Every week I am basically granted a three-day weekend. I have no classes on Fridays. Obviously, this means Fridays should be set aside for work but inevitably and devoted to watching youtube videos and playing Bubbles.

This past weekend, of course, my three-day weekend was devoted to Queen Charlotte Sounds, a place renowned for its beauty or perhaps its remoteness or its remote beauty or something like one of those things that I just listed.

Anyway, long story short I hiked about 15 miles and also did a bit of sea kayaking, which looked something like this:

the face of an action sports superstar

the face of an action sports superstar

A couple was murdered by the driver of a water taxi in the Sounds a while ago. One of the people on the Sounds weekend with me assessed the situation thusly:

“No one would ever murder me, I’m so sweet!”

That’s but a taste of the weekend’s discussions.

It’s perhaps worth noting that I finally discovered who precisely my seven year-old New Media professor (who, it was recently revealed, is somewhere in the range of early-to-mid-thirties despite appearing to be about 25 at most (Flatmate Michelle: “25? I thought you said he was seven?” Me: “He’s a very old seven.”)) reminds me of. He is a careful balance between global sensation/podcast pioneer/possible the stupidest man in the world/definitely owner of the world’s roundest head/professional friend of comedy legend Ricky Gervais, Karl Pilkington

he famously claimed he could eat a knob at night

he famously claimed he "could eat a knob at night"

and everybody’s favorite completely incompetent fiction sports reporter, Alan Partridge

This was an important realization for me which also made it about 5000 times harder not to accidentally burst into laughter. If you don’t know Karl Pilkington, Google him to find some of the ridiculous stuff he’s said. Then imagine it being said in that grating, over-the-top Alan Partridge voice. Mixed with the awkward silences after his constant attempts at actual jokes (man am I ever pulling for those to succeed–I really do like the guy despite what these comments may suggest), it is nearly impossible for me not to laugh in that class.

This weekend and onward marks the beginning of my forced expulsion from my glorious if somewhat hermit-like lifestyle, wherein I have to spend several hours of specific days wandering aimlessly and exploring the town (since it’s taken me too long to make friends who would do this with me/would show me interesting places). If you have any doubts about the amazing and exciting things I am likely to find around good ol’ Wellington, let this wonderful image prove you wrong:

and that's just 2pm!

and that's just 2pm!

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