Across the World for 77 Days

I’ve been in New Zealand for 77 days, and as everybody knows, on the 77th day of an adventure, one stops to look back upon the previous 76 days. And so, in keeping with this time-honored tradition, I present to you a selection* of helpful hints based on my experience. Ladies and gentlemen, aka Mom, it is with deepest pride and greatest pleasure that I now bring you:

Things I Should Have Known, And Now You Do: The Longest Title

Don’t go on the monkey bars if you’re over 18. Seriously. Don’t do it. You’ll think you’re currently more physically capable than your 7-year-old self, but this is a myth. Don’t do it. THE MONKEY BARS WILL BREAK YOU.

If you want chips during outdoor movie night, go early. Everyone in town knows about that dirt-cheap chip shop. The town’s one street after all, I mean, c’mon.

You’re in a new country. In a new car. On a new (wrong) side of the road. The first thing you’ve got to do: find the local oldies station. Can I give a shout out to The Sound?

A garbage disposal is a very helpful thing to have. So long as you don’t use it to dispose of silverware.

Don’t go on the trampoline if you’re over 18. Seriously. Don’t do it. You’ll enjoy the freedom, the flying, the tricks, etc. For a moment. Until your joints remind you of your real age. Don’t do it. THE TRAMPOLINE WILL BREAK YOU.

Buy the cheapest, biggest jug of sunscreen you can find at Kmart. Will it be the most effective sunscreen? I don’t know, but you’ll certainly have an impractical amount of it with which to travel. Points to you!

Don’t trust Google Maps. Don’t trust distances. Don’t trust maps. The country is a bumpy labyrinth. You must bring a ball of string around if you want to survive. (Also make sure you’ve got good breaks and shocks on your car. Seriously. BUMPY.)

Just because it’s sunny, doesn’t mean it’s not raining.

Drive around as many mini roundabouts as you can find. They can be very therapeutic. Like walking one of those medieval meditation mazes. (And yes, I know they’re technically labyrinths and not mazes, but it was for the alliteration.)

When people ask where you’re from, it’s not that they don’t recognize an American accent, it’s just that they’re holding out hope you’re Canadian.

Eat vegetables.

Call cookies “biscuits.” That way you can say “I ate 6 biscuits today,” and it won’t sound ridiculous.

When no one’s in the house, it’s naptime.

Take the time to extricate your pens from the household pen jar. You’ll do your best to keep them separate, but all it takes is one pen left carelessly on the table after a scribbled note, and then you’ll find it in regular circulation. Also of note, notebooks on counters are fair game for coloring in.

Go to the beach all the time. It is awesome and beautiful and sometimes windy and don’t step on the blobby jellyfish.

Spend time alone.

Spend time with people.

Include opposing yet complementary examples when composing list-like non-lists.

Hang up photos of your important people, but not so prominently that you look at them often. Just close enough that they can watch you sleep from out of their shiny, inky paper.

*AUTHOR’S NOTE: It’s not a list. Let it be clear that it’s not a list. The internet is too full of goddamn lists. This is merely a bunch of things put one after another. It’s not a list.

EDITOR’S NOTE: Please make this more like Buzzfeed — we’ve been hearing the kids are really into that right now.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: You’re killing my art.