Why I can't be on reality TV

And now for an analogy: International Orientation:Janet:Quartering Machine:Medieval Prisoner. Truly, horrifying. I felt like a Duke froshie in purgatorious loop, and this time around it was longer, more redundant, and somehow still flooded with unattractive Americans. I balk at the idea of worthwhile academics. If I wanted that, I'd stay at Duke and write more environmental policy memos. After popping up at 6:30 AM (still haven't quite adjusted), I shoved some oatmeal and fruit down and HIKED UP A BLOODY MOUNTAIN to get to main campus. No joke- fifteen minutes up a continuous flight of stairs and hills and winding uphill dirt paths (because, you see, in New Zealand people hike to the bathroom). Anyhow, skip the drudgery and cut to the truly miraculous: I somehow convinced myself to join the orientation scavenger hunt "V Race". Good excercise, no? Why in fact, it was a twilight zone of nerd-dom, the Amazing Race for the awkward (thus I fit in), and profoundly exhausting. I tugged my lowriders up and around and across the entire city (in the same ballet flats recorded yesterday- tough little things, Jeffrey Campbell!) After offending local Kiwis with my yelping American accent, waving sheets of riddles in their face ("Excuse me- where is the strongest, unwatered plant between the triangle of fast food joints, which reveals a secret road unmarked?!"), I was quite ready to sidle away from the assigned team and lounge by the harbor with a sandwich. But enter _______ [I forget name], a genuine marvel of a crazy. ________ was a hardcore treasure hunt viper, ripping through the crowds and buses in pursuit of- what? I have no idea. In truth, I don't even know where she materialized from (not an undergraduate orientation byproduct), and seemed to bop out of some alternate universe of perpetual treasure hunter psychopaths. Anyhow, mildly entertaining day but no LOTR trip. Sheep sightings: 0. Crazy treasure hunter: 1