Dave Thompson's Blog

Winter in the Winter?

As I sit here rocking back and forth to Zara by Arty (look this god up on YouTube if you have never heard of him) I came to the realization that I had not made a blog post in over a year. One…….whole……..year! In internet time I think that roughly equates to one million earth years — and if I remember correctly (which I always do) humans weren’t even roaming the earth a million years ago. Some freakish hybrid of ape/man was slowly dragging its monkey mits across the dirt watching other ape men try to throw rocks at each other. Now that would be something I would love to see recreated, a fast five minute timeline of the evolution of man from ape, like that guy on YouTube who took pictures of himself every day for 6 years straight (creepy side note about that video, the guy dint smile ONCE the entire time — just messed up his hair, got his haircut, or changed his clothes).

But enough with the boring history/one million times more probable creation of man lesson, what I am doing here is to share what has happened over the past year of my life. Will it blow your minds? Knock the socks off your feet? Make you experience a euphoric sensation that will leave you drooling at the mouth and your extremities numb? I can’t promise that all three will happen but I know for a fact that at least one of them will happen (HINT: it’s going to the third one).

Where to start? Well I guess I have to start from the time I got back from New Zealand, Land of the Long White Cloud. Let’s put it this way, from the second day I arrived back in the states I became absurdly ill with some sort of mutant strain of the swine flu — I couldn’t eat anything, had chest pain, unreal amounts of phlegm in my throat,  had boogers up the wazoo, and was constantly shitting my pants. It sucked, sucked real hard. But it forced me to stay inside for the first time in six months and guess what was sitting in front of me? A nice shiny PlayStation 3.

Let me preface this by saying I might be one of the bigger vidiots (kid who loves to play video games) on the face of the planet. I know all the cool terms and slick lingo of the avid modern gamer: gg, gl, hf, uber, mIRC, CAL, CEVO, ESEA, pugging, scrims, de_stroyed, lawlz u mad?, oh my gawd cheatz, stop interping you pussy, THIS SERVER SUCKS SO BAD WTF, etc. So having been experiencing a completely different lifestyle in New Zealand I was ready to embrace my old lifestyle with a vengeance — even though I had to constantly get up and make toilet runs. 

Ideally, I wanted to play computer games online but my laptop (not a desktop, sad I know) was pushing 4 years of age (uber lame) — Plus I had no good desk/gaming area to set up my computer without being in the way of everybody in the house (best spot was in the kitchen, go figure). So I had to resort to playing console games, which I have enjoyed in the past with games like Final Fantasy 10, Kingdom Hearts, and GTA but what I really wanted to do was frag faces online.

I found a very happy medium between quenching my thirst for fragging faces and engaging in a nice long single player campaign with the game Demon’s Souls — an incredibly genius game that seamlessly incorporates online interaction/pvp and a well driven single player story (check out the review here http://bit.ly/DQ0kt). Most people could give a shit about a brilliantly designed video game because it still is a big social no no to be in love with the art (hell yes it’s an art) of video games – I’ll save that rant for later.  So as I burned hours upon hours leveling up my character, seiging castles, and taking down bosses reminiscent of Shadow of the Collossus (another CLASSIC) I came to the realization that I will never EVER stop playing video games – they are just too good.

After I conquered the first play through of Demons Souls it was already time to go back to school to finish off my last semester of college. Let me sum it up by saying I had classes Monday and Wednesday only, I drank heavily, coordinated a LARP party, and I beat Infamous and God Of War III – a successful last hoo rah to say the least. You know it was getting bad when a group of friends and I didn’t have to show ID’s to the bouncer anymore because “we had been there every night for the past two weeks”.

I didn’t apply to any big boy jobs as I wanted one last summer of freedom surfing, kayaking, fishing, and fragging. That summer of freedom spilled over into the fall of freedom, and now has officially become the winter of freedom – and boy does it feel good. Is it going to come crashing down all around me very soon? Most likely; However, it feels great to be unemployed and back in the swing of things in December when it actually FEELS like December – I’m ready to snowboard, attend some ugly Christmas parties, and drink some eggnog.

Winter In The Summer?

Its been a long time since my last update, and I am sure all one of my followers has been anxiously anticipating my next post. I say to him fear not and wait no longer because it is here! In all of its unfiltered glory!

I have been living in an utter paradox for the past few months. Instead of having my summers in June through August like everyone else the United States, I have lived the life of an seasoned Inuit. I have been chilled to the core more times than I can possibly remember, forcing me to become best friends with a rubber hot water bottle (Thanks NZ for no central heating). It was a definite wake up call to my normal June and July months which were spent wearing just togs everyday, but like a capable coyote I casually conformed to my contemporary circumstances.

As the days slowly turned longer and the nights shorter, I became independent of that cursed water bottle. I moved from long johns with jeans, 3 layers, and a wool coat to just shorts and a tee shirt. The transistion was slow and came with several fake outs (couple of 18-19 degree Celsius days), however the weather is finally looking to have calmed itself it down and is starting to make sense to me, at least in a temporary sense.

However it is now November, a month that instinctively makes me want to bundle up every time I leave my house. So, like a stoic knight,  I have to fight off these instincts with boundless valor and courage and force myself to put on shorts and a tee shirt. Its a daunting task, but I am willing to bear the burden for as long as I am here. I know what you are thinking and the answers is yes, keep my never ending struggles in your prayers.

The funny thing about my entire experience here is that I have come to call this country my home. I have often caught myself referencing my apartment as my “home” but never really took the time to sit down and actually think about the implications of that statement. Back at my home university I don’t think I ever called any of my dorms or my apartment “home”. Maybe It is because I am geographically too close to my actual home, which is a mere 50 miles away. Or, more likely, I have been in a place where I can not go to class, do whatever the F I want, and truly get away with it. That sense of pure freedom is what I usually have at home in Manchester, NH when I am on breaks.

It would take me an eternity to list all the memorable moments from this experience so far, especially the funny ones. Also I need to do some extensive research through all my photos and all my mates photos to come up with a comprehensive list of eveything (as some of them have slipped my mind), so instead I will end with a quote from a somewhat famous theoretical physicist:

“The world is a dangerous place. Not because of those who do evil, but because of those who look on and do nothing.” Albert Einstein

And boom goes the dynamite.

Summer In The Winter?

Ah, the lovely warm month of August. Usually at this time I would be caddying twice a week and be making more money than my friends do slaving away five full days inside of a greasy restaurant. This would leave me in a unique position of opportunity. My activity plate during the summer would always be clean as a whistle, whereas everyone else’s is overflowing with labor. This would force me to choose between a variety of high stress activities ranging from kayking, sailing, surfing, sailing, wakeboarding, drinking, golfing, or combining all activities into a day long stressathon on the beautiful Cape Cod Islands. Damn, summers are so frustrating sometimes.

I decided I needed a vacation to relieve myself of the seemingly never ending stress and what better way to do it then by eliminating summer all together. At first I was a little skeptical about winter in New Zealand. I thought it was going to be unbearably cold and I was going to be forced into hibernation during the week and only be able to crawl out on the weekends to snowboard. This was essentially true for the first week. I drank during the week and went snowboarding 4 hours away in Queenstown on the weekend but I have not followed that routine since. I have slowly but surely turned my winter back into a mild form of my “stressful” summers by doing a couple of sweet as (Kiwi for awesome) activities:

1.) With a sleeping bag and a bottle of Jim Bean, I decided to venture down to a local beach with a few of my friends. Apparently 25 other people shared the same idea, and a few of them raised my ideas and brought firewood that lasted the night, a power generator to pump some badass beats, and a 4WD car to tool around in on the beach. By the time I woke up the next morning to a beautiful New Zealand sunrise I had accomplished a few things:

• Played with a glow in the dark frisbee
• Saw some Kiwi’s twirl and spit fire like a frickin’ circus act
• Ventured into the local woods and made another fire and befriended some other Kiwi’s
• Stood ontop of that car while it barelled down the beach while striking a stupid ass surfer pose
• Finished the bottle of whiskey

Also forgot to mention that we didnt sleep on the beach but in this humongous cave right behind it. It was a very interesting night to say the least.

2.) Me and a few friends decided to have an overnight excursion at a local mountain range dubbed the Silver Peaks. Considering this was my first real overnight tramp (Kiwi for hiking) I was pretty pumped about it. The trail was only 5.6 miles with a change in elevation of roughly 1200 feet so I figured it would be relatively easy consdiring we had the entire day to do it. Well most of it was easy until we hit the part of the trail known as the Devils Staircase. If the name wasnt ominious enough, the width of the trail (literally a foot wide with very steep embankments that would require monkey like agility to climb back up) was completely overgrown with prickers, loose gravel, and sometimes extremely steep drops that required a turn around descent. Lets just say we all were gasping for air several times during the hike. As anti-fun as I am making this sound, It couldnt have been more of a rewarding experience. I got some other-wordly views and was able to sleep under a crystal clear sky littered with stars and the light of a full moon. Its safe to say I am officially in love with hiking.

So which is better, summer in Cape Cod or “summer” in New Zealand? It’s a no brainer. These two can not even remotely be compared in any way, shape, or form. They are literally opposites, but they are a rare form of opposites. They are complimentary opposites, they give eachother definitive meaning. Sacrificing my summers on the Cape and experiencing a “summer” in New Zealand has made me realize how much I miss my Cape Cod summers, but also at the same time so glad I got the opportunity to experience something completely different.

Surfing Down Under

Ever tried something that is just way out of your league? Like learning to crawl then immediately try to stand up and sprint? End conclusion is a hissy fit, tears, and possibly blood? Ya, that pretty much sums up my transition from surfing in New England to trying to surf in New Zealand.

Surfing in New Zealand is completely different than surfing in New England. An obvious point as they are half way around the world from eachother, but the differences never manifested until I actually went surfing for the first time here.

Main Differences

• The currents are ridiculously strong, specifically at the beach breaks. The other day I was trying to surf a local beach break but I just ended up looking like a god damn fool of a took. I attempted to paddle straight out into never ending 5 foot breakers only to never even make it to them. It took me 45 minutes to realize that I was essentially paddling in place. I Must have looked funny as hell to the locals walking their dogs.
• Measuring waves is completely different in New Zealand. It seems like a very simple idea; you see a 6 foot surfer riding a wave that is 2 feet over his head so you would say that the wave is 8 feet. Well back in New Englad that would be correct, but not in New Zealand. Here they use the “Hawaiian scale” which essentially measures the waves from the back. So an overhead wave, which typically runs 6 feet or larger is measured as 3 feet here in NZ. Being the ignorant immigrant on my first time out, I happily paddled into 5 foot waves with 7 to 8 foot sets of death. Needless to say I got pummeled. Hard.
• There are NO crowds. If you have a car, a surfboard, and a little local knowledge you can almost find a break (sometimes even a point break) all to your lonesome. Oh, and a “crowd” here in New Zealand is 10-15 guys.

^Me paddling out at Murdering Bay^

The no crowds aspect is a huge plus for me as I am desperately trying to learn how to surf on a shortboard (back in the states I only longboarded). Its been alot of falling and practically no surfing. Sounds like fun right? You know it. But Just being out there and marveling at New Zealand’s unparalleled beauty is a treat in itself. The shredding of waves will come in due time, until then I will continue to be beaten to shit by Posiedon and love every minute of it.

New Zealand: The Beginnings

Sitting in class today I had what some would call an epiphany. I was in my Drama On Stage and On Screen class (yes its as silly AND as awesome as it sounds) and wrote down the date in my handy dandy notebook. The date that I wrote was July 29th. Now this date seems completely unimportant and mundane unless its someones birthday (I apologize in advance), but this date made me ponder about how long I have actually been in the land of the Kiwis.

I have already been in New Zealand for 5 weeks of pure awesomeness. I have made some outstanding friends, surfed the shark infested waters, snowboarded the treeless mountain tops, hiked some sweet local mountains, Curled (yes the sport that has two designated janitors sweeping feverishly at ice), luged, mountain biked, and danced like a complete fool at the local pubs (Kiwis dig that). It has been an enriching and fulfilling first month in good old NZ (pronounced NZED).

^Hey internet suck on that! (thats me in the grey btw)^

Even though I am currently having the time of my life fully emersing myself into a culture that was completely foreign to me, I was very nervous about my experience pre-departure. I was leaving behind my family, heaps of friends, and completely isolating myself from what was comfortable/normal to me. I had this misplaced sense of unavoidable nostalgia. I felt like I was going to miss home so much that I would not be able to enjoy myself, but that misconstrued notion could’nt have been more wrong. Putting myself out there was the best thing I could have possibly done. It made me be more independent and reach out, which in turn has given me some of the best experiences of my life to date. So all you fickle folks out there who are on the fence about studying abroad my advice is as follows: sack up and do it!

Some other notable happenings in New Zealand that deserve honorable mention:

1.) Celebrated a friends 21st by playing laser tag, buying a keg, finishing the keg, then proceeding to the bars (dont let anyone else tell you laser tag is only for kids)

2.) 6 Kiwi’s showed up to my flat (apartment) in full blown costumes strapped to a keg. They couldnt be unstrapped until they finished the keg. My friends and I were more than happy to oblige with their demands.

3.) Me and 2 mates bought a car to scoot around New Zealand in. Its everyones favortie 1993 Toyota Caldina! (you have to say Caldina in a spanish accent)

On a final note, my buddy re-introduced me to one of my favorite youtube sensations Ronald Jenkees. Please enjoy his jubilent demeanor and music: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=smE-uIljiGo

A Formal Introduction

Hello fellow data snatchers, my name is David Thompson and I am what some would call a manbeast (one word, look it up).

Think I am a liar? Well I am going to side with common logic on this one and profoundly yell out “YES!”. It has become increasingly apparent over the the last decade that the anonymity of the internet has given undersized walking, talking vagina’s a chance to proclaim immortality. Everyone has seen the posts on youtube videos of aspiring good hearted singers being heckled to Timbuktu by some low life douchebag who proclaims “my six your old sister can sing better than you and shes retarded and a mute!” (not witty whatsoever). But I have come to love technology and the intenret so much that I would never lie to it or anyone who uses it. I am straight shooter and when I say I am a manbeast, well hell, I am a god damn manbeast!

Let me ease all of your minds with some examples of why I could be considered a manbeast:

1.) I go to school at the University of New Hampshire located in the state of New Hampshire which is located in the United States of America. Am I currently there? Uh Uh, I am actually in New Zealand, in the south island, in the lovely city of Dunedin where I will be studying for the next 5 months. Now who would move half way around the frickin globe to a country that is well known for its beautiful landscape and adventurous atmosphere? A manbeast.

2.) I recently bought 8 records (yes records, the type you need a record player to hear) for one New Zealand dollar, which is roughly equivalent to 68 american cents. Would that be considered a deal or a flat out steal? This point is irrelevant, what is relevant is whose records I actually purchased (slash stole). I will list some for you:

The World of Val Doonican (songs include: O’Raffertys Motor Cart, Delaney’s Donkey, The Jarvey Was A Leprechaun, and the classic Paddy Mcginty’s Goat)

Kamhal (world renowned homosexual African American soul singer straight out of New Zealand)

Brendan Dugan and Jodie Vaughn (This dynamic duo’s John Hancock is right on the damn cover! And they look like brother and sister)

Gheorghe Zanfir (a cross between a rat and a Ukrainian, complete with sleezy mustache, striking pose, and a flute that might have been whittled by Bilbo Baggins)

^Do I need to explain why this makes me a manbeast?^

3.) I once farted on a girl in high school who was badgering me with questions about god knows what. This lead to a rather comical gag session over a nearby garbage can (sadly she did not throw up).

I have given you the viewer the power to make up your own mind about my credentials for being a manbeast. Decide wisely, as this may be your last chance