Hello again. Since returning to work at the University, I have been thrust right back into the thick of things. My job has consisted of working at basketball games and helping to organize the University of Auckland's first poetry slam (at least in multiple years), complete with hiring a light up disco floor, because as you should know, nothing says poetry to me more than the pulsating glow of a light up disco floor. We had a great response from students who were keen to give slam poetry a go, and the event itself was an overwhelming success. I think we packed the venue out, with a nicely mixed crowd of over 300 people attending. On the night of the slam, my role was official time keeper, score counter, and....after talking to the professional slam poet Rives who was over for the Auckland Writers and Readers Festival and who kindly agreed to be our MC for the night, I was deemed to be the sacrificial poet. Well, for those of you who do not have a strong knowledge of what a sacrificial poet is in a slam, but you are picturing something else that is sacrificial, like a goat---you are not far off. Basically, it means that a poet gets up and does the first poem of the slam, and after the judges score them, the scores they receive are used as a base for scoring the later poets. Fine and dandy, right? EXCEPT, while I do enjoy writing songs and the odd rap, I am not a self professed poet, unlike EVERYONE ELSE in the slam. I had been threatened with the possibility of being the sacrifice earlier in the week, and had penned a feeble attempt that was mostly just pomp. But alas, Rives was insistent that there was a sacrifice, so at his and my coworker's insistence, I took one for the team and stepped up to the plate. I wrote a more honest attempt at a poem, because I figured that if I really had to do this, I should do it as well as I could and with some respect towards the art of slam. ANYWAY, I had to put my nerves aside, and delivered my poem that I had written an hour before in front of a packed 300 person room while standing on a light up disco floor. So really, it was probably a once in a lifetime experience. At the end of the event, almost all of the poets came down and thanked us for putting it on, and I think that slam poetry is going to become a strong developing art form on this University campus, which is really exciting. All of the poets were very talented, and I hope that I get to have a hand in organizing something like this again in the future.
Besides work, I have also been keeping myself busy for the last month searching for a room to rent in the city. Now, based on the amount of "room for rent" postings, you'd think that if I turned up, liked the room and people, and was willing to pay them each week to live there, we could make an easy deal. NOT SO. The renting market in Auckland is RIDICULOUS. I'd line up two or three places to go check out after work, bike over there, meet the people, and then be told that I'd get a text later that week. For each listing, there are probably at least 20 to 50 people that reply, a fact that became more apparent when I had to awkwardly stand in a hallway with five other people vying for the same room, all waiting to talk to the room renter. This Monday, after spending three weeks looking, I finally got my first glimmer of hope. After being incredibly lackluster about getting back to me,the guy who was letting one room basically led me to believe that I had gotten it, only to reply three hours later with the lame answer of "oh, well if the other person doesn't say that they want it by 8pm, i guess I can give it you." WHAT? I think that NSYNC said it best with "quit playing games with my heart." With my spirit slightly dampened with sadness and the dark rain from that evening, I cycled to first of another long string of rooms that I had lined up to view. The first one was a 20min ride from work, in a really nice area, and while it was slightly funky, the housemates were all awesome and introduced me to a new concept----actually being able to make a decision, in fact, instantly. "Sure, how about you move in this weekend?" YEEEEEEEEES! So I did. I now live right above a bay and if I walk for 5 min, I am surrounded by cafes, bars, and people. Now I am in the city, I don't have to waste hours commuting, I can go to things after 8pm, and my bike rides are better lit with street lights. Ah, hello Auckland!
Ok, o as far the pictures go, we have a good mix of a view from the top of that mountain in Queenstown I hiked up, some from wandering around Baldwin Street (the world's steepest residential street) and the Speight's Brewery tour in Dunedin, one of my new folding bike that I use while I am repairing the other one, and my new room, complete with two options of floor carpet, a neon mattress, and a nice shot of my decorative combo of a pink disco ball, tiger blanket, and a random picture of Mona Lisa that was already hanging on my wall. Til next time!
