How to Prevent a Facebook Attack

1.  Do not leave the house with your computer on and in a common area such as the dining room table.


2.  Do not stay permanently logged into your Facebook account.


3.  Do not share a house with the Kiwi Flatmate.


If you do not follow the steps listed above, your Facebook account will be attacked.  Multiple times.  Here is the latest strike by the Kiwi Flatmate:

It is true that every New Zealander I've met is cool, smart, and funny; however, my sample size is 1.  

Signed,

American Roomie

PechaKucha

Last night, the Jamerican, the Kiwi Flatmate, the Murder Mystery Waitress, and I went to PechaKucha night.  If you haven't been to one of these events before, you should definitely go here and find out about one in your city.  Presenters show 20 images for 20 seconds each.  Their talk coordinates with the slides, which are on an automatic timer.  It makes for fast-paced, informative, and usually funny presentations.  

Seaholm Power Plant

The events are held in different locations each time, and last night we were at the Seaholm Power Plant, which was very eerie and we kinda felt like we were in Batman.  The speakers were two artists, two musicians, a trailer park food blogger, a photographer, a furniture designer, a burlesque dancer, and a group of four guys that we weren't really sure what they were.  


Southpaw Jones, a local musician, completely stole the show with the short, funny songs he made up to go with 20 random slides the organizers had picked out for him ahead of time.  This morning I've been listening to his music online.  I was hoping for songs as playful and hilarious as what I heard last night and was not disappointed.

But the most interesting fact I picked up last night was from artist Bieli Liu.  Not only was her art awesome, but she also told us about the Chinese legend of the red string of fate.  According to this, the gods tie an invisible red thread around the ankles of two people who are soul mates.  I read more about the legend on wikipedia, and I really dig it.  I also realized that these guys must be soul mates:

Signed,
American Roomie

Do Jamaicans eat...

Yesterday I posted about how the Jamerican told us that people don't eat pizza in Jamaica.  I found that hard to believe, so I googled, "Do Jamaicans eat pizza?"  The third result from the search was Answers.com - Do Jamaicans eat cats?  This surprised not only me but the Kiwi Flatmate and the Jamerican.  Who would think to ask whether or not Jamaicans eat cats?  Then the first result on the second page was do Jamaicans eat hamsters?  Craziness!


The Kiwi Flatmate tried to google the same thing, and after she had typed, "Do Jamaicans eat...", Google autocomplete gave this:

We started playing around with the autocomplete, and this is what we got for New Zealanders:

And for Americans:

So from this, we can conclude that internet users around the world often wonder whether Jamaicans eat cats, whether New Zealanders eat Christmas, and whether Americans eat too much.  Only the last one is not surprising.

Signed,

American Roomie

Canned Spaghetti Pie and a Country Without Pizza

We eat a lot of pizza at The Red Door.  Last week, there were 2 pizzas delivered here.  Then we got a notification from our property managers that they have secured a deal with a local pizza company giving us 25% off any order on Mondays.  Enter pizza number 3.  

While waiting for the delivery, the Kiwi Flatmate told the Jamerican and I about how growing up her mum would make pizza by baking dough covered with canned spaghetti and mozzarella cheese.  I suggested that we make it one night.  That was quickly vetoed.  The Kiwi Flatmate said it wasn't very delicious.  I guess it's just one of those things that you ate when you were little but that you kind of want to forget.  Like bites of straight butter.  Or raw hot dogs.  (My mom denies it to this day, but when my sister and I were little, if we asked for a snack before dinner, she'd sometimes give us a raw hot dog.)


I asked the Jamerican what kind of pizza she ate growing up, and she said they don't eat pizza in Jamaica.  I didn't believe her at first.  Maybe this was her version of a drop bear, but evidently, it's just not a thing there.  It's hard for me to imagine a life without pizza.  What would you eat at slumber parties?  How would you learn about fractions?!


A quick internet search turned up the site www.lifewithoutpizza.com.  I immediately wondered if it was about Jamaica.  Nope.  It's a blog about a guy who gave up pizza for lent.  Each post describes how much he would like to eat pizza.  Now that Easter has arrived, he can snarf his favorite food again.  It's a good thing that guy doesn't live in Jamaica.  


Signed,
American Roomie

Kiwi-Lime Pie Challenge Accepted

The Kiwi Flatmate has accepted my challenge to make a Kiwi-Lime Pie without a recipe.  She will attempt this as soon as the spring semester has finished. 

Here are the rules:

1.  She will create the pie without consulting a recipe or the internet.

2.  She has the option of using a pre-made crust.

3.  The Jamerican and I will judge the pie based on overall appearance, taste, overall impression, and level of creativity.  

I'm a little nervous to see what she comes up with, but I think it's got to be better than this:

Pork, egg, and bacon pie...heart attack city!

A pork, egg, and bacon pie?  That sounds like a pig's nightmare!


Signed,
American Roomie

Jandals

If the Kiwi Flatmate comes downstairs, takes one look at you, and says, "Wooooaaah, nice jandals!" what does she mean?  


Don't Google it!  


Do you have a guess?  Don't think too hard.  Go with your first answer.


New Zealanders, feel free to respond too.  Today you're the teacher's pet!  


[Update:  When the Kiwi Flatmate read this post, she laughed and said, "You didn't feel the need to tell everybody how when you first heard the word you mistook it for genitals."  Ha ha, I had totally forgotten about that.  Selective memory.]

Recipe Smecipe

Today I made a Rustic Strawberry Tart.  As I prepared it, I thought about how there are two kinds of people in the world:  the kind who use recipes to bake and the kind who don't.


The Kiwi Flatmate is a member of the latter category.  When she bakes, she is particularly proud of the fact that she does not use a recipe.  She's much more daring than I am.  My strict adherence to recipes started several years ago after I tried to invent "Thanksgiving in a Skillet."  Ground turkey blended with potatoes, cranberry sauce, and green beans not only looks pink and gross, but doesn't taste good either.  Since that incident, going crazy in the kitchen for me means adding pecans when they aren't called for.  Wait.  Instead of going crazy, would that be going nuts?


The Jamerican shares my view.  "I don't think I've ever baked something without using a recipe," she said.  "I sometimes stray from the recipe, but I don't want to go in trying to make a cake and end up with a pie."


So is the Kiwi Flatmate any good at baking, you might wonder?  This is an official challenge to her.  One kiwi-lime pie please.  No recipes.  Just you, the ingredients, and the kitchen.  Go.

Itchin' to Scratch

Ever had an itch you just can't help scratching?  Earlier this evening, the Jamerican came home with ant bites on her ankle that would not stop itching.  I suggested taking an Advil pill and rubbing it on the bite to alleviate the itch.  The Jamerican was skeptical that this would work, and rightly so since that wouldn't have.  I was thinking of a home remedy I had read involving aspirin.  


Instead, the Jamerican turned to the Kiwi Flatmate for help since she studies public health.  The Kiwi Flatmate came to the rescue suggesting that the she tickle herself somewhere between the bite and her head.  The tickling, the Kiwi Flatmate explained, would confuse the nervous system by interrupting the signal of the itch being sent to the brain.  The Jamerican tickled the upper part of her leg.  It didn't work.  Then she tickled right above the ant bite.  It worked!  Not only did she no longer itch, but she was smiling from the tickling!  


I love this anti-itch, mood enhancing cure!  I almost can't wait to get a bite and try it myself.  Scratch that.  I can wait.  Wait!  Don't scratch that...Tickle it!

The Jamerican tickling her foot.

Buying Books: The Untold Story...Now told

Kiwifruit is green and so is the Kiwi Flatmate.

A couple of weeks ago, I told the Kiwi Flatmate and the Jamerican that I was going to purchase a book to read.  I was dying to get my hands on American Idol: The Untold Story.  Just as I was about to click "Place Your Order" on Amazon, they both went nuts!  "Why purchase the book?"  "Why not check it out from the library or get it in a book swap?"  "Think of what I was doing to the environment!"  "Killing extra trees for no reason!"  

Plus, I think they might have truly believed that because the book was about a reality television show it would actually do more harm to the environment.  "That's nothing but rubbish," the Kiwi Flatmate cried.  "Any book that has 'The Untold Story' as its subtitle has to be rubbish."  A quick Amazon search seemed to support her theory.  I won't be reading The Untold Story of Milk, Revised and Updated - The History, Politics and Science of Nature's Perfect Food:  Raw Milk from Pasture-Fed Cows anytime soon.  

Nevertheless, I'd had my eye on the American Idol book for a while and really wanted to read it.  I was skeptical that the university library, though extensive, would carry the book (it didn't), and I didn't think it was the kind of reading that is typical of book swap websites (it wasn't).  In the end, I settled for getting a used copy from Amazon.  

It arrived in great condition last Thursday.  This picture is slightly yellow, which is what you'd expect with the weird indoor lighting.  Still, I would have expected that used books would be green.

Signed,

American Roomie

"It's been such a pretty day."

I spent the weekend visiting my sister and BIL.  On Saturday we down to the coast and visited the Texas State Aquarium, which was surprisingly awesome.  We saw all sorts of crazy fish, petted sting rays, met a giant female turtle named Einstein, saw a dolphin show, and realized that the price of Dippin' Dots has only increased 50 cents in the last 7 years.


The aquarium was right on the coast, the sun was out, and it was neither too hot nor too cold.  I loved seeing the waves lap up on the shore and feeling the wind whip through my hair as we walked around outside.  In the evening, after we'd returned home and had dinner, we all stepped outside to enjoy the sunset.  That's when I thought, "It's been such a pretty day."

View of the sunset from my sister and brother-in-law's front porch.

One of the American phrases that the Kiwi Flatmate finds peculiar but charming is, "It's a pretty day."  To her a day is nice or beautiful, but never pretty.  That's pretty funny to me.  I too refer to days as nice or beautiful on occasion, but it depends on the level of prettiness.  The Kiwi Flatmate and I decided that:
1.  A day that is somewhat pretty is a nice day.
2.  A day that is pretty, but not extraordinary is a pretty day.
3.  A day has to be pretty pretty in order for it to be a beautiful day.


Signed,
American Roomie

New Zealand -> American Dictionary: to be puffed

My favorite New Zealand word so far is "puffed."

To be puffed = to be winded, out of breath

Puffed is just a fun word to say.  Puffed corn, puffed rice, puffed pastries.

Things that are puffed look funny.  Take the puffer fish for example.

Or my puffed cheeks.

Or Puff Daddy...

If you read this entire post without taking a breath, by the end, you will understand the New Zealand meaning of puffed.  

Signed,

American Roomie

Pimentos

I had a jar of green olives out yesterday when the Kiwi Flatmate came through the kitchen and gasped, "What's that?!"  I thought, no way she doesn't know what olives are.  She haaaaas to know what olives are.  Of course she knew what olives were, but she wanted to know what the red part was inside it.

"The pimento," I said.

"The what?"

"The pimento."

"What's that?"

She stumped me.  What is a pimento?  I'd never thought about it before.  I asked the Jamerican.

"It's the little red thing inside the olive," she said.  

"Yeah, but what is it?"

"I don't know?  Is it a pepper?  Pimento sounds like the Spanish word for pepper."

The Jamerican's boyfriend, the Long Island Guy, came into the room, and we asked him what a pimento was.

"It's cheese," he said.

"It's not cheese!"

"Yeah, it is.  It's cheese.  Pimento cheese."

"It doesn't even taste like cheese!"

I didn't know what exactly what a pimento was, but I was pretty sure that it wasn't cheese.  I know there's pimento cheese, but I think that's cheese with pimentos in it.  I got out my jar of green olives, so that the Long Island Guy could taste it and confirm he thought it tasted like cheese.

The Long Island Guy trying a green olive to see if the pimento tastes like cheese.

After he had finished chewing, I asked if he thought it tasted like cheese.  "I don't know," he said.  "It took so long for you to take the pictures that it disintegrated in my mouth."

A quick google search confirmed that pimentos are indeed peppers as the Jamerican guessed.  The Kiwi Flatmate didn't know if pimentos come in olives in New Zealand or not because she doesn't eat many olives.  Any New Zealanders out there know if there are pimentos in your green olives?

Signed,

American Roomie

No bites with Marmite

On Saturday, I went to hike in the Greenbelt for the first time.  Before I left, I told the Kiwi Flatmate that I liked the outdoors, but that I don't like bugs.  She suggested that I eat some Marmite before I go.  

The Kiwi Flatmate had Marmite sent to her from New Zealand.

Marmite is a savory spread that New Zealanders and much of the former British empire eat on toast.  Since it has such a strong smell, I thought she meant that rubbing it on me would create an aura that no bugs (and nobody, for that matter) would want to get near.  In fact, I even thought of a cartoon character who must have used Marmite:

Who knew Pig Pen's smell came from Marmite?

Then the Kiwi Flatmate corrected me.  "You don't rub it on your body!  You eat it, and since it has vitamin B in it, it makes your skin give off something the bugs don't like."  Hmmm...I don't know if I'd rather eat Marmite or get bitten by bugs.  I think I'd opt for the latter.

Signed,

American Roomie

Jamerican Accents

We talk a lot about accents at The Red Door.  Mostly because we have very different accents.  As you might have guessed, the Kiwi Flatmate speaks with a distinct New Zealand accent.  The Jamerican and I both talk Amerrrican (i.e. we like those R's).  The Jamerican studies speech pathology and can mimic most accents pretty well.  Her Scottish accent is dead on.  But the curious thing is, she will not (or cannot?) do a Jamaican accent.  Whenever she tries, she freezes up and then bursts into laughter.  

The Jamerican lived in Jamaica until she was 8, so the Kiwi Flatmate and I keep thinking we can get something good out of her.  The best we've gotten so far is for her to share with us some Jamaican proverbs such as, "Wanti wanti cyan getti getti.  Getti getti nuh wanti wanti."  Also, she showed us this video and translated it for us.

Stay tuned because soon we will be having an The Contest of the acCentury in which we all try to do each others accents.  

Signed,

American Roomie

Pen Attack

Never invade a Kiwi's space.  Seriously.  Friday morning, I was laying on the Kiwi Flatmate's bed reading about the latest American Idol elimination (Pia? Really?), when I guess I did something that struck a nerve with the Kiwi Flatmate.  She whipped out a pen out of nowhere and did this to my arm...

My arm after the Kiwi Flatmate's pen attack

I didn't have any idea what I had done to provoke the Kiwi Flatmate, and I wondered if she would attack with her pen again.  I thought about retaliating.  After all, I had brought a sword with me to her room, so I was ready for a duel.  But alas, then I remembered that the pen is mightier than the sword.

Signed,

American Roomie

New Zealand Movies? They do exist.

Last Saturday night, I went out with the Kiwi Flatmate for her first taste of Texas barbecue.  We met some friends and the conversation turned to movies.  From the opposite end of the table, I asked the Kiwi Flatmate, "Do they have movies in New Zealand?"

The table got quiet, as I'm sure everyone was thinking, "Duh, of course they have movies in New Zealand!"  But what I meant was, is there a strong New Zealand film industry?  So I clarified that.

"Yeah, there's the entire Lord of the Rings Trilogy," my boyfriend, the 84% Texan, joked.

After the commotion over my poorly worded question died down, the Kiwi Flatmate informed us that yes, they do make lots of movies in New Zealand.  She said that one of the more famous ones is Once Were Warriors which, due to themes of domestic violence and the main character's wardrobe, popularized the use of the term "wifebeater" to refer to a sleeveless men's undershirt.

Upon further research, I found that in addition to Lord of the Rings, other American films such as The Chronicles of Narnia, Bridge to Terabithia, and The Water Horse: Legend of the Deep were all filmed in New Zealand.  What's with all of these fantasy flicks being shot there? Does this mean New Zealand = Fantasy Land?  Maybe Parker Brothers was right after all and New Zealand doesn't really exist?

Signed,

American Roomie

mAptitude Test

The Kiwi Flatmate told me that there's a rumor in New Zealand that most Americans can't locate New Zealand on a map.  What?!  This is a huge problem!  What do I think of this?  I personally believe that U.S. Americans are unable to do so because, uh, some...people out there in our nation don't have maps and, uh, I believe that our, uh, education like such as in South Africa and...wait...that was someone else's response.  In all seriousness though, I think I've identified the root of the problem:  Risk.  Let me explain.

The Kiwi Flatmate, the Jamerican, and I host a bi-monthly game of Risk at The Red Door.  Here is a picture of the board that comes with our 1993 version of the game:

Notice anything funny?

Look a little closer.

That's right!  There's no New Zealand!  No wonder Americans can't find it!  Any kid who grew up playing Risk wouldn't even know to look for it.  Of course, they'll also think there are only 4 countries in South America, but I digress.  It looks like the quest for world domination started with a game designer nuking New Zealand.

Signed,

American Roomie

Drop Bears vs. Snipe Hunting

Now that the Kiwi Flatmate has warned me that she might act strange in order to trick me into believing silly things about her motherland, I'll have to be more careful with what I post here.  In fact, I'll use Flight of the Conchords to help me verify any facts about New Zealand. 

With that said, I won't be fooled into believing in Drop Bears, which evidently are  giant, vicious koala-like animals that fall on you and eat you alive if you go camping in Australia.  

The Drop Bear attacks its prey from above.

I think I'll get the upper hand by taking the Kiwi Flatmate snipe hunting!

Signed,

American Roomie

The Kiwi Flatmate Speaks

So American Roomie started a blog in my hono(u)r. That's kind of cool. Or, American Roomie finds my habits so odd she thinks the internet will find them amusing. That's less cool. Or maybe not.


When American Roomie showed me this blog, I was a little concerned that I might misrepresent my country. Now, I'm tempted to behave strangely to take advantage of how little American Roomie knows about New Zealand (The Jamerican would probably never fall for it). If only there was a NZ equivalent of a Drop Bear.


Signed,
Kiwi Flatmate

American -> New Zealand Dictionary: to pick up

Whenever my room gets to be a mess, I usually spend a few days complaining about it before I get around to cleaning, saying something like, "Jeez, I should really pick up my room today."


The Kiwi Flatmate finds this particularly amusing because I cannot "pick up" my room in the literal sense.  Instead, she says that I should opt to "tidy up" my room.  


American English -> New Zealand English
to pick up = to tidy up


Signed,
American Roomie

Nachos

On Friday evening, I came into the kitchen to find the Kiwi Flatmate making nachos.  To my surprise, her plate was filled with bright orange Nacho Cheese Doritos!  She had covered them with beans and cheese.  She asked me what I thought was strange, and I told her I was surprised by the chips she was using.  She said, "What, should I have chosen Ranch?  What flavor would you use?"  I said that I would have used tortilla chips.  Then we consulted the Jamerican to see if she thought Nacho Cheese Dorito Nachos were normal to her.  Nope.  We all sampled the dish.  It wasn't bad, but it was definitely different to have the cheesy powder on the chips.  The Jamerican liked it.  


While tortilla chips (or as the Kiwi Flatmate called them "unflavored corn chips") are easy to find in the land where Tex-Mex cuisine rules, evidently they aren't as popular in New Zealand, so they often make do with other kinds of chips.  


What is the weirdest thing you've had on your nachos?


Signed,
American Roomie

The License Plate Game

At a red light on the way home tonight from a late night dessert run, the Kiwi Flatmate laughed and pointed at the license plate of the car in front of us.  

"One of the things I love about America," she said, "is seeing license plates from other states."  

"Do you know the license plate game?" I asked with a sly grin.  

"No," she replied.

"You go like this," I said punching her shoulder with each letter.  "Missouri X!  A, B, C, D, E, F, G, H, I, J, K, L, M, N, O, P, Q, R, S, T, U, V, W, X!"

How lucky was I to get to demonstrate with X?!

While they don't play The License Plate Game in New Zealand, they do play a version of the Slug Bug Game called Punch Buggy.  We determined that the rules are the same with just a different name.


Signed,
American Roomie


[UPDATE:  The Jamerican read this post and said, "Slug Bug, what's that?"  I explained it to her, and she said, "We call it Punch Buggy.  It looks like you're the weird one in the house."]