Lucky Me

Hello, Hello!

Some of you may (even fondly, perhaps) remember a chapter of my life when I oh-so confidently referred to myself as “The Luckiest Girl in the World” (I, personally, liked that chapter). You may also recall the nice, hefty whack to the face that knocked that “rad babe” right off of that pedestal she so foolishly danced upon.  Happily, I can now honestly report that (with the exception of a few minor shortfalls) my life has returned to its “ordinary” tendency of going extraordinarily well.

I have superstitious inklings that it has something to do with the Pilot Whale’s tooth I found in Ngawi at my “Until We Meet Again, New Zealand” mini-celebratory weekend of “Kiwiana”. I spent my time in that lobster-filled village of tractors decapitating and devouring Paua (Abalone) avec beurre, good wine and great girls.  There, a big chunk of tooth was just sunbathing in the sand we were strolling on before “tea”, and (as if life gets much better than this paragraph) that evening over a bowl of marshmallows I learned that this “find” was quite special- whale’s teeth are powerful talismans of ancient Polynesian culture! I believe that I am living verification of this; having “lost” so many teeth it simply MUST be good luck to have finally “found” one! Unfortunately my little amulet came a week to late to have “properly assessed” that theory at the sunny, drink-filled Christchurch Cup races!

Or, maybe sometime between my daily Pina Coladas, Thanksgiving-a-la-beach and jumping out of a plane from 14,000 feet above Ben’s new Hawaiian home, I picked up a little bit of his notoriously good “JuJu”. On second thought, while I was there I suffered a less-than-graceful blood-drenched freak boogie boarding accident that resulted in a broken nose. So, maybe I just needed another good smack across the face to turn things around.  

Then again, there’s always magic to soak up in a cup of Ghirardelli’s on the Chicago Christmas window display “audit” and shopping extravaganza my mom and I celebrate annually and, mornings that begin with a whiff of the blue-berry and blue-grassy wood-burnt smokey smell of Saturday that wafts up the stairs of my home-sweet-Detroit are eternally divine. There was even something undeniably “special” about the bubbly-inspired (yet whole-heated) rendition of “Party in the USA” with which my family of friends rang in 2011. Heck, living on the other side of the planet makes sleeping (terribly) in the same rugged-a-bump ski bunks with my sister seem “Heavenly”!

In the aftermath of the earthquakes, I certainly feel fortunate to have my health and happy-little-life here in New Zealand (and that of my friends and family here) and I am milking that one for all it’s worth! My good friend Caeley (the Canadian I met on the plane) and I ran and river-crossed (okay, avec a few “wee” berry-picking sojourns) the Mototapu Off-Road Marathon last month and I am officially registered for Ironaman New Zealand in March! I’ve shivered a swim in the glacial waters of Lake Tekapo (of which my “funny” American accent cannot accurately pronounce despite it’s status as my favourite lake in New Zealand!) snorkeled bare off the wetsuit-worthy beaches of Coromandel Peninsula and even learned to water ski in an irrigation pond! These sorts of mini-adventures have me convinced that words like “plenteous” and “copiousness” were created by the poor, poor people who were somehow damned with the daunting task of describing New Zealand. I certainly never under-appreciate a drinkably-clean stream on a good “tramp”, home-grown roast or my flatmates’ weekly farmers market habit that keeps our cozy retro home full of Fijoas, pumpkin cakes and borsch.

But, really, let’s face it, I live in New Zealand to study chocolate and that certainly doesn’t suck. So, I think I’ll stick around here for a while and add one more “tick” to the tally of Dr. Clark’s that my fam seems to be accumulating. It’s a big job but I found this book next to the office copier called, “How to write your doctoral dissertation in 15 minutes a day”, and doing as instructed (okay, a little bit more) is workin’ pretty good! In fact, my research has been accepted to conferences from Frankfurt to Stanford and even found five dollars when I presented at the Australian Agricultural and Resource Economics Symposium in February!

            So, yes, it may be a bit foolish and exclusive to go around calling oneself “The luckiest girl in the world” and, don’t you worry, God got that one through to me l-o-u-d & c-l-e-a-r. But (in accordance to Blerta’s Theory of Life Balance) I certainly do appreciate just how good these good times are and intend to celebrate just how lucky I actually am.

Hope all is well at home wherever home may be.

Love,

Alexandra