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Aotearoa, by Mark Wigdahl.
Preliminary Anecdote: I take a shuttle bus to school, and I used to take the same one to work. About two years ago, it was really, terribly rainy. I was in a foul mood because I hated my job and it was raining and I couldn't get my phone to tell me when the next shuttle was going to show up. A guy offered me his umbrella and I said, "No, thank you," in that sarcastic-petulant teenager way, which was pathetic from a woman in her mid-20s. So the next day I apologized to British-Looking-Guy-with-Umbrella. And that's how David and I became bus friends.
David looked really British, but it turned out he was from New Zealand. He said he couldn't speak any Maori, and I have learned that I can't get used to typing it.
( Read more... )
Preliminary Anecdote: I take a shuttle bus to school, and I used to take the same one to work. About two years ago, it was really, terribly rainy. I was in a foul mood because I hated my job and it was raining and I couldn't get my phone to tell me when the next shuttle was going to show up. A guy offered me his umbrella and I said, "No, thank you," in that sarcastic-petulant teenager way, which was pathetic from a woman in her mid-20s. So the next day I apologized to British-Looking-Guy-with-Umbrella. And that's how David and I became bus friends.
David looked really British, but it turned out he was from New Zealand. He said he couldn't speak any Maori, and I have learned that I can't get used to typing it.
( Read more... )
