Hi again. I've missed you!

"The Redwoods"in Rotorua

It has been so long since I last posted, that it took me a minute to remember which email and password I used for this blogger account. Once I logged in, blogger has COMPLETELY changed its format and look, so I've been clumsily bumping around my account. I found my last post -- a draft -- from about six months ago detailing a lot of the shit that went down before we left the East Coast. I thought about posting it, but can't be bothered. I just wish so much hadn't happend since then! Luckily, most of it is good.

Let's number list it:

1) Beau got a job(!!!) at a high school in Rotorua.  And so, we moved there at the beginning of 2012.

Rotorua is considered a "tourist town" in the center of the north island of New Zealand. It's tourist industry is based mostly on Maori culture (shows, dinners, tours), but also features a lot of nature-related stuff, which NZ does...well, everywhere.If people fly into Auckland, they usually bus it up here for at least a day.

2) *I* got a job - a great job - at the local community college.

It's the head manager position in the administration of a really interesting "school" (in the U.S, we'd call it a 'college' as in "The College of Nursing" or "The College of Arts & Sciences"). It's completely crazy and "full-on," but I love it. I really do. I love the people, I love the job, and even though a large chunk of it revolves around two things I've previously not been crazy/experienced at (budgeting/marketing) AND I take work home almost every night, I kinda don't care. It suits me. And I AM THANKFUL FOR IT. Really thankful.


3) There's money there if we NEED something (not necessarily if we WANT something).

This is the FIRST TIME in the six years+ that Beau and I have been together that both us, at the same time, have been GAINFULLY employed in real jobs with some real stability and consistent, respectable paychecks. No temp agencies, no psycho bosses, no low-pay--high instability situations. Again, can't articulate properly how grateful I am about this. Are we rich? Nooooo. And it took us SEVERAL months to climb out of the ditch we were in. But now, I can't believe this....don't want to jinx it...but we're doing OKAY.

It's funny, now that we DO have two paychecks coming in every two weeks, I find that what I've been denying forever is really true. I'm crap at managing money, just like most people who grow up poor are. We burn through it. I'm not irresponsible -- we always pay all our bills, have food, manage a little "fun," and deal with any minor emergencies that come along, but at the end of the month, we still don't seem to really have anything left. Beau has always left all money matters to me, but he still shakes his head and mutters under his breath at the end of each pay period. And my reaction is always a mixture of guilt and indignation. I don't buy a lot of shit! We don't gamble or go on trips or "blow it." If I do buy something, I use it, to death (I'm not gentle with stuff and if I like it, I'll use it until it falls apart).

Yeah, that's my justification. And eating out is still one of my favorite things to do in the universe.

But yeah, there's no nest egg at the end of it.

4) JiffyPop hit her first birthday, and about 1-2 months later, started daycare.

Yeah, giving your child over to daycare sucks the big donkey dong. You feel like a complete dick. Luckily, we have a daughter who thinks socializing with the rest of the world is awesome, and most of the time we get a quick "bye bye" wave over her shoulder as she runs off to see the bunny rabbit or play with her boyfriend, Daniel. (Everytime I mention "Daniel," Beau's face darkens, tee hee). It's expensive as HELL (just over $200 a week. A. WEEK.), but I did get to spend her entire first year with her at home, which would have been completely impossible in the U.S. (Thank you, New Zealand). And when she hits three years old, you get 20 hours/week free.

 5) We live in a fairly nice house in a really nice neighborhood that is a 15 minute walk to my job!

Okay, like most NZ homes, it lacks any kind of recognizable insulation and when it dips below 40 degrees outside, you freeze your ass off inside unless you burn a small pine tree in the fireplace or invest a good part of your paycheck in the gas heaters. But I like it, a lot. Beau isn't much for it, but he does like the location and safe neighborhood.

6) There are grocery stores and shopping centres (no real malls) and many many places to eat and do fun stuff at !

This has been one of the best parts for me. Having a grocery store just minutes away instead of an hour and a half on a twisty, tread-flattening road. Being able to go to restaurants (or just get "takeaways" when two working parents are too exhausted to cook). Having lots of fun places to do stuff. Swim lessons at the aquatic centre, buying an unlimited "locals" card for the bird park (with added, random water ride), having a large beautiful lake with ducks and swans and paddleboats to ride. And a zorb for thos who enjoy humiliating themselves in public.

All this convenience is bliss.

So, am I happy?

Yes, I am. You thought I was going to say No, didn't you? You thought I'd have some REASON to hate all this awesomeness. I don't. It's been over six months now, and I'm happy and grateful and liking Rotorua more than I thought I would, truly. It's a pretty small city, and I'm a mid-big city gal, but I'm really loving it. AND, it's just 2 1/2 hours from Auckland if the big city itch gets too great.

Doesn't mean there isn't one snag...

Beau. I've talked before about his struggles with teaching in NZ. They've really never ended. He's tried, OH MY GOD, he has tried and tried to get his head around the educational system and work within it. He's struggled with students (and worst of all, PARENTS), who don't give a shit about education or their futures. He's been demoralized as he watches performing arts take all precedence, and Science/Biology become meaningless in the majority of a community's eyes. He's been taunted, cursed at and ignored.

The beautiful Rotorua Museum

I'd like to say he's taken it all like the awesome Gary Cooper that he is. I'll tell you this, he's done a helluva lot better than I ever could. I would have abandoned teaching years ago. I would have taken half the pay. I did teach, and I LOVED it, but I know what one bad class does to your soul. It sucks it like a vampire. It makes you feel small and sad and incompetent. It makes going to work something to fear and dread. And he's had classes and classes that have convinced him that the awesome teacher he thought he was in the States, was really just lucky to teach at a good school with good students. (Not true, he really is awesome, he's just been in shocking situations).

But you know what? NZ pays their teachers WELL. And Beau doesn't want to give that up. For the most part, we lived off his income for several years (and my piddly work here and there when I wasn't being crappy at being pregnant). And he keeps thinking he can DO this, he can GET it, he can MASTER it. And once he does, it'll all be okay.

But in the meantime, the result is that he has turned on New Zealand and its culture. He sees it as responsible for his unhappiness. He wants to go back to the States, though we'd both be unemployed, homeless, with no prospects, and promptly set upon by student loan henchmen. But he KNOWS that we really can't. That there's really no hope there. This is a typical Beau thing -- canonize the previous location, demonize the present. Now, the United States is the land of milk and honey. Everything was beautiful there. People were good and smart and students were well-behaved and ambitious. Drinking and child abuse aren't a problem and things are affordable. The food tastes better. People don't drive like assholes. It's just nicer.

Sometimes this comes out as wistful recollection. But at other times it comes out as dark, black vitriol. So much so that I find myself recoiling in disgust. I've lived in enough foreign countries to hear those typical ex-pat lines, "People here are so fucking stupid because....."

Oh, and his daughter might grow up to be one of them.


I have tried to be more sympathetic, because, sure there are some sucky things about New Zealand, but I don't want to feed the beast. I try to play devil's advocate, "There are a lot of fuckwit, entitled kids in the U.S. too..."  He listened to that for awhile, but now it just irritates him. I've suggested he come to the local community college and re-train to be something else, ANYTHING else (I'd gladly take the cut in pay if he could find something he'd love to do), but he doesn't want to abandon teaching (and the pay).

He feels trapped, I feel trapped. We're finally making it. If we move back to the States it'll be back at square one (not to mention I'd probably jump off a building long before then). You probably know by now how much I LOATHE the thought of moving anymore. Loathe is not a strong enough word. Just the thought of looking for work...again...with my ever-expanding resume where I never stay anywhere for more than a couple years...seriously, it makes me want to cry bitter tears.

This is sounding really dramatic and tragic, when I was trying to express all my thankfulness and glee. Oops. Just a tough, tough situation. My heart really goes out to him. We've tried the "move to a new state/country and NOW we're going to be happy" thing before. It just doesn't work. And you end up spending all that time and money trying to get back to where you were before you moved (which wasn't so impressive to begin with).

I want this place to work for him. I want work to work for him. And I feel bad that I'm so totally satisfied with everything else, when he's not. Hunh.