Reassembling some sort of temporary social network on a daily basis is really fucking draining. I'm back in the bottom of the ditch covered in mud and cold rain tonight after the three pints and lovely evening I spent with Jill from Scotchland last night. Regardless of what happened, I'll never see her again. Maybe a day in Glasgow later next year. I'm inclined to say...so what? Tonight I'm stuck with 20 year old drunken Brits and nothing catching my fancy for tomorrow in a town where there is an endless list of things to do. Ouch.

So. New Zealand's scenery is epic but doesn't surpass America's treasures by much. The difference is that New Zealand is a continuous marvel of nature, whereas in America you drive through five cities worth of Modesto to get to Yosemite, by which time you've lost your humanity to the point where Half Dome does nothing more for you than to ask yourself how spherical it really is.

I'm in Queenstown, where, apparently, bungee jumping was commercialized. So you can imagine what this city is like - a tourist hell on a stunning lake overlooking stunning mountains. Hmm.

I've realized I only have so much interest in hiking. Tongariro crossing really was a spiritual experience, but frankly, I want to go to Bangkok tomorrow. I need to be in crazy cities to observe the rot. I need the challenge of the non-anglo world, even though I'm going to bitch and whine about it endlessly once I get there. In the meantime I try to not beat myself up over not being 5000% excited over two more weeks in this country when white people in America have to slave away in cubes in exchange for a lifetime of debt.

Next time I promise I'll post on an up evening. You'll get rainbows and fuzzy bunnies and spiritual insight and all that good crap.