My Birthday "celebration"

This post could also fall under the "oops I probably shouldn't have done that" posts, it was that special a celebration.

My birthday was a couple of weeks ago (just go "oh crap I didn't say anything"? Belated wishes are still being accepted, no late fees apply) and my host family wanted to make it memorable. Despite the drinking age only being 18 here, the big thing to do on your 21st birthday is to drink a yardie. A yardie is one of those giant yard glasses that holds a lot more liquid than you might think, and for your 21st you fill it with beer.

The object during this "celebration" is to drink the beer as fast as possible. My host parents both did theirs around 3:30, and both gloriously puked it all back up almost immediately. They even told me that there's a 99% chance I'll do the same. So I began to mentally prepare.

Come my birthday we set out to buy the yardie and the beer. These things aren't cheap--we found a steal for only $35. Most were about $90. Then I had to get beer. My options were pretty limited and I wanted to drink something familiar so I wasn't chugging some weird, foreign beer that tasted horrible. My best option was Carona. Not ideal, but it was that or something I wouldn't bother giving to a homeless man. NZ beer=not the best.

The other part of preparation involves pouring the beer as early as possible the day of consumption to flatten it--chugging with bubbles isn't as easy. So I did just that the moment we got home with the beer. In the end the yardie held seven bottles of beer. Throughout the day I kept checking to see I'd the bubbles were still around and taking a whiff of the Carona and the lime I had added to it. Smelled delicious. I was ready.

We had homemade pizzas that night for dinner. Delicious, but I had to hold back because I didn't want to puke up an entire pie. Then came the moment after the kids went to bed and Brendon and Shanelle were ready too. You need a "pourer" to help out because the yardie needs to be twisted as the liquid comes out. Otherwise too much will flow from the bottom and splash all over your face. Brendon was the pourer and Shanelle was the photographer.

Well let me tell you, despite my expectations, flat and room temperature beer is not very tasty. It was nasty. Horrible. Disgusting. I was so shocked by the taste I lost concentration. I was trying to chug as much as possible but I slowed down about halfway through. I had chugged almost four beers in about 90 seconds. I wanted to keep chugging but my stomach wasn't having it. I had to resort to giant gulps one at a time. But soon I felt that rumbling and had to stop despite the cheers of my host parents telling me to finish. I thought I was going to lose it, but I willed y stomach to hold up. I said I'd rather finish this thing and not puke even I'd it takes me forever.

As I continues to struggle towards the finish one gulp at a time I got some encouragement by two year old Ella who had woken up and come outside. She started clapping her hands and repeating whatever her mom said. How could I not be enthused by a two year old cheering on a guy chugging beer? Several times I thought I was going to lose it, but I felt more determined as the chugging went on to not spew. Finally I got the last gulp down. Completed! Finished! I did it!

My time? 25 minutes. Apparently that's just not even acceptable. I tried to claim hey I didn't puke, something almost unheard of. But of course the locals just said it was only cause I took ten years to do it. But I thought of it as a power hour done in half the time or less, plus an extra beer. Brendon and Shanelle teased me for taking so long, but I was happy just to not puke. So take what you will.

But I now have a new task for all my friends back home on their next birthday. I will be the pourer, and everyone will do a yardie. Maybe someday I'll do another one just for kicks and try and not be the slow poke.

Heart-stopping football!

In one of the best football weekends I can remember, both Stanford and the Redskins kicked field goals to win the game.

Stanford made up for a horrific error after missing a PAT and dramatically drove down the field with just over a minute left. I love Andrew Luck. The Redskins improbably held down the Packers offense and Graham Gano redeemed himself late after missing a fg earlier in the quarter. Then Landry had that interception (btw, he has the biggest biceps of any human being I know), and the miracle comeback was completed soon thereafter.

To continue the great streak the Redskins are on Sunday night football this week, meaning the game is broadcast on the ESPN channel here and I get to watch my first 'skins game of the year. Maybe we'll pull off another upset. I've got to tape the game because it happens when I'm playing rugby, so I'll just have to ignore my phone and the Internet until the kids have stopped watching playhouse Disney and I can enjoy watching something more than highlights.

Go Cardinal! Hail to the Redskins!

Special Police Training

New Zealand is hosting the world cup of rugby next year, and it's the biggest event the country has ever held. With the world cup comes a need for increased security and proper training for the proper authorities.

To help some local cops with their training the academy volunteered the boys or a morning. We were supposed to act as a rowdy crowd, a belligerent and obnoxious group. We were told to try and get through an open part of the fencing around the stadium for the first part, and then to try and resist the cops during the second part while in an open field.

But these cops were just going through the motions. They had helmets and shields, and they warned us that if we got too rough they wouldn't hold back in using their batons and had no qualms with inflicting injury. I seemed slightly hesitant until we were told the following: we would be supplies with bottles and cans to throw at the cops. They WANTED us to throw stuff at them. They needed the preparation.

I couldn't say no to that opportunity. When can someone say they got to throw stuff at cops without fear of being arrested? Almost never. Like me the other boys saw how awesome this chance was so we all went all out. We filled up the bottles with water and when we rounded the corner to get through the fence we chucked everything as hard as possible. I got a cop on the leg pretty solidly. Hitting a cop with a heavy bottle and seeing them buckle slightly is oddly satisfying.

There were times when we even stole a couple of batons, which their boss had told us before "if you guys do that, I'm gonna rip them a new one." We ended up stealing five, and the look on one cop's face when we took it from him was like he had just soiled himself. Priceless. But kids don't try this at home, unless you feel like getting a rap sheet.

We've got cable!

Last week my host family decided to upgrade from the free basic channels to sky tv, the local version of digital cable. It's a big deal.

The girls now won't watch movies all day, they can watch Disney, Disney playhouse, animal planet, and even nickelodeon. It's great for everyone else too because now there's new programming every twenty minutes to occupy the kids instead of watching the same movie three times in one day. Better yet there's "my sky," which is basically TiVo, so we can record anything too.

Of course, I'm pumped because sky tv also cones with ESPN. It's not just live ESPN from home but an international feed from Australia. But it does include live Sportcenters from Bristol and PTI, my favorite show. I hadn't seen an episode in five months. And ESPN even broadcasts the Sunday night football games. This way I can watch the Redskins get clobbered by the Colts in a few weeks.

There are, however, the problems of being sucked in by the tv. Shanelle and Brendon have definitely had to repeat themselves to the kids and each other because someone is so keyed in on what's on tv. Some dirty looks have been thrown along with some frustrating ahems. But I'm just happy to have my ESPN, no complaining from me.

My new nickname

My new nickname

I like nicknames. They're fun. I've had the same once since 4th grade, but the boys at the academy recently came up with one I never expected.

One morning a couple weeks ago before a group meeting we had a few moments so one of the coaches said "Ok guys since we've got some time let's work on out vocabulary." Apparently from time to time they'll just throw out words to expand their knowledge. The boy in front of me turned and said "What was that long and confusing one someone mentioned earlier? You know?" I paused for a moment and said, "You mean audacity?" "Yeah! That one!"

So he raised his hand and shouted it out. No surprise the coach asked if anyone knew. No surprise again, I was the only one that knew. I explained, everyone nodded, and we were asked for more words. I thought what the heck, I'll just start naming WOW words (words of the week) from 8th grade English.

I suddenly became the star. I knew all these "weird" and "random" words these guys thought were hilarious. I was the only one that knew their meanings. I felt like the smartest English student in class, ironic since my friends from home can attest that I do not have the world's biggest vocabulary and am a horrific speller. Nevertheless I threw out words like pique, ominous, and atrocious. Soon I scaled back a bit realizing I could use something more common place like intrusive or vex.

By the last few words when they all still had no idea of the meanings, boys began to say "Just ask dictionary over here." Even the next morning, when I was explaining rigidity during a core workout, one guy called me "dictionary boy."

So now I am referee to as dictionary. Simple and short, I'm not the one with the expansive vocab who knows all these words. I can only laugh at how ironic it seems to me given my past, and my high school friends will particularly smile reading this post. Cullen, you still have that list?

The NZ List

I enjoyed making my list for Australia a few months ago, so I thought I'd compile another one from my experiences here in New Zealand. Enjoy.

1) At first I thought their accents would be just slightly off from Australian accents. I was right. The difference? A slight infusion of what sounds like a Boston accent. That and they say "eh" like Canadians. It's all quite infuriating.

2) NZ people are called Kiwis, the Kiwi is the national animal. But it's nocturnal and admittedly impossible to see in the wild. And it's only in very dark nocturnal spaces in certain wildlife parks. For being such an important image of the country it's shockingly hard to see. I've seen one, and that was considered lucky.

3) in America we have chips and French fries. In England fries are called chips and chips are called crisps; same deal for Australia. In New Zealand both are chips, you just have hot chips and cold chips. I find this irritating and unnecessarily confusing.

4) Many people know the stat the ratio of sheep to people here is 10:1. But that ratio is getting smaller because the wool industry over here is going down the tube. More lamb chops for everyone!

5) On the subject of animals, one non-native species here is the possum, and it has no natural predators so they just multiply. There are 80 million here. Not thousand, million!

6) If you use google maps to go from one main city to another it doesn't say "stay on highway one for two hours" because everything is so small the main roads go through each town. So your directions have an additional 649165 steps to stay on this road or that one. Old school maps rule the day here.

7) You could probably write a thesis on this subject, but the relationship with the native people in NZ is 100% different than the situation in Australia. Think of Australia's situation as how we handled the American Indians, and with the native Maori people and European settlers the cultures are now harmoniously intertwined, respectful of each other, and there is crossover in many ways during everyday life.

8) NZ cops don't carry fire arms. At all. Nothing. That's nuts, it's insane. Two cops have died in the past two years, and seven others were shot and wounded. Dear NZ, wake up!

9) In NZ they rank schools on a scale of 1-10 based on family incomes, with 1 being the poorest schools. The lower the ranking the more government funding they get. Interesting approach; of course the rich parents just complain their kids are getting shorted.

10) This country is obsessed with rugby, but it is also very into net ball. It's like basketball except there are no backboards and no dribbling. If you have the ball you can only take one step--and the same if you're the defender of the player with the ball. Otherwise you can move freely; but if your opponent is open and it's your person it's basically a free shot at the basket. My nomination for most worthless sport.

11) They don't yield to pedestrians here. At all. It's not a law or anything. So I've stood at an intersection for five whole minutes just waiting.

12) There are never street address up. You may see one address for every ten buildings. Trying to find a particular place while driving is especially vexing.

13) They call water polo underwater hockey.

My Sassy Girl

Shanelle and Brendon are big movie fans. They have a huge collection, and for the most part they are mainstream movies from back home. Shanelle is also very much into chick flicks, and always rents a few movies a week when a local store has a special rent five for a dollar deal.

So last week she rented a few and asked what Brendon and I would like to watch. We said we were indifferent (something my mom always gets frustrated with when I say..."No, pick something"), which was the wrong decision. Shanelle picked, and she chose the movie My Sassy Girl.

It is, without a doubt, the worst chick flick I have ever seen. I've been dragged to the movies as an awkward third wheel, been forced to watch crap with girls because they've "had a terrible day and I just want some company to watch this movie." But this one takes the cake.

You want to punch the female lead after about two scenes, and by midway through the film you want to plant dynamite in her mouth. The plot is so out of control with such an implausible ending it makes things that much worse. And the little things are off too. Case in point: there is a scene in New York City supposed to be taking place in January, but there is no snow, fall leaves on the ground, and trees are blooming spring flowers. That's basically all the seasons in one shot. Horrible.

So, lesson learned here: when the host mom, who admits to loving cheesy chick flicks, asks what you want to watch, pick anything not named My Sassy Girl. Ugh, I'm upset even thinking about it. Maybe I'll go burn every copy like the Pentagon burnt every copy of that recently published war book.