May the best driver win

I think I have alone-a-phobia at the moment. There is probably an actual phobia of being alone, but for now alone-a-phobia seems to fit the bill. Since flatting I have rarely been ‘alone’ I can count the amount of times I have stayed home alone on one hand over the past three years and probably the total amount of nights alone in my life would not exceed 10. So, understandably I find it hard to be alone-alone. 

Creaking lock wood house. Random doors shutting and opening. Cat fights on the street. The silence. Darkness. Coldness. And of course the amount of space to fill. Oh and the lights that I’m sure I turned off, that are now on.

The good thing is though it means I get to make time for friends. Crash guy came down again tonight. We saw that new movie ‘the heat’, it is a must see for anyone who likes a good funny movie with great actors. For the first time there was popcorn left.

Of course, in true form, the night progressed and we (well he) decided we should go to Time Zone (a game arcade). Being a lover of all things speed we played the car racing game.

He won the first time. I then proceeded to kick his ass and take home two wins. He didn’t have a hope in hell. As irony has a habit of following me it was only fitting that the guy I met after he crashed into me in real life, would loose miserably to me in a virtual car game. 

Tomorrow I will hopefully see my Indian friend. He is always good to get my head back into reality. 

It’s strange. So far, I have accomplished most of what I set out to do this year. Without even realizing it. Right now, while my flatmate is being shaken up in Wellington, literally, I am finally feeling settled. 

Please Hamilton don’t join in on this earth dancing game. 




The big smoke: Final departure

The final day is here. It has arrived. In light of this I think I must recap the adventures of me and zip. 

Auckland traffic is ok when traveling from the West but for some reason people coming from the South just can’t drive. Ironically it was on the West where poor Zip met his match. Aucklanders are so friendly and everyone wants to make you feel welcome. Apparently I do not look or seem 19 – I have not yet decided if that is a good thing. The turn off the Tauranga from the motorway is bad – I get lost at that turn off more than I do anywhere else in Auckland. Driving around the city is not as hard as I once assumed. Ponsonby is a really adorable place in Auckland in which I have fallen in love with. K road is exactly how people describe it at night. I feel safer here than I do in Tauranga. Hamilton is actually tiny. Journalists are crazy and fun people, I now no longer feel like I have gone mad or am going to fail at life. There are a lot of rather good looking guys in Auckland… not that I paid that much attention. My horse is an amazing animal and is not out to kill me even with three weeks off. My car uses very little petrol. The trip from Auckland to Raetihi requires four coffees. When someone hits the back of your car expect whiplash and DON’T open your boot – it wont close again. Journalists are friends with everyone. People who are bad drivers are nice people. I don’t understand how I have no money. I don’t like parking wardens but I like them more here than in Hamilton. Much more. The police are nice people on the phone… sometimes. ‘The Edge’ will save your sanity in bad traffic. Getting bylines is a good indication you haven’t completely screwed it all up. I would be ok with living here. I don’t want to be ok with that. Protesters are very motivated… though one could assume not always for the reasons they’re protesting. Photographers are opinionated people. Don’t piss off a journo – we’re incredible stalkers. I am good at talking about just about anything. Stairs are good for loosing weight. Young delinquents are hard not to pull the fingers at. Heals wear out REALLY fast.

All journalists I have met so far are VERY VERY fast walkers. 

I now know how people feel when they can not keep up with me.

The plus is loosing the several kg’s I accumulated while not horse riding.

And last but not least, I now like beer more than wine.

The adventures of zip and accidental friends

I am going to be brave and write this hoping, yet knowing full well it is possible, that the person I met today doesn’t read it. Otherwise I will probably take out #1 spot for most stalkerish person ever. None the less, due to the name of my blog I feel it would be a crime not to share my story. 

Today, I was merrily driving little zip home. It was a busy night on the motorway and the patter of rain washed some of the grit off my windshield. I moved lanes because I am one of the impatient people who can’t just wait in the slow lane. I’d been in that lane for a little while when the traffic stopped. When I say stopped I mean like stopped dead. I too slammed on my breaks and zip came to an abrupt standstill. Ah, good, I thought, I stopped in time. I looked up, as I do every time I stop and looked in my review mirror. There was the car I had noticed earlier. For no particular reason it had just stuck in my mind… I get board on the motorway and the car was not unlike mine. 

He was approaching me quickly. Uhoh, I thought. Smack. He stopped… only due to the fact little zip was in his way. Little zip then kissed the ass of the car in front. It was a zip sandwich. 

This guy gets out, I’d assume in his mid 20’s. He seemed very shocked and somewhat overly concerned for my safety. It was nice. Aucklanders seem to be those sorts of people. I followed him, we pulled over and he was super helpful and gave me his details. I thought at the time, as one does in a situation like that, he’s good looking, why do I always seem to have crashes with good looking people? It made me laugh and I didn’t say much as I was quite concerned I would indeed burst out into a fit of giggles as I normally do in any situation that involved danger. It’s a coping mechanism I think. 

Got home, sorted out insurance, zip does not seem too worse for wear other than a somewhat lopsided bumper and an improvement on the wheel alignment. 

I felt sorry for the poor guy who’d hit me. People seem to not be able to understand why I was not overly angry, or really actually angry at all about the whole thing. I do remember how it felt to be the person in the backside of someone else’s car, I also remember them being not very happy, though their car was fine, and me thinking well… what exactly do you want me to do about it right this very second!? So I am more than happy to cut people some slack, especially when they’re nice people. 

Now seeing as my boss at the SST has time and time again told me journalism is just as much about the investigating as it is the writing. So, to Facebook I went. He wasn’t hard to find. Looked a little different in a profile pic but hey, that’s alright. I found out he actually works for the same company as me. Yes, of all the people in Auckland to crash into me it had to be someone who I could probably meet again. 

I had to chuckle again at the irony. 

I now feel a lot like a stalker. 

Never the less, he seems like a nice guy and I need friends here as currently I have zilch and if I am moving here in the future I’d quite like to have some contacts rather than ‘welcome to Auckland, now go be a loner’. He sent me a text making sure I was ok and that insurance was sorted out, I said yup and sent a nice reply back. He then asked if he could buy me coffee to make up for it. I said why not.

This is my issue. I have a boyfriend right, but I get along well with the opposite sex. That is just the way I am and no, I don’t flirt. Especially not in the situation of rain + you just hit my precious new car + I’m not single and I think quite a few years younger than you. 

However, I do want to go to coffee and I would like to get to know more people. The problem… is this something people do or is it something that indicates I am single and in which case how do I mention without being really bitchy sounding when his intentions could be completely innocent, that I’m not single. 

This is problematic. 

Also part of the reason I Facebook stalked to see if he was taken. He’s not. Increase urgency of the issue at hand. 

Oh little zip.

You’ll have a new bumper soon. 

The old man and the daisies.

Driving past a residential area the other day I was looking out the window. Not really looking I suppose, more staring thinking about something like what I want to eat or what movie I’ve missed. Either way, my mind was not with me until I saw him. 

His garden was perfect. His lawns (to me) appeared perfect. But not to him. Perhaps in his late 80’s there he was- garden sheers in hand. These were not small garden sheers, the would have been half the size of him! Good thing though, because it meant he didn’t have to bend over, instead he could avoid the possibility of toppling head over heals into the law.

Standing, or rather walking slowly he was ‘pruning’ his lawn. Cutting each daisy off the law with the garden sheers. EVERY SINGLE ONE.

At this point me and my boyfriend looked at one another with a ‘did we really just encounter that!’ look on our faces.

We did.

I will never complain about being board again, not that I ever do. Instead I will appreciate a busy life because at least I do not have time to care about the length of those pesky daisies towering high above the grass.

Oh how wonderful a drive can be 

Out of my way!

Slow drivers. Now I know that I have mentioned this several times. But it’s something that I just can’t help but drive home. Excuse the rather badly used pun. They come in all forms. All colours. All ages. They pick me. I swear, they target me! 

It’s 8.25. Dentist appointment 8.30. Sleep through alarm. Get up 8.00. Running late. 5 minutes to get across town. Rush hour traffic just beginning. It’s been raining, road slippery. Use this to my advantage around corners. First slow driver. Small white van like car. 60km area- travels 55km/hour. Female driver, in her 30’s (I think). Breathe. Second slow driver. Towing large black trailer with red ute. Takes corner at 15km/hour. Can understand caution. Make it past.

Third slow driver. 60km area. Travels 59km/hour. WHY?! 

Make it to dentist at 8.39. Late. 

Now I understand caution. I think it’s sensible. However, I also think that there should be a special ‘Sacha is running late, LET HER THROUGH’ signal. I think this would solve a lot of problems. Seeing as 6 times out of 10 I am running late. Due to my own need to sleep or eat or like half presentable after rubbing the remaining sleep out of my eyes. 

I jump out of bed. I never just wake up and meander out of bed. It’s a I AM NOW AWAKE AND MUST CONQUER THE WORLD! Sort of a wake up. Due to this shock to my system I don’t like to drive slowly. 

I’m not a slow person, I do everything at speed. I think it makes me productive most of the time. Rather impatient the rest of the time. 

So the point of this post is to express my distaste for the fact there are restrictions around the space and speed I can travel at. 

Seriously? Who wrote these perfectly sense making, safe keeping rules?


The day I threw the attitude away.

Today I should have slept in. It just sort of has that chaotic- you’re going to throw your hands in frustration by the end of it- sort of feel to it. Firstly, I missed a ride with my friend because I wanted to eat. I decided it was an important part of my daily function. Then, I followed the ‘must travel under the speed limit incase by some strange matter of probability a large dinosaur leaps out in front of me’. Then once I got past them in a ‘move some’s dying!’ sort of fashion I met the Hyundai. I realized to day, that the logo is just a slanted Honda logo! It is astounding! It was small and white with blue sign writing. It too, decided the speed limit was simply more of a guide. However he did manage to reach it once or twice. BUT he stopped. He was small, he could have fit. But he stopped. He tried to wait for the car that was stopped to turn. He didn’t go past it! I could have gone past it! I breathed a deep sign of frustration at the world. Then my favorite song came on and I was happy. A happy happy person. Transformed into thinking that this day actually had potential. Perhaps it does. I then found the perfect park… FREE! I then arrived at class, earlier than most people apparently bothered to be here. So eating my breakfast after all- it was a good choice to make.
And with that, along with my tired, sad and sorry ass mixed in with hay fever and my stupid thyroid deciding to go a little awol I’m feeling in a ‘I must laugh or else I will end up in a blithering mess of tears.’

Please function brain.


Sober driving and IV drips

Finally clean! It’s not often that I don’t shower every day, wash my face twice and day and brush my teeth along with that so you know somethings not quite right when I don’t. The problem with me is when I get sick I faint whenever I shower or bath- providing a severe drowning risk and seeing as I value my life more than my cleanliness, these last 48 hours have meant feeling less than clean. After my bath this morning I am feeling rather refreshed and some what better than I did yesterday (though I don’t think the morphine has quite worn off).

Being the wonderful girlfriend I am, I offered to sober drive my boyfriend to his friends 21st, spend the night then with people who I don’t really and never have seen eye to eye with and watch everyone else act similar to monkeys high on some interesting substance stronger than bananas. The situation wasn’t exactly what I would call relaxing, even with alcohol pumping through my veins so being sober… well it just made the whole situation feel more like something I should be watching, not living. So any way, after fighting off a bug for the last few weeks I thought being sober was the best option anyway and I was trying very hard to act like I was genuinely enjoying watching everyone else slowly become less apprehensive and join in in the game of chinese whispers as well as enjoy the over-the-top bullpooy that seems to flow like a river for some people mouths.

After 4 hours of the same thing I was feeling more drunk than sober- seeing as I was drinking alcohol free ginger beer the feeling was a tad disconcerting. Never the less I insisted I would be fine after a glass or two of water and I did not want to ruin my boyfriends evening with the ‘friends’. I quickly realized ok I was not. The night continued with my driving home at 30km under the speed limit, crawling into bed, throwing anything I had eaten in the last 24 hours back up, curling up into a very small ball and refusing to be taken to the hospital- expecting to be fine by the morning.

Normally when you’re the sober driver, you’re meant to wake up feeling 10 times better than the people you drove home so I had to laugh a little at the serious irony of it all. Feeling worse than I had the night before and unable to move, open my eyes or string a sentence together I was bundled off to the hospital, and after and IV drip a bundle of drugs and morphine I was feeling much happier.

Bringing me now to today, back in my home town with my mummy looking after me and feeling much more with the sunny weather than under it. My conclusion from the evening is simply it is not my destiny to be a sober driver, or to entertain the likes of people I do not particularly enjoy the company of. And of course that I wish I was a doctor so I could carry one of those IV bags around- they are wonderful, pure bliss I say.

Oh the joy of life at times.