorite YouTube video (The Elmo Duck Song) and poor Wordy just wants to check on Patrick Rothfuss' progress.
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
A.I.: Almost Internet
Supposedly, our modem will arrive tomorrow and Wordy will be back in action.
This whole process has taken more than 2 weeks...I could've ridden a dolphin from Akeroa to Auckland and back again by now to pick up that modem.
One short note is that The Squidd has been chatting up (or should I say crapping up?) a storm. So far, he is not really using words. He makes a variety of sounds and sometimes they form 'unexpected' words. Turns out that the favorite sound for the week is 'sh-it.' yup...would you have expected any less from The Squidd?
This whole process has taken more than 2 weeks...I could've ridden a dolphin from Akeroa to Auckland and back again by now to pick up that modem.
One short note is that The Squidd has been chatting up (or should I say crapping up?) a storm. So far, he is not really using words. He makes a variety of sounds and sometimes they form 'unexpected' words. Turns out that the favorite sound for the week is 'sh-it.' yup...would you have expected any less from The Squidd?
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Winter is coming...for a whole year
As you can probably tell by our earlier posts, it's cold here. In fact, it's winter.
Wordy, The Squidd, and I are in the middle of experiencing our year of eternal winter. We left winter in the Northern Hemisphere only to arrive in winter in the Southern Hemisphere. This provides perspective as to whether or not we actually need summer.
Do we miss the smell of Philly in the summer? No. Mind you certain corners of Philly smell like 200 year old outhouses. Around Pine and 13th, there is a smell like no others...especially with the dive bar Dirty Frank's right there.
Do we miss the muggy, shirt-sticking afternoons of the Eastern Seaboard? Hell no.
Do we miss the season of water ice? For those of you not from Philadelphia, water ice is a summer treat that is essentially a slightly hardened over-sweetened slushy. The best water ice is at John's, but for some reason I aways felt like an idiot ordering water ice. Isn't ice solid water? I might as well be ordering water water.
OK, we don't miss certain things, but there is something to be said about warming up the bones, grilling outside, and wearing shorts. Mind you, winter does not deter Kiwis from wearing shorts. Wordy and I are still amazed by the number of Kiwis we see in shorts everyday. Perhaps, The Squidd will also acquire this superpower as well as a Kiwi accent?
Both Wordy and I are interested to see 'how Kiwi' The Squidd will go in the coming years. When The Squidd gets a little older, we hope to take him back to Philly to see where he was born...return to his roots.
I can only imagine The Squidd ordering a water ice at John's and the cashier asking, "Where are you from?" puzzled by his Kiwi accent.
"13th and Rodman," he'll say. "I am a Philadelphian, mate."
Wordy, The Squidd, and I are in the middle of experiencing our year of eternal winter. We left winter in the Northern Hemisphere only to arrive in winter in the Southern Hemisphere. This provides perspective as to whether or not we actually need summer.
Do we miss the smell of Philly in the summer? No. Mind you certain corners of Philly smell like 200 year old outhouses. Around Pine and 13th, there is a smell like no others...especially with the dive bar Dirty Frank's right there.
Do we miss the muggy, shirt-sticking afternoons of the Eastern Seaboard? Hell no.
Do we miss the season of water ice? For those of you not from Philadelphia, water ice is a summer treat that is essentially a slightly hardened over-sweetened slushy. The best water ice is at John's, but for some reason I aways felt like an idiot ordering water ice. Isn't ice solid water? I might as well be ordering water water.
OK, we don't miss certain things, but there is something to be said about warming up the bones, grilling outside, and wearing shorts. Mind you, winter does not deter Kiwis from wearing shorts. Wordy and I are still amazed by the number of Kiwis we see in shorts everyday. Perhaps, The Squidd will also acquire this superpower as well as a Kiwi accent?
Both Wordy and I are interested to see 'how Kiwi' The Squidd will go in the coming years. When The Squidd gets a little older, we hope to take him back to Philly to see where he was born...return to his roots.
I can only imagine The Squidd ordering a water ice at John's and the cashier asking, "Where are you from?" puzzled by his Kiwi accent.
"13th and Rodman," he'll say. "I am a Philadelphian, mate."
Friday, June 11, 2010
Arrival of Jeech and 'Chong
Squidd's grandparents arrived in New Zealand yesterday and as you can tell by the title of this post...my Japanese is atrocious. Not because I don't try, I just hear things differently.
Japanese 101
Grandpa = ojichan (What I hear...Jeech)
Grandma = bachan (What I hear...Bachong)
Wordy will back in the saddle writing in a few days once our internet connection starts working.
Japanese 101
Grandpa = ojichan (What I hear...Jeech)
Grandma = bachan (What I hear...Bachong)
Wordy will back in the saddle writing in a few days once our internet connection starts working.
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
Unpack Rats
On Thursday our crate from the U.S. was delivered and we have begun the arduous task of moving in and rediscovering all the little things that we haven't seen for the past two months.
Needless to say, we have been unpacking for five straight days and only now are we beginning to see a light at the end of the tunnel. Hence, no communication to the outside world and no recent blog updates.
Wordy is most glad to have her knives again. The 'knives' at the rental house were more like crushers and only had the ability to pulverize food into submission (i.e. cheese slices became cheese mashes.)
Quick NZ culinary note, we have recently learned that 'tasty' cheese is Kiwi code for extra sharp cheddar. Yes, extra sharp cheddar is tasty, but does that really make it tasty cheese? If it were up to me, I would call brie tasty cheese and call extra sharp cheddar tangy cheese. I would also call biscuits cookies and I would call biscuits....biscuits.
The one item I am truly glad to see again is my pillow. Not too soft, not too firm. Just right. I once likened that wearing my favorite pair of shoes was like a litter of kitties licking my feet all day. For pillows, this analogy is just plain creepy. Instead, I will say that my pillow does its job and does it magically well.
Needless to say, we have been unpacking for five straight days and only now are we beginning to see a light at the end of the tunnel. Hence, no communication to the outside world and no recent blog updates.
Wordy is most glad to have her knives again. The 'knives' at the rental house were more like crushers and only had the ability to pulverize food into submission (i.e. cheese slices became cheese mashes.)
Quick NZ culinary note, we have recently learned that 'tasty' cheese is Kiwi code for extra sharp cheddar. Yes, extra sharp cheddar is tasty, but does that really make it tasty cheese? If it were up to me, I would call brie tasty cheese and call extra sharp cheddar tangy cheese. I would also call biscuits cookies and I would call biscuits....biscuits.
The one item I am truly glad to see again is my pillow. Not too soft, not too firm. Just right. I once likened that wearing my favorite pair of shoes was like a litter of kitties licking my feet all day. For pillows, this analogy is just plain creepy. Instead, I will say that my pillow does its job and does it magically well.
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
Experiment Milo
Over the next two weeks, I will be subjecting myself to what appears to be a very popular drink: Milo.
The advertising around the country for Milo is relentless. Drink Milo! Milo and cricket! Milo is extreme!
So I thought I would buy in. All the Kiwis I have met so far ARE taller than me and they DO excel at extreme activities. Perhaps Milo is their secret.
For all intents and purposes, Milo looks like chocolate milk, except for the fact that it's derived from malted barley. Being from the US, I automatically equate chocolate and malt to Whoppers which are scrumptious, totally ignoring the fact that its derived from barley...malted barley...which is analogous in flavor and texture to kitty litter.
Who the heck came up with this drink and how was he/she allowed to get away with it?!
After my first sip, the challenge was on as I couldn't dump out the whole container. That would be wasteful.
Several years ago I couldn't stand scotch, but I worked hard and slowly gained a taste for it. Milo is my new scotch. If I can gain an appreciation for Milo, perhaps I can move on to durian, natto, and calves brains.
The advertising around the country for Milo is relentless. Drink Milo! Milo and cricket! Milo is extreme!
So I thought I would buy in. All the Kiwis I have met so far ARE taller than me and they DO excel at extreme activities. Perhaps Milo is their secret.
For all intents and purposes, Milo looks like chocolate milk, except for the fact that it's derived from malted barley. Being from the US, I automatically equate chocolate and malt to Whoppers which are scrumptious, totally ignoring the fact that its derived from barley...malted barley...which is analogous in flavor and texture to kitty litter.
Who the heck came up with this drink and how was he/she allowed to get away with it?!
After my first sip, the challenge was on as I couldn't dump out the whole container. That would be wasteful.
Several years ago I couldn't stand scotch, but I worked hard and slowly gained a taste for it. Milo is my new scotch. If I can gain an appreciation for Milo, perhaps I can move on to durian, natto, and calves brains.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
