I don't think I will ever get used to sinks with separate hot and cold water faucets. Nor do I want to. In all my years of traveling, this has got to be my top pet peeve of first-world traveling. How does one work this out? It's all fine and good if you are just brushing your teeth and only cold water is required, but how does one wash their hands or face with actual WARM water? What ends up happening, and I know you all do this too, is darting your sudsy hands back and forth under both faucets desperately searching for a comfortable temperature, freezing, scalding, freezing, scalding, freezing, scalding, WTF people? Isn't it more expensive to have two faucets rather than one that merges water together for whatever perfect temperature your little heart desires? I'm glad no one can see me doing this in the bathroom. It's awkward. I'm uncomfortable with myself. Oww, brrr, oww, brrr, oww, brrr, oww, brrr. I could just wash my hands and/or face with cold water, but why should I when that hot water spigot (that's a favorite Maine word) is just staring me in the face, begging to be used? I am too spleeny (another Maine word) to just use the cold. I am surprised they don't make showers with two spigots, hot and cold. Weird.
Also weird is my continued obsession with food. And my piercing, relentless, unforgiving hangovers. I am definitely getting old. No wonder why people quit boozing all the time at around my age. It hurts. Not in that I'm-hugging-the-porcelain-throne-and-dry-heaving-thinking-about-each-individual-tequila-shot-I-had-last-night-and-I-am-never-drinking-again way. But more in the ooooooohhhhhhhh-wine-is-really-good-in-New-Zealand way. It's not the tequila that hates me, its my own 29-going-on-30-year-old body that hates me. I don't understand because it's just grapes really, old grapes, so its like having a hangover from a fruit salad. Who gets a hangover from a fruit salad? Me. Effin' me.
Oh right, back to food. So I have this lovely new friend at work, Joelle, who shares my love of booze and food. We usually keep each other abreast about delicious things in the world. The first time we worked together in the day, she brought along a bottle of Baileys to put in our coffee, you know, just to give us a little pep in the step to start the day. Well, I pretty much knew then and there that we were going to be good friends. I realized last night whilst laughing heartily, that we start almost every sentence we say to one another with "Hey, you know what's REALLY good......." and then fill in the blanks with some sinful concoction of chocolate or ice cream or baileys or all three......Or some fantastic cocktail that we had once or what would be good mixed with the liquor we have at work. If we are not eating together, we are thinking about what we are going to eat or drink together 'next time'. She likes bloody marys too, but I'll be damned if there is a good place in Queenstown to get a bloody mary. We decided we have to make our own mix. Joelle, if you are reading this, I like you a lot. You have made my time at Finz glorious. The sign outside of our restaurant now reads "Baileys and white chocolate cheesecake, eat it or the waitresses will......Keep Queenstown beautiful"
So the other day I found myself on a break between shifts watching a pretty crap Bruce Willis movie with a friend and his flatmate. Since they were pretty much talking through the whole movie, I decided to join in as well. It was one of those ones where Bruce is wandering through the steamy jungle with black dirt on his face the whole time trying to save everyone. You know. Anyway, I abruptly proclaimed, "I don't understand war", to which my friend replied "How can you not understand war? You're American!" Ok fair enough, but truthfully I'm a pretty crap American when its all said and done. Especially because I was born in Canada. But what I meant was, I don't understand the rules of war, like who can kill who and when and how and all that. So they started explaining to me a little about how it works, like you can't just go shooting anyone you want whenever you want with whatever weapon you want and I said 'why not'? It's a fight right? And nothing is fair in a fight and there are no rules so isn't that pretty much the same thing?" No Sara, it's not. So in order to understand (in Sara terms remember, I only process and comprehend things in the context of my own world) I began a series of interrogations regarding different scenarios in potential war scenes and whether or not they would be acceptable. They sat there, utterly entertained by my ignorance, and answered my questions about whether or not you could drop a bomb here or use numchuks in hand-to-hand combat. After all I had to take advantage of these experts (two dudes who like bang-bang movies) while I had their attention. My last questionable scenario was whether or not I could dress up in a gingham or plaid uniform (cuz you know, the outfit is very important to tricking the enemy) and throw a ninja star at a civilian who is approaching me, perhaps to attack, perhaps not. Chris basically said "Duh, Sara, only ninjas can use ninja stars!" That pretty much ended the conversation, but began my newfound obsession with ninja stars.
Next door to the restaurant I work at is another, more upscale establishment owned by the same people. The other day an Indian couple was dining at the upscale next-door place outside, seated on the wharf, directly over the lake enjoying (presumably) their lunch. At one point, the woman dropped her glasses into the lake and waved the server over with great urgency. "Excuse me, but I dropped my glasses into the lake!" she proclaimed. The server looked at the woman and offered "I'm sorry?" and stood there awkwardly. Then the woman barked "Aren't you going to get them for me?" To which the server replied "No I am not going to jump in the lake to get your glasses for you. You dropped them, and they are yours, so if you want them, you have to get them yourself". Clearly pissed off, the woman furiously looked around for assistance and demanded "Well, aren't there any poor people around to get them?" Jeesh. A bit harsh, eh? I guess it's a touch different the 'ole caste society over there in India. "Sure ma'am let me just go grab you an Untouchable from the corner of Beach Street here in Queenstown and have him jump in freezing cold glacial water because you dropped your sunnies in the lake, just stay put there, I'll be right back....."
India must be a trip. Literally. Can't wait to go and see it for myself!
