I hope, dear readers, that you are hanging in there- it’s almost Friday! It’s been a doozy of a week and I would be lying if I said that my whirlwind of a weekend in Las Vegas wasn’t catching up to me. I’ve been running on borrowed time, and after I woke up to pouring rain today, I decided to go back to bed and take extra good care of myself for the day. When I’m feeling under the weather, I like to treat myself to an at-home spa day. This way, I don’t feel entirely defeated and usually end up waking up the next day refreshed with a lovely mani-pedi. While I’ve shared quite a few things in my previous post, it just doesn’t feel like a Wednesday without a “Five Things” of the week. I hope you enjoy!
Spring flowers by my apartment. One lovely result of the much-needed rain.
My new favorite buddy: the Camelbak. It’s glass, and I can even drink from it laying down without spilling.
The funniest little club stamp ever. The PacMan. With our powers combined….
Just in case this picture leaves you confused, this was my shoe in Las Vegas, and that strap was supposed to be attached versus flapping in the wind. RIP strappy sandal.
A Starbucks discovery: Caramel iced coffee by the pool. Delicious. I also highly recommend the Hawaiian Tropic Silk Hydration sunscreen. It saved my skin from entirely frying for the whole day.
I’m back to the adult world of bills and errands. And it’s raining. I’m trying not to be too sad about it, and part of me is genuinely glad. I can now do socially acceptable things like sleep, buy a Starbuck’s latte for under $4, and re-hydrate. Despite my previous post on what to bring to Vegas, I found myself failing to heed my own advice. Yes, ibuprofen was needed. Did I bring some? Of course not! I would also like to add that, should one be spending anytime poolside, remember to bring a hat and a lip balm with SPF protection. My scalp and lips are somewhat dry today, to say the least. I somehow forgot that Las Vegas is in the middle of the desert, and is therefore very hot and dry.
Unfortunately, this go-around my good friend Susie came down with appendicitis right before she was scheduled to leave. While we were incredibly sad to have not been able to see her this last weekend, we were so relieved that she was with her family, had access to a hospital and could get the best treatment possible. In other news, this means another trip to Las Vegas is being planned for the year. While I would very much like to respect the age-old adage that “What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas,” some things are too exciting to not share. Rachel and I are two peas in a pod when it comes to our social life in the Bay Area, but we have somehow not ever made it to Vegas together. I was glad we could finally remedy that, and took a few nice photos to document our trip. Meanwhile Rachel, who always thinks on her feet, took some blackmail-worthy photographs and videos of yours truly. Which is now why I must always remain friends with her. We had one hell of a time, to say the least.
This was my Monday, world. I did get a bit of a sunburn, despite re-applying sunscreen incessantly.
The infamous Chandelier in The Cosmopolitan.
Because where else would you find Liberace’s bejeweled car in the lobby of a hotel?
Fantastic chocolates at Jean Philippe Patisserie at the Aria. The more elegant side of Las Vegas.
It isn’t a vacation if you don’t have Pinkberry. On mine, you will find an assortment of children’s cereals. I’m never growing up!
This is, unfortunately, what happens when two girls have an entire hotel bathroom to themselves. Like a makeup bomb went off. Slightly embarrassing.
Did I mention that we saw Avicii DJ at XS Nightclub? Because we did. And it was amazing.
Also, Saturday night was the night that my other shoe broke while dancing. I hobbled around for the rest of the night, but it was worth it.
Today, I wanted to continue on with Part Two of my New Zealand adventures. Enjoy!
…
The only evidence of Hot Water Beach. Where we parked. Too bad we were having too much fun to take pictures!
Wild hydrangeas. Everywhere. Lining the highways!
Beautiful McClaren Falls.
Our first campsite! By the river.
One of my favorite memories of the trip has to be just following loading up our van with all of our camping equipment. Maren, Aaron, and I piled in the car (Aaron was the most fearless when it came to driving on the “wrong” side of the road, so he drove first), waving goodbye to Maren’s parents. Just before pulling out of the “car park,” Maren turned to us and said:
“Does anyone else think that we somehow aren’t old enough to be doing this by ourselves?”
Agreed. Who allowed this without parental supervision?!
And the adventures began! One of the first things I’ll admit to loving when traveling abroad is visiting local grocery stores. There’s something about seeing all the popular food items and observing everyone going about their regular routine in another country that just fascinates me. It’s possibly the least tourist-y thing you can do, but, to me, is just as exciting as touring more famous sites. We picked up a ton of food and drinks for our trip: lamb (the cheapest meat available!), local beer, a box of wine, Tim Tams, fresh fruit, and cheese. You can see a lovely snapshot of the wine we chose above. I almost cried from laughing so hard, when I realized we picked up something called “Merlot Cabernet.” Are we a blend? Or just confused?
Our first stop of the day was Hot Water Beach, a natural phenomenon on the coast of the Coromandel Peninsula. This had to be one of our favorite stops on our trip. No where on earth will you come across a beach, littered with grown adults armed with shovels, digging their own spas in the sand. Only possible when the tide is out, we stopped by rather late in the day, and attempted to find an abandoned pool. Convinced it was a total hoax after coming across only cold water, we stared at all the people contentedly sitting in their pools. It didn’t make sense, until we happened to come across a pool so piping hot, we had to keep swirling the water around to prevent ourselves from getting scalded! Sitting in a steaming bath a few feet from the very cold ocean is something I will never forget. Groups started to clear out as the tide came in, washing the hot water away. In one of the more hilarious moments of our trip, we watched an entire family of Pakistani tourists take over an unwitting couple’s pool. The two still sat in their swimsuits while surrounded by fully clothed people, standing, soaking their feet and chatting, completely oblivious.
Following the beach adventures, we quickly headed out to find a campsite for the night. Driving around the nearby summer town of Tapu, we found that all the motor camps and campsite were almost fully booked. After a brief stop to admire an odd freedom camp by the side of the road, we set up a makeshift camp off-road, and cooked a delicious meal. This was no beenies&weenies, but lamb chops with garlic mashed potatoes. I was a camping convert. The next day, we made our way in the direction of The Shire (and yes, it’s listed on maps as “The Shire”) and happened to make a pit stop at McClaren Falls. Should I ever go back, I would love to revisit this lovely, well-maintained park along with the beautiful falls. It had a little bit of something for everyone, kayaking, horseback riding, picnics, you name it! I highly recommend stopping by, should you ever be in the North Island.
Have a good weekend everyone and stay tuned for the next episode!
Happy first day of Spring! I’m celebrating by flying to Las Vegas this Saturday for a girls’ adventure. While in the midst of packing, I thought I would put together my own little guide for the perfect Vegas weekend getaway. I’m afraid my tips as to what to pack are directed solely at the ladies, because, well…I am one. Let’s begin with:
10 Things You Must Bring with you to Vegas:
Inappropriate shoes. And by inappropriate, I mean bring your highest, biggest, most glitter-encrusted ridiculous pairs of shoes. Yes, pairs. I chastised myself once for bringing multiple, complete outfits for one weekend, but my many options came in handy when one of my shoes broke in the lobby of the hotel right as I was leaving. Be prepared, ladies.
Dresses. Now is the time to wear all your summer sundresses (for the daytime), and bust out your slinkiest cocktail dress at night. Preferably in the brightest colors you can find.
Swimsuits! I also find options helpful here, as you definitely want to take advantage of the lavish pools and day clubs many hotels on the strip have to offer. If your dream is to pull off an itty-bitty bikini, now is the time.
A sarong, or beach cover-up. Bring something stylish and colorful to throw on top of your suit to and from the pool. Because, let’s be honest, the trek from your room on the 30th floor of the Mandalay Bay to the pool outside takes 20 minutes.
Sparkles. Ladies, bring all your fun gems along for the trip. Break all the rules. Wear your bejeweled watch and earrings and a necklace and all your bracelets. And rings. There are no rules here.
Makeup. A no-brainer. But I’m not just referring to your everyday makeup. Remember that ridiculously neon coral lipstick you bought? Bring that. Oh, and that glitter eyeliner you wore for new years? That too.
Eyelashes. It’s not often that I sport the fake ones, because they feel more costume-like on me than anything, but why not?! Grab those rhinestone eyelashes from the drugstore and apologize to no one.
Adult refreshments. If there is room in your suitcase (or your friend’s suitcase, for that matter) BYOB. I’ve heard the cautionary tale of the $9,000 bar tab. It’s just not worth it!
Snack. Grab a few little snacks: granola bars, crackers, anything! I highly recommend a few packs of instant oatmeal. It’s easy to make and nutritious, especially when you just need something quick to sustain you in the morning and don’t feel like paying $40 for a breakfast buffet.
Ibuprofen. Or, as I like to call it: I-Be-Broken. Just in case you have too much of a good time.
10 Things to Do in Vegas!
Pool time. Pool time. Pool time. Where else in the world can you bask at a fake beach or slide on a water-slide through a shark tank?!
The Bellagio Fountains. Possibly my most favorite “show” to stop and oggle on the strip. Both beautiful and fascinating to watch; a great opportunity for photos as well!
Buy a drink the size of your arm. Because where else is this socially acceptable?! No where. It doesn’t matter that half-way through it you’re going to feel ill. It sure is fun to carry around.
Play the penny slots. I’m not much of a gambler, so this is perfect entertainment for me. I play them in slow-motion and try to get the eye of a cocktail waitress in the meantime. Remember to tip them well!
Clubbing. Las Vegas is home to some of the most ridiculous, over-the-top clubs in the world. Even if it’s not entirely your cup of tea, go! It makes for some good people watching and will provide you with some stories to tell your grandchildren when they’re older. The kind of stories that prove you were a cool kid, back in your day.
Treat yourself to a fabulous dinner. I highly recommend Red Square, in Mandalay Bay. If you’re young and on somewhat of a budget, keep an eye out for Happy Hour deals. Eat well and enjoy.
The Botanic Gardens at the Bellagio. For a bit of nature in Vegas, visit the Bellagio. They change their displays according to season, and they’re always spectacular to see.
The Chandelier in the Cosmopolitan. Where else can you have innovative cocktails inside a lavish, multi-story chandelier. It’s absolutely on my to-do list for the weekend.
Shopping. You can find everything here. If you’re looking for more high-end, I recommend Crystals at the City Center. The architecture alone is something to see- I also swear that they pump Viktor and Rolf’s “Flowerbomb” perfume in through the air conditioning. Another great alternative are the Forum Shops at Caesar’s Palace, with a little bit of something for everyone.
Jump on the bed. You heard me. Do it. You’ll be in a fabulous hotel (hopefully with spectacular views of the strip), what have you got to lose? I do this every time I’m in Vegas, usually from sheer excitement. The world is your oyster- jump on the dang bed!
10 Things NOT to Do in Vegas
Don’t. Tattoo. Anything. Just don’t.
Impulsively buy bottle service. A co-worker of mine once had to sell some stock in order to pay his ridiculously large tab. Because buying a bottle of Kristal at 2am will sound like a good idea. Don’t do it.
Keep your shoes on. Ladies, this one is for you. I’m usually a staunch supporter of keeping ones shoes on, at all times. But you also need to know when to admit defeat. I once had a girlfriend who insisted on keeping her heels on all night, and could not walk the next morning because the balls of both her feet were giant blisters.
Don’t accept those cards people on the street are handing out. Do it once, and you’ll see why.
Abandon your friends. Keep the buddy system going, because someone will always need you to tell them when something isn’t a good idea. And, you’ll be happy the next morning when your friend kept an eye out for you.
Jaywalk on the Strip. Do you want to die? This is a city that has built pedestrian bridges for a reason.
Don’t forget to drink water. Lots and lots of water. All that walking around on the strip can be really draining, especially in that desert sun. You’ll need your energy with all that fun you’re having.
Go to the pool without ID. For all the 30-and-under crowd, there is nothing more infinitely frustrating than being turned down when trying to buy a beverage. Don’t ask me where to put your ID in your bikini, just make sure you bring it along.
Pay $17 for a well cocktail. I’m talking to you The Bank at the Bellagio. That’s just absurd. And the only thing that will make this OK is if my cocktail comes with a solid gold straw. Or $8 cash back.
Walk through the casino the morning after, if you can help it. I’m not sure who thought this was a good idea, but the combination of bright lights, cigarette smoke, obnoxious electronic dinging, and a hangover makes for the definition of cruel and unusual punishment.
So far, it’s off to a good start! Aside from my cupcake-for-breakfast slip up, I am being a successful adult this week. I’ve run errands, balanced a full work schedule, done my taxes, and have slowly but surely begun packing for my upcoming weekend getaway. My challenge this week will be to fit all of my clothing in a carry on. And by carry on, I mean my Longchamps Le Pliage bag. Yikes! I believe it can be done, especially give the fact that the majority of my packing will consist of cotton dresses and swimsuits. More on these adventures later this week. For now, have fun with Five Things!
(Beautiful lilies from Trader Joe’s to brighten up any room)
(One of my favorite homemade salads: roasted beets, avocado, red onion, and goat cheese on a bed of butter lettuce. Yum!)
(Spring has just about sprung! The lovely magnolias by my house.)
(Fresh strawberry gelato with the mother on a Sunday.)
(Blood Orange mimosas at Hot Italian with my other mother on Saturdays. It’s become our new, delicious routine. Followed by shopping, of course.)
I have been a long time follower of food blogs. Some of my most favorite recipes have come from the Smitten Kitchen, and many of us know the lovely Ree Drummond of The Pioneer Woman. I so admire these ladies and their ability to create original recipes, something that I, despite the joy I find in cooking and baking, have never really attempted before. It goes without saying that I’m not counting my childhood forays in to creating my own cookie recipe which resulted in something resembling chocolate chip bread lumps. I have been far more conservatively creative since then. This morning, I attempted to document my own baking adventures, involving a box of questionable cupcake mix. And by questionable I mean that no grown adult would ever attempt to make something so ridiculous.
Step one involved coffee. As in, I needed coffee before attempting to follow any kind of instructions.
Yes, ladies and gentlemen. Watermelon cupcakes.
Step 2: Prepping the work space. Luckily I have an abnormal surplus of cupcake tin liners.
Mixing all the ingredients. It somewhat resembled a science experiment gone awry. And yes, the batter did smell disturbingly like watermelon.
The pouring of the batter is undoubtedly the hardest part. There was some fallout.
I’m not entirely sure how this happened, but some batter ended up on my floor. Yikes.
After pouring the pink slime, er, cupcake batter, they simply went in the oven for 17 minutes and
Voilà!
We have our watermelon cupcakes!
For the final touch, of course Betty Crocker created a matching watermelon frosting. Also watermelon flavored and very reminiscent of Bubblicious watermelon gum.
Frosting my slightly deformed cupcake that I may or may not have accidentally stuck my finger in. Since I intend to bring these beauties to dinner at a friend’s house, I figured I could reserve the less than perfect cupcakes for a taste test.
The end result! The taste is quite interesting, and vaguely watermelon-like. I now have 24 of these cupcakes at my disposal. Luckily, these are being served as dessert for a weekly Taco Tuesday dinner. I say luckily because I feel like the taste of these will vastly be improved with the addition of tequila.
Ridiculous or not, simply looking at them makes me happy.
I couldn’t sleep one night, and decided to write the below little blurb of my life. I hope it provides you with a little insight. I guess you could say this is another “coming-out” piece. I never really intended my blog to be a sounding board for my personal life, but I think it’s peculiar enough that it makes for a good story. I leave you with a little point-of-reference photo of my multicultural immediate family (not shown is the cat, who I’m sure is very upset that she’s not included).
……
The first word I ever spoke was Farsi: Baba, which means father. It makes for an interesting conversation starter; I grew up speaking three languages simultaneously, but I am the definition of American. Most of my father’s family, while having immigrated to the United States to escape their war-torn homeland almost 40 years ago, do not speak more than a sentence of English. Growing up with a grandmother who also struggled in her new surroundings forced me to maintain my Farsi until I was a teenager. I have a tumultuous relationship with this language, to say the least. My mother tells me that, as a child, I would mix German, English, and Farsi words together in one sentence of gibbberish that only she could understand. I joke with her now, saying that it’s no wonder that I’m a linguistically confused adult. That I had moments of embarrassment speaking to my French teacher in Farsi when I was over-tired. That there is no greater frustration in the world than when someone asks me: “Quick! How do you say onion in Farsi?!” Knowing that I can remember how to say it in French, German, English, Arabic, but not Farsi. Not at the moment. If that individual returned fifteen minutes later, I would have it, but there is no consolation prize, no show of admiration for my lack of quick wit. When I was about eleven, my older cousins took me along to my grandmother’s dentist appointment. I acted as the lone interpreter for her denture fitting while they parked the car. I struggled, translating the same questions over and over again, the dentist unsatisfied with her answers. “Does it hurt? Does it pinch anywhere? Does it hurt?” Sweat beading on my forehead, there was no explaining to the dentist that I didn’t know how the hell to say ‘dentures’ in Farsi, or if there even was an equivalent word. I don’t think dentures are an oft seen commodity in countries where women aren’t even allowed to read. Once, upon knowing that I grew up speaking the language, a co-worker of mine asked me: “How do you say, ‘My name is Eva’ in Farsi?” I was stumped, and ultimately mortified that I didn’t have the answer. Looking back, I realize it’s because no one asks you to introduce yourself, no one really needs to know your name in the Afghan culture. You’re solely identified by your most notable relatives, in my case, I am my father’s daughter. “Hello, my name is…” doesn’t really exist. I’ve never had to use those words in a sentence.
I say that I’m the black sheep of the family, maybe the only American-born member of my generation. It’s perhaps this and not the language barrier that is so divisive. The fact that I’m also mixed race makes me an oddity. Even as a successful and educated 26 year-old woman, I constantly relive my desperate childhood need to fit in to a society where I will always be an anomaly. I am the only daughter of a well-respected and well-known member of the community. When I make my way through the crowd at family gatherings, saying hello, kissing cheeks, there is often a discussion that trails behind me. Most of the words are sweet, acknowledging me. It’s only when I sit down, that I feel the sick feeling of a creature on display. They don’t know that when they discuss me openly, across a room, that I can understand them. When they ask “Can she speak Farsi? Does she know the language?” I know their disappointment. I am like a broken toy. I’m fully aware that my speech is now limited to niceties, complimenting the food, inquiring as to one’s health, tea preferences, etc. But, my comprehension of the language has not faded. I can only think that this is what a locked-in person must feel, my eyes darting around the room, following the conversation. Aside from the deeply stifling need to defend myself, I could never imagine shouting over the crowd of people that I understand them. I understand every word they say about me as I sit next to them. The sad looks they give me, like I am an ugly velvet painting among a wall of Picassos, are not lost on me. They don’t know or care that I have two degrees, that I graduated from college with honors, or that I could once write beautiful, complete papers in Arabic. They don’t know that I’m an artist, that I have students who tell me I am the best teacher, students who hug me everyday when they leave.
I tell myself that it’s inherent, that I could walk in the room tomorrow, with the most exquisite of homemade Afghan dishes in my hand, singing in Farsi, reading from the Qu’ran; I still wouldn’t be good enough. I will always be a fabulous imitation of them. So I sit there, clutching my tepid tea, feeling as if my insides are piled beneath the chair I’m sitting in. I endure the looks with a placid expression on my face, like an animal in the zoo. Telling myself over and over,
I love my family…I love my family…I love my family…
I’m sure many of you can agree with me when I say it is somewhat anti-climactic to return to your childhood home following your college years. Although practically born and raised in Alameda, I’ve found this town to be quite different from what I remember as a child. To put it lightly, the things you do for amusement at seven are quite different from the things you do for amusement at 27. Now armed with a bank card, a driver’s license, and no curfew, I’ve spent that last few years re-discovering my hometown. While a bit of a “sleepy town” in the shadow of a big city, Alameda is home to quite a few gems. I’ve put together a quick list of my favorites today, and hope to elaborate a bit more as time goes by. Let me know if you find this helpful, dear readers, as I’m hoping to continue on with a guide to my favorite places in the whole East Bay as well.
Breakfast/Coffee Time!
Blue Dot Cafe & Coffeebar. For the most delicious chai lattes and scones.
Cafe Jolie. Amazing eggs benedict and breakfast with a French twist.
Julie’s Coffee and Tea. Choco-chai. Need I say more?
Jim’s On the Course. Good, old-fashioned breakfast with a view
The Beanery. In the Alameda Markethall
Little House Cafe. A bit of charm for your day.
The Red Onion.Delicious eggs and waffles.
East Ocean Seafood. If you’re in the mood for Dim Sum…
Lunch!
Yellowtail Japanese Bistro.For the freshest sushi lunch around
Jay’s Coffee, Teas & Treats.Fantastic sandwiches, wrapped up in a bow.
Jonathan’s Sandwich House.Your mom & pop sandwich shop. Owned by the loveliest family.
House of Bagels.Home of my favorite veggie sandwich.
Sushi King.The best take-out sushi of all time. Also fantastic for dinner.
I’ve had quite a doozy of a day so far. Then again, any day will seem like a doozy if it’s preceded by the following during the night:
Attacked by mosquitoes. Two flew in to my ear as I was sleeping. Have bite on my face.
A noisy, middle-of-the-night duck fight (outside my window, no less)
Loud neighbors (having a chat, outside my window)
Upstairs neighbor strikes again. In heels.
So, forgive me if I’m a little out of sorts.
Let me preface this by saying that this will be the first installment of my little photo diary. I saw so many amazing things and had such lovely experiences, the thought of relegating it to one post is incredibly daunting. So, why not many? I also have to explain myself. Some of you know that my New Zealand adventures took place in January…so why wait this long? Well, dear reader, I can attribute it to one thing: the minute I start summarizing my trip and unpacking my bags- it’s over. And I’m somewhat inexplicably clinging to that “just back from vacation” feeling as long as possible.
Why New Zealand? I’ve been wanting to visit New Zealand for the last 10 years of my life, if not more. I’ve dreamt of its summers during our winters, and imagined its beaches and rolling hills. When I was 15, I decided the ultimate revenge for misbehaving parents would be to threaten going to college to New Zealand. I had the brochures in my little hand, and would brandish them about like a weapon (If you’re curious, my school of choice was University of Cantebury in Christchurch). My dream was to literally move as far away from home as possible. But, I digress. On January 1st of this year, I grabbed my little carry-on suitcase and headed to the airport.
(My lovely little Hawaiian Airlines plane all set to take me to Oahu on the first leg of my journey.)
(I’m an aisle seat person. I also have a Dance Arts Project tank on, but you unfortunately can’t see the logo.)
I get asked a lot about the duration of the flight, and, having once spent 14 hours on a plane non-stop, my flight to New Zealand felt incredibly reasonable. I spent five hours flying to Hawaii, had a small layover, and then another eight from Oahu to Auckland. I was so excited and nervous when I arrived- having never traveled outside of the country on my own, I had concocted all sorts of worst-case scenarios that I might have to get myself out of. I’ve also heard that going through customs in New Zealand is quite the process. I walked through, almost completely alone, and somewhat confused as to where to go, because there were no crowds of people to follow. Possibly the oddest customs experience of my life. What was odder, however, was the fact that the plane was fumigated upon landing. While all the passengers sat there. Much like you would Febreeze a cabin, they sprayed us with pesticides. I don’t really want to think about the health repercussions, but if anything it was amusing. Once free of customs, I enjoyed the lovely humid night while I waited for my friends to meet me. I can’t really describe the feeling of seeing a good friend of yours skipping up to you half-way around the world. I was so utterly relieved she had found me, and we promptly bear-hugged. I would be staying with my good friend Maren, her boyfriend Aaron, and her parents on their sailboat for the next two days before we took off on our official adventures. But everything about this trip felt like an adventure to me: adventures to the bathroom, adventures to Countdown (the New Zealand grocery chain), adventures trying to find the boat among all the other boats in Half Moon Bay.
I was standing on the bow of the boat, Pacific Coast Highway, when I took this photo. I was also letting my hair air-dry, sipping some coffee and reading in the morning sun. Now it was a vacation.
The lovely Half Moon Bay in Auckland. I can now say I’ve been to two of them, in Auckland and in California!
I’m on a boat, ladies and gentlemen. And no, I did not get seasick!
After my arrival, we sailed through the Hauraki Gulf to drop anchor just outside of Rangitoto Island. Relatively undeveloped and uninhabited, you can access Rangitoto by ferry from Auckland, or, in our case, just take the dinghy in. I took a little video on my phone below of our view just outside the island. New Zealand weather is awfully temperamental, from searing hot, to overcast and cloudy; that particular day it was also incredibly windy. I apologize in advance for the shoddy camerawork, hopefully I don’t make any of you nauseous. I love that you can see all of our hiking boots all lined up post-hike, pre-beer. If you listen closely, you can also hear me contentedly humming in the background.
Tui- a local beer. Not only was it delicious, but if you looked under each bottle-cap, you would find a trivia question. We had quite a fun happy hour, to say the least. Maren’s parents make a fantastic team and were such amazing, generous hosts. Both obviously avid sailors, they are living the dream. Sailing around the world, they’re spending hurricane season in New Zealand before heading to their next location. Before New Zealand, they were in Tonga, and at one point, their rudder fell off five hours out to sea. They jerry-rigged a new steering system using plastic buckets. I still don’t know how that works. You can read more about their experience here. Crazy amazing.
Me at the top of Rangitoto! You can see the outskirts of Auckland in the background.
We hiked all the way to the top of the inactive volcano, and even stopped to explore some of the lava tubes along the way. I’ll admit that I was apprehensive crawling through narrow dark caves, but with both Maren and Aaron leading the way, I felt incredibly safe. Thanks to their bringing a headlamp, we even took some fellow tourists through the caves we explored. Now I can say that I’ve been cave spelunking! Amazing!
Well, that’s a quick recap of my first days in Auckland. I can say one thing for certain: if you get the opportunity to go to New Zealand, GO. It was the trip of a lifetime, and, even better, I made it happen along with one of my dearest friends.
Do you ever have those kind of weeks where you feel like you have so much to do, but nowhere near enough time to do them? I’m in the middle of one of those weeks right now. I am desperately trying to tie up all my loose ends well in advance, but with my plans constantly moving and changing, I find it hard to focus on just one task at a time. One thing that I so enjoy about blogging is that it forces me to focus on whatever I might be thinking or wanting to write about at the time. I try to get from beginning to end in one sitting, as often as I can. I have a horrible tendency to over-think a lot of the work that I do, so it’s very liberating to sit and “crank out” the work that I can, without too much intense scrutiny from yours truly.
With all that, let’s get to my five things of the week! I could also rename this: “Things I Saw This Weekend,” but where’s the fun in that?
(Miss Moscow Mule and Lady Greyhound had a night on the town. There may have been some disco pants involved.)
(Nothing makes a late-night walk home simultaneously more pleasant and more difficult than the smell of freshly baked donuts. Delicious.)
(It’s starting to feel like spring! Admiring the blooming tree-lined streets on my way to Alameda Beach.)
(Oh, yeah. That’s why I live here. Look at that spectacular view! Impressive even on a cloudy day.)
(Am mildly obsessed with this song cover by the lovely Lily Ahlberg. Pause it, play it…)
Spring flowers by my apartment. One lovely result of the much-needed rain.
Watch Me Juggle 
