But What About Thanksgiving?

As we get closer to Thanksgiving, I am struck by the fact that the rest of world moves straight from Halloween to Christmas. Halloween is a time to impress friends with the most self-absorption you can muster (a few years ago I was Snooki, for example..), and Christmas is a time mainly focused on the delicate balance of giving and taking. But what about time just to sit and be grateful? To wonder aloud how there are so many blessings for which to give thanks?

If this sentiment solidifies me as 'another one of those emotional Americans', consider me Proud To Be.


After emerging from the barrage of rainy days spent fighting inner beasts, I found that Queenstown was the most hospitable of hosts. I had planned to spend four, maybe five nights total. After more than two weeks soaking up the city's essence, I felt right at home navigating the streets and strolling along her soothing wharf.

I am thankful for every soul I've met along this journey, but the Universe spoiled me rotten in Queenstown. I am particularly thankful..


For Kylie.. who taught me a better way to journal (and therefore blog), who was happy to share the childlike joys of luging and gondola rides overlooking the city, and who allowed me to open up like only an over-emotional American with late night Fergburger* can.
(I'd like to take a moment and give the Universe some credit here. It had been raining all morning - week, really - but Kylie and I decided to trek up the gondola anyway. As we arrived at the top, the sky broke and we had beautiful weather for each of our five trips down the course. As we finished our final ride, the sky started spitting out hail and I giggled at the fortune of our timing.)

For Camille [read: kuh-My-lee].. who taught me that anyone can be your Brooo!, who understood the value of a well-timed cough drop, and who quickly became a friend worthy of altered travel plans.

For Julie.. who was a wonderful date after my Strays left: dinner-for-two at the fancy Italian joint, movie date with popcorn the next night, and consistent trips to Ferg complete with unintentional stalking of boys. Yum. She also taught me that when traveling, it's okay that some items on the list can only be checked off crudely and unceremoniously (as in the case of Milford Sound - wind, rain, hail, but checked off nonetheless).

For Higgs.. who was a sweet puppy dog when I needed a virtual cuddle the most, and who forced me to produce the exact meaning of 'lolol' [laughter of legitimately open lengths]©.

For Zac.. who didn't know me, yet graciously offered a ride with his friends to the All Blacks rugby game in Dunedin (a whirlwind event, like any good gameday), who served as the best half-dead panda god that ever was, and who taught me the value of looking fresh each and every day.

For Tom.. who managed to identify General Aladeen and Michael Jackson's lovechild on the dance floor, who appreciated the simple joy of a play structure after dark, and who left me with the biggest mystery of my travels.

For Fill and Elli.. who showed me what a great friendship can look like.

For Marek.. who undeniably provided me with the most intellectually stimulating conversations I've had in years ('You ooze intelligence'), who reinforced the value of a good wander by oneself, and who taught me that even subtly snobby Californians deserve a second chance. You're a legend, too, my friend.

For Tanya.. whose appreciation of crispy bacon made us instant pals, who reinforced the importance of capturing memories within a photograph, and whose love of Fireball reminded me that I do have friends worth cherishing.

For John.. who helped me realize just how Irish I really am, and who proved we make a damn good pair of wingmen.


Even those from my past whom I've forgiven (and whose forgiveness I undoubtably require) - but refuse to forget, I found on my mind a lot during my time in Queenstown. I am thankful for memories shared and lessons learned..

M.. whose attentiveness and thoughtfulness was unprecedented, even when a lack of maturity was unavoidable.

B.. who unintentionally taught me some of the hardest lessons in foresight and fortitude, and whose level of frustration was only surpassed by the continued depth of his love.

T.. whose patience and support was never fully appreciated by a partner with growing pains.

A.. who taught me to define loyalty.

S.. who repeatedly received unspeakable treatment yet never gave up on the potential he saw buried inside the blimp.

C.. whose alliance reminds me that it's better to build friends than rekindle wars, and who never lets me wallow for long.

M.. who never allows me to apologize for who I am or how I feel, and who continually teaches me the beauty of intersecting paths.


Where would I be without these people - new and old? Where would any of us be without the blessings in our lives? While you dance to 'Santa Baby' and await the arrival of Christmas and its tangible gifts, stop for a moment to give thanks for the intangible and immeasurable blessings you already possess. And if you'd like a taste of the real Stout Christmas (I'm pretty sure Jenni's with me on this too), turn up the spirit with Amy Grant's Christmas albums from '83 and '92.


Queenstown may have been a battle for me, but I went in ready to fight and I feel that I emerged victorious. I went face to face with my own demons, we had a civil discussion, both sides were heard, and then I smashed their little skulls.

Adventure Capital of the World, eh? Let me tell you what I know about that. Sophisticated nights on yachts were followed by sloppy meals at Fergburger (repeatedly). A side trip to Milford Sound was exhausting (ten hours on a bus for a 90-minute boat ride) but worth it - if only to see the Misty Mountains, the Remarkables, and the Mirror Lakes along the way - and you better believe I bought my commemorative Spoon! Strolling through the Queenstown Gardens was a refreshing and therapeutic break from the IPA-less pubs. A whirlwind 24-hour trip to Dunedin with a car full of strangers will never be matched nor forgotten. 'How do I get back to the Octagon?' 'That way..ish.' Free drinks taste better when established businesswomen are toasting to the independence of your journey. Getting caught on film and watching it the next morning? A surprisingly nice ego-boost. While the activities and side trips were heaps of fun, it was the exploration of myself and my supporters that led to the success of my stay.

As I finally pulled away from Queenstown in my newly rented car, Sunny the Rocket (it came pre-christened with a rockstar name), I was a little apprehensive to once again venture on my own. Not because I was afraid of my own company, but I now realized how much I wanted to share this experience with another soul. You can see now why my adventure with the Guide came at precisely the right moment..

Yet another reason to give thanks.


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*Fergburger. Hailed as the most famous eatery in Queenstown and the best burger in all of NZ, it 'is quite well known internationally despite not being a chain and only having one location'. Wide selection of burgers, super fresh ingredients, huge portions. Open a whopping 21 hours a day, 7 days a week. I wouldn't go so far as to say it was the best burger I've ever had (RIP Blimpy Burger), but it's not a bad sign that I ate there four, or five.. or six times (nevermind that it was across the street from my hostel). However, my highest marks go to Ferg Bakery next door.. mouthwatering baked goods at a reasonable price.


PVs
1. Explaining to a group of finance investors what an IPA is.. They legitimately did not understand.
2. Getting out of bed after both the Wolverines and the Tigers lost.
3. Yachts, shots, and futbol despots.
4. Learning to play Flukey Ball! Thanks to Fill and Elli :)
5. Being taught the rules and strategy of rugby from a jolly gentleman who was kind enough to humor me throughout the big game. (I still think it pales in comparison to both futbol and football.)
6. Trying pâté. Texturally intimidating, but my fear has been happily overruled.
7. Driving on the left side of the road!


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Photos
1. Nico, myself, Kylie, and Knut
2. The last group night out
3. Waving goodbye to Stray
4. Kylie and myself riding up the gondola!
5-7. Overlooking Queenstown from the luge course
8. Fergburger
9. Fettuccine Carbonara dinner date
10. Ferg with Julie - a Greflie (Group Selfie!)
11. Terrible photo of Milford Sound
12. Zac, the panda god
13-14. The Dunedin gang
15-17. The All Blacks (NZ) play Australia (Oz)
18. Tom and Zac
19. Elli along the beach
20. Zac and the Jaeger Train
21. Tanya and her Fireball obsession
22. John (right), myself, and our young apprentice Aaron
23. Gettin feisty with a new top and a new 'do
24. Battle wounds (bruises on knees and feet)
25. Blogging scene
26. Shameless record of good hair day
27. Service Above Self
28. Queenstown Gardens
29. The Silver Fern is NZ's national symbol.. Ferns, ferns, ferns.. Everywhere
30. Sent to me as the newest Stray family photo.. :(
31. Sunny the Rocket!

Let's Have An Adventure.. In Queenstown

Queenstown, the Adventure Capital of the World. Queenstown, sister city of Aspen, Colorado. I have never been to Aspen, but my first impression walking around Queenstown was how much it reminded me of my time in another resort town - Vail, Colorado. Coincidentally, Vail also reminds me of Michelle who reminds me of NZ. What a nice full circle.

Queenstown handed me the highest of highs and lowest of lows. I grew quite lonely after my room full of Strays turned into a room full of void..


The scene is depressing. Old bags of food. Neat stacks of clothing replaced by a mess that covers the floor. A half drank bottle of beer. One bed and one chair.. The only two spots she moves between. Dark blinds block out the active world. Money being drained day by day with no point and no purpose. She's scared of the ultimate adventure, but isn't that why she's here? She plays tricks with herself. The only mind she's ever met that can shake her foundation and turn confidence into cowardice. She feels her spirits slipping, and she knows the spiral well. She's been climbing out for years.. Day after day after day. And she's tired. Tired of the constant battle. Tired of the constant war between ignorant smiles and all-knowing sighs. The middle ground is a tiny peak and her core isn't strong enough to find the right balance. She must keep practicing. Must keep training. But she is so, so tired.


If the scariest thing is being alone with myself, then the biggest challenge - the biggest adventure - is standing to face that fear. I could have moved into another room, using new faces as a distraction and a band-aid for my demons. I could have reached for my security blanket and gotten back on the bus. But that's not why I'm here. You can't change what you don't address.


We should always be looking to improve. Always be humble enough to address our weaknesses head-on and put consistent effort into making them stronger. Rather than convince ourselves "it's normal" and "everyone has trouble with this", why not be bold enough to make a change? Be bold enough to admit you're wrong, and you might find just how right it feels. And when embarking on an adventure of the psyche, there's no backdrop more beautiful than Queenstown.