I Gotta Be Me!

I'm writing this post not because I have some story to tell, but just because I haven't written in awhile. I hate abandoned blogs, and I don't want mine to be that way. It's not because I don't have time to write anymore (okay, yeah, I have a lot less free time than I did before, but there's always a way to MAKE time), and it's not because I don't have the will, either. I think it has to do with the fact that a) Facebook is such an enormous outlet for what my (and JiffyPop's) life is that it almost seems redundant to come on here, and b) I have become a videotape monster, which has become it's own blog itself.

I managed to buy this super cheap video camera. It's not great quality, obviously, but it takes decent footage (if you're in bright light and hold still). Since JiffyPop was very small, I started videotaping mostly her, but also our life in New Zealand. The land around our house, the places we visit, the dog, the cats, the chooks (now dead), etc. At first it was just short little clips of JiffyPop progressing on that linear map of milestones. I strung all the little clips together into one large movie and sent it off to the grandparents. No one wants to receive 800 photographs anymore, and the internet has made letter writing almost obsolete (sadly). But these grandparents don't have quite the online savvy as us and so telling them "Just go see the new photos of JiffyPop on Facebook" doesn't really cut it (though to be fare to Beau's mother, she does...try).

As time went on, my 30-second clips of Jiffy Pop wobbling around during "Tummy Time" became longer clips of me lifting the camera to the gorgeous scenery around us, and me at first shyly making a comment here and there, to what it is now -- my big mouth going on and on about what's going on in my life, my partner's life, my baby's life and all our lives combined. It's not QUITE a video diary (the tendency for a couple of the grandmas to become highly critical is something I always seek to avoid for personal annoyance sake), but at least a catalogue of how our lives are going. I kind of like it. And it's nice to have one small cd case to chronicle JiffyPop's life instead of 10 photo albums stuffed in a corner.

There's also what I mentioned in a previous blog. Since JiffyPop's birth, I've developed the irrational fear that I will die and leave her, and though that doesn't plague me every day, it does come upon me here and there (usually from something on TV or a book) and it chills me to my core. In some way, these videos feel like I could leave here something of me, in case I should go. Beau hates when I talk so morbidly, but it's true. (Not to mention he was the one who brought up talk again last night of who the hell could we make JiffyPop's godparent(s) in case we die and how we should stipulate the use of our life insurance payout).

Hence, long explanation of why I don't really blog anymore. I can't stand to hear myself go on and on anymore, even if it is in written form. It's true I tend to be a bit more open here, which I avoid on video, but still. Telling the same story over and over sucks.

ANYWAY, I will make a conscious effort to be here more, for my own sake. It's not just about the blog, it's about getting back a bit more ME after becoming MOM. I've always been highly sensitive (and honestly, a bit critical) of the fact that many of my friends seem to have disappeared once they became mothers, and it's something I totally understand now, but still want to avoid. I want to be "J, who has a daughter," not "J the Mother," even if I think JiffyPop is the most amazing creation EVER.

So, I started taking yoga again, went to an amazing art seminar (I hadn't painted in AGES), and at least started thinking about my 85% completed book again. I had shoved my book aside after JiffyPop's birth, and have been feeling guilty and wistful about it since. I have just pulled it out of its hiding place, dusted it off, went through it and made careful piles, and then left it sitting there on the coffee table for the next seven days. Oh well, that's some progress made.

And for 3 days we are back in Hamilton while Beau does some teaching training -- the city of JiffyPop's birth. It's been 9 months and I have just as warm and loving feelings toward the place as I did back then. Gosh, I'd love to live here, though already it sounds like getting a job here is tough. Pff, that's how it is everywhere, especially when you're a "foreigner." Gotta keep trying though. It's been 3 years in the bush and we're both just about at the end of our tether. Anyway, in the meantime, I've done a shameful amount of shopping (and frankly, loved every minute), had some okay food, and as soon as JiffyPop wakes up from this nap, I plan on taking her over to the NICU (baby intensive care) where she was born to say thanks and show them how great she's doing. I'm a little nervous about it since they always had super strict rules there (though they were never crystal clear with you what they were, just when you violated them), and I am hoping it's a friendly, instead of intensely awkward visit. We'll see. If not, there's always a nice cafe to sit and eat away my social embarrassment.

Personal Update - November 2009

As all 2 of you who read my blog know, Beau and I separated at the beginning of June, so about six months ago. We never really stopped talking, and neither one of us were happy with the way things turned out. I won't go into all the gory details, and I doubt much people would care. But just to make sure the progression of this blog make some sense, things are coming back together....slowly...which includes us.

We're in therapy, which is intense and interesting and sometimes hard as hell (what happened to the fun kind of therapy where you get to blab your guts out and told how unfair the world was to you?). The therapist is sympathetic and thorough, yet she doesn't let us get away with anything, which I think is great. I think she's pretty awesome, and besides, how many of them allow you to bring your dog so it can have a playdate with the therapist's dog? It's not always easy to find out some of the stuff you do is really fucked up and needs to change, and that goes for BOTH Beau and I, but I'm pretty proud how both of us are facing it and making a sincere effort.

So, we talk every night on Skype, and nearly every weekend one of us drives to see the other (5 hour journey) or we meet halfway in between where the therapist is and spend the day there. Beau's going to be working at his school in the bush for quite some time yet, and my current job ends either at the end of December or January. There are a few options we're discussing like my moving back to the bush (and Beau...and Tonks and Fern), my staying here and getting a permanent job, or my moving to Tauranga, the city halfway between us, and getting a job there (since we'd like to actually live there permanently someday - the bush is not a long-term option), etc. There are LOTS of variables influencing our decisions, some which we can't force, which makes me crazy, because I hate not knowing the projection of my life, at least in the short-term. And the pro's and con's seem to be evened out no matter what we do. Argh!

In other news, it looks like our permanent residency status will come through in a matter of days or weeks (depending on fast they cash our "migrant levy" check). That's fantastic news for a number of reasons, one big one being that someone will actually be interested in hiring me for a real job instead of trolling for low-paying temp jobs. It also means cheaper and better health care, MUCH cheaper schooling (if I want to go back for teaching), the ability to buy a car/home/expensive furniture or appliances if need be, and a general sense of peace knowing you don't have to apply and pay for work permits every few months. I'm really excited about that. I want to do something big and celebratory for it. In New Zealand, that only means getting completely shit-faced drunk. I don't mind that part, but I need some food and entertainment thrown in too.

:)

Yes, We Can.

Originally, I had written a good-sized blog about my philosophy behind why I moved from supporting Hillary Clinton to Barack Obama. But now, after all the dust has settled, it seems a bit late for all that. Basically, it was a slow process that built over time, starting from when Beau and I stood out in the cold for an hour or two to see Obama, to the time, a month later, when I saw Bill Clinton speak (notice Clinton making seductive eye contact with me). Obama was jazzed, Clinton was mad. Obama was fun, but not as awe-inspiring as I thought he'd be. Clinton was a lot more angry and tired-looking than I expected, though he did talk to the crowd very intelligently and gave lots of good, specific facts.

I sway back and forth between worrying that I am being swept up in Obama Idealism, to then getting angry at myself for being such a harsh cynic, and being afraid of feeling hopeful and excited about politics again. And it was pretty neat to see a state like Montana, which normally is basically ignored by candidates (and they do have a valid reason for it), get a little love.

In the end, in early June, I cast my vote for Obama, though I feel a twinge of sadness for Hillary, too. It's been awhile since I had two really good choices for president, and wasn't voting more against Bush than for a fellow Democrat.

I am also going to post again the lovely Will.i.am video which recites Obama's speech from New Hampshire, after he lost to Hillary Clinton there. Enjoy.

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It was a creed written into the founding documents
That declared the destiny of a nation

Yes, we can

It was whispered by slaves and abolitionists
As they blazed a trail toward freedom

Yes, we can. Yes, we can.

It was sung by immigrants as they struck out from distant shores
Pioneers who pushed westward against an unforgiving wilderness

Yes, we can.

It was the call of workers who organized
Women who reached for the ballot
A President who chose the moon as our new frontier
And a King who took us to the mountain top
And pointed the way to the Promised Land

Yes, we can to justice and equality. Yes, we can.

Yes, we can to opportunity and prosperity.

Yes, we can heal this nation.
Yes, we can repair this world.
Yes, we can.

We know the battle ahead will be long
But always remember that no matter what obstacles stand in our way
Nothing in the way of the power of millions of voices
Calling for change

We want change, we want change

We have been told we cannot do this
By a chorus of cynics
And they will only grow louder and more dissonant
We have been asked to pause for a reality check
We have been warned against offering the people of this nation
False hope

But in the unlikely story that is America
There has never been anything false about Hope.

The hopes of the little girl who goes to crumbling school in Dillon
Are the same as the dreams of the boy who learns on the streets of L.A.
We will remember that there is something happening in America
That we are not as divided as our politics suggest
That we are one people
That we are one nation

And together, we will begin the next great chapter
in the American story
With three words that will ring from coast to coast
From sea to shining sea

Yes, we can
Yes, we can
Yes, we can

Maybe, Probably Not

So, this past Wednesday was the day the last candidate was going to interview for that university job I've been dying dying DYING for. Although I'm glad I was the first one interviewed, it's tough having to wait 'til everyone's done!

Now that a couple of days have gone by, I'm a little nervous. Going off my own experiences at THIS university, what usually happens after a lengthy search is that they contact the person they really want IMMEDIATELY, and kinda let all the other finalists hang until their #1 pick actually signs on the dotted line (which can take a couple weeks) or eventually says, "No, thanks" after negotiations fail or there's a better offer elsewhere. I know I felt really great about this interview and all, and was secretly hoping that like Wednesday NIGHT they would be calling me, but now that that's not happened, I'm concerned. I at least hope I get my "You're a loser" letter via email rather than having to wait for it to come unexpectedly through the mail one day.

Although Beau and I have tried REALLY hard not to put too much hope in this potential job, and have only talked in quiet whispers of "well, IF we end up leaving Montana...," I know that privately, we've both really had our hearts on this, especially after the interview(s) seemed to go so well. And since this is the only job I've applied for, because I don't want to make the BIG move (*puke* again) to Missouri until either he or I get a job we really really want (and that will be a career, not some JOB job), it's not like there are any other prospects out there. I even stopped my daily "peruse the Missouri universities' job sites" habit. I visited them again for the first time this week, and even found a job at another university I think I'd enjoy. But there's a difference between "This might be a neat job" and "This is the type of job I really really want -- for life."

I hope I have some good news for y'all by at least the end of next week. This waiting sucks!

Voyage of Hope

Tomorrow I will be waking up at the scandalously early hour of 4am to catch a plane (or two) to Missouri. Yes, the interview has FINALLY arrived -- and it looks like I will be the first of three candidates. I think that's a good thing. I'll have the intro, tour, and dinner with VIPs on Monday, and the full-on interviews all day Tuesday. Then, I'm home by Tuesday night. A whirlwind! But I know how much more grueling it can be; what the people interviewing for professor or dean positions go through is downright brutal. At least I won't be subjected to an open forum for all campus to come and grill me.

I'm filled with excitement, fear, dread, anticipation, and lots and lots of hope. It's funny how one can be full of optimism and tragically fatalistic at the same time, but I guess that's just part of my charm. I really just need to relax and be myself, and bond with the interviewers and just have a good time with it.

My biggest worry is the reality of my lack of direct experience for this job. I have a whole bunch of very connected, similar jobs that have often splashed around in this potential job's pool. A few month's ago, this wouldn't have worried me, due to my strong desire to do this job, my related education, and all this applicable experience. But we have JUST finished two important staff searches here on campus, and if this university is anything like the one in Missouri, then I have some trouble. Anyone that we brought to campus was qualified, and well-liked and impressive. But repeatedly, I heard and read negative comments regarding those who lacked that "direct experience," despite their impressive degrees, glowing recommendations, and similar positions.

I'll say it again -- when did we stop getting jobs that were a "step up" for us? When did we only become qualified for a job that we were over-qualified for? I've noticed this in the past several years (as in NYC and somewhat in Missouri), and it has only been reinforced as I've seen many many people get hired here at the university -- you don't hire people anymore who will see the job as a promotion of sorts -- you hire those who have done that EXACT job for some time and know it in and out. Now, I know that may be comforting to the one hiring you, but it's awfully depressing for me. I'm looking eagerly for a job that will be my career, not another desk job that is just that, a job, even if it might pay a little bit more money. I want something to step up to, something that may just force me to learn a little I don't yet know, but still possess the foundation and skills it requires.

Oh well, I can't predict the future -- I can only keep doing what I'm doing (reading reading reading on everything on this field), and give it my best effort. And also, try not to come off as too desperate! I've interviewed plenty of people for positions, and boy, that's the kiss of death in an interview. I'll never forget that super creepy guy in Bangkok who we interviewed for a teaching position (and were completely uninterested in hiring). About a week later he just showed up at our office, and claimed he was "in the neighborhood." Without getting into too much detail, let's just say that the geographic location of our school -- at the very end of a street that went nearly a mile before it reached the main road, made it absolutely impossible to just "be in the neighborhood." There were no businesses or offices nearby, save for a scattering of Ma & Pop shops selling Coke in a baggie or grilling up meat on a stick. His surprise visit really unnerved us. I can't imagine what he would have been like had we hired him - though nearly all Western teachers were certifiable nutjobs anyway.

Ahh well, I better get off and go read some more. Or maybe just steal ONE more vassal off of Knights. Wish me luck, lovelies!

At Last

An old friend from NYC, "Belle," showed up recently. She had quit her job in Manhattan at our old non-profit and joined NOLS (National Outdoor Leadership Academy). She's probably THE most active, outdoorsy, fit person I have ever known. In fact, she's on her way to Tucson now where she'll take a climbing course in the desert.

One fun thing is that she is a Thai-phile like me, and LOVES to chat in Thai - her skills being far more advanced than my own, which is slowly slipping away save for some choice food vocabulary (of course). She and a local friend met Beau and I at a local Thai restaurant for lunch, and I had a really nice time.

Over some very delicious pad thai, Belle chastised me though for not keeping in touch since I came to Montana. This is the same problem I've had for the past year -- I haven't really kept in touch with people because I feel I have nothing good to say. "Yes, I'm still temping, Beau's still at Wally World, no, there really AREN'T any teaching jobs, yes, we're broke and cranky, and we're starting to hate Montana." Who wants to hear that shit over and over? (Sorry guys, you all who read this are given little choice!). So, I've just been waiting until I had some good news to report. Sadly, I've been waiting a year. Still, at the meal, Beau and I told our story, tried not to dive too deep into the Life Sucks pool, and attempted to focus on the many irons we have in the fire: Beau's recent interview at the University of Montana, as well as his initial interview with a Missouri high school, my recent interview at University of Missouri, and another upcoming interview at Missouri State for me, and Beau's attempts to get us back to New Zealand.

And of course, Belle's Missoula friend, who has lived here about three years, talked about how her first two years in Missoula were total professional hell and how she had "gone into a deep depression" because of it. Now, she has a great job at a great non-profit, but she understood our gripes. Naturally, I liked her. ;)

Belle, who can be quite the happy optimist at times, was full of enthusiasm, "Something will happen soon! Something's gotta! You're both so smart!" We smiled and nodded hopefully, and then Beau had to leave to go to work at Wally World. We've heard that before, but if we lose our hope, we're finished. Later, when Belle was driving me back to work, she reiterated, "You know something will happen. You're the hardest worker I've ever known, J., you always make it work, no matter where you are or where you go." Flattery is nice, but a paycheck is nicer. :/

About an hour later back at my office, I got a phone call from Beau.

"I got the university job," he said.

What happened next was me pulling out every self-control trick I could summon to keep from screaming at the top of my lungs and doing cartwheels (I can still do them!) down the hallway. I seriously started to tear up. I wanted to laugh and sob. My happiness (and relief) for Beau were so powerful I felt like I was overflowing. I dashed into my boss' office and jabbered off the news, while profusely thanking her for her husband's help - he is a professor on campus who was able to lend Beau some scientific equipment for his university interview, as well as chat about what Beau planned to do (a fun experiment involving a vacuum pump, bell jar, and some marshmallows).

There are so many wonderful levels to this: Beau will have a REAL job that involves science and education, and a great deal of professional advancement as well. He will have the opportunity to expand his scientific knowledge and collaborate with local educators. Although the job is only 6 hours a day, he will be paid several dollars more an hour than Wally World. He will get medical insurance, which he definitely needs! He will get tuition reimbursement at the university, as well as retirement. And best of all...

HE CAN FUCKING QUIT WALLY WORLD!!!!!!!

I texted Belle and told her she must be good luck, for he got the job after all. She called back and was completely thrilled, almost matching my own enthusiasm. Who knows, maybe she did bring us a bit of luck after all?

I don't know what this all means for our future, since we really do want to return to New Zealand, or at least, Missouri, but we are so focused on the here and now - that the present is all that matters.

Yay!

Que Sera Sera

The "Life on Pause" situation we've been feeling for the past ten months continues on, but at least now, there's a little bit of hope. A little.

After what seems like years, but in reality was only a few month's worth of numerous conversations of weighing options, financial plans, job realities, future dreams, and one very thorough Pro & Con list by yours truly, we've decided that we'd like to give New Zealand another go. BUT.

It's really not that simple. Besides the fact that we'd have less money this time (ugh), it's not like we can just buy a plane ticket and leave. One of us (really, Beau) has to procure a job first, and as you can imagine, trying to get a teaching job in a country an ocean away, basically via phone and email, is not so easy. I know that as the supervisor of teachers in Bangkok, I never hired anyone from overseas, despite our constant need for employees. It was too big of a risk to have someone move their entire life to Thailand where most did not adjust very well, unless they had a penchant for hookers and silos of beer. The one time I did it - with a friend - it went disastrously wrong. "Did it" as in hiring a friend, not doing the hookers and beer part. *cough*

At least we have our first experience under our belt, so we have an idea of what to expect, what we need to do, etc. It's perfect timing right now. The New Zealand school year begins in early 2008, so now's the time they begin hiring teachers. We've got a subscription to THE job notification system, and have been compiling a list of possibilities. Unfortunately, it's not as long as we'd like, but it IS a country of just 4 million people. How many Biology teachers can they need?

We've sent out about a half dozen applications so far. All have been to rather sizable cities, New Zealand-wise, (Auckland, Christchurch, Wellington). It's weird - both of us have this same feeling - it's like we're both really really hopeful and excited - and at the very same time, we're pretty much pessimistic, since we know the reality. Besides, we just don't have the strength to be blindly optimistic right now, so we're subtly vibrating with hope.

The first school Beau taught in was a tiny rural school with an ongoing shortage of teachers and a tradition of hiring foreigners (a South African replaced Beau after he left). We don't think schools in Auckland or Christchurch have the same problem.

But, Beau has both his fantastic experience in the U.S. and his time in a challenging New Zealand classroom on his side. Maybe...just maybe.

And though we are both desperate for good work, we're trying to be very certain that it's not a move of desperation. The other day I was perusing photos on a group on Facebook dedicated to living in New Zealand. So many of the places were familiar and I was really struck by a longing to return. It's not just about leaving Montana, though I certainly want to do that, it's about BEING in New Zealand. I don't just want to get a job there, but I want to be there, walking around, looking at the ocean and feeling the cool air. I want to raise a child there. I want to experience the rest of my life there, in a place that's big enough for all I need and small enough for what I want. That was one thing that seemed to separate me from many of the others on Facebook commenting on their favorite NZ city - they all lauded the touristy places - Queenstown and Wanaka for their ample winter and adventure activities, Rotorua and Wellington for their cultural ones, and Auckland for all a big city can offer you (like jumping off the Auckland Skytower like a lunatic). These were all turn-offs to me. Turn-offs in that I was approaching it a different way. When I think of New Zealand, I think of places I'd love to buy a house, get a job, have a baby, and just live the rest of my life in. Cities like Dunedin and Tauranga came quickly to mind. They're my favorites because they're where I want to BE, not where I want to PLAY.

If it doesn't work out, well, at least we gave it an honest try. As for Missoula, as Beau says, "we just gotta keep doing what we're doing," and not get bogged down in disappointments. It could always be worse. *knocks on wood frantically*

Back in 2002 when I decided I wanted to move to New Zealand, I had many ideas and reasons that were important to me. Those reasons haven't changed. And maybe, just maybe, I can get into rugby as much as Beau. I'll certainly never get into it as much as the Kiwis.