Party People

My department had an early Christmas party on Friday at Paekakariki Beach, 45 minutes north of Wellington on the Kapiti Coast. It was a beautiful day! For entertainment purposes, there was beach cricket and IRB boat rides. This is basically an inflatable speed boat that fits 2 people. It was very fast and very fun.

There was plenty of entertainment even without those activities. Remember that a normal Friday at work involves 2-3 hours of drinking... then try to imagine what these Kiwis do at a legitimate "party." It did not disappoint! I've been to some parties in my day, and this one ranked right up there.

The festivities began at 1:00pm. Maybe 3 people took the free shuttle van back to the city at 7pm. The rest of us had to fend for ourselves by taking a train home the next day. When I called it a night at 2:00am, some people were still going strong. In the morning, I found someone asleep on the couch in swimming trunks and a cowboy hat.

Let me put it this way -- the accidental revelation that I have been secretly dating a co-worker (now you know too) was barely a blip on the radar screen. What would normally be juicy office gossip paled in comparison to other events. These events included karaoke, salsa dancing, crying, kissing, physical violence, many lost belongings, etc. There was a barbecue fire that melted the knobs off the grill. Don't ask me how some of these people are going to show their faces on Monday morning. I'm embarrassed for them.

I'm proud to report that I was well-behaved and uninvolved in the drama. However, I did suffer a nasty party injury. Someone's dog stole a bottle of Advil from my purse. After chasing him into a corner, I made my move to retrieve the bottle from his mouth. Instead, I came away with a bitten hand and jammed finger. I decided to let that stupid dog keep the Advil, and I don't care if he OD'ed. All I want for Christmas is to be rabies-free.

Elusive young Kiwi male - rear view, hands full

Newsflash, Part XX

Some recent news for the animal lovers:

• Lock up your horses. I don't know how the humans could tell that Red was "exhausted and a bit sore," but I'm glad he arrived home safely.
• Here's something really freaky - a two-headed Australian kitten
• Giraffes set sail!
• In an avian case of mistaken identity, the police held a family at gunpoint to seize their pet parrot.
• While police were preoccupied with that important birdnapping, there was a REAL animal on the loose in downtown Wellington. Silent but furious!

Keep Your Pants On

Further evidence of the promiscuity of the Kiwi female

Sunset - as seen from living room

Gobble, Gobble

Happy Thanksgiving, dear readers!!

Alas, there is no holiday for me to celebrate in New Zealand. No stuffing, no cranberry sauce, no football. It is very difficult and expensive to buy a turkey. Pumpkin pie doesn't exist here either. A girl recently asked me if I ever ate pumpkin pie in America. Well of course! She asked, "But how do they make it sweet?" I don't know? Add sugar.

I'm no Betty Crocker, but you can see that I gave it my best shot last year. My delicious eggnog/pumpkin pie was the most photographed dessert in the history of Thanksgivings. I wore an apron for cripe's sake! I could make the perfect little housewife! Are you listening, young Kiwi male?

So no holiday for me, but no shortage of things to be grateful for this year... including wonderful family and friends like you!

Newsflash, Part XIX

Police may have been surprised to find a child driving a giant construction truck through the streets of New Zealand... but I'm sure not.

Chocolate Fish

The US has a saying to acknowledge a job well done. “You get a gold star.” This is a little bit tongue-in-cheek, a throwback to elementary school. No one actually gives you a gold star sticker… at least not since your 4th grade spelling test.

NZ also has a saying to acknowledge a job well done. “You get a chocolate fish.” The difference is that the Kiwis will physically hand you a chocolate fish, another one of those “essential Kiwi items.” It is a strawberry peep-like marshmallow with a chocolate shell in the shape of a minnow. You also get a chocolate fish on your saucer when you order a fancy coffee drink like a mochaccino.

Rumor has it that the chocolate fish is typically 6-8 inches; however, I find that the mini 2 inch version is much more common. (Sound familiar, girls??) Believe me, dear readers, size does not matter. Smaller is better because the chocolate fish is more like a punishment than a reward. It is kind of gross. When I’m in charge, I will passive-aggressively distribute chocolate fish to poor performers. The high achievers will be lauded with TimTams and Starburst. Or maybe I’ll expect them to tirelessly work their tails off without recognition or reward. That's the American way, after all.

Returning to the topic of stars, New Zealand loves the saying “You’re a star.” This strikes me as very old-fashioned. I picture granddads saying it in the 1950s. I picture black-and-white Hollywood glamour… a skeevy agent telling a young Marilyn Monroe that he’ll make her famous.

Whenever I complete some menial task at work, people say, “Thanks Maureen, you’re a star!”* I hear this left and right. Please, Kiwis, tell me something I don't know.

* When this praise is delivered via email, it is often written as "YOUR a star!" Guess who didn't get a gold star on the 4th grade spelling test.

Texting Capital of the World

NZ is so far behind the times in so many ways, but they are leaps and bounds ahead of us in one arena. TEXT MESSAGING! NZ has taken this new little bit of technology and run with it. I would put a Kiwi of any age up against an American teenager any day. The Kiwis have very dexterous thumbs! In fact, the title of fastest texter in the world belongs to a young Kiwi male.

I have received maybe 7 phone calls in this country (Miss Popularity), but I regularly have to clear out my phone's inbox. Texting is so prevalent because cell phone calls are crazy expensive. A call is 80 cents per minute, whereas a text message is only 20 cents. I see the appeal of texting, but I am still amused by the degree to which it has invaded society. Texting is not only for young people, and it is not only for chatting with pals. If you can't text in NZ, you'd be totally left in the dust.

How do you enroll to vote? How are you reminded of doctor's appointments? How are you notified of sales at your favorite store? How do you check your bank account balance? How do you enter NZ's many sweepstakes? How do you order a pizza? The answer to all these questions (and much more) is TEXT MESSAGING.

Maybe I'm a slow learner, but I only started texting within the last 2 years. NZ, on the other hand, was already fully immersed in texting 2 years ago. Notice that this article is dated November 2006. For the love of the English language, can we please agree that it is horrible idea to allow text language in school exams? Kiwi kids these days!

C U L8r, dear readers.

Scared Straight

New Zealand has some rather graphic public service announcements - I gather that the country's main problems are gambling, domestic violence and binge drinking. The ads can be disturbing and/or unintentionally funny. I've heard quite a few people discuss this ad, which features a drunk man dropping a child at a picnic. It reminds me of this year's Fourth of July (you know who you are...)

As if you need another reason not to mix alcohol and children -- there was a 6-month-old baby at the office's Drinkie Friday this week. I alerted the baby's attentive father: "Um, he just put a bottle cap in his mouth." I am single-handedly saving New Zealand from itself, one young Kiwi male at a time.

Cookie Time Plane

Kiwis are not content to take a run-of-the-mill gas station pit stop. They spice things up by attaching planes to their gas stations. This Cookie Time plane-turned-cafe is a famous NZ landmark along State Highway One in the town of Mangaweka. It is a DC-3 plane manufactured in America during WWII... much bigger inside than I expected.

I'm Back!

Where have I been the last few days? On death's doorstep. A word of advice - don't ever get sick in a foreign country. The cold I had ignored for 2+ weeks turned into strep throat. Feverish, unable to swallow and with glands the size of cricket balls, I finally took a day off work to seek medical attention.

I opened the yellow pages and started dialing. When that was unsuccessful, I turned to friends for suggestions. I would take a nap, be rejected by a few doctors, take another nap, then be rejected by more doctors. I was discriminated against due to my American accent. Over the course of a day, I called just about every doctor in Wellington. Did the combination of severe illness and intense frustration bring me to tears? Maybe.

Every office referred me to an after hours clinic that costs an outrageous fortune for non-residents. I was almost desperate enough to go there, but at the last minute I found a doctor in the suburbs who was willing to give me an appointment... 24 hours later. I decided to extend my suffering an extra day to save $100.

The registration form at the doctor's office asked for my contact details and citizenship. They made a photocopy of my passport and visa, but asked zero questions about my health or medical history. This was the extent of my exam with the 80-year-old 5 foot tall doctor:

Dr: Are you pregnant?
Me: No.
Dr: Not even a little bit?
Me: Um, I hope not. [A ridiculous question deserves a riduculous answer.]
Dr: Open your mouth and say ahhh.
Me: Ahhh.

And with that, he prescribed me 1000mg of penicillin a day for 10 days. (I think this dose is unusually high?) No exam. No throat culture. The Kiwis will soon be wiped out by a super-bug due to rampant antibiotic resistance. I also asked for a renewal of another prescription. The doctor happily obliged. No questions asked. I would have asked for the good stuff if I had known it would be that easy. If you're a junkie, this is the place to be.

By some miracle, I found a pharmacy that was open until 5:30pm. (Don't forget - this is New Zealand.) They gave me penicillin in a box. There was no accompanying drug information sheet with details about how to take it, possible drug interactions, allergies, side effects, etc. Rules don't apply in New Zealand.

Newsflas, Part XVIII

Men have body image issues too. Young Kiwi male, I promise to overlook your shoulder hair if you promise to overlook my big American ass.

Pump Up the Jams

As I’ve suggested previously, the New Zealand soundtrack is a bit behind the times. The Kiwis really do party like it’s 1999! A regular feature in one of the Welly newspapers involves asking people on the street what’s playing on their ipods. [side note - I recently shared an elevator with someone listening to a discman.] The selections are often old. Not old enough to be classic (Janet Jackson, Rhythm Nation); just old enough to be unexpected (Janet Jackson, Damita Jo).

One day, a shoe store was playing a late 90s boy band dance song. I don’t remember which one – maybe NSync’s "Bye, Bye, Bye," or Backstreet Boys’ "I Want It That Way." Honestly, who can tell the difference? In any case, those chart-toppers are undeniably catchy. You still hear them in American malls from time to time. You bop along and reminisce – “prom night was totally awesome!” In the US, the experience ends there. In New Zealand, the shoe store proceeds to play the entire CD. The CD is at least a decade old, and some of the songs were never popular in the first place.

In another retail/musical mash-up, I was recently Rickrolled in a convenience store. Never gonna get that song out of my head!

To go even further back in time, I can watch hours of music videos on C4 TV. This was my favorite pastime in the 7th grade, which is the last time MTV has shown a music video. In a shocking twist of events (brace yourself...), the music videos broadcast in New Zealand are actually very new and “with it.” Some of the bands are so hip that I’m too old to know them. If you find yourself shoe shopping in New Zealand in 2020, this is the music you’ll hear.

NOT World Famous

I already told you that NZ loves to make fun of Major League Baseball's "World" Series. Well guess what, Kiwis?? You do the exact same thing! Snap!

The tagline for NZ's native L&P Soda is "World Famous in New Zealand" (written on the red banner on the bottles). This non-sensical slogan has taken on a life of its own. Kiwis attach this label to anything they believe to be deserving of world fame. In reality, the term means that an item/person has achieved some degree of popularity in this tiny, isolated nation... nowhere near world famous. By the way, L&P soda is underserving of even local fame. It is gross.

In other soft drink news, soda is commonly referred to as "fizzy drink." NZ has a lot of fruit/citrus sodas that I don't care for. I'm usually a Pepsi girl, but 99% of places only have Coca-Cola. The Coke is often served in a glass bottle with an old-time bottle cap. So cute! Cherry Coke was pulled from the market because it didn't go over so well with Kiwis. Ginger Beer (non-alcholic) is another gross soft drink that is very popular in NZ.

Don't confuse Ginger Beer with Ginger Ale, which is very difficult to find. (I'm told it is here, but I haven't seen it yet.) How am I supposed to have my favorite Ginger Ale and Vanilla Vodka cocktail sans Ginger Ale? It's a tough life.

Overheard in a Welly Restaurant...

A waitress asks a table of men if they would like to order dessert. They order tequila... in a restaurant that lacks a liquor license. I struggle to reconcile the idiocy (tequila for dessert?) and genius (tequila for dessert!) of the young Kiwi male.

Send This to 5 Friends For Good Luck

Just like in the US, Kiwi office workers spend their day forwarding email jokes and chain letters. I used to get at 1 or 2 emails a week that made fun of George Bush in one way or another, but New Zealand is starting to change its tune. Check out the website that was passed around yesterday...
http://www.nothingisimpossible.co.nz/

Newsflash, Part XVII

This article describes the A La Naturelle fashion show taking place in Canterbury this weekend. It shows 2 examples of poor parenting by the Kiwis. 1) Would you let your 17-year-old daughter model topless? Is it still considered "nudity" if there is body paint involved? Naturally, this showing of boobs is expected to draw huge crowds of children (?!) so there will also be a petting zoo and fair rides. 2) Do the NZ police urge parents to watch their children closely? No. They say "Write your cell phone number on junior's hand and we'll call you whenever we find him."

England's Princess Anne is expected to attend that classy fashion show with all the Kiwi kids. Her big brother, Prince Charles, paid his own visit to New Zealand in 1981. This articles contains new revelations about Charles' thoughts on the country. He is quoted as saying: "I am beginning to get fed up with the amount of nonsensical rubbish I take all day and every day." Preachin' to the choir, Chuck!

You Say Zed, I Say Zee

Now that they can't make fun of my President anymore, the Kiwis have taken to making fun of my spelling. At a work meeting, people were trying to come up with a word that is the opposite of seamless. I wasn't supposed to be an active participant in this meeting, but I couldn't stand to watch them stumble over themselves any longer. I offered up "disjointed." Everyone liked this suggestion. The guy writing on the board (yes, like a 4th grade classroom) had his back to us. He asked: "Was that the American?"and commented that I should be happy with the spelling because it didn't have any extra U's. Somone said I'd probably like to "throw a funny ZED in there" (implying that I would write dizjointed instead of disjointed). They all had a good laugh over this. Someone finally tacked on, "Oh we're not making fun of you, Maureen." Sure...

That Other Election

You've been flooding my inbox with questions about the results of NZ's election on Saturday. Okay, not really. I don't care about it either, but I'd be remiss if I didn't notify you of the big change in NZ government. After serving as Prime Minister since 1999 (no term limits in NZ), Helen Clark lost to John Key. Seems like everyone is looking for a change these days! Don't ask me any detailed questions about the candidates, their stances, or the election process. I've been involved in many conversations about these topics, but I can't seem to retain the information. I guess I really am a self-centered American. From what I gather, you cast your vote for a certain political party instead of a particular person.

The election coverage on TV left a lot to be desired. It looked like it was shot with a cell phone camera. There were a few talking heads with laptops gathered around a table. Their most impressive graphics were a series of color-coded bar graphs. This does not begin to compare to CNN, which I hear used holograms to beam people into their studios this year. There was no digital map that expands with the touch of a finger.

I've become so accustomed to speaking my mind here on N to the ZED that I sometimes forget to edit myself in real life. After one too many unsolicited comments about the TV coverage, a Kiwi said: "You just can't help yourself, can you?" Oops. Zip it, Maureen. Honestly though, even the TV anchors realized their sad state. They mentioned numerous times that this election didn't measure up to the excitement of the US election.

Buyer's Remorse

I spent too much money on wine in Martinborough. I wasn't satisfied to taste it; I had to own it. Why did I buy a bottle of sweet dessert wine that I didn’t even like?? Because my name is on the label... the unimpressive label in Times New Roman font that I could easily re-create on my home computer. This vineyard was the last stop on our day-long tour of wine country, which may explain my decision-making.

(But give me a break - it was very difficult to find pencils and keychains with my name when I was kid. "Maureen" is no "Jennifer.")

Streets of Martinborough

John Martin, the founder of Martinborough, wasn't very creative. It's pretty obvious how the town got its name. Its street names aren't any more original. Martin named the streets after places he visited on an 1879 world tour, which included many US states. The town square was laid out to resemble the pattern of the Union Jack. Get your own ideas, Kiwis!!

But I'm happy to see that cold beer is still available in western New York! Shout out to my old hometown of Rochester!

My Humble Abode

If you need me, I'll be spending the rest of my days in this adorable Martinborough cottage... drinking wine, tending to my garden, and eating avacados. Bliss.

Martinborough

Martinborough is a small village (population 1400) in the Wairarapa region of New Zealand. It just might be the cutest place in the world! It is full of sunshine, happiness and good wine. Martinborough is a 1.5 hour drive from Wellington, up state highway 2 through the curvy (scary) Rimutaka Mountains. Despite its proximity to rainy/windy Welly, Martinborough is lucky enough to have a different climate. The town is protected by the surrounding mountains and known as the driest spot in the north island.... prime growing conditions for pinot noir. It was the nicest weather I’ve experienced in NZ. Praise the lord.

The tiny little town square consists of a park, some cafes and shops, a colonial style hotel, and a “museum.” The roads leading out of the town square house over 40 vineyards. After our first two pre-noon tastings, it became necessary to abandon our car and hit the vineyards by foot. We merrily traipsed through the grapes all afternoon. It was delightful!

But It Cuts Off My Circulation...

I’ve been quietly observing a disturbing new trend in New Zealand. I didn’t want to believe it was true, but after having my hopes dashed one too many times, I finally asked a Kiwi for confirmation. “Do men wear wedding rings here?” The response: Some do; some don’t. Women still want diamonds, but it is becoming more and more common for men in their 20s and 30s to forgo the wedding ring. New Zealand will not conform!

I think I speak for all of womankind when I say: What in the SAM HELL are you trying to pull??This makes my job soooo much more difficult. When a girl reaches a certain age (25ish), she is trained to check out a man's finger even before checking out his butt.

• Red Light - Ring on finger. Abort mission.
• Yellow Light - Tanned finger with a band of white skin; also known as a “husband’s tan.” Proceed with caution. Determine if he is newly divorced (in which case, proceed with even more caution) or if he is simply hiding his ring in his pocket for the night.
• Green Light - No ring. Full steam ahead!

NZ's refusal to play by the rules is totally throwing me off my game. Imagine a girl’s disappointment when she discovers, for example, that a man who appeared to be a promising new prospect is actually the happily married father of 6-month-old baby. Quit playing games with my heart, young Kiwi male!

And, wives of NZ, I don’t understand your game either. You must be the promiscuous Kiwi women whom I’ve read so much about. Or are you just too trusting/gullible? I’m not a particularly jealous person, but I can assure you that my (imaginary) husband will be wearing a wedding ring.

Sugar Snake

Remember when I told you that New Zealand had giant earthworms? The same is true of their gummi worms! I enjoy the gummi variety much more. This is the closest thing to a snake you will find in New Zealand. They don't have bears either!

(The apple is pictured for scale.)

Mexican Sleeping Bean

Spring has brought different weather to Wellington , but not necessarily better weather. The days are either miserable or gorgeous – no in between – and I’ve never seen conditions change so suddenly. When it rains, it POURS, and the wind can only be described as violent. This picture shows what my deck looks like every morning. Why do we continue to leave these items outside only to be whipped about and cleaned up again and again?? Good question. Ask my roommate.

The temperature is usually in the upper 50s or lower 60s, but temperature isn’t the best measure of conditions. It all depends on the amount of sun and/or wind. It drops to the low 50s overnight. I can now sleep in this temperature relatively comfortably, which shocks me. It is testament to the ability of human beings to adapt to extreme conditions. Next thing you know, I’ll be covering my food in tomato sauce! I no longer bother to turn on my little electric heater overnight. It never made one bit of difference anyway.

However, the $20 I paid for my trusty fleece blanket is the BEST money I have ever spent. I told you that I was initially using the tightly wound “burrito method” to keep warm. I abandoned this for two reasons: 1) it is a bit warmer now; 2) it occurred to me that in the likely event of a fire caused by my electric heater, it would be impossible to quickly untangle myself from the fleece burrito wrap. The burrito wrap guarantees certain death.

I have now adopted the “taco method,” which involves folding the blanket over myself. You still have cozy fleece on both sides of your body, but you can easily slip out of the taco in case of emergency. Kiwi ingenuity at its best!!

The risk of fire/explosion seems to have diminished with the arrival of spring. However, Mother Nature has delivered a new danger to New Zealand. That violent wind can hurt you! A sheet of corrugated metal can apparently act as a sail, which is unfortunate because everything in this country is constructed from this material. (Don’t worry - the Maureen quoted in this article is not me. I have not married a foolish Kiwi roofer... yet.)

Boobs on Bikes

On Friday afternoon, I noticed the streets of Wellywood were busier than usual and people were standing around instead of walking. I thought to myself, “This is the biggest crowd of people I’ve seen in NZ. Something is up.” Then I heard the roar of motorcycle engines. It turns out that everyone was waiting for the Boobs on Bikes parade. Those promiscuous Kiwi women rode their way straight to Parliament! Dream big, little girls of New Zealand, dream big!

The parade is exactly what it sounds like - lots of boobs, lots of young Kiwi male spectators. A group of high school boys (easily identifiable in their school uniforms) sprinted down the street in a desperate attempt to keep up with the bikes. So young, so full of hope…

A guy next to me said, “You gotta have a lot of self-confidence to do that.” I think the exact opposite is true, but I can’t deny the mesmerizing appeal of Boobs on Bikes. My lunch hour was over before I knew it. I only had time to grab McDonald’s. And guess what… I’m not even embarrassed to admit to my fast food lunch. I proudly identify with all aspects of Americana this week, obesity included!

This is the reason I carry my camera with me at all times in NZ. You never know what you’re gonna see! Blogger may terminate my account if I publish objectionable content, so please email me if you’re feeling particularly lonely and need photographic evidence this event.

Newsflash, Part XVI

One time and one time only, I agree with a Kiwi reporter's approach to a news story. I, too, wonder how someone could be unintentionally punched in the head. The Mount Victoria tunnel, the scene of the crime, is one of the major routes connecting my neighborhood to the Welly city center. The incessant honking is very irritating. I would like to intentionally punch some of those drivers in the head.

Guy Fawkes Day

Even in New Zealand, Guy Fawkes Day (Nov 5) was completely overshadowed by the US election. Regardless, I still want to tell you about this holiday handed down from Britain. It's more like a tradition than a legitimate holiday. Guy Fawkes tried to blow up the Houses of Parliament back in the day. We celebrate his failed explosion by setting off an explosion of our own. This is THE night for fireworks in NZ! Fireworks are available for public purchase for only a few days in November. The selection has been severely restricted over the last decade, and sales have been limited to adults (imagine that!) because Kiwis tend to blow themselves up. No surprises there!

Sadly, I missed the big fireworks display along the Welly waterfront. Oh well, it was cold outside. An extended stay at the pub for Obama's victory celebration delayed dinner. I heard the fireworks mid-bite, then I realized we were the only people left in the restaurant.

Me: We're missing it!

Him: Sorry, I didn't think it would start until 10.

Me: Let's go!

Him: But we just got our food.

Me: But it's my first Guy Fawkes Day!

Him: But I'm hungry. You're just going to tell me it doesn't compare to the 4th of July anyway.

Me: Probably. [am I that easy to read??]

Him: You might be right. It's not that good.

Young Kiwi male, you need to work on your timing, but at least you know where you stand.

"A New Dawn"

At the risk of beating a dead horse, I must again tell you how closely NZ was following the election. It genuinely surprised me… in a good way. People all around the world stopped to hear Obama speak. It was my Wednesday evening, your late Tuesday night, but the same moment in time. It made the world feel both very big and very small. It really hit home. Everyone was watching and waiting for results, but you were one of the few who had the right to participate in the process. Even if your candidate didn’t win, I think you can still appreciate the significance of the event. I don’t know how divided the US is right now, but NZ is happy. They think we did a really cool thing!

I came across this AP article about how the election has affected American expats. My experience is not as dramatic, but the idea is the same. The last few months have opened my eyes to how the rest of the world views the US. I wasn't surprised, but it's still jarring to experience it firsthand. NZ is an easy-going country that occupies its own little corner of the world. It’s certainly not a hostile environment, but I’m regularly asked about the war on terror, Bushisms, Hurricane Katrina, civil liberties, etc, etc. It's almost always good-natured, but there have been a few conversations that went on long enough to make me uncomfortable... a few comments said with a tone that put me on the defensive.

The atmosphere was noticeably different today. People congratulated me; they asked intelligent questions; they expressed hope that the world would change for the better. I wasn’t the butt of any jokes. It sounds made-up and cheesy, but a Kiwi told me his faith in America was renewed. He said that New Zealand knows it is insignificant in the grand scheme of things so it looks to America for its lead, for support, for opportunity. That’s all changed in the last few years, but people are optimistic that it can change back. That Kiwi is only one person, but the AP article tells a similar story. I could go on, but the main point is that I’m more aware today than I was yesterday of America’s role in the world and how far-reaching its influence is.

But don’t take my word for it... go to the news! This was the lead story in New Zealand's capital city newspaper today. The front page featured a half-page photo of Obama with the headline “Change Has Come To America.” The rest of the front page was the article text, except for a small column in the bottom right corner. That column's headline was: “That Other Election.” What’s that other election? Oh nothing much… just Saturday’s election for Prime Minister of New Zealand, the highest office in all the land.

Note: Thanks for letting me say my piece. I'm done now. This has been very interesting to me, but it might be a “you had to be there” thing. I promise that N to the ZED will now return to important topics like boys and sheep.

Truly, Madly, Deeply

Dear America,

You're so far away, but I felt so close to you today. I know you've been doubting my loyalty lately. I can't say I blame you, but please remember that it's normal for relationships to go through these rough patches. This is just a break, not a break-up.

I admit that my affair has been totally cliche. I left your security, wealth and status for a younger country that was smaller in size and promised me a good time. I simply couldn't resist! I got carried away, but today got me thinking about all the good times we've shared. Just give me a little more time to sow my wild oats. If you allow me this fling, I promise I'll return to grow old with you.

New Zealand is fun, but my heart belongs to you, America.

Forever yours,

MoCo

President Obama

New Zealand is very pleased with your decision, dear readers! I didn't want to scare anyone, but I was pretty sure I'd need some type of political asylum if you had elected McCain. I mapped a route to the embassy just in case. The Kiwis would have run me and my weapons of mass destruction right out of town! Who would dare make such sweeping generalizations about a country and its people... ;)

My Kiwi co-workers played it cool until about 1:30pm today. At that point, only Kentucky and Vermont had been announced. They asked, "Maureen, what time is it in America?" For the rest of the afternoon, the only thing people talked about was the election. Everyone was checking different websites and comparing notes. They asked again, "Maureen, what time is it in America?" Well, if it was 7:30pm when you asked an hour ago, it is now 8:30pm. By the close of business, Obama had been announced as the winner.

Ever since the Phillies won the World Series, my young Kiwi male baseball fan has developed a sudden interest in American politics. After work, we went to a bar that had been showing CNN coverage of the election since 9am. It was packed to the gills with loud, drunk Americans (and Kiwis). The first thing I heard when I walked in was: "Shots for Barack!" The place fell completely silent when Obama came on to give his victory speech. Then everyone went wild when Obama said "And to all those watching tonight from beyond our shores..." It was very cool! The world really was watching. I will always remember that I was in an Irish pub in New Zealand for this moment of American history. Then I had Chinese food for dinner. What a melting pot!

I Think That I Shall Never See...

... a poem as lovely as a giant New Zealand tree.

By: Joyce Kilmer (with a Maureen C. twist)

Election Quiz

N to the ZED is a self-fulfilling prophecy! When I write about something, it tends to come true. Yesterday, I told you about my American trivia skills. Today, the newspaper dedicated its entire quiz to American politics. I dominated at office "morning tea!" This is obviously an homage to Election Day, Tues Nov 4, which hasn't happened for you, but is almost over for me.

Now you have 2 ways to show your patriotism today: 1) vote; and 2) take the NZ quiz! The correct answers appear in the comments.

1. Who formally selects the US president and vice president?
2. Who comes from the city of Wasilla?
3. What was the middle name of President Richard M. Nixon?
4. What was the nationality of Barack Obama's father?
5. Which US political party abolished slavery?
6. What do the letters "DC" stand for in Washington DC?
7. Which US president pushed the economic reforms known as the New Deal?
8. The US Senate and House of Representatives are jointly known as what?
9. Which part of the US Constitution guarantees freedom of religion, speech, and the press?
10. What make of car is currently used as the official limousine of the US president?

Seeing that I've been an American my entire life, you'd think the Kiwis would shut up and listen to me. But no... the office creep gives me lots of trouble with question #1.

Me: It's the electoral college.
Him: I don't know... what about all that controversy about choosing between Obama and Hillary... you know... don't some votes count more than others? Blah, blah, blah.
Me: Superdelegates?
Him: Yes, that's it.
Me: That's different.
Him: Hmm... I'm not sure.
Me: That's about the nominees. The question is about the winner.
Him: I don't know....
Me: It's the electoral college.

This quiz was right up my alley, but it still gave me an inferiority complex. The Kiwis knew many of the answers. I doubt Americans would fare as well in a quiz about foreign politics. Also, the Kiwis expected me to supplement my answers. They weren't satisfied to learn that FDR started the New Deal; they wanted me to explain the New Deal. I haven't thought about this since the 11th grade.

Of course, quiz time ends with questions about how I'll vote tomorrow and jokes about the war on terror. I explain that I voted weeks ago. I've already told you that people constantly ask who I voted for, but they also want to know the nitty-gritty details of how I voted from abroad. Much of this interest stems from media reports that absentee ballots weren't counted in the 2000 Bush/Gore election.

Hardly Working

My office recently changed its email program from Groupwise (which I had never even heard of) to Microsoft Outlook 2003. Hello, year 2002!! There were many, many hours of staff training behind this conversion. Ridiculous.

After one grueling training session, the young Kiwi male facilitator approached me. "You probably already know all this?" Well, since you asked... "Yeah, and 2003 isn't the most recent version of Outlook." I didn't realize how snotty this sounded until it was already out of my mouth. Luckily, he found it funny and not offensive. He explained that they have to use the 2003 version because some computers are still operating on Windows 2000. We shared a laugh over his country's backwards business practices.

Despite my above-it-all attitude, I'm really endearing myself to the Kiwis. I do next to nothing at this job, but the Kiwis think I'm super-productive. A little American work ethic goes a long way in New Zealand! I could have held down this job when I was 11... and email didn't even exist when I was 11. The most challenging part of my day is remembering to speak slowly and use Kiwi English. Everyone found it sooo funny that I told my boss to call his mom instead of his mum. If I was in America, I'd tell this guy to cut the apron strings and get back to work.

Watch your back, Helen Clark!* If I stayed in the NZ government, I could easily rise to the ranks of Prime Minister within a decade. Come to think of it, I'm pretty much qualified to run for VP of the US these days too. Sarah would surely agree that kissing a Kiwi counts as foreign policy experience.**

* Pay attention to paragraph 3 of the "early life" section of Helen's bio. You cried throughout your wedding ceremony because you had a headache? Really now??

** Not that I have or have not been involved in such activities.

I'll Take Outdated Games Shows for $200, Alex

Given the national obsession with trivia, you might be surprised to learn that New Zealand got its own version of "Who Wants To Be A Millionaire?" only within the last few months. This comes a full decade after Regis revived the game show genre in the US. The Kiwis have suffered through the British version for years, so they were thrilled to finally have a show they could call their very own. The happiness was short-lived because: 1) the show is taped in Australia... a total slap in the face; and 2) the questions are too difficult.

Read about a bitter contestant who walked away with zero dollars (which is actually much less than zero dollars because we're dealing in Kiwi money). Quit your bellyachin'! Where is that famous Kiwi ingenuity you're all so proud of? I suspect it won't be long before a clever contestant outsmarts the system and wins big. New Zealand will have a quiz show scandal on its hands, about 50 years behind the US. Right on target!

Riddle Me This

Forget rugby or cricket, New Zealand's true national pastime is trivia. Kiwis eat it up. Every written publication contains a quiz, and every bar has a weekly quiz night. Every morning around 10:15, my department gathers for "morning tea" to complete the quiz from the Wellington Dominion Post newspaper. It is serious business. The answers, which are already printed upside down, are further concealed to prevent cheating. The question is read aloud. We debate. We settle on an answer and move to question #2. This continues for 10 questions. We check the answers. The reader gives clues and "sounds like" hints for any questions we missed. The whole process takes about 35 minutes, and then it is almost time for my lunch break. The Kiwis are a hard-working and productive people.

The Kiwis are well-rounded, but I am good for only one thing. I am the office expert for American trivia. You don't know pressure until you have 10 sets of Kiwi eyes staring you down. I feel like their opinion of the US as a whole is dependent on my perceived intelligence. I don't feel smart when I answer the questions; I just feel relieved. To be honest, quiz time makes me feel stupid because I have such a narrow frame of reference. Their knowledge of America far surpasses my knowledge of any other country.

In any case, I'm the only one who knew the answer to these (pretty easy) American questions: What does UCLA stand for? What city's transportation system is known as BART? What political couple was implicated in Whitewater? What is John McCain's home state? What author lived at Walden Pond? What state is abbreviated MT?

It's no coincidence that New Zealand has a gaming addiction. The anti-gambling PSAs are outnumbered only by the pokies. Buy just about any item at just about any store and you'll automatically be "entered in the draw" to win some fabulous prize. Today at work, we placed bets on the Melbourne Cup. Keep in mind that New Zealand typically refuses to associate with Australia. Cross your fingers for my guy Gallopin! He's one of the only Kiwi horses in the race. I stand to win 50 big ones!

Newsflash, Part XV

A random smattering of recent NZ news:

• "Try to Trick Vomit Man if You Dare" - I just said that Halloween was no big deal in NZ, but this Kiwi woman is the exception. Someone should tell her that Monica Lewinsky isn't blonde.

• In other news that will make you want to vomit, read about NZ's entry into the "soft meat" industry.

• "Wild Sex in the Sanctuary" - I dare you to resist clicking on this headline.

• This article includes interviews with American expats voting from NZ. Bob from Missouri would vote for Obama... if only all his political views were different. I have to work, so I'll miss NZ's election day coverage. (I feel like I'm eavesdropping when I watch NZ coverage of American news). Please send email updates on your Tuesday evening (my Wednesday afternoon) to keep me amused at the office. I'm looking forward to the end of the election so the Kiwis finally stop grilling me about my voting record.

HalloweeNZ

Several of you have asked if New Zealand celebrates Halloween. Not really. They know it's Halloween, but costume parties and trick-or-treaters are rare. A few Kiwis told me that Halloween has become more popular over the years as a result of American influences, but it's still not a very big deal.

The fortnightly work NOSH (aka: national office social hour, Drinkie Friday) had a Halloween theme. Again, it was so budget and so fun. People took turns wearing a witch hat. Fake spiderwebs hung from the ceiling, and the boardroom windows were covered in something like black saran wrap. (I was shocked to learn it was still daylight when this was taken off the windows at 7pm last call.... kind of like when you exit a movie theatre in the middle of the day.) For food, there was a bowl of fruit snacks and a platter of corn dogs with that gross NZ tomato sauce. They had 2-for-1 drink specials on soon-to-be expired beer.

We continued on to the bars after NOSH, but it was just like any other night out in Welly. The only sign of Halloween was a plastic knife sticking out of a bartender's skull. A few girls were dressed like slutty nurses, slutty cats, or other types of sluts. But, as you know, this isn't exactly a costume for the Kiwi woman.

We Won!!!

Because Alex asked so nicely, I will dedicate a blog post to the World Champion Philadelphia Phillies. Woohoo!!! I was at work when the Phillies won. I learned of the victory via a post-it note placed on my computer by my young Kiwi male "baseball fan." It reminded me of when Berger broke up with Carrie, except my post-it note shared happy news.

The whole thing was a bit anti-climactic in New Zealand, but I know everyone at home is having lots of fun. A few of my Philly readers have described this as the best night of their lives. The one exception is the sad story of a reader who attended game 5 but missed out on witnessing history due to the 2 day rain delay. As the Kiwis would say... Bugger!

My sister and future brother-in-law (quite possibly the happiest man on earth right now... get a load of that smile!) shared some pictures from the game night celebration and Friday's victory parade. It wouldn't be a real Philly party without a beer bong and an idiot climbing on the signs.