Through the power of editing magic, it looks like I skyped with Olivia Medovich in the Roundabout U studio at Murray State University. Secretly, I know that that was not the case.
Terrible interview on my part (7AM New Zealand time and nerves), but still happy to be apart of the Roundabout U Family!
Check out the interview here, or don't if you have a happy life to lead, or like stuff to do:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0hUPa0jasZw&list=UULLBhCxGxrhTF88VzjsWM8w&index=19
Wednesday, April 24, 2013
Friday, April 5, 2013
A Week Home
I haven't been feeling particularly creative or wordy this week. Between the jet lag and the zombie like state I've been in, it didn't feel appropriate to put into words the feeling of being home. I'm starting to feel human again and now's a good time as any to try.
Spending the first TWELVE hours back stateside in the San Francisco Airport was less than ideal. Of course we had the opportunity to go out and explore our default favorite city in California (Meaning this is the only city in California we've ever seen...by air). But... we didn't. The FOURTEEN hour flight from Auckland and the overall depression of the adventure coming to a close had creeped into our brains. I'd accepted the fact that we were back in the USA, and I know LP will agree with me when I say, we were not at all happy about it. So we sat our asses down in that airport and couldn't believe our horrible luck....we were almost home.
Did we even leave? Is 6 weeks gone? Was the whole experience one long, wonderful dream? Were all the things we saw, were all the people we met...even real?
A resounding 'YES!' filled my ears.
But sitting in that airport, miles and miles away from Middle Earth was like the rainy day after a whirlwind romance comes to a end and you can't function.
I turned to food to fill that rainy void (and 12 hour boredom), more specifically I turned to Reese's Pieces, even more specifically... I turned to 4 bags of Reese's Pieces. And a few bags of Doritos. No, it didn't help and right now I would like to formally apologize to my body for the hideous display of no self control.
It's officially one week later and I'm back in the Bluegrass and I'm having mixed feelings. Now that it's over, I don't really know what to do with myself other than to dive right in to what I was doing before I left...internships, waitressing, social media things--baby sitting... I'm really doing what every college graduate does with the college degree at one point in their life and that is to do exactly nothing with it. I promise I will, just not yet.
The real, big, elephant-in-the-room question is yet to be answered,
'Katie, now that you're home, what the fuck are you going to do now?'
Okay, I can try to answer that in 5 'Uhs', 'Huhs' and 'Wells' or less. Here it goes...
Well (1), you see that uh(2), now that I'm home, I uh(3)...huh(4).....well(5), I live with my parents.
The truth is.... the truth is.... the TRUTH is is that I have absolutely no idea.
I can do anything. I can move to California. I can move to NYC. And now, after this adventure, applying for a working holiday visa and heading strait back to New Zealand is a very SERIOUS contender. Because why not?
In the very telling end scene of Sherlock Holmes: Game of Shadows, (how many times have we established over the course of our relationship that I am a nerd?) Watson types the words:
The End.
The very last shot, it changes.
The End?
It's not at all, y'all.
Spending the first TWELVE hours back stateside in the San Francisco Airport was less than ideal. Of course we had the opportunity to go out and explore our default favorite city in California (Meaning this is the only city in California we've ever seen...by air). But... we didn't. The FOURTEEN hour flight from Auckland and the overall depression of the adventure coming to a close had creeped into our brains. I'd accepted the fact that we were back in the USA, and I know LP will agree with me when I say, we were not at all happy about it. So we sat our asses down in that airport and couldn't believe our horrible luck....we were almost home.
Did we even leave? Is 6 weeks gone? Was the whole experience one long, wonderful dream? Were all the things we saw, were all the people we met...even real?
A resounding 'YES!' filled my ears.
But sitting in that airport, miles and miles away from Middle Earth was like the rainy day after a whirlwind romance comes to a end and you can't function.
I turned to food to fill that rainy void (and 12 hour boredom), more specifically I turned to Reese's Pieces, even more specifically... I turned to 4 bags of Reese's Pieces. And a few bags of Doritos. No, it didn't help and right now I would like to formally apologize to my body for the hideous display of no self control.
It's officially one week later and I'm back in the Bluegrass and I'm having mixed feelings. Now that it's over, I don't really know what to do with myself other than to dive right in to what I was doing before I left...internships, waitressing, social media things--baby sitting... I'm really doing what every college graduate does with the college degree at one point in their life and that is to do exactly nothing with it. I promise I will, just not yet.
The real, big, elephant-in-the-room question is yet to be answered,
'Katie, now that you're home, what the fuck are you going to do now?'
Okay, I can try to answer that in 5 'Uhs', 'Huhs' and 'Wells' or less. Here it goes...
Well (1), you see that uh(2), now that I'm home, I uh(3)...huh(4).....well(5), I live with my parents.
The truth is.... the truth is.... the TRUTH is is that I have absolutely no idea.
I can do anything. I can move to California. I can move to NYC. And now, after this adventure, applying for a working holiday visa and heading strait back to New Zealand is a very SERIOUS contender. Because why not?
In the very telling end scene of Sherlock Holmes: Game of Shadows, (how many times have we established over the course of our relationship that I am a nerd?) Watson types the words:
The End.
The very last shot, it changes.
The End?
It's not at all, y'all.
Wednesday, April 3, 2013
My Big Day in Middle Earth
Continued from 'I found myself on a tour bus heading strait to Middle Earth.
Nerds Unite in Middle Earth.
My last day in Rotorua I booked a ticket to Middle Earth. I mean yeah it could be argued that, 'Katie, haven't you been in Middle Earth for 5 weeks already?' Well, sure yeah, Middle Earth.. Narnia, a few other enchanting places.. but no... I really booked a ticket to Middle Earth. I got on a bus and it took me to the Shire.
Yeah, you guys, I mean that Shire.
Before the Hobbit, before the LOTR Trilogy, before the Shire even existed, the Shire was a sheep farm owned by the Alexander Family. Now, back in 1998 (RIGHT? 1998? Shooting for LOTR didn't even begin until 1999), when Peter Jackson was scoping out potential shooting locations, he comes across the Alexander Farm by air. From there, he asked very nicely to use their farm. They accepted and PJ swore the family to secrecy by way of some very legal binding documents.
It wasn't just the Hobbiton set that was a big secret. It wasn't even until the first film was released that the great and powerful Kiwis of New Zealand even knew that their country had been completely transformed into Tolkien's Middle Earth.
The Shire was created. And they did real good. 44 Hobbit Holes, Bilbo and Frodo's house, Sam and Rosie's The Party Field, The Green Dragon... it's all there.
A nerdy life is a happy life. Anyone who tries to deny it is a dirty, rotten liar.
Nerds Unite in Middle Earth.
My last day in Rotorua I booked a ticket to Middle Earth. I mean yeah it could be argued that, 'Katie, haven't you been in Middle Earth for 5 weeks already?' Well, sure yeah, Middle Earth.. Narnia, a few other enchanting places.. but no... I really booked a ticket to Middle Earth. I got on a bus and it took me to the Shire.
Yeah, you guys, I mean that Shire.
Before the Hobbit, before the LOTR Trilogy, before the Shire even existed, the Shire was a sheep farm owned by the Alexander Family. Now, back in 1998 (RIGHT? 1998? Shooting for LOTR didn't even begin until 1999), when Peter Jackson was scoping out potential shooting locations, he comes across the Alexander Farm by air. From there, he asked very nicely to use their farm. They accepted and PJ swore the family to secrecy by way of some very legal binding documents.
It wasn't just the Hobbiton set that was a big secret. It wasn't even until the first film was released that the great and powerful Kiwis of New Zealand even knew that their country had been completely transformed into Tolkien's Middle Earth.
The Shire was created. And they did real good. 44 Hobbit Holes, Bilbo and Frodo's house, Sam and Rosie's The Party Field, The Green Dragon... it's all there.
A nerdy life is a happy life. Anyone who tries to deny it is a dirty, rotten liar.
Here's the Truth
I have a confession to make, when I said before I was going solo for a week? Well, that was only a little bit true. If you've been following LP's blog at all, (and honestly if you haven't, she's a way better writer than I and you might enjoy yourself more. Read her side of the story here: www.reconnoiterlife.blogspot.com) you'll know that she spilled the beans about her solo adventure. Hers involved a lovely Professor of Architectural Drafting from one of the universities in Dunedin. She was brave about it, I thought it would be fair if I was too.
It's true, that I hopped on the Interislander Ferry by myself, it's true that I stayed in Wellington by myself and then took a bus to Rotorua. I took a day and I found Hobbits, but that's for another post.
I don't know what it was about me being on my own, but all of a sudden I turned into someone who couldn't hold a conversation with a new person without becoming a mumbling, bumbling idiot. Didn't happen for me and the nice old lady on the ferry, definitely didn't happen for me at the hostel in Wellington when I was cooking in the communal kitchen surrounded by people interested in having a conversation. My first 24 hours of solo adventure I kept to myself. No serious awkward moments, but maybe just a few weird moments because... well, me. It seemed like LP took all all the 'cool' with her to reunite with the Professor in the South Island. Just kidding...I'm not cool.
But really, Rotorua is where things got a little less, uh, solo-y.
Well, there was this guy. I mentioned him once before awhile back. It's that guy. He's the guy. And we met up in the not quite so bustling city of Rotorua.
Let me get strait to the point, this was a far cry from LPs romantic getaway (please, please read her point of view here www.reconnoiterlife.blogspot.com ): with the Professor.
But, after a several months of self doubt in the dude department...this guy, that guy I mentioned before and mentioned again, made me feel like a girl. He held my hand walking down the street and more than once, he put my hair behind my ear. No pressure, no strings and we drank the best damn margaritas of my life. I don't know if I'll ever see him again, and if he happens to ever stumble across this post, I have no idea if he'll be flattered or creeped out. Because, let's be honest, it could go either way.
Thank you for the memories, Washington.
So my solo adventure was less than solo. We said our goodbyes and I found myself on a tour bus heading strait toward Middle Earth.
It's true, that I hopped on the Interislander Ferry by myself, it's true that I stayed in Wellington by myself and then took a bus to Rotorua. I took a day and I found Hobbits, but that's for another post.
I don't know what it was about me being on my own, but all of a sudden I turned into someone who couldn't hold a conversation with a new person without becoming a mumbling, bumbling idiot. Didn't happen for me and the nice old lady on the ferry, definitely didn't happen for me at the hostel in Wellington when I was cooking in the communal kitchen surrounded by people interested in having a conversation. My first 24 hours of solo adventure I kept to myself. No serious awkward moments, but maybe just a few weird moments because... well, me. It seemed like LP took all all the 'cool' with her to reunite with the Professor in the South Island. Just kidding...I'm not cool.
But really, Rotorua is where things got a little less, uh, solo-y.
Well, there was this guy. I mentioned him once before awhile back. It's that guy. He's the guy. And we met up in the not quite so bustling city of Rotorua.
Let me get strait to the point, this was a far cry from LPs romantic getaway (please, please read her point of view here www.reconnoiterlife.blogspot.com ): with the Professor.
But, after a several months of self doubt in the dude department...this guy, that guy I mentioned before and mentioned again, made me feel like a girl. He held my hand walking down the street and more than once, he put my hair behind my ear. No pressure, no strings and we drank the best damn margaritas of my life. I don't know if I'll ever see him again, and if he happens to ever stumble across this post, I have no idea if he'll be flattered or creeped out. Because, let's be honest, it could go either way.
Thank you for the memories, Washington.
So my solo adventure was less than solo. We said our goodbyes and I found myself on a tour bus heading strait toward Middle Earth.
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