High Road; Low Road.

I fell off the face of the earth in San Francisco and landed here in Auckland.  Not that things needed to be formal, but I left without saying any goodbyes.  I always intended on seeing friends, eating cake, and sitting in Dolores Park, contemplating the hyper-exaggerated yet profound impact of the Coriolis Effect.  In New Zealand, there is a long list of confusing and illogical things that take place on the left, backwards, upside down, inside out, also including birds that fly around indoors, and bus drivers that make change when you hand them $10 for a $4.10 ride.

Life happens fast. I was in so many different cities in several different states right up until the moment I walked on the plane at SFO.  No, not "walked." Walking implies a conscious effort to move my body. Too tired to fight the laws of nature, I was definitely brought here by a conspiracy between El Nino and La Nina. 
I even made invitations, another in my magical New Zealand series [I removed all the pertinent party information in order to be World Wide Web appropriate]:

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Tim was reading about the history of the Princes Wharf and I, balancing on a fine line in a grey area, stood on the steps of the Hilton. Somewhere between exhaustion and sadness, sleepy and lazy, contemplation and disinterest, laughter and crying, quiet and "You aren't listening to me. Did you hear what I said?", content and mad, arms waving and yelling, I sat down, put my hands on my knees and my face in my hands.  A few feet away, there was a man leaning against a pillar unwrapping a chocolate bar, attracting the attention of some obnoxious seagulls.  I stared, impolitely.

I spent almost ten months attempting the impossible, thinking that I could control the Earth's rotation. I planned to use my extraordinary powers to fortify a dangerously unstable stack of cards, weakened with every trip around the axis. Slow the spin. Endlessly frustrated and powerless ... and plainly human. If it wasn't for Meghan I would not be here, writing, lying on the floor, listening to the rain and crickets echo in the harbor.  Last summer, she picked up her computer and started looking at tickets for me to go to New Zealand.  Her one search turned into a grand idea for an around the world trip. "Why? Why not!" she responded, as if I could do absolutely anything I wanted. As if.

I want to see unicorns in New Zealand. I want to see elves, gnomes, yetis, and the loch ness monster.  I would like to think that maybe I am not so powerless. Besides, I am fairly certain there aren't many other people in this world who gain enormous fulfillment from the painstakingly slow process of searching for legendary creatures and other ridiculously awesome things.

Tim, again, coffee obsession. Costa Rica + Colombia. Brewed.

Caffetteria All Press, Auckland.

It's the future! Britomart Transport Centre. Auckland.

Playing a video game waiting for the train. 

J: '"Hey Tim, what are you doing?"

T: "Taking over the world." 

Britomart, Auckland. 

 Circus style awning. Freeman's Bay, Auckland. 

 The view out our window, looking down.  Auckland

 Victoria Park Market, Auckland. 

Victoria Park Market, Auckland.

Upstairs, there is an architect who has taken great lengths to match 

the color scheme of the office space with that of the street space. Nerd. 

Freeman's Bay, Auckland. 

Gentlemen's Corner.  Victoria Park Market. Auckland.

 Alworth jersey. For Tim. Victoria Park Market. Auckland.