Let me introduce you to my friends

Before the beautiful pictures, I would like to dampen your raging resentment of what a lovely time I am having by revealing I have worked 30 hours over the weekend while having the flu and have been forced to take today off sick because I was coughing so much I couldn't speak or eat breakfast. And you know how I feel about speaking. And eating breakfast.

Anyway I spent the entire morning in bed, ate an entire pack of Strepsils (which must be the most overpriced commodity in the universe. But damn it they're good) and now feel much perkier. Hurrah! Back to the wards tomorrow, much less miserable I hope.

I would also like to praise Palmy for generally having the kindest attitude towards sickness I have  yet encountered as a junior doctor.

In the UK:

Me: "Hello. I am really sorry. I have a fever of 38.2, and I can't stand up without feeling faint. I really can't come into work today. I tried calling you last night when I left work but you had already left work (of course you had. Of course you fricking had, hadn't you?) so I am calling this morning. I've informed my consultant and the other junior doctors, I - "

Human resources: "Right. Sick, are we? Right. This isn't my problem. Find someone else to take your place for you or come in to work."

Me: "How will I find someone else to come in for me?? Do I just phone all my friends? They will all be at work!"

Them: "As I say, this isn't my problem."

Me: "...then why do you exist? Excuse me, I need to leave the phone to vomit."

Them: "I don't care. *hangs up on me.*"

Me: "*cries*"

In New Zealand:

Me: "I'm so sorry. I am really sick today and can't come to work."

Human resources: "Oh dear! Poor you. I hope you feel better soon. We will sort out some cover for you. See you tomorrow I hope! :-)"*

*NB the smiley face was indeed included in an email follow up to this conversation. I feel loved.

*****

Those who know me on facebook (everyone, probably. Though I am at the moment trying to cull the facebook friends, an activity marginally more depressing than reading your own old diary entries) have already seen these photos, but I wanted a record of them in my own blog, for posterity. And there's more room here for the story, about my new friends from NZ. Stories are good. That is true.

Last Tuesday, we went to the beach for a slap-up beach fire/barbeque.

Where does the word BBQ come from? Does anyone know?

I love this picture, because Helen looks like a smith or some master-worker, plying the fire. Helen is also one of those very efficient people who can do everything and therefore this picture sums up my general admiration for her. She thought up the BBQ idea and made the fire, and is also trying to persuade me to take art classes, cookery classes, step classes, aerobics classes, participate in a 3km sea swim, go skiing every weekend, do wine tasting, Pilates, and zumba. 

The only thing I have done so far is say, "er...wow...er....great...wow...yeah, let me think about that, mmm...." and zumba, which we jogged to, did 30 minutes of, jogged around the block in the break, then did an hour, then jogged back home from, which nearly destroyed me. Helen was perky throughout. So that is Helen. She is moving away soon to Wellington, and we will all miss her exuberant energy, though she promises we will see her again on the slopes next season (this is a guarantee: her partner is a former ski instructor who never misses an opportunity to shame everyone else with his spectacular technique and near death traverses.)

Zumba is hilarious, by the way. Absolute comedy. At least it is the way I do it. 

From how near death I came when I finally jogged home, I estimate that every minute of zumba burns approximately 5000 calories. 

I was spent. 

I lost the head off my tripod so I had to steady my camera in the sand, which was a massive error I'd made several times before and each time forgot all about until I was in the middle of making it again. Kind of like childbirth, I imagine. Anyway, it was an absolutely clear and beautiful night, and I was a bit devastated by my ISO limit of 6400, something I'd never truly appreciated until now. I feel that I am finally getting to know my camera properly by exploring its limits. And now I want a bigger and better one.

Jokes, I love my camera with all my heart and passion. But I do need a waterproof one to take surfing with me. It's nearly surf season! I'm excited!

Yeah I fricking love my camera, bitches.

Look at the flame on that stick!

Thank you, Canon DSLR 1100D. Thank you for making my life so fulfilled.

I also really like this picture, though it is slightly burry in the foreground (no tripod!) but the sense of activity in the background and calm in the foreground is all very good. And I like the lighting. The people are (closest to furthest) Tina, who is mad. She flew from the UK on Wednesday, started work on Thursday, as the med reg, and then went skiing with us on Friday, stayed out till 3am on Saturday, went skiing again on Sunday, and then back to work as the med reg on Monday. That is the definition of insanity, if you would care to look it up in the DSM-IV.

The next person is Julia, whom you've already met in a previous blog entry. Julia who can open her car bonnet with precision and aplomb. Julia who is afraid of getting murdered.

Julia: "Connie, I need to pee."

Me: "Ok."

Julia: "Will you come with me? I need to go into the dunes and I think I might be murdered."

Me: "Ok. I'll....I'll just stand here and face away from you. Please don't pee downhill towards me."

Julia: "I'll try not to but I don't want to go too far away in case I get murdered."

Later.

Julia: "I feel like we've bonded."

Me: "I feel honoured you chose me to be your pee guardian."

Julia: "Yes, well, Luke thinks this murdering thing is silly. But it's not silly! Murder is serious."

Luke: "I am going for a pee now and I am going alone."

Luke is the last person on the log. He plays the ukelele and likes Beirut, and he likes Doctor Who, and also we watched War Games together (it's a long story. No one else was around. We were lonely. WHO CAN BLAME US) and he also likes Joanna Newsom and Neutral Milk Hotel and Labyrinth and the Princess Bride, so we were going to be new best friends BUT he hates Legally Blonde, which means our friendship has been spoilt forever.

Still, here is a picture of Luke playing the ukelele.

Can you guess what song he is singing?

It's

ella ella ella

um-ber-ella

Later we had a go at singing Smells like Teen Spirit, which was I think almost X-factor worthy. Kurt Cobain, grave, etc.

Helen (resourceful! Helen) had brought along an iron skillet and we cooked various items on the fire using it. 

Here is another picture I like a lot. Helen and Tim are managing the fire once more. Tim Little is from Cambridge, and it turns out he is the older brother of Alistair. Alistair Little! From downstairs in my first year at Oxford! Tiny little Alistair Little! We only realised when Tim recognised Tim (my Tim)'s Magdalen choir shirt. 

He is much more hilarious than Alistair Little. And has greater iphone cooking skills. See below.

The application of technology to deliciousness.

On the log, from left to right are:

Helen (efficient!Helen)

Simon (beardy!Simon)

Jenny (dancingonthetable!Jenny)

Jana (youwillmeethimlater!Jana)

Mysterious head

Tom (ofTomTomfame! Tom)

You will come to meet all of them. Not now. Later.

Helen had made these incredible orange cake things, cake mixture in the middle of a hollowed out orange, wrapped in foil and set to bake in the fire. They were very delicious, but shamefully I could only manage one mouthful due to the large quantity of animal I had eaten earlier. Shame. 

(The vegetarian thing isn't going very well in New Zealand. Partly because their vegetarian fare is mostly shameful. Partly because I have only cooked 2 meals in my own house since coming here. More on that later.)

*****

So I've been living a bit too packedly - weekend, snowboarding, Monday (late home from work - grand round), Tuesday barbecue, Wednesday swim and pub quiz (we weren't last!), Thursday zumba, Friday date night (where Tim and I ate an insane amount of food, topped off with a chocolate cake the size of my head), Saturday and Sunday work work work, and now sick Monday. Sick, sick Monday. :-( I need some soup and tenderness, and perhaps not to go anywhere for a little while. And to cook in my own home. I miss it. Too much eating out, and I miss having some lentils at home. Maybe that is what I will do tonight. Tim and I are having a night in, and we are going to watch the last Doctor Who, and then I will get better. 

And strepsils for dessert.

Much love to all in the UK.

xxx Connie

This

is the most fun ever.

Even with Tim's thumb in view.

The end.

Soft boiled eggs and tea

Dear folks,

Settling into this New Zealand living business, though now getting to miss English foods - English juice and tea and hot chocolate and cheesecake and muffins and bacon. Sad, sad me. Though this morning I had a delicious soft boiled egg with soldiers (the ultimate way to start your day). I made the perfect soft boiled egg, thanks to my Egg Perfect Egg Timer, which I want you all to buy because it has literally transformed my life (no exaggeration possible.)  New Zealand eggs are strangely much better than English ones, very tasty and delicious and richer in every way.

The reason I mention the Egg Perfect Egg Timer, btw, is because I read today the most pretentious article to date in the Guardian, which is a pretty steep statement, but it is TRUE. In fact it was so pretentious I was actually offended and spent a good 5 minutes imagining punching the author in the face and then forcing him to live in rural Afghanistan for the rest of his life and eat poorly boiled eggs for all eternity and BE THANKFUL FOR IT. Strangely unsatisfying. Anyway I share this article with you so you can also feel your soul curdling at the idea you've read such rubbish. I like to have my soul curdle with others. More sociable.

Speaking of the Guardian, here are some more things I have been reading today. This is SO gross that I had to share - imagine sticking your fork through a dessicated frog in your salad. I count that as psychological trauma, and 10 pounds of Tesco vouchers is not going to cut it.

NB I am typing this on Tim's new laptop which doesn't have a pound sign! It's a NEW ZEALAND LAPTOP.

Also, this, which fills me with joy and nostalgia. Waitrose! How I love you. Also, now I have shopped in New Zealand, Waitrose prices seem ridiculously cheap and wonderful. The best shop here is New World, I suppose, which is more like Sainsbury's, which I consider overpriced and shitty, unlike the glorious godlike wonderfulness of the Waitrose deli section, which is almost like dying and going to heaven. No exaggeration possible. I've interviewed people who've had near-death experiences, and they assure me I am correct. They know. 

****

This is going to be a very random post of all the thoughts that have gone through my head today, in case you haven't realised that yet, in which case, poor you, already halfway through and totally confused.

****

Yesterday the Consultant came round and did his ward round. My consultant is a wonderful surgical consultant, very old school and wonderful and reassuring and wears the suits and ties, you know, and rarely (never) rolls up his sleeves. Actually no one does in New Zealand. We chatted for a long time about the Monarch butterfly in theatre the last time I went down: to be precise, the exact specs he used to photo them ("Just take it down another f-stop and you'll be there. I love them - they're called Happy Wanderers, you know. I once considered taking 2 weeks of annual leave just to watch them break out of the chrysalis in butterfly season. I thought about calling in sick.") Anyway, he is brilliant and a mine of random knowledge, which he quizzes us on during the round. At the end of a particularly excruciating round on bilirubin metabolism, all of which all of us had clearly forgotten forever as soon as we left med school, as he left the ward, he stopped by a large flower display and turned to one of the Regs:

Mr W: "(Reg A), what is this flower called?"
Reg A: "Er...."
Mr W: "No one?"
Reg B: "A daffodil?'
Mr W: "A daffodil! A daffodil?? No, not a daffodil. A daffodil! (Reg B). I'm ashamed."
Reg B: "I'm ashamed too."
Mr W: "Well, what about this one?"
Med student: "Er...is it a foxglove?:
Mr W: "A foxglove! Oh dear! Oh dear! We have a lot of work to do. We have a lot of work to do."

****

Today I went swimming and was disconcerted when a very small child tried to enter my cubicle, which didn't have a lock. Instead of a lock, there was just a sad hole where the lock used to be. This clearly fascinated small child, who pushed the door quite hard and then said, "OOOOOOOOOOOOOH" when I pushed it back.

There then ensued a pushing contest between me and the small child, one which I won fairly easily only to see the child's eye peek straight through the sad lockless hole and a small voice say, "OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!" again. For your peace of mind I will reveal I was wearing underwear at this point. Fighting back the urge to lie on the floor laughing I said very sternly, "there is someone in here so please stop pushing the door, and it is rude to look through holes!" to which the small child responded, "Jane, Jane, look through the hole! It's a PERSON!"

Clearly Jane was a no-fun tattletale because the next thing I heard was mum come into the changing room.
Mum: "Have you been pushing people's doors open again?"
Child: (in most innocent aggrieved voice imaginable) "Noooooooooooo?"
Mum: "Jane tells me you've been looking in at people changing. I TOLD YOU about this the last time."
Child: "Noooo I HAVEN'T! I haven't I haven't I HAVEN'T!"

Comedy swimming in New Zealand.

****

Yesterday Tim and I met up with a couple of UK vets. Vets are a fascinating people, aren't they? They are to me, anyway. Embarrassingly, rather than socialise and be pleasant and interesting people, Tim and I just spent the entire evening quizzing them about the different anaesthetic drugs they use, how to cannulate a horse, and how to intubate a rabbit (I literally cannot even imagine this. Their mouths are SO TINY.) Vet 1: "Yeah once you've intubated a rabbit you can intubate anything." Vet 2: "You can't see anything so you just have to stick the tube in and listen for air." Me: "Do...do they frequently get hypoxic brain damage???" Vet 1: "Hmm. Not really." Me: "Wow." This went on all evening.

Anyway, Tim and I had fun, and the vets were clearly too polite to try and change the topic (actually this is a lie: one of them did try and change the topic, to which Tim replied, "I had no idea dogs were routinely vaccinated for leptospirosis in the UK", which I think is probably the best non-sequitur I've ever heard.)

****

Time for dinner! Have to go :-)

Doctor Who!

Has finally come to New Zealand. I enjoyed the first episode, though I found Amy and Rory splitting up distressing. WHY DO YOU FUCK AROUND WITH AMY AND RORY, MOFFAT? This makes me angry. Stop it.

In other news, I went snowboarding.

This part of the story really started on Saturday evening. I had just come off nights, and was driving up to Turoa with Julia, who was finishing at 11pm.

Julia: "I will pack the night before, and this way as soon as I finish my shift, I will come over and we will drive straight up so we will probably get there by 1am. Yay!"

At 11:30pm, I gave Julia a call.

Julia: "Sorry! I've only just left the hospital. But I'll be with you in 5 minutes! Though realistically it is probably more like 40 minutes because I need to pack. But in a way, 5 minutes. We'll definitely have left by 12:15!"
Me: "DON'T WORRY ABOUT IT, I AM SO AWAKE, SO SO AWAKE."

00:45: Julia's car pulls up outside.

Julia: "Hello! I'm sorry I'm so late."
Me: "That's ok. Can I put my suitcase in the boot?"
Julia: "Um. Not really."
Me: "Why not?"
Julia: "I can't work out how to open the boot. I...I've tried all the buttons in the car but I've just been repeatedly opening the car bonnet. Except - OH! What's this button?"

*Car bonnet opens*

Julia: "oh....no."
Me: ".....don't worry, I'll put my stuff on the back seat." *opens back door*
Julia: "OH!"
Me: "What?"
Julia: "I forgot this car had back doors! Oh! Well that's lovely. I just...I just loaded the car by putting the front seat down and then loading it through the front doors. That's why your seat is all .... pushed forward."
Me: "How do you adjust the seat?"
Julia: "I don't know! Except, maybe this button..."

*Car bonnet opens*

Julia: "Oh."
Me: "Can you actually drive this car?"
Julia: "Yes! But I am very, very sleepy. I've been up since 6am!"
Me: "Well, I am very, very awake, so there is basically no way this can go wrong."
Julia: "I think you are almost certainly right."

We actually arrived at the yurt at about 3:30 in the morning, having had a McDonalds drive-thru break (we had a lamb burger! It was quite exciting) and helped a woman jump-start her car, which was also quite exciting (woman: "Can you help me jump start my car?" Me: "We have no idea how to jump start a car." Julia: "But we do know how to open the bonnet!") About 5 minutes after we got to the yurt, everyone else arrived at the yurt. This is how we know they arrived at the yurt:

The door opened and
6 doctors ran in, shouting,

"I'M SO DRUNK! I'M SO DRUNK! I'M SO DRUNK!"
and then fell onto the floor.

Luke: "The slopes are rubbish tomorrow! Everything is going to be closed! So we are REALLY DRUNK!"
Nick: "You may wonder why the sofas are all pushed together. This is because we had sofa Olympics. I WON."
Jenny: "WE DANCED ON THE TABLE. IN THE BAR. EVERYONE LIKED US."
Helen: "I'm so, so, so, so, so, so, so sorry. I'M SO SORRY."
Me: "It's ok, we're quite awake."
Julia: "I've been up for almost 24 hours."
Me: "I feel great!"
Everyone: "We also feel great!"

Then they danced until 6am on the kitchen counter and Julia and I split a bottle of wine, because the drive had after all been slightly stressful, especially the part where Julia almost fell asleep. And then Jenny lay on the floor and tried to eat a packet of doritos but missed her mouth and then made a doritos snow angel on the floor. It was pretty arty.

And then we went to bed.
And then I got up at 8am and I went snowboarding with the other yurt, because there was no way my yurt was going anywhere at 8am, except perhaps to crawl to the bathroom and stick their head in the toilet.

Our side of the mountain was closed due to very high winds, so we had to drive to the other side of the mountain, Whakapapa. Whakapapa has a beginners area called Happy Valley, and it was a very, very happy place indeed. There I learned to snowboard, and it was awesome. Snowboarding is so much fun! It is also very tiring, more tiring than the Ultimate Abs workout, which as Kirsty, Ching and Tori knows, is PRETTY TIRING. In fact it was a little bit like doing the Ultimate Abs workout repeatedly, through the day, for 6 hours. I have never used my abs so much during the day. On the plus side, they are now as steel. On the minus side, I can no longer move without excruciating pain. Swings and roundabouts.

About 3pm, it started sleeting.
We left the slopes around 4pm. We were pretty wet.
Then we went back to the yurt.
I had a shower.

When I returned to the yurt it was spotlessly clean and everyone was sitting around, looking despondently at me.

me: "Did you guys make it up the slope today?"
Everyone: *whimpers*
Me: "Are we feeling a bit rough today?"
Jenny: "Rough?"
Simon: "I think we may have all died."
Nick: "I need a beer."
Luke: "I'm so....so....sleepy."
Me: "Are we going to go out?"

We went out.
It was a night of absolute comedy, perhaps culminating in the DJ playing a remix of the Lion King soundtrack, perhaps culminating in dancing on the table, perhaps culminating in when Tom picked me up, held me upside down over his shoulder and then spun me around until he dropped me, or perhaps in fact culminating in the most terrible morning after I've ever experienced, or at least experienced for the last year.

Then we got up at 6am to go snowboarding again.
I have to confide in you, my friends. I did not feel the most great I have ever felt.
Luckily for me the weather was truly, truly terrible. We drove up the mountain, stood for 5 minutes in the pelting rain and 10 metre visibility, and then we drove back down again. So we didn't go snowboarding. And also, I didn't vomit. So, you know, swings and roundabouts.

Next weekend, we're going to do it all again!

In other news, it's lovely to read about what you've been doing as well. I read all the comments you leave and it's awesome to know about the stuff happening in your lives. Blogging is a bit of a one way activity, unlike emailing, so let me know what you've been up to.

But just to conclude.
Snowboarding is amazing.
The end.

Nights, nights

Just finished the 1st of a 7 day series of nights, and sitting in my sitting room, wondering is it ok to have pizza for breakfast? Pizza and weirdly shaped hash browns. I think always YES!

Tim has gone to Wellington to watch the All Blacks play so the house is strangely quiet. We are doing a sad shift of overlapping nights again - we've never been on nights together, but have always been on nights either just before or after each other - so I haven't seen him properly since last Monday and won't see him properly again until next Monday (10 days time). Sad!

Nights are weirdly short here - 8 hours - and days are disturbingly long: a long day is 16 hours long. 16 hours! That means you literally (and never have I used the word 'literally' more accurately) cannot get 8 hours sleep, a fact which I find very sad as I am a constant craver of the 8 hours sleep. On the other hand, I am disconcerted by waking up after nights and having time to do more than just shower, eat, and go to work, so it's all swings and roundabouts. But I think I would prefer to have more sleep.

(update: pizza is delicious for breakfast!)

Anyway, a quick hello from me and a hope that you are all well and happy back in the UK. Let me know how you're getting on - it's a bit of a lonely week here in NZ! But then, nights always are.

A cycle by the river

This afternoon, I went for a cycle by the river.

Tim was on-call today, so I had no one to play with but my shadow. 

But that was ok, because it was a beautiful day!

Palmerston North is a windy city, and it is surrounded by mountains filled with wind turbines.

It was super quiet, no one else around.

The Manuwatu river runs through Palmy.

It's a pretty sweet scene. 

A cycle trail runs all the way along.

It's all very stunning.

I cycled for about 2 hours, and then turned into the centre to find civilisation.

 A mini train!

By the time I'd finished cycling, it was 5pm. Having eaten at 10am and then gone swimming and then cycling, I was HUNGRY. I realised the only option was to go and purchase some gin to ease the pain.

Turns out, in NZ, you can't buy spirits in the supermarket. You have to go to liquorland!

I felt like a serious alcoholic going in here. But I purchased my Gordon's gin. And I managed to catch the last rays of the afternoon sun on the balcony.

A pretty much perfect day. :-)

Another sunny day

Apparently we average over 2000 hours per year of sunshine in Palmerston North, New Zealand. And this weekend we're racking up those hours. We've done the laundry and hung it out, and I'm going for a cycle along the riverside later, but first, would you like to have a little tour of our house?

Our sunny sitting room, with the biggest TV you've ever seen.

Lovely Tim!

Our fridge is full of smiles, because our kitchen is so gorgeous! So gorgeous and completely overstocked with implements (A large AND small serving tongs? And a large AND small set of salad servers?) Apparently all essentials.

You can see our balcony just outside. It's so sunny! My skin is making vitamin D like there's no tomorrow.

Tim is confused by where the bathroom is, apparently, and brushes his teeth in the nearest place.

This is not the bathroom. This is the bedroom!

On the bed is a huge pile of our skiing stuff.

As modelled by Jenny and Simon.

Sexy.

That picture was taken in the chalet, btw. We do not have curtains like that. Thankfully. 

The pre-ski. Look at my pink jacket! So pink. So reduced in price.

And the apres-ski.

 Back to our suntrap. This is the backyard.

See the bikes in the background (Below)?

I don't know what these plants are (up)!

But I know what these ones are (down):

LEMONS!

Sunny love from NZ to you all :-)