blah blah blog.

More pics at: http://www.flickr.com/photos/8151765@N03/sets/72157603836465565/
New ones start from "Freddy"


As per usual, the insanity continues.


First order of business: the show. Caravan of Amazement, or as we lovingly came to call it, Train Wreck of Amazement. Yes, it was one of those shows that you told your friends to go and see just so they could experience it in all its horrific, gruesome glory. Though I had fun leaping about on our grass stage, there were times when I whole-heartedly agreed with the cat calls of passing punk-teenagers: "Hey jackasses, your show sucks!" Why, yes, ear-plug bearing cretin, you're quite correct.


But in recognizing and embracing the utter mediocrity of our show, the cast bonded together in our 4ft high tent (thusly constructed so that it would not suffer the same fate of our first "caravan", which snapped in half due to the gale force Wellington wind). I would attempt to describe this nightly 1/2 hour of utterly abysmal theater, but I think the attached pictures speak for themselves.


In other acting news: I finally got to do that extra part for Avatar which was loads of fun. It's amazing how much effort they put into making you look good as a "background artist"; especially seeing as my greatest hope is to catch a glimpse of my left foot as the lead character gets pummeled on the floor in front of me. Two days of hanging out, wearing ridiculously red lipstick and being fed like a queen ain't bad though, I tell you what. The next acting gig I actually got to be the one being pummeled in an overwrought student film where I played the wife of a split-personality psycho. My part consisted of: lovingly embracing split-personality 1, lovingly embracing split personality 2, getting choked and dying. Move over Meryl Streep.


Beyond those gigs, I've also been practicing my rather impressive temping skills. No more door to door crap for me. Oh no, I'm half way respectable as a thoroughly efficient office-minion machine with filing, data entry and typing speed skills that could stun a yak. If there is anything positive about being a temp-bitch it's definitely getting to work in vastly different office environments. One day I was in the top floor, corner office of a life insurance executive in an office that had 5 of its very own espresso machines. The next job I was in the Ministry of Education, winding my way through the varying shades of second-hand cubicle walls and under the overgrown office plants of underpaid government workers. Ah, contrasts are fun.


But now it looks as if I'm leaving Wellington sooner than expected: after 3 months here and I take off tomorrow to meet up with my parents in the S. Island before picking up a couple more filming gigs. Yup, the parental unit decided to come for a visit and baited me with a ticket down to Queenstown to meet up with them a bit earlier than expected. As excited as I am to get on the road again, I know I'm leaving behind some incredible friends and some tasty opportunities. Last night was such an example of what I'll miss about Wellington: after the cast party I met up with my buddy Nathan to go to a gig in Thorndon, the most historic part of the city. After winding up circuitous roads we came to massive old town house with a couple artsy types smoking out front. "You know where to go, man?" They asked. Nathan nodded and led me through two huge entry rooms that seemed haunted by faded grandeur. And then suddenly the chords of good, kitschy folk music brought us into a pack of people gazing down at a sunken dance floor inhabited by an eclectic crew of musicians--complete with a piccolo player. Century old wall paper peeled from the wood-slated walls and port-holes peeked out into the lights of the harbor. Turns out this 1850s house used to entertain the sailors when they got into town. It has been handed down through the generations from one family member to the next and now boasts a rag tag crew of inhabitants who take care of the place and bring in home-grown New Zealand artists to entertain their buddies at small, word-of-mouth parties. As I gazed down from the gallery into the dance floor below I could just imagine the bawdy parties that went on 150 years ago.

And that's why I'll miss Wellington. And why, if one day I can think of nothing else to do, I'll be very tempted to come back.

But now's the time to leave and I'm looking forward to getting out in nature again before heading off to Bangkok on April 14. So wish me luck friends, and all the best!

Holy Schneikies

Well this certainly has been an interesting week...okay month...okay 6 months.

But we'll just stick to the last few days shall we?

So the whole "flinging myself at a job" thing wasn't exactly a drop in the bucket. But damn have I kept myself busy. Exhibit A-- cutouts of Carly Ann and I in various newspapers (the "hell" things are our fridge magnets). Though I am useless and jobless, I still managed to make it to press covered events...sounds very Paris Hiltonesque. Oh holy mother I need a job.

But it's not as if I'm lacking in things to do. Besides the opening parties, volunteering at the Fringe headquarters, rehearsing for our play (which is actually gonna be pretty freaking cool), overhauling the website so I actually look semi-legit (the results of which you'll see after the computer guy comes and works his magic on my ailing laptop), interviewing with various temp agencies/cafes/bars, going to callbacks, hanging out with random friends, running in the nearby park, writing bad poetry and the like...this particular week was interesting for three reasons:

1) The Kari and CarlyAnn $10 Budget for Food Challenge

2) The Sevens

3) My sales job

Okay, let's get started the Food Challenge.

So last Sunday CarlyAnn sat at her computer working through student loans and the like and by the end of her calculations laid $5 in coins on her desk. "This", she said, "Is all I've got for food for the week". Seeing as I'm a great roommate--and haven't really included tallying up a budget into my busy, unemployed lifestyle--responded, "Okay, then, me too." On our walk through the hills around our flat we discussed how it would be possible to spend $10 between the two of us on an entire week's worth of food. By the end of the walk, we were so excited about the challenge that we celebrated by blowing half the budget on ice cream cones.

We then wandered to the local grocery store, bought $4 worth of this lentil soup stock stuff and a lemon. Things were looking good. Let me tell ya, lentily soup stock can take all different forms: mix that sucker with cornmeal and you got yourself a patty. Stuff it between bread and it's like a tasty spread. Add some extra water and it's a very brothy soup. It certainly helped that we allowed for "found items"...such as the free bread that our roommate brings home from work every day and the meat in the freezer that I'm sure no one cared if we used.

I do have to admit, on day 2 I tried to sneak a $3 diet coke but the guilt so overwhelmed me that I broke down on day 3 and told Carly Ann of my transgression. I tried to argue that due to its lack of caloric density, it should not, in fact, count in the "food" budget. It was also bought for "medicinal purposes"--you see my stomach was slightly upset and I had to walk a full hour across town to get from the dvd printing studio to rehearsal and...and...yeah, even I was unimpressed. Fortunately CarlyAnn made a whopping $3 tip at her bar job (nontipping countries...pah) and I found $2 on the ground over the course of the week, so that cancelled things out. By day 4 Penelope, the other roommate, jumped on the band wagon with her $5 and we were just rolling in dough! And creative uses of random kitchen supplies. We're now so excited by the way things are going that we've decided to keep up the $10 a week challenge (well, now $15 with Pen on board) for as long as possible...and hoping to God that our various gigs will include many a dinner party.

Now on tooooo....The Sevens!! According to the website: "Staged at Wellington’s Westpac Stadium over two days and nights, the NZI Sevens involves 16 international teams competing for points that go towards the International Rugby Board (IRB) Sevens series...blahblahblah"

Okay, so essentially hot men from around the world duke it out in a stadium and the whole city dresses in ridiculous costumes to go watch. Yeah. Costumes. See exhibit B (those Borat costumes were actually banned this year for...well...the good of the community).

Everyone then stampedes out of the stadium and straight on to Courtenay Place aka downtown aka 5 minutes from my house and parties it up all weekend long. Exhibit C is the hat that I commandeered from one such reveler who insisted that I take it from him. I agreed. In a city this small, the excitement is everywhere and you can't turn a corner without seeing a whole herd of people dressed up in some insane costume. Yeah, so I like rugby.

And now for....the job in sales.

Okay, so I'm looking in the Job sections of the newspaper as I do most Wednesdays and there's this ad for a sales and marketing job: no experience necessary, travelers welcome. That right there told me--this job is gonna suck. When the employer lacks any kind of standards for your employment, that is a bad sign. But desperation breeds compromise and off I went for an interview.

I walked up the stairs of a shady looking auto-technical supplies warehouse to be met with booming pop music emenating from the second floor. The cool looking, open plan office was teeming with attractive 20-somethings busily filling out paperwork, chatting and disappearing into important looking rooms. I immediately looked around for the paddle and wondered when the hazing would begin.

Instead I filled out a very short survey that essentially asked if I had a pulse and what my interests were. 5 minutes later a very toothy and attractive James #1 led me into his office. Turns out the company is run by three Jameses who all have an affinity for pastel colored shirts and hair gel. After an interview that was essentially a competition to see who could hold eye contact the longest, he invited me to go on an observation the next day with a girl that I would "really like. She's really bubbly". Bubbly. That meant he thought I was bubbly. I hate it when people call me bubbly. Even if it is true.

The only information I was given was to "dress professionally and wear comfortable shoes" as we were going to meet with "clients". That right there made me wary, but seeing as they offered free lunch, I was game. A dinner roll stuffed with ham later I was dumped in old-people-ville-suburbia to sell a new energy company to bored retirees. Yes, my friends, I spent the afternoon as a freaking DOOR-TO-DOOR-SALESMAN
...and I kinda liked it.

House #3 included a lady that had actually just retired that day from four decades as a nurse, so as we helped her fill out paperwork she buzzed about ensuring the cake and bbq stuff was all set for her party. House #20 had a newborn baby that I rather awkwardly attempted to entertain while the "bubbly" Kelly clinched in the deal and House #32's 12-week-old border collie and I definitely will be keeping in touch. It was actually fun getting to step into these people's lives for the afternoon--especially since I just got to chat with them while Kelly took care of the business side of things. By the end of it I was thinking: Hey, I could actually see myself being okay at this...that is if I was able to make it to more than two houses per afternoon. I tend to ramble on a bit.

...but then, with a job, how could I maintain my flashy unemployed lifestyle? Yup, despite my peaked interest, the killer hours (12:30-9pm) would completely conflict with my Fringe show obligations, and that just wouldn't be cool of me. But I gotta say, the people element of sales really does capture me. You never know, maybe I'll be bringing a revolutionary new vacuum to a door near you.

Yet despite all these stops and starts...I don't feel as if I'm in the wrong place. In fact, all of this is somehow clarifying. When I came to NZ, all I knew was I had to get here. I didn't really know what I wanted out of life and didn't have much in the way of future goals. But all these crazy jobs, friendships and adventures later, I feel like I finally have some clarity. I'm getting a good grasp of who I am, what I want and it's becoming clear that I really can get there. Even if it does end up I have to sell a few vaccuums along the way.

Oh and there are a few more pics up if you feel the need to take a gander: http://www.flickr.com/photos/8151765@N03/sets/72157603836465565/ They're not nearly as exciting as the south island stuff, but there's some cute shots of CarlyAnn.

Mission Impossible.

Job Update: even when flung at aforementioned bar, they said nisch nisch. Ouch. Apparently other people had had the same idea and gotten employed there first. I hate them.

On the up side I had an interview with a sales and marketing firm today that said: hey, you're friendly, we're thinking you can sell people crap. Not sure exactly what that all entails, but tomorrow I'll be shadowing someone to see if I like the work.

Here's to hoping I won't be one of those obnoxious people on street corners shoving coupons for 1/2 price curry lunch specials in everyone's face.



My potential future:


Hurrah for a college education.

Flavor of the Month

I’m such a dirty cad. Seriously, looking at the last few posts it was all this mushy, lovey dovey stuff about how Wellington is the coolest place ever—which, yes, it’s awesome, but I’m now…kinda…ready to move on. And it’s not Welly, it’s me. I just hope we can stay friends after this post.

Despite the cool things that are happening, I’m starting to get that familiar itchy feet feeling that tells me to pack it up and keep moving. Do you get it too? It begins gradually; I’ll go through my day and just feel discontent and unsettled. A couple more days will pass and it’s like nothing feels quite right, and then suddenly I realize: the itchy feet syndrome’s back. And the only remedy is to change something—my environs, what I'm doing, whatever, but until I do something nothing feels right. Hence the impending breakup of an otherwise healthy, flourishing relationship with Wellington. Insert sappy music.

Yet at the moment I can’t just throw my stuff in my bag and head off; I now have certain obligations here that I can't give up 1) because people are depending on me and I’d be a total @$$hole if I dropped the ball on them and 2) because Wellington is gonna be a pretty incredible place in the next month (to continue an already overextended metaphor: I’m now using Wellington).

So how to remedy the discontent in the meantime? By planning the next episode of my adventures and work my butt off to fund them! Yup, I’m giving into the man, forgoing the whole “work as it comes” motif and throwing myself at whatever bar will take me for the next month. In the last four weeks I’ve applied for about twenty to thirty really cool jobs, but, surprisingly enough, they want dependable people that are going to be around for a while. So with humility and only the slightest traces of desperation I’m forgoing the attempts at cool gigs like working at a gym, organic cafe or governmental agency and instead focusing on getting Mac’s Brew Bar to hire me: a place where there’s more travelers working than Kiwis and things like “overtime” and “benefits” are all pish-posh and humdrum. That’ll get me right through the month to when my parents come out and whisk Carly Ann and me off to explore the North Island—hurrah! Then they’ll take off, Carly Ann will return to Wellington and I’m thinking I’ll cruise about the Northland and Bay of Islands doing the Joe-average backpacker thing: surfing, hanging out in beach towns, perhaps picking up a filming gig if I can, fruit picking if must and then make my way down, once again, to the South Island for further exploration with a good buddy of mine.

And after that: Asia. I’m dying to go, particularly to Malaysia, Thailand, Vietnam and Laos. I’ll have a solid month and a half before needing to make my way state side, which I know isn’t a whole lot of time but enough to take a Thai kickboxing course, meet up with some NZ travelers who’re going there ahead of me, explore gorgeous places and fully appreciate the ridiculous exchange rate. Soooo….if you have any suggestions on places I really must see while there, lemme know.

Itchy feet thusly abated, I’ll do my best to live in the present moment and enjoy my last few weeks here in Wellington—and be sure to fill you in on the more worthwhile and blog-appropriate details.

Vagabond Dribble

I’m not sure I’m gonna be able to be a real person after all this. Seriously, the whole running around and doing whatever odd jobs pop up thing is a real good gig—of course it helps that I’m in a kick-ass place with kick-ass people. Seems everybody around is not only cool and interesting, they’re either out there supporting the arts or creating them. And it doesn’t come off as self-serving, as it often can in LA, but more as a big party where everybody gets to play. You wander the streets and there’s people littering the sidewalks at cafes, grooving to random free concerts, doing crazy flips in the skateboard park or packing out local theaters. This city’s passion and vitality are infectious. And I'm diggin it.

So the last few weeks have been totally random and fun—I’m all signed up with a couple temp agencies so everyday I keep my phone handy just in case I get called in to answer phones, file paperwork…or sell train tickets for The Police concert that happened last week. That was fun. I collected my necessaries at the Wellington train station and then got sent out to a very out of the way station with another dude. We wiled away the afternoon in our nifty MetLink jackets and approached passersby to see if they wanted to purchase return tickets. We’d then reach into our little fanny packs and pull out a very unofficial looking stub, punch a couple holes in the sucker and then take their money. Yeah. People trusted that.

So that was Friday. Saturday was filled up with auditions for some little projects—nothing that pays heaps, but, eh, that’s what train station gigs are for. Then Sunday Carly Ann and I spent the whole day wandering the city, visiting the Farmer’s Market, dancing at a reggae concert, eating sushi and finishing off the day with white wine in the park as we watched the sunset. No, we are not dating. Yesterday was museum day, complete with a string quartet accompanying a dude that plays whalebone instruments that was freaking amazing. Then after working a couple of hours at the Fringe Festival headquarters we headed home to cook up a curried veggie feast and yuck it up with our flat mates and our buddy Jim.

This morning was fittings for my costume as an extra for this futuristic, action movie. It’s not for a few weeks, but they called me in today to get all suited up. Can I just say that “acting” is the best gig ever? I’m getting paid to play dress up. My 4-year-old self thinks I’m awesome. In fact, the outfit I get to wear is this designer dress that is without a doubt the most expensive thing I’ve ever put on—plus it’s really cute. And the hot little black suede wedges might just accidentally walk off set with me. Oops. I put “acting” in quotes because, from what I can tell, my part is to amble along a street behind the real actors. Amble. I can do that. I’ll let ya know how it goes.

So that’s my life! Happy times, very happy times. And with some incredibly awesome people coming to visit me over the next couple months, I’m pretty much walking on Cloud 9. Love y’all and thanks for the updates!!! It’s so great to hear what each of you are doing :-) Rock, rock on.

PS I put up my first attempt at a website—you’ll find it at chaibait.com. I know it’s not real great or anything, so if you have any opinions on how I can make it better content/look-wise just lemme know! Thanks dudes.

Urban Immersion

Alright, holiday break’s over and we’re back in business. I certainly hope your 2008 is going splendidly. From what I hear there’s some sort of primary something-or-other going on over there, yeah? Maybe? I dunno, I thought I heard something like that. Ya’ll have fun doing your patriotic duty.

As for me, I am still being a bum. And a very happy bum at that. I actually just found out about an hour ago that I made it into a Wellington Fringe Festival show! Quick note for non-theater nerds: fringe festivals happen at various parts of the year all over the world and are essentially a month long celebration of theater. You see crazy costumed people wandering the streets handing out fliers for the dozens, even hundreds of shows going on. They range from really good and innovative to painfully bad, so when you wander into a show space, you’re kinda rolling the dice.

Aside, er, aside: I’m excited. I came to Wellington with the purpose of auditioning for Fringe shows but was finding this to be quite a bit tougher than expected. Turns out there aren’t just audition notices wallpapering every street corner. Instead I’ve spent the last few weeks rooting around the city, theaters and various Internet sites to no avail. That is until tonight. So I’m at the internet café at about 6:50 this evening printing out some resumes to hand out to some local pubs when I turn around—and there it is. The audition sign:

Auditions! Being held 10 January from 5:30-7:30. Call blah blah blah for audition materials and more information. Address: blah blah

I’d left my phone back at home and I wasn’t exactly packing my headshot and resume with me, but I thought, eh, I got forty minutes, we’ll go see if they need an American chick. So off I went across town, peeled in, read over the script, gave my reading and I have a part! Granted, they were getting a bit desperate for actors (only 5 had showed up for the 2 parts they were casting) and my American accent was the most believable for the role (go figure), but I’m still gonna be excited and I hope you will be with me. It actually is a really cool show: commedia d’ell arte influences and all that. I play Jack and have a really sweet costume. I’ll fill you in on all that in the coming weeks.

And what have I been doing with myself other than that?

Well, besides being fantastically ill Monday (I’ll save you those details, and no, I was not hung over thank you) I have spent the last couple days wandering into town to edit at the gorgeous, happening Wellington library. I’m working on my first officially paid free-lance film gig, hurrah! The week around New Year I got to hang out with a bunch of “skiffies”, crazy sailors who specialize in racing the 12ft skiff class. These are quick and dangerous little boats that capsize as much as …insert your favorite political joke here. Ex: Bill gives Hillary Clinton supportive nods. In fact, why don’t you post it in the comments, I’d love to hear ‘em…Each day the photographer, Garrick, would pick me up at 9 and we’d spend the whole day in the chase boats filming away. Though most of my shots are pretty shaky, I had a blast and am having fun putting together a rockin little dvd for the boys. I’ll put up a promo within the next week. Good times.

From what I’ve heard at home people are having some really good stuff happen, from weddings to jobs to travels, so boring or no pop me an update if you feel like it! Miss you all :)

Kiwi Christmas.

Ever more pics at http://www.flickr.com/photos/8151765@N03/?saved=1

Well there’s that then, my first Christmas away from home’s over and done with. And you know what? I had a blast. I’m currently wading into the job hunt to fund my next adventures as well as rooting around for auditions and free lance film jobs, so I’ll let you know what comes of that.

That being said, here’s a rough outline of how the Kiwi Christmas went down:

1. Carly Ann and I woke up early (of course, it was Christmas after all) and laid on our blow up mattress talking about what we’d be doing if we were celebrating at home.
2. I made some kick ass blueberry muffins while Carly Ann started working her magic on her traditional Puerto Rican food.
3. There are these popper things that everyone gets here that make a loud, well, pop, when you pull them open and inside there’s a really bad joke and a paper crown. You see people all over the city wandering around in these silly hats the whole week leading up to Christmas. An example of said bad joke: “What do you get when you cross a fish and two elephants? Swimming Trunks”. Yup, I told ya. Bad.
4. In an apparent move to embrace our changing interests, Santa put Mac’s Gold Malt Lager in each of our stockings. I admire his ability to adapt.
5. My amazing family sent along a box with all sorts of happy things to open on Christmas morning. Thanks guys!!!!
6. Then there was lots of movie watching, cooking, sitting around, greeting our French buddy Edward, going out to peek in on other people’s Christmases. The Kiwis were a bit down because they usually have sunny Christmas BBQs on the beach, but unfortunately it was dumping rain so instead we saw them carting tin foil covered plates between houses.
7. After our early dinner the weather decided to clear a bit so we went to walk around the bay and up onto the lookout point above the city. Along the way we came upon an epic rope swing, and I do mean epic. I’ve seen many a rope swing in my day, but I think this may be the best one I’ve ever been on. Anything that mixes a great ride with a very real fear for your life is definitely a good time…well that is until Carly Ann gave it a go and ended up doing a butt slide down the steep, rocky embankment. We’re worried she may be taken to a women’s clinic with all of her deep purple bruises.
8. As we carted Carly Ann back home to survey the damage, we came across a slightly scruffy looking 20-something-guy eating a sandwich in the park. If that doesn’t scream lonely backpacker I don’t know what does. Within a couple minutes he had joined the crew and was heading back with us for more card games and movie watching. It was straight up Dickens.

So that’s the short and long of it. I hope all your holidays are merry and good and that your New Year is as thrilling as an epic rope swing…unless of course your name is Carly Ann.

PS If you are female, see Enchanted. I saw it with the girls last night and totally loved it. If you’re male, I hope whatever woman you’re with has enough sense to leave you at home while she goes to see it. For both your sakes.