From a New York State of Mind to a Missouri Bluebird

Hi,

Yes, as usual, it’s been eons since I’ve written. The answer is simple – the fu*$kin federal government raised my student loan payments to $572 a month. Yes, let me just say that again, FIVE HUNDRED SEVENTY-TWO DOLLARS, not Pesos, nor Baht, nor Kwacha. Dollars. And, to keep myself from utter starvation, I’ve taken on a second job. The long and the short of it is that I have been working all day at my regular job in the non-profit world (and by non-profit, I mean non-profit for MYSELF as well), and have taken on a night job as an ESL teacher. The job is fantastic, I love teaching, but it also means I leave my house at 8:30am each morning and don’t get home til about 11:30pm at night. Needless to say, such a schedule, and the fatigue that follows, seriously inhibits any desire to write, and additionally, any more chances for NYC adventures.

BITE ME U.S. DEPARTMENT OF EDUCATION.

That’s the shitty news.

Furthermore, I had an IRS refund of $1100 that the Dept of Ed quickly snatched from my salivating self to apply toward my student loans, as an "involuntary payment" (no shit, Sherlock). Despite the fact that I have faithfully been paying them for about nine months, they say the first six months didn’t count (because I was paying a PALSY $325/month then! Not the required $572!). Anyway, I hate the Dept of Ed even more. Good luck coming from a low-income family and getting an education and not remaining deeply-set in poverty for the rest of your life. What the hell is an education for if you’re poor? To keep you poor? I feel like I'm living in some sort of cruel Republican loop of madness.

Now, let’s get on to the better news.

I’m leaving NYC. And yes, that’s good news. Well, not immediately good, considering my first stop. But my second, and final stop, is rather exciting. The Cowboy whom I’ve mentioned in the past, and whom I’ve been dating for about seven months, is going to take in this eccentric woman as his partner – see, cowboys are brave! I’ll be living in Missouri with him until the end of the summer, and assuming all goes well, we will be moving to New Zealand in late summer.

New Zealand, yes! A dream come true! (almost, not quite yet). I’m so totally excited about it, and so is he. He’s always wanted to go there too. We will both teach (he biology, me ESL, and then later English/Lit), and live happily ever after.

Well, maybe.

Having lots of love experience is great (and was a lot of fun), but it sure gives you a whole buttload of doubts for all future relationships. I go all 12-step when it comes to love, “One day at a time.” I no longer look at happily ever after, we’ll be in love FOREVER, etc. Now I think, “Wow, this is great, it’s going really well, I really love this guy, good. I hope it lasts.” And I try not to project too far into the future. Well, maybe just a few years. ;)

Anyway, I suspect that this TEENY TINY town I will be moving to in Missouri will pose a significant challenge for me who has always lived in either large cities or sizeable suburbia. I’ve been there several times already, and although it’s a somewhat pleasant place, it’s really not my bag, baby, and I know I will have to really try hard and fight my own prejudices of the “small town.” The last few times I went I felt as if I was being stared at. I guess when you’re an outsider in a very small town, there’s no blending in. Damn it! I’m all about blending in, and have always been (though that was challenging *cough* in Thailand). Blending in in Boondocks, Missouri might just be as tough. I guess it’s not like France where I’d just switch my white shoes to brown, put my hair up, and try to subdue that American exhuberance the Euros spot instantly. I’ll figure it out; I always do.

So now it’s about 1:30am and I’m waiting somewhat impatiently for my man to arrive. He’s currently somewhere in mammoth Pennsylvania, in the disgusting minivan we’ve rented, since there doesn’t seem to be any other way anymore to move cross-country (U-Haul et al has skyrocketed into mind-boggling charges for cross-country or one-way trips). Normally, I spit on a minivan or SUV when it goes by (that’s a LOT of spitting, believe you me!), but this time it’s the only way I can attempt to cram my pathetic life into a mobile space. I have been desperately giving away pounds of books, clothes, cd’s and other wares. Not to mention the large bags of crap I’ve left out on the sidewalk, and in my neighborhood, that stuff disappears before you can even start your stopwatch. At least I know it’s needed.

And in a few days I’ll be out of NYC. A place I always wanted to live, but never wanted to settle in. I have no regrets. I’ve done everything I’ve ever wanted to do – Broadway shows, been to The Daily Show three times, seen every single major tourist attraction (three times atop the Empire State, loved it), eaten in dozens of incredible restaurants (latest was kick-ass Ethiopian), brushed against celebrities (oh Hugh Jackman *swoon*), become a frequent visitor to the glorious Bronx Zoo and infrequent one to Coney Island, and touched down in every single borough (though Staten Island – barely). Two and a half years have gone by and I am satisfied. I would have loved the freedom and opportunities that more money in a big city can provide, but I am not leaving with any major wishes undone.

In just days I’ll be out of this shithole of an apartment with its raging army of cockroaches, ruthless steam heat, and nearby-exit-ramp-unrelenting-traffic-noise. I’ll be doing something I haven’t done in a very long time (live with a guy), and something I have never done (live in a rural area), and I’ll be jobless and broke.

Damn, I’m looking forward to it!