Office Holiday Party, Round 2

The holiday party was the inaugural event for the newly renovated space on floor 2. There had been much debate on how to best utilize this space. Some people wanted shower facilities (a lot of crazy Kiwis bike/run to work). Others wanted more meeting rooms. In the end, they decided to make it into a bar. I kid you not.

The buffet included sausages and Christmas ham. However, there were no buns or rolls in which to sandwich your meat. Instead, there were platters of heavily buttered white bread. Disgusting.

The new area has plenty of open space for... dancing! Yes, it was a dance party. Yes, there was strobe lighting. Yes, I was in my glory. They hired a professional DJ. By about 8pm, both the lighting and people's inhibitions had been turned way down low. What song finally got people moving? "Living on a Prayer." Works every time! I don't think it was supposed to be 80s night, but it just so happens that most songs were from that decade, or else they were oldies. The only exception was Katy Perry's "Hot 'n Cold." Very October 2008. The party was very much like a wedding, in terms of musical selection and in terms of the mixed crowd. Many older employees obviously don't drink/dance that often anymore.

Best dancer of the night? Slick Ultra, hands down. He is a mean breakdancer! I can't believe I didn't mention this sooner, but there is a 40-year-old employee whose legal name is Slick Ultra. He was baptized as Stuart. I wish I had a photo. I still haven't decided if he wears a wig or if his hair is naturally that crazy.

In an effort to protect the new carpeting from spills, the entire floorspace was covered with tarps taped together and then taped to the wall. This seems like a good idea at first, but what do you think happens when people spill their drinks on the tarps? It was a virtual slip 'n slide by the end of the night. One tequila, two tequila, three tequila, floor.

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

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.

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.

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.")

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.

World Series Update

While you were watching game 2 of the World Series on Thursday night, I was "working" on Friday afternoon. My co-worker continues to attempt to keep me informed about the games. He passes along updates from mlb.com. Sometimes they don't make sense.

Him: 4-2 in the bottom of the 9th.
Me: Good, the Phillies are winning.
Him: No, the Phillies are losing.
Me: I think the game is in Florida? There wouldn't be a bottom of the 9th if the Phillies were losing.
Him: Oh, well... um... let me check.
Me: Yeah, you do that.
Him: It's the top of the 9th. You were right.

Don't you forget it, young Kiwi male! The American girl is always right.

Another note about work on Friday -- I assumed work drinking would be canceled because it was NZ's Labour Day Weekend. Who wants to stay late at the office when a 3-day holiday weekend awaits? The Kiwis, that's who!! The office fridge was cleared out to make room for beer at 11:17am. I got nervous when 4:00 rolled around and no one had yet made a move, but the Kiwis didn't let me down. 12th Floor Drinkie Friday was in full swing by 4:30pm.

Can you please confirm...?

Post-NOSH, a new work acquaintance invited me out with his friends. An impromptu free-association game erupted when he introduced me as a Philadelphian. They yell out: cheesteak, 76ers, Flyers, Phillies, liberty bell. Very good, Kiwis! A guy from South Africa claims to be a huge Eagles fan.

I'm asked if I'll be voting soon, the logistics of voting from abroad, and who I voted for. I've had this discussion 4 times this week alone. They come right out with it. "Nice to meet you. Who will you vote for?" Lay off me, Kiwis! I mailed my absentee ballot this week. (By the way, you won't be very popular if your answer is John McCain.)

I really like this group because they are fun, make ridiculous claims about the US, give me all kinds of crap about being American, and let me do the same about New Zealand (I usually don't say this stuff aloud). I believe the ability to laugh at oneself is an essential personality trait, but I've also wondered whether the degree to which I enjoy insults is healthy. Note to self: Schedule therapy.

• I'm asked to confirm that the best thing about going to bars in America is buffalo wing night. Well, I never really thought about it...
• I'm asked to confirm that an American who attends an Ivy League school is set for life.
• Lyle tells me his name is very common in America, just like George. I've never met a Lyle and I can think of only one George. He asks, "What about W. and his father?" I don't know the Bushes personally, and not all citizens share a name with their president.
• Someone says I must be excited to get a free Dr. Pepper if Guns 'n Roses finally release Chinese Democracy this year. I guess I missed this March 2008 announcement. I do not like Dr. Pepper.
• South Carolina comes up in a discussion of possible places I might live upon my return to the US. The reaction: "South Cackalacky?! I thought you said you voted for change? But they do have proper barbecue restaurants there, don't they? That would be nice."
• A guy trying to coax me onto the dance floor says I must have moves because I'm from Philly. "Why? What have you heard about Philly?" He says, "Oh, you know, just what Will Smith said. In west Philadelphia born and raised...."
• Other random comments - NZ won WWII for the US. The US is responsible for the hole in the ozone layer above NZ. The world series isn't really a world series. Blah, blah, blah.

The guy from work makes a passing remark about being single. Woah, back up...

• Me: I thought you told me last week that you had a girlfriend?
• Him: Well yeah. I had a girlfriend last week, but not anymore.
• Me: Oh. But didn't you say you lived together for 5 years?
• Him: Yeah, that's why I wasn't at work on Monday. I moved her out.

Young Kiwi male, do you mean to tell me that you've been mercilessly making fun of me all night AND you're on the rebound!?! Game on.

Scotland, NZ

This Thursday, people started asking whether I would attend NOSH on Friday. I assumed this was some type of important meeting. Wrong. National Office Social Hour.

Last weeks' Drinkie Friday was only for my department; NOSH is a fortnightly event for the whole office. Departments take turns planning the NOSH and selecting a theme. Yes, it is a theme party! This week was "Scotland." At 3:45pm, people began sneaking off to the bathroom to change into kilts and tartan scarves. We moved down to the large 7th floor conference room at 4pm.

I wish you could have been there, dear readers! This is as close as I will ever get to a Dunder-Mifflin office party. The conference room houses a true bar. Drinks are $3 (a real bar charges ~$7), or you can buy a laminated hole-punch NOSH card that gets you 10 drinks for $25. The concept is similar to Schrute Bucks and Stanley Nickels.

Rugby jerseys hung from a makeshift clothesline. Tea towels and various other pictures of Scotland were taped to the windows. The walls were plastered with low-resolution photos of famous Scots, such as Annie Lennox, Billy Connelly and... Ronald McDonald. (Isn't he a red-blooded American??) Fat Bastard was conspicuously absent from this collage, so I've pictured him here. There was a 2 page print-out of Scottish facts. Someone had circled a "fact" about the coat of arms and handwritten "WRONG" across the page. That was all the entertainment I needed, but then the bagpiper showed up! And the haggis was presented! And the winner of the costume contest was awarded a bottle of Scottish whiskey!

Everyone is pretty loose at these official work functions; no boundaries between work life/social life. Someone spilled red wine on my white purse. Also, they wouldn't know an inappropriate comment if walked right up and stroked their arm. I surely have grounds for a sexual harassment lawsuit, if only their New Zealand dollars were worth something.

The Kiwis stormed the bar when NOSH announced last call at 7pm. As if there aren't 50 places within walking distance that will be open until 5am...

Good To The Last Drop

Oh, you Cheeky Little Sav! You make momma feel so good.

Working Girl, Part 3

Naturally, Drinkie Friday at work resulted in humiliation. You probably predicted this. Hey, don't ever accuse me of learning from my mistakes!

The office bathrooms are located in the stairwell and you need to swipe your ID to get back in to the main floor. Drinkie Friday lasts into the night, and I learn the hard way that my temporary ID card hasn't been enabled with 24-hour access. After unsuccessfully swiping my ID about 20 times, I accept that I am trapped in the stairwell. For some unknown reason, I decide to walk from the 12th floor up to the 13th floor. Can't get in there either. Then I walk down to the 11th floor because that is usually open to the public, but it is also locked after 5pm. I go back up to the 12th floor. The Kiwi women are downing the wine like water, and I figure one of them will come to the bathroom soon enough and I'll sneak back in. So I wait... and wait... and wait. Finally, I bang on the door until someone comes to my rescue. When I return to the party, everyone says they assumed I went home without saying goodbye. Americans are so rude!

For my next trip to the bathroom (the wine was flowing freely on Drinkie Friday), I borrow someone else's ID so I can get back in. I do this on the sly so as not to call attention to myself. Then my boss sees me heading down the hallway and yells, "No Maureen! Wait! Remember you'll get locked out!" Yes, thank you for reminding everyone.

I've had enough embarrassment for one night. In a rare display of good judgement, I limit myself to only one tequila shot with the co-workers. I have to face these people again on Monday morning.

Working Girl, Part 1

Big news! I have successfully infiltrated the New Zealand government. I have taken on a new full-time job in addition to my part-time job. I'm a glutton for punishment. I regret this decision almost immediately, but it will only last a few weeks. Plus, this exposes me to a whole new side of the Kiwi culture. I should know better than to blog about work (you're fired!), but I feel compelled to tell you to start searching for jobs in New Zealand right now. Employment is one big party.

A peek inside the office kitchen cupboard gives me the first clue. One shelf of coffee mugs, one shelf of drinking glasses, and one shelf of wine glasses. While searching for office supplies, I come across a filing cabinet full of cases (plural!) of beer. Later, my supervisor tells me to make sure no one breaks into the booze supply. I'm on it, boss! He asks if I have an adequate supply of rubbers. Who has he been talking to?! I know he's referring to rubber bands, but this still makes me laugh. He also tells me they usually have "some wines" on Fridays if I'm interested. Yes, very much so. Just to make sure we're totally clear on this, he reminds me again on Thursday, "Remember we're having drinkies tomorrow" (accompanied by the international gesture for drinking - tilting an imaginary glass to his mouth). Oh believe me, I most certainly will not forget about the drinkies.

This isn't unique to my department. Dawn's office does the same thing. It's not as if they leave early to go to happy hour or congregate in the conference room at 4:30 for a quick drink before going home. They simply pour themselves a glass of wine at their desk and continue "working." Who isn't at her best when she's under the influence? Not the Kiwis! Not me!

I know other countries have relaxed attitudes toward drinking, but this still surprises me. I don't think it would be allowed in the American workplace, right?? At least not in a government office. Cheers to you, taxpayers of New Zealand! Thank you for the beer.

Don't Try This at Home

Why hang your laundry outside when you have access to a perfectly good dryer? There is no reason.

1. But you are trying to find a simpler way of life in New Zealand, so on that rare sunny day, you decide to do like the Kiwis.

2. But it's not that easy. You have to scale a hill to reach the platform under the clothesline... no simple task when you're in flip-flops and balancing a basket on your hip.

3. But you do it! And you're so proud of yourself that you photograph your linens blowing in the breeze. What a refreshing change of pace!

4. But it's New Zealand, so that sunny moment soon turns to rain.

5. But you're not from New Zealand, so you don't immediately connect the weather with laundry. It takes 20 minutes to realize you need to get the stuff off the line.

6. Now you're all wet.

7. The sheets are wet too, but there are other clothes in the dryer. Okay, save the sheets for the next load.

8. But you have plans to meet someone for dinner. Fine, deal with this when you get home.

9. But it's one of those "dinners" that go until 2am. You can't possibly stay awake another 40 minutes to put the sheets in the dryer. They're a little damp, but so what? You're so tired! Just make the bed and go to sleep.

10. You wake up with something like pneumonia.

Aftermath

Did you ever wake up after a night out and groggily roll over to find something unexpected and unwelcome staring you in the face? You wonder - Did I really do that? How did this thing get in my bedroom? What was I thinking? On Sunday morning, I stumble upon this evidence of Saturday night's sins. TimTams, you never stood a chance.

Play that Funky Music

They're hiding from the DJ! On Saturday I went to the San Francisco Bathhouse, which fancies itself as "Wellington’s premiere live music venue featuring an eclectic mix of local, national and international acts cutting across many genres, subgenres, scenes and micro-scenes."

Hmm... the playlist doesn't exactly support this claim. It is a normal Saturday night, not 90s hip-hop night. These are the first 4 songs I hear.

• Kris Kross - "Jump" Remember these backwards dressing pre-pubescents? Wiggity wiggity wiggity wack!


• Naughty by Nature - "Hip Hop Hooray"


• Montel Jordan - "This is How We Do It"


• Salt n Pepa - "Push It" "This dance aint for everybody, only the sexy people."

Don't get me wrong - I love this cheesy music, but it's not exactly cutting edge. The rest of the playlist was just as entertaining, but the memory gets hazy after 4 songs. I believe Annie Lennox had us "Walkin' on Broken Glass."

The musical laughs continued into Sunday. "Can't Touch This" was playing in the grocery store (I told you it was on the TV weather report too! Hammer is huge!) and then I heard some Arrested Development in a coffee shop. I had forgotten that AD was a band before it was an awesome TV show. I'm so glad to have Mr. Wendal back in my life after all these years. The social justice message is just as relevant today as it was in 1993.

Tea for Two

The Alice in Wonderland club that so rudely denied us entrance on a Tuesday afternoon is more welcoming at 3am on a Saturday. Cocktails are served in teapots, which makes me feel very ladylike. Seating is in the form of bean bag chairs, which guarantees a decidedly un-ladylike disembarkment after a few pots of "tea."

Many clubs are open until 5 or 6am. I find that the social acceptability of morning partying is largely dependent on the beverage container. The teacup transitions from night to day more smoothly than a beer bottle. For another example, consider the mimosa. A champagne glass adds a touch of class to any breakfast. Or at least that's what I tell myself. Denial is a beautiful thing!

Caroline suggests it is advantageous to stay out all night because it is cheaper to take the morning bus home instead of a cab. I point out that any transportation savings are offset by the amount of "tea" we continue to buy. She devises a solution: "Let's flirt with boys."

Scrabulous!

For the first time in weeks, I have an "appointment." I meet my new Irish friend Caroline for lunch. Lunch involves wine followed by shopping. We try to get into an Alice in Wonderland-themed club, but it is closed at 4pm on a weekday. Go figure. That doesn't stop Caroline from squeezing through a gate to scope out the club for the future. I'm too much of a baby (or a law-abiding citizen) to follow. She is promptly escorted out by a man with a padlock. We go to a bar to drink beer and eat fruitburst (similar to starburst). Then we go to another bar for wine and scrabble night. Booze, candy, board games... this is my kind of girl! I get my butt kicked at scrabble. Does anyone know that aa is a type of lava? Anyone?? This is all good fun for a Tuesday, but we decide that we need to really go out this weekend. I don't want to get all "single white female," but I may have to ask her to be my NZ BFF.

All Blacks Pummel Australia

After hearing Colin's rugby stories, there is no way I'm going to miss the big NZ vs. Australia match. I plan to watch with some people I met this week. I'm under the impression our group will be mixed gender and mixed levels of sports knowledge, but it is just me, 3 British guys and 1 Kiwi guy who are very into rugby. We go to a hole-in-the-wall pub, Dog's Bollocks, and they immediately order whiskey. I wonder if this was a smart idea. I mentally re-trace the route home in case I need to leave. But I hold my own :) The pub quickly fills up, and everyone happily sings along to the national anthem. The All Blacks begin each match with the haka, a traditional Maori dance meant to intimidate the opponent. The crowd goes wild. The table next to us is filled with women in their 60s who are going through beer as fast as anyone else in the place.

After the match, we go to the clubs to celebrate NZ's victory. The Kiwis love their early 90s dance music. Then again, who doesn't enjoy a little C&C Music Factory once in a while? I stay out until 5am even though I have to catch a bus to Wellington at 8am. Ugh. As we part ways, one of the guys plays it real cool and asks, "So what are your plans for Christmas?" (It is August 2nd.) He wonders if I want to barbecue a chicken on the beach. Sure, mate.

Rugby School

We are the only 2 people at a Friday afternoon tour of the Red Lion Brewery in Auckland. The tour is supposed to end with a 20 minute taste test. This turns into an hour of drinking and chatting with Colin, a nice Kiwi gentleman who has retired from running his online wine shop and now gives brewery tours "5 times fortnightly." He is a bit quiet until I inquire about tomorrow's big match-up between the NZ All Blacks (national rugby team) and Australia. Although he claims not to be a big fan, he lights up and talks on and on about the sport. We learn about rugby's place in NZ culture, the rules of the game, how it compares with American football, and the inside scoop on tomorrow's match. There is some added drama because the Australian coach is a Kiwi who was denied the job of NZ All Blacks' head coach. Colin played rugby into his late 20s, at which point his wife warned him, "I think you ought to have a think about this." With 3 previous broken noses, the doctors said a 4th would require a bone graft from his hip. Colin's parting advice to us - beware of the young Kiwi male.