Big City, Lustful Heart

I do promise that my blog from now on will NOT be solely about being an obsessive mommy and the wonders of my child. But frankly, the last four months of Jiffy Pop's life have been solely my focus. As she gets older and develops more, I will also be spreading my own wings. Sadly, though living here out on the coast is just as breathtakingly beautiful as the day we arrived, it's now starting to suffocate me a bit. The upside is that it has allowed me to be a full-time mother to a preemie baby, something that would have been impossible in the States. The downside is that I haven't done more than temp or long-term relief work for the past few years and any semblance of a career is slowly becoming an impossibility. Oh, I knew what I was doing when we made Jiffy Pop. And I know living out here on the coast holds few opportunities for anyone, but still, it is starting to get me down.

Beau had some teacher training in Mt Maunganui, a good-sized city attached to Tauranga, which is the fastest-growing city in the country. We love these cities (we kind of see them as one, though I'm sure residents would get pissy about that), and so Jiffy Pop and I tagged along for the day.

It's always a treat to go to Auckland or Tauranga for the day to shop and see movies and eat at restaurants, etc. It's something I feel I truly need once in awhile. I am still a city girl at heart and though I have enjoyed the country, truly, it's not for me. Though surprisingly, when I picture my ideal situation for the future, Beau and I would live on a "lifestyle block" which is basically a modest piece of rural land on the outskirts of a big city where you can do a tiny bit of farming or animal raising, but mostly, it's just bigger and prettier to live in. (This kind of reminds me of what you guys did, Loafkeeper). Since New Zealand is still mostly rural, there are many of these blocks around and the only downside is your commute. But you'd still be attached to the city in some way.

So, on this recent trip to Mt Maunganui where Beau went off to enrich himself professionally, Jiffy Pop and I went off to...the mall! Though it was still morning, I promptly got myself some Indian food, Jiffy Pop got a big-ass bottle, and we proceeded to KILL that place.

It's amazing how much time you can kill in a mall (especially one with a bookstore that has lots of clearance items), and I felt so frickin happy. I missed the convenience, the accessibility, the choices of a city. And luckily, I have a pretty good baby who was a good girl the whole time I pushed her around in her "pram," which believe me, I was super thankful for after passing about 17,000 screaming babies while there (btw, is "bring your baby to the mall" a total THING? There were TONS of them!).

Sidnote: Super big shout-out to this Bayfair Mall! I took Jiffy Pop to the bathroom and saw something called a "Caretakers Room." Pushing a button, a long glass door slid slowly open to reveal an incredible (massive) room: three large changing tables with mats and a sink to wash your hands; a microwave for heating up food and bottles; three leather couches tucked into individual cubbies with a curtain you could pull across so you could breastfeed in private; a large play area filled with toys and sporting a glass enclosure so your little monster can't take off on you; high chairs; and a bathroom with various-sized potties for all ages. Oh, and soft lighting, too. Wow!

Anyway, we then picked up Beau, had some lunch, did a bit more shopping (hooray for the German sausage shop!), and headed home.

Since then (last week), I've felt a bit different. Going to Auckland or Tauranga is like that old adage about sex: once you do it, you wanna do it again right away. So, I've told myself that's just it, I just want to go back again, but I don't know. Though I have always missed living in the city, it's always been nice being here "in the bush," but now...it just seems a whole lot less tolerable. I know I know that this is the perfect time to live here since it has given me the right to take care of my daughter full-time. I really can't imagine what it must be like to return to work 6 weeks later like in the U.S. Awful.

But I've been here in the bush for 2 1/2 years now, and it's just not the place for me. It's so beautiful and the people are really warm and friendly, but the isolation is getting to me. And due to the fact that schools in the big cities won't even interview Beau for teaching positions (we still haven't figured this out, think it might be because he's American and not Kiwi, though people keep telling us, "It's who you know!"), I am terrified that we may be stuck here.

The only way out will be for me to get some great job that makes as much as Beau makes, which will be tough since he makes a pretty decent salary. And since I've been out of the job market for a few years now, who is going to want to hire me for a position like that?

But even if I did get a good job, our monthly costs would easily double once we leave the bush where rent is cheap and there isn't much to spend your cash on. And also, would Beau be happy just being a substitute in a big city, hoping to get a permanent position somehow? Probably not. He's already feeling a bit burnt out as it is and being a sub wouldn't help that much. But after Jiffy Pop gets a bit older, I need to work. I need to work and I need to contribute to my family's expenses. This is important to me.

Whine whine whine. I'm really not unhappy as I sound. My marriage is going well right now, Jiffy Pop gives me a great amount of joy, and though we have lots of bills and little cash, we're certainly not starving. There's just a current flowing in the back of my mind which is unsettling me. A restlessness that, really, is a fear of the future. I'm usually so optimistic about the future, but I need to know we will end up in a decent-sized city somewhere where Beau can work, I can work, Jiffy Pop can go to a good school, and we can possibly get a house.

I never knew such big, open beautiful spaces could make me feel so closed in. I'm going to make the most of this year, and then hope like hell next year we will settle (for good) in a place that will provide opportunities for us all.

Update: Lunch Lady Land

Yeah, disgusted with myself for not posting regularly. I'd like to fill in some gaps.

The "emergency funds" for my one-on-one position with Trucker ran out, but I've still continued to work at Beau's school, though now it's mostly filling in for either the school secretary or the canteen lady. It's the latter position that has been the most interesting for me. I spent over a week by myself in a long kitchen-like room with a serving window. I played my iTunes, and danced around the kitchen making the requisite hamburgers, chips (french fries), fish rolls (fried fish sandwiches) and other not-so-nutritious snack bar-y things. I tossed cheese, leftover fish, and the occasional dead mouse (from the mousetrap) to the half-wild cat that lived beneath the adjoining building, and when I was feeling motherly, warmed the students' cookies up in the microwave. I actually enjoyed it my time there, though it wouldn't be something I'd want to do for life.

My working as school secretary or canteen lady lets me see (for the most part) the good part of these kids. In each position I seem to have developed a small group of groupies (though strangely, not the same kids) who hang out and talk to me, telling me how beautiful my eyes are and asking questions about Mr. Beau and I. ("How old are you? How old is he again?"). Beau just loves to be asked by the kids why I married him, and if he's secretly rich. *snicker*

Of course, the secretary and canteen lady can't be sick/on vacation all the time, so it's not the most consistent work, though I have managed to work at least one day every week, which helps. It would help more if the accountant didn't manage to muck up EVERY PAYCHECK I've made. Yes, it's true, 8 out of 8 paychecks have had errors (mostly, missing shifts), which has just about made me psycho.

Beau and I have also been taking a Maori language class every Wednesday for 3 hours at a time in our community. I was a bit worried that I wouldn't be able to focus for such a long class, but it's gone really well. Our teacher is an older woman who I completely adore. Shaped a bit like a weeble-wobble with more missing than present teeth and a loud, infectious laugh, she makes the class relaxed and fun. Except for Beau and I, the entire class are Maori, mostly women, and range in age from early 20's to senior citizens tottering on canes.

I have to admit, of all the languages I've studied, this class is the most supportive environment I've ever been in. In the past, there have been certain languages I've studied where the native or heritage speakers have shown a bit of reluctance in my participation, as if I was invading their secret world. This class totally lacks any competitiveness and there are frequent bouts of applause when a student speaks in class. Also, in true Maori style, there is a giant "tea" about halfway through each class where we all bring food and then stuff ourselves silly on smoked fish, fresh fruit picked off everyone's fruit trees, cakes and homemade soups. I've really enjoyed it, even if I haven't always felt like going.

Nothing too exciting, but that's about it for now. Hopefully this will egg me on to write more...and next time I'll write about when Beau and I spent a day in the local marae (Maori meeting house) with our class.

Back for Now

I knew I would never stay away forever, but though I have nearly written a blog a couple dozen times, I always stopped part way through it. I guess I just wasn't ready. I even started to try to write pre-break-up blogs, because there were some memories I wanted to write down before I forgot them...because I will forget them, beyond vague imagery and the powerful feelings left behind (I always remember how I felt about something more than the event itself), but they never quite materialized, though I did get quite a bit way through the midnight possum hunt Beau and I had. I'll finish that at some point.

The other reason I didn't post was that my very first job -- that great one I began with such promise and hope -- my first Kiwi position, ended unbelievably horribly, and except for several hyperbolic moments in Bangkok, can easily be said to be the worst work experience of my life (Montana couldn't even compete). And knowing how my work experiences in the past few years have been less than fortunate, I grew tired of once again getting into the whole story -- of explaining why and how. But I can't resist explaining...just a little bit.

I started working at a health clinic as the clinic manager, and entered the job with gusto. Two of my co-workers were great people, and the psychologists there were all friendly and welcoming -- one was even a gregarious American. But the boss turned out to be a complete and total psycho control freak. It started nearly the moment I arrived, though I couldn't really know at the time, when she walked me around the clinic and instructed me just how EXACT the pillows had to be placed on each couch, how I had to straighten up and throw away papers on the shrinks' desks (touch their shit?), how I had to use THIS pad of paper to take notes, and never use that one, etc. I mentally shrugged at the time -- big deal, I can do that -- but didn't know that the woman's control went farther than how many rolls of toilet paper I had in the cabinet or what kind of shirt I was wearing (yes, she critiqued how I dress).

Let's just say, for only the second time in my life (see my Roadhouse experience here), I walked out on a job. Oh, I stayed that last night and tied up EVERY SINGLE loose end, as well as leaving long, type-written notes for everyone in there who might be affected by my departure. Still, it was awful, despite the fact that my leaving was a mutual decision. That day, 2 psychologists came up and hugged me and said, "You're doing the right thing to get out of here." (One has since left, the other only worked one day a week and was already finding it trying).

Since I left in June, 3 psychologists and 4 other staff members have left and I hear that 2 psychologists are now grumbling and another staff person is considering leaving. That's 7 people in 3 months. Oh, and the place was thousands and thousands of dollars in debt when I got there, and the bank was ONLY paying out our salaries, but nothing more, so every time toner ran out or the copy machine stopped working, it was a major disaster. Not to mention that every day I had to field calls from a slew of justifiably angry bill collectors who hadn't been paid for 3-4 months and had had enough.

One good thing came out of it -- I made a fantastic friend there, one I really have a lot in common with. She has since quit (naturally), and we meet up when we can and always have a great time together. So, I guess it wasn't all bad.

That was my introduction to the workforce, and it was rather demoralizing. All the while, I had rent to pay, electricity, which is WAY beyond what I ever paid in the U.S., and all the other usual stuff to keep you alive. My salary at the clinic was a good one, and I figured it wouldn't be long before I found another job and could settle in again.

Shit, I was wrong.

And of course, I was also dealing with the crumbling of my marriage, which had left me with a deep ache alternating between sharp pains and a burning sensation which emanated from my chest and spread outwards. I walked around half-zombie, half mental patient, feeling so fragile, and constantly fighting off the urge to burst out into ugly sobbing at any given moment. Those are the days where you can't imagine getting through the day and you think the pain will never subside enough for you to lead a normal life. But it does, slowly.

I went through a myriad of things during this time, some of it was actually good, for though part of me was wounded and part of me was enraged, another part of me was full of love and wonder, and I used that to keep myself afloat and to clean out some of the cobwebs in my head.

Anyway, now I'm here, in Auckland, still. I really love Auckland -- all the perks of a big city with all the beauty and tranquility of a suburb. What I didn't quite realize was that in this recession (yes, here too), a foreigner with a simple work permit is of no use to a company who is already laying off workers AND who also has to prove to the government that there isn't a single other Kiwi who could do the same job - not easy when your skills lay in the un-skilled realm of administration. As soon as it was learned that I didn't have permanent residency, backs were turned. Still, I applied eagerly -- 30 jobs in about two weeks.

Nothing. Zippo.

I registered with temp agencies. EIGHT of them. Finally, work started trickling in. I worked for the government doing data entry. That was fine, and had some interesting people. I did mock interviews for big corporate company, which was fine as well. Then most recently I got a position with one of the universities, hooray(!), for a whole month to cover a receptionist on leave (you can do that here in New Zealand, go on leave for a month). Everyone in the department was super nice, and the month flew by. The wages sucked (after paying rent and bills, I was down to about $70 NZD/week for food, gas, parking and anything else), but it was just such a wonderful place to be in after my awful clinic manager experience. My last day at the department was this past Friday, and I was sad to say goodbye. They were just the kind of people you love to work with -- kind, funny, close, cat lovers.

And tomorrow I start another assignment, also at the university, though in a different department on a different campus. It's another clerical job with a big emphasis on typing. That's fine. At this point, until I get my permanent residency (hopefully, sometime in October), there isn't much I can do but just keep treading water.

And that hasn't been all my own doing. Part of my staying afloat has to do with my landlord, who lives on the property and has been completely understanding and kind. Many times my rent was late, real late, and he was always fine with it. He said, "I'll never come over and demand the rent. Please, don't worry about anything." Wow...wonderful.

But the truth is, it's really Beau that has thrown me a life preserver (or two). There were a few weeks in between my leaving the health clinic and finding any kind of steady work, and during those lean times it was his paycheck that kept my heat on (it was still winter) and food in my belly. And here it is, about 4 months later, and he hasn't had one paycheck that I haven't pilfered in one way or another. I am now at the point where I am caught up on rent, electricity, and internet bills (yeah, as poor as I am, you don't go without internet unless you want to find my cold, dead, bored body), but I'm still unable to make it completely unsubsidized. It's pathetic, but it's getting better.

I did have one hiccup. One day, out of the blue (after biting an olive with a pit inside), my front tooth came off. Yeah, broke right off. Okay, it wasn't like my real-real tooth, it was one of those veneer things. But it was RIGHT IN THE FRONT!. The NEXT day I had an interview for a REAL job at the university for gobs of money. How can I go in there like a fucking hick? I panicked, but did find a dentist on a Sunday and promised him sex and my first born child to fix it. He did stun me when I pulled out a wad of damp bills and said, "I only have $90, can I give you $50?" and then proceeded to say, No, he was going to take the whole $90. Bastard. An hour later I left with a new tooth and a bill for $650 (minus the $90).

Oh, and as for the job interview, they said they loved me, I was their #2 pick, but they picked someone else cause they'd already worked with her before. GODDAMMIT.

And as for Beau and I. I don't know. We don't know. We had a few good, long talks on the phone, and then we downloaded Skype and talk quite a bit every day. We've visited each other several times, and as usual with Beau, it's always been a great time. I love being around him, always have, that hasn't changed. I love him. But, things are different now. I want it to be better, and frankly, I'm willing to do quite a lot for it, but there are things that have to happen first.

I feel like I've been gone (from him, our dog, and our gorgeous place in the bush) forever, and some things about that have been really good for me, and some things have just sucked. I'm not in intense pain anymore, though I still have my moments. I'm just trying to live my life, which frankly, feels a bit in limbo right now. Without a husband, but not divorced, without a real job, but still working, without any kind of citizenship, but living as a lifetime Kiwi. I'm trying to be patient until these are all resolved.

And I'm not a patient kind of girl.

Am I in the Movie, "Brazil?"

So, I'm currently temping for a government agency. It's work that contains both juicy information and utter tediousness. I'm grateful for it, since it's tough to get a "short-term" job when you go to temp agencies. The majority of jobs are long-term, "temp to hire" positions, and I wanted to be truthful about skipping town in a month or two. After applying to SIX temp agencies (a new record), I finally got this job. The pay is so-so, but since our rent is so low, and our time here so short, I'm satisfied.

I can't get into exactly where I'm working, shit, these are the Feds! But basically I've been hired to help a woman sort out her hundreds of files of applications. I've been going through them, one. by. one. Basically I see what's been submitted, what's still needed, or if the file should be eliminated altogether. That's the tedious, stab-myself-in-the-eye part. The interesting part is that the majority of them involve background checks, and I'd say at least 50-70% of those come back with some kind of record. The most interesting one I saw today, was a guilty plea to "Pursuing/Taking/Killed/Possessed or Disposed of Wildlife Illegally," which is a misdemeanor. I imagined some guy with a backyard of cages filled with lemurs or three-toed sloths. Or some kook chasing bunnies around with a shotgun. Or maybe some guy who was cutting the fins off of sharks and selling them secretly to Chinese restaurants. Never mind that Missouri is landlocked.

"He probably hit a deer and threw it in the back of his truck," said my boss, whom we'll call Keisha.

"Oh, sure," I said, feeling stupid. I mean, this is Missouri.

As I troll through stacks of applications, I find myself in a dual role -- benevolent cheerleader and ruthless destroyer of dreams. As I tick off items on the long checklist, I find when someone gets close, I feel a rising sense of glee, "Come on, come on, you're so close. You can make it!'" At the same time, I get a wicked delight in looking up someone's record and finding them a criminal, and therefore, I can then get RID of another file from the suffocating piles surrounding me. "Sorry, scary dude(tte), you're outta here!"

At first I sat at a small desk beside my boss, with NO COMPUTER, but a few days later I was put in some small office with a distracting view of where the majority of the staff take their smoke breaks, en masse. This really surprised me. I have come to see smokers in general as a kind of endangered species. Once in awhile you'll see that one lonely smoker at the side of a building, pushed up against the wall, holding the cigarette close to their body, while giving off that look of both self-consciousness and defiance. But here, I'll look out the window and see a half a dozen people chatting away, propping up the elbow of their smoking hand with the other, looking relaxed and content.

Anyway, the good news is that I'm by myself in a room working -- I love that! AND I have a computer so I can reach certain files, which does include the internet. The bad news is, that they seem to have quite the Big Brother oversight on this thing, and the vast majority of sites I want to visit, including my own blog, are blocked. Even today when I wanted to bring up Wendy's website to see where the closest restaurant was, THAT was blocked. I'm basically limited to yahoo mail (thank god), and some random sites here and there that they haven't seem to have thought of yet. I wonder if they can also monitor every keystroke. God, I hope not. *looks around*

Anyway, it's my 5th day and I'm in the "S"s of the alphabet. *sigh* Then I have to start all over again basically start contacting people to get their shit together that I discovered was missing in the first place.

This may take awhile.

The Creepy Bread Fairy

These kinds of things used to happen to me almost on a daily basis. Creepy for real life, great for blogging. Alas, they're much more infrequent now, but still just as fun....

It all started when I was sitting outside on my break from my new temp job here in Columbia, MO. The job itself is fine -- somewhat tedious, but since it's just a way to make money for the next month or so, I'm happy with it. I was reading The Pale Horseman by Bernard Cornwell, a book I was totally into, when an old man pulled up in a rush and swooshed into the no parking space in front of me.

As he got out and started jogging to the door of the building, he looked at me and said, "Will you watch my truck for me, darling?"

I blinked in confusion. Thinking he was joking, or crazy, I shouted out, "Sure, no problem" and went back to my book.

About 5 minutes later he emerged from the building, and passing me again, called out, "Thanks, sweetheart!" "No problem," I replied and just as I was about to read again, he motioned me to come over to his truck.

Uh oh. Creepy Man Alert.

Oh, what the hell. I got up and walked about halfway to his truck, staring at him. At first, I thought he was reaching for his wallet. WTF? Is he going to try to PAY me for this? Instead, to my astonishment, he pulled out a large loaf of bread and held it out to me.

"Uhhh, yeah. I don't really think I should be taking your bread."

"No, really, I've got TONS of these. Take it!"

Peering at the bread, I saw that it was the exact kind Beau and I buy for our FREQUENT turkey or peanut butter and jelly sandwiches (the "Save Money for New Zealand Diet"). It was really good bread! Though I don't mind subsisting off of PB&J that much, I do insist that the bread is decent.

I still hesistated. Isn't this the part in the scary movies where the audience is shouting at the screen, "Don't do it! Run away!"??

*shrug*

I grabbed the bread, thanked him, and he drove off. Thus, with my 10-minute break over, I turned around and awkwardly walked back into the office building, my purse in one hand, the loaf of bread dangling from another.

Back in my boss' office, she stared at me for a moment and then said, "You went and bought bread on your 10 minute break?"

"Erm, not exactly."

Moving, Money, Mean Office Manager

I usually try to keep my blog for events that happen in my life, but since the past few months have presented very few events, ergo, I'm BORING, I'm just writing to write now.

Today ended a week-long hiatus of the Evil Office Manager Women. At the end of the work day yesterday, several employees lamented the end of their freedom, the end of the large exhale we all felt when she first went on vacation. It kind of amazes me how I can almost totally ignore her, how she no longer has much effect on my work day, and yet there's that very subtle awareness of just how much more happy and relaxed I am when she's not around, even if I like to pretend she's wearing an invisibility cloak all the time when she is here.

Besides her, work overall is going fairly well, despite the fact I haven't confessed my departure to my boss yet. Why? Because I'm a complete coward and my boss, whom I have grown to deeply like and admire, will be SUPER pissed. I'm the first person she's had to really help her out ever, (her workload is monstrous), and she's really enjoyed it. And I know she's thankful and thinks I rock, cause she literally said so in her own self-evaluation she handed in to her boss last week. Huzzah!

And one thing I realized a little while ago, is that although I'm getting paid fucking peanuts, and a good part of my job involves menial tasks, I am still learning a LOT. I feel like I have acquired, under her guidance, a real kind of expertise in certain academic areas of higher education. This would have been an ideal job for me about 10 years ago - a position to learn and grow in. Now, it's just kind of an interesting internship.

In other news, Beau and I are very slowly moving into freaking out-bickering mode. With the upcoming move to Missouri becoming more of a reality (we kind of are in the "we'll believe it when we're actually turning the key in the rental truck" kind of mentality), a lot of the oppressive stress that accompanies such a big move is beginning to descend. As always for Beau that includes, "How the FUCK are we going to pay for all of this?!" For me, that includes, "How are we going to pack and get this place cleaned in time?!" Due to our awful student loan situation and back taxes, we will not see one single cent of our "stimulus" check. So much for that MUCH NEEDED help. All those who went out and bought new leather furniture or jet skis or a trip to Hawaii can kiss my white butt.

And, being the World's #1 EXPERT on moving, I have already begun, with a great amount of gusto, to prepare for the move. I began taking pictures off the wall and packing away books the day after Beau accepted his new teaching job. We've already cleaned out our little storage unit and I have rapidly begun filling it with precisely-packed boxes. I'd pack even more, just so we could get a headstart on what I'm truly dreading -- the CLEANING -- but the slow disappearance of our worldly possessions from the small apartment is beginning to make Beau nervous. It's true, the simple act of removing pictures from the wall turns your place from a "home" to an empty hotel room.

Speaking of student loans - those beasts of educational burden - both Beau and I were finally tracked down by our loan people and forced (yes, forced) to start coughing up money again. Some guy kept calling my work (thank god someone else answers the phone), and asking for me. When I looked up the private company he worked for, the website displayed a sort of creepy "We can find anyone, dead or alive!!!" motto. FREAKED me out. And I very much doubted that I was being sought out for an inheritance from an unknown rich relative. Still, though I knew it was most likely the student loan people (my credit is otherwise just fine now), it was rather scary that they would hire such a company.

Well, after the guy called several times, and the receptionist was starting to give me the "I'm getting sick of covering for you" speech, I bucked up and took his call. Unsurprisingly, it was the student loan people, but in a weird twist of fate, it was NOT the people who own the 90% overall chunk of my loans, but the guys who have the other 10%. Seeing as I can only possibly pay one of these guys at a time, at least it was the 10% people who got me. If/when the 90% people get me, I'm going to fucking starve, and I'm not being cute.

My weight continues to be a big issue, and continues to aggravate my blood pressure. I've wanted to get off my blood pressure meds, not just because I hate having a host of pills to take every morning, but also to save me from the humiliation of my office mates watching me get up and go to the restroom every 30-60 minutes like some sort of pregnant racehorse. But my doctor said unless I had some sort of "significant weight loss," I had to take them or face a stroke. Lovely.

I'm still pretty stymied as to why I've been so steadily and rapidly gaining weight, despite the continued dramatic changes in my diet. I've even begun running in the mornings, an activity I don't enjoy, so hopefully something will come of that soon. It's funny, many years ago I was a long-distance runner, and now when my fat ass runs a much shorter length, I feel so totally ridiculous. It's like my body is flapping and protruding all over the place. As I run, I swear it feels like I'm sticking my butt out in some kind of tarty pose. My feet pound on the ground like I'm trying to grind corn. And after my short run, I have the same heart-searing, gasping-for-the-breath-of-life feelings I once had after running an under-7-minute mile. To think I won that Presidential Fitness Award twice as a kid. Now? Pathetic.

One big joy has been our community garden which is again chock-full of tomato plants (20 this year!), purple and yellow beans, butternut squash, Thai chilies, basil, mint, kale, and THE most amazing sugar pea and snow pea plants I have ever seen, thankyouverymuch! The pea plants are beginning to take on a familiar Little Shop of Horrors look to them, which I am rather proud of. It was pretty touch and go for awhile, since just TWO FRICKIN WEEKS AGO it snowed here! Yes, yes, it snowed! For TWO days! In JUNE! Death to tomato plants! Luckily, they pulled through (not sure if the Thai chilies will make a comeback), so I eagerly await their bounty.

Oh, and another big joy has been the re-submergence into the glorious world that is Harry Potter. After a year or two of begging Beau to read the first book, he finally did, and with the second book, we continued our ritual of "Beau drives, J. reads," one of my favorite things in the whole world. So, to and from work, to and from the store, and muting the TV on commercial breaks at home, I read and read and read from the glorious books. We read a book, then immediately watch the movie. We just watched the Order of the Phoenix dvd this past weekend, and I'm already well past page 100 in book 6. It was so wonderful to introduce him to Lupin and Tonks and the awesomeness that is Fred & George and Neville and Luna and.... *happy sigh* We just need to finish Half-Blood Prince by November when the movie comes out, which I think will be no problem at all. I can hardly wait to start reading book 7!!!

Jerked Around

I've been fairly quiet for awhile. I haven't felt much like writing, basically, because I've been in a holding pattern. After my great interview at the university, I knew I'd have to wait about a month for the other two candidates to fly in and have their turn. Well, it's been about 8 weeks since then, and I STILL haven't heard anything. I emailed the director. Nothing. Finally today, my heart pounding, I called up to ask them point blank -- I'm assuming I'm not hired, could you at least tell me so?

Apparently, not so. After leaving my message on their voicemail, the admin assistant called me back. I had really enjoyed talking to her when I was there, and knew (hoped) she wouldn't jerk me around. She just called me back, all apologies, falling over herself to try and explain.

THEY HAVEN'T MADE A DECISION YET! Wtf??? Keep in mind that I interviewed for this job on March 14th. And even if you allow an additional two weeks for each of the other finalists, that still leaves a good 7-8 weeks to mull it over. This isn't like a high-powered, high-paying job. It's a DECENT job, doing something I'd LOVE to do, but it's hardly the presidency.

Now, to complicate things.... Beau had a phone interview for a teaching job in Missouri earlier this week and they offered him the job on the spot! (because he's awesome). It's a place that is probably a good 190 miles away from the university I interviewed at. A bit of a commute! The high school wants Beau to give him their final decision -- by TOMORROW. Oh hell.

And I think it's very important that he says "yes," because it's not like Biology teaching jobs are falling out of the sky and this is a guaranteed ticket back to Missouri for us (and a fairly decent teacher's salary as well). Knowing my continuous bought of crappy luck, he'll say "yes," and a month from now (the admin assistant said it could be as long as the end of June before they know for sure. Pfff), they'll call up and say, "Congratulations, you got the job!"

*sob*

I tell you, moving..... again. Stab me now. But, this is it. READ. MY. LIPS. This is it! No more moving ever ever ever again. Missouri is where I will be buried!

Well, unless we get the chance to go back to New Zealand. *cough*

Beau is in a complete tizzy. He worries like an old woman, and stresses! He just cannot conceive how we can possibly move -- financially. All we own is the little Honda, but now we have furniture and you know, stuff. It's not like renting a UHaul is as easy or cheap as it used to be, and let's not forget $4/gallon gas. He almost doesn't want to take the job just because he doesn't know how we'll manage to get there.

But hey, it's me! I always find a way. Sure, I'm always broke, but I always get to where I need to be.

And lastly, the thought of diving back into that job market again is a monstrously terrifying thought for me. Selfishly, I had really hoped that THIS time that -I- would be the one who got the great job and Beau would be following me, because every time I move to a new place, it gets harder and harder to get that good job. One bright spot -- Beau's job is just 20 miles from Columbia, a nice, mid-sized city (with a good Thai restaurant!) that is home to the biggest university in the state (and a few smaller ones). Yes, I'm already looking for jobs now.

Here we go again.

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!

I Meant To Do That!

Waking up this morning, I shuffled out of the bedroom and saw Beau walking toward me, already dressed to leave for Wally World. This was our conversation:

Me: Erm, you're wearing your shirt backwards.

Beau: *without breaking stride* I KNOW!

Me: Okay!

Beau: *stomps into bedroom, and without a word, proceeds to turn shirt around*

We're a bit tired around here.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Small life update: I continue to work at my job, and have an interview coming up for a super cool job in Missouri. I've already warned my current boss that there's a possibility that we may have to leave Montana. Since her husband went through an almost identical professional crisis as Beau, she totally understood. *love*

Last night Beau had an interview at, of all places, the university. It's for a fantastic job with *gasp* GOOD pay - something he could really sink his teeth into and something that is directly related to his career - hallelujah! But as with all things in Missoula, there are always loads of people who apply for each position, so we'll see. In my job currently, I've been working on 3 separate search committees, and the amount of over-qualified people is really astounding. The competition is just like when I lived in New York City, erm, except without the good pay, good benefits, and plethora of jobs to apply for.

Anyway, it sounds like the interview went well, so here's hoping he can quit Wally World once and for all!!!! We'll wait and see and knock on wood and cross our fingers 'til they're all sore!

You're Never Satisfied

So, I got the job.

I wish I could say I was thrilled, ecstatic, happy, and excited. But really, I'm slightly disappointed and mostly just relieved (kind of like when you find out you're not pregnant after a pregnancy scare). I have yearned for the "security" that a permanent job offers (as well as medical insurance, annual leave, etc.), for an entire year now, and to not be a temp certainly gives me a much stronger sense of stability. But...but but but.

I'm a brat.

Especially since it's even better than I imagined. After my boss (the Big Cheese) took me into a room, I thought I was being let go, for sure. I felt kind of okay about it, since I'd been steeling myself for it for weeks and weeks, though I'm sure once I got home, I would have bawled my eyes out.

Then he told me I had the job, and furthermore, because I had expressed my desire to really have a more substantive role and duties, I was to be given that too. I'll get to work on some real issues here at the university. PLUS, I will be working exclusively with my Cool Boss and not at ALL with the ever-aggravating Office Manager Woman (OMW). They will be hiring an ADDITIONAL person to do all the plebian stuff that I've been doing and to work closely with OMW to help her get out from under her massive workload.

Oh yeah, and I'll be getting a "substantive raise."

Fantastic! Right? It sure sounds great as I type it all out. And make no mistake, I am truly grateful for this chance to prove that all this potential I have is the real deal. This is a good opportunity and I plan to make the most of it.

But I also realize that my heart is not in it. Oh, I'll make sure to do a good job, I'll continue to work hard and give it my all, but I think I "left" Montana already. This is sort of a state of mind I get when I KNOW I'm going to leave a place. About a month or two before I actually do, I kind of mentally leave it already. It can make it pretty unbearable to wait out those final weeks, but I guess it's a bit of a defensive mechanism to get me excited for the new place and ease the transition of leaving behind the old. I still remember making my "Goodbye" mixed tape when I left Arizona just a week after high school graduation to fly to Wisconsin for college (I was in a summer program before my freshman year began). As the plane took off, my heart pounding, "Already Gone" by the Eagles was playing in my ears, followed by songs like "Philadelphia Freedom" and "Goodbye Yellow Brick Road" by Elton John and "I'm Free" by Kenny Loggins.

I've just become so disenchanted with Montana this past year that I yearn to start anew. I feel like I'm done here, and unless the dream job of the universe fell in my lap, I'm not sure I could muster up the excitement to stick around. And even if a great job DID come about, that doesn't change the fact that wages are low, we live hand to mouth, and that the possibility of purchasing a house has now become a joke (Missoula housing prices continue to skyrocket despite the rest of the nation's housing slump).

I now fantasize about returning to Missouri (hopefully Columbia or Springfield area), and still dream of New Zealand. I feel like I'm just treading water here and wasting precious time. I'll be 35 next month and I have no career to show for it, not to mention that if I want to get knocked up, the clock has recently begun to tick in my ear. I need a job that I can not only use my education and skills in, but one that I look forward to going to every day. And my husband needs that as well. I'm not ashamed to say this place has crushed us. I don't feel shame because I know that we're two worthy, educated, talented people who just got a shit deal, and that in many other places, we'd be kicking some ass right now.

But for now, I'm gainfully employed. Hallelujah.

Onward!

Anger, Disgust, Towel Thrown In

I've had it with Missoula. Totally. Had it. There are not NEARLY enough redeeming qualities to justify the Bizarro World we've been living in for nearly a year now. The arrogance. The completely incredulous behavior. The highs have been scarce, and the lows have been just ridiculous. Come June, with luck (ha!), we'll get the fuck out of here. I'm so angry right now I can hardly breathe.

As previously mentioned, Beau has been subbing for local high schools, one in particular who seemed to take a real liking to him. He was chummy with the Science staff, who constantly requested him personally. When a half-time teaching job became available at the sudden departure of a Biology teacher, the Science staff was quick to shepherd Beau in to take it over temporarily and rallied for him to apply and take it permanently. Half-time isn't ideal, but hell, we were thrilled to finally get our foot in the door! FINALLY!

Of course, he would have to interview for it, and the first month would be considered "temping" before it actually became a salary job (erm, okay, whatever). He began temping the very next day. A few weeks later, they had him interview. All seemed well. Throughout this time, Beau was inundated with compliments. Apparently, the previous teacher had had a LOT of trouble with her students, and Beau's fluid classroom management had made such a remarkable change, that other teachers were commenting happily, and even stated they saw an improvement in their OWN classrooms with the same students. Good signs!

Then, after time had gone on and nothing was heard, an administration person made a comment to Beau that "it's down to the two of you - they're just doing background checks." The two of you?? Immediately, a red flag went up for both of us. Usually, a comment like that wouldn't phase me, but knowing how things here never turn out the way they NORMALLY would, I was somewhat nervous. Obviously they could (and should) interview other qualified candidates, but Beau pretty much thought he'd had it in the bag. How many kudos and how much staff support can you get and NOT think so?

Then the principal called him last night and asked him to come in early today. We knew what that meant, we just hoped it was a POSITIVE thing. It had to be, right?? Beau called me a few minutes before he was to start teaching class to tell me that the principal had informed him that they were going with the other candidate, and as of tomorrow, Beau was out on his ass. Just like that. The principal stated that Beau had "done nothing wrong" during his time teaching these classes, but the other teacher had "more of a Chemistry background" (Note: it's 3 classes of Biology). Then the principal said the job would have to go up again in the Fall, and that he should feel free to apply. *snort* Yeah, right.

I feel so devastated for Beau (who is taking it as stoically as he always does) and so fucking pissed off at what seems to be our Year of Utter Shit, our Year of No Luck, our Year of Menial Jobs and Professional Demoralization. I feel like we really haven't done anything wrong -- that we've been our usual selves -- get a job(s), work hard, do well -- and yet, all we've experienced is disappointment and backsliding. No one could ever accuse us of not trying hard and putting in an honest effort, again and again.

And it's not over yet -- I still have not heard back about MY job, which I should any day now, and which could ALSO go from me being a 9 month temp to unemployed. Ho ho ho. I'm to the point now where I just want to get some totally mindless, anonymous job, like doing 8 hours a day of pure data entry in a small cubicle where no one talks to me, no one looks at me, no one gives me any fucking shit, and I can just become a work zombie. No more ambition, no more desire to have a good middle management job where I can make decisions, and do some good. I haven't totally given up.....yet (a job I applied for in Missouri has currently gone from the HR person to the hiring manager - a very good sign), but I am so sick and tired of this place and it's stupefying outcomes. I'm ready to leave. Now.

Groundhog Day - Vomit

I'm beginning to think I'm living my own version of Groundhog Day. Just a lot less funny.

Last Friday I had an interview. For my own job. You know, the job I've been doing since March. And the crazy part is, I don't have high hopes of getting it, nor do I have a strong desire to. And yet, if I don't get it, we're fucked. Totally.

It's the Office Manager Woman (OMW) whom I've been having this bizarre personality conflict with that makes me think I'm in trouble. Her abrupt 180 turn in behavior has made me both confused and sad, though the other employees who have been here for a couple years aren't even fazed. They say that she does that with everyone. Since OMW's declaration that she needed to be "professional" and that her previous chumminess with me was "inappropriate," working with her has become uncomfortable. This is so disappointing, since I really adored her before, and now she's so hyper-critical, so disapproving, that it's making me both paranoid and pissed off. I guess it all comes down to how much clout she has compared to my other boss - the one I adore working with who gives me all the interesting projects to do.

And then, of course, there's the Big Cheese. He's a great guy, but in reality, we have very little contact since every single day he has an insane back-to-back schedule of meetings. In addition, OMW has declared herself his personal assistant and demanded that all contact for him must go through her. She ripped me a new one a couple weeks back because I told a professor he could come introduce himself to the Big Cheese at the end of the day. She took me behind closed doors to berate me for what seemed like a year of my life, telling me that making "appointments" for the Big Cheese was something I was told NEVER to do and that she "didn't want to be rude" but she didn't know how she could make it more clear. I guess I didn't see a handshake as an appointment, but none the less, I guess I know my place now now!

First, I interviewed with OMW and my Cool Boss. That went fine, though it was awkward since I've already been working here for awhile which kinda skewed the questions (they have to ask identical questions of everyone). After that, I had a one-on-one with the Big Cheese, and found myself pleasantly surprised at just how well it went and how much I enjoyed myself. I totally get now why he is so adored and why people gush over him. I've never had one-on-one time with him before, and he is a fantastic communicator. He has this way of showing empathy and acting as if what you say has real interest and meaning to him. He furrows his brow and nods sagely, which makes you feel as if you said something intriguing. In addition, he can finish your sentences, which is a rather startling, and intimate trait. When he asked me what my dream job on campus would be, and I said, "To be the head of International Programs," his eyebrows shot up and he said, "Oh really!?" in such a way that I couldn't tell if he was impressed or flabbergasted at my ambition.

I believe today was the last interview (they interviewed about four or five others). What will happen in the end, I have no idea. I've had numerous people in different departments stop by or call up and say, "Did you get it?" and I have to just shrug and smile and say, "I don't know yet!" That's usually when I'm met with a scowl and a conspiratorial whisper of, "That's how this office always is - all this ridiculous mystery." Anyway, like I said, I guess it depends on how much the other two will defer to OMW. I know the Big Cheese feels thankful for her, as most powerful leaders due to their hard-working, all-controlling assistants, so we'll see. It's strange to need a job you totally don't want, and how demoralizing that can be. Yes, I continue to apply to other jobs (mostly in Missouri) when applicable ones come up, and I'm steeling myself for the possibility that I may be unemployed right around Christmas - demoralizing indeed. Oh well.

Wish me luck. I think.