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  • Of occupiers, rugby and oil spills

    Occupy Wall St. Protest in Zucotti Park Octobe...

    Image by emilydickinsonridesabmx via Flickr

    Three quick takes for a Tuesday:

    • Unlike most (but very typical of me) I don’t have a strong opinion about the Occupy movement (which has just reached New Zealand). I don’t believe we have as much cause for complaint here, however – our university and healthcare costs don’t even register in comparison to the US. Our minimum wage is almost liveable and unemployment benefits don’t cut off like they do in America. While it’s been said that the lack of specific demands is actually a bonus to the movement – ie, it’s more inclusive – it’s also a weakness. I was interested by these two links, however: Business Insider’s guide to why people are pissed, and We Are The 1%. (Also, giggled at this.)
    • Perhaps it’s a bit early to call it, but I believe the Rugby World Cup will be ours. We can take France. I didn’t know if we could beat the Wallabies, but there you go – and that, in my completely unfounded opinion, was the big hurdle. I’m actually glad that my plans to go away this weekend will probably not happen (the friend I was to stay with may have to come back to Auckland on Sunday…) because I want to be around for the game and hit up town after victory! It may be a Sunday night final, but the Monday is Labour Day. Nice.
    • The Rena oil spill continues to drag on, and it’s breaking my heart. Look at the images of blackened birds and tell me that we don’t need to reduce our oil reliance. Selfishly, I’m also upset about my summer break – we’re going to the Coromandel over Christmas and New Year’s, and quite frankly, if we won’t be able to swim and fish, it all seems a bit pointless. Down with oil. The beach at the Mount has reopened, though, so that’s hopeful.
  • 100 in ’11: Franzen, Hamilton and Capote

    The Corrections

    The Corrections – Jonathan Franzen

    Summary: Two generations of the Lambert family struggle with the burden of daily life.

    Sounds pretty unexciting, huh? The Corrections was a strange, and strangely compelling read. It seems so ludicrous – from Chip’s job scamming American investors into pouring money in Lithuania by means of a phony website, to Denise sleeping not only with a married woman, but that married woman’s husband as well, or Gary’s cold money-grubbing and his poewr struggle of a marriage to harpy wife Caroline. Then, of course, there’s their parents, Enid and Al, the latter of whom is losing both mental and physical control as Parkinson’s takes over his brain. Ultimately, they are all reunited for one last Christmas together, as per Enid’s wishes, and forced to face the truth about their collective situation. Every single character is hateful, annoying and frustrating (to varying degrees), but there’s something about Franzen’s black humour that kept me reading.

    Blood Bones and Butter

    Blood, Bones and Butter: the education of a reluctant chef – Gabrielle Hamilton

    Summary: An idyllic bohemian childhood abruptly ends with a divorce, the catalyst for young Gabrielle striking out on her own and making a place for herself in the world.

    As you would expect, Hamilton’s memoir is filled with sumptuous memories of food, tied in closely with family. A sense of belonging is something she actively tries to cultivate in an attempt to recreate the memories of her youth prior to her parents’ split – an event that led her to take on dishwashing jobs and eventually move to New York to work in bars and restaurants (one year she pulled in $90,000 working around the clock as an underage waitress, and spent it all on drugs) and catering companies. Eventually, she completes a Masters in literature, but realises that food is where her heart lies, and when the opportunity to open her own restaurant presents itself, she seizes it – despite never having even worked as a restaurant chef before, or having any business experience.

    Hamilton is as talented a writer as she is a chef (she apparently beat Bobby Flay on Iron Chef but had no desire to be on TV). Her no-nonsense take on being a woman in the industry is refreshing, as is her outlook on food (no foams, no pretentious sauces, just genuine, comforting fare that people actually want to eat). For me, though, one of the most intriguing aspects of the book was largely left unresolved – that of her loveless marriage. While she identifies as a lesbian in one chapter and has relationships with women, she ends up marrying an Italian doctor and having two children with him; his south Italian family provide her with some of those roots she yearns for, but it seems a union doomed.

    Other Voices, Other Rooms – Truman Capote

    Summary: A strange coming-of-age tale packed with quirky characters that lacks resolution.

    Other Voices, Other Rooms follows young Joel Knox as he’s packed off to Alabama to live with his father’s family following the death of his mother. His new life is packed with quirky characters: his paralysed father who communicates by throwing balls down the stairs; his long-suffering stepmother; and wacky Cousin Randolph, who drinks too much and likes to dress up as a woman, to name just a few.

    Capote has talent. He was my age when he wrote this. His polished prose seems to sparkle effortlessly and its dreamy quality is beguiling. But at times it verges on the outright bizarre; some of the rambling toward the end of the novel is simply confused (confusing?), the gothic, supernatural elements lead nowhere, nor in fact is there any resolution to be found, whether it’s in regard to Zoo, the bright-eyed young maid, Idabel (aka Harper Lee), his tomboyish neighbour, his bedridden father, or even Cousin Randolph.

     

  • Link love (Powered by meatballs and musketeering)

    So, at some point last month, my three-month trial period passed.

    One of the cons on my mental list about taking the leap to a new job was the 90-day trial. Logically, I knew if I did the work well, I had nothing to worry about. But still.

    Anyway, whatever day it was came and went. I’m still there. Woot.

    I adjust to new situations quickly, and it already feels like I’ve been here forever. Occasionally I miss being able to slap on my headphones and listen to music for my whole weekend shift, but realistically, I was always being interrupted by the phone. I’ve learned that writing all day definitely makes me less inclined to do so after hours (ie, less blogging). I’ve accepted I don’t have much of a design eye and realised the power of InDesign (things I would have thought were done in Photoshop are in fact InDesigned), that my to-do list will no longer be essentially wiped clean at the end of every day, despaired at bad PR (and appreciated good pitches), and been annoyed countless times by those stickers on advance review copies of books (completely ruining any possibility of either a) using them for giveaway prizes and b) regifting them).

    Before I get started, thanks Boomer and Echo for hosting this week’s Carnival of Personal Finance. I’m in there, obvs.

    This week’s links:

    Does being content mean putting limitations on yourself? Fiscally Chic blogs about balancing epic and ‘enough’, at Makeunder My Life.

    Well Heeled lists some of the expenses we most like to judge other people on.

    Getting a second job to pay down debt is worth more than just the wage, reckon Nicole/Maggie.

    When is it time to quit? April at Get Rich Slowly offers some suggestions.

    Sandy at First Gen American ponders the meaning of feminism.

    Red shares her weight-loss strategies and how she plans to keep the kilos off.

    Stephany voices her constant niggling fears – the first step in facing up to them.

    Kommein’s Deb on fearlessness and why she prefers to be afraid.

    At Cordelia Calls it Quits, Deena reminds us that it’s never too late to start anything.

    And lastly – slightly random but worth it – a look at the truly fantastic Steve Jobs edition of Bloomberg Businessweek, via Subtraction.

  • A rough stab at a 7-year plan

    Venice-11

    Image by musical photo man via Flickr

    I’m not getting any younger. Really. At 23, I have plenty of good years left, but unless I actively take steps to make my dreams happen, they’re going to stay dreams and nothing more.

    While the traditional Kiwi way is to pack your bags and head abroad for an extended period without a backwards glance, knowing myself and knowing T, I think the original plan of splitting up trips – while more expensive – will be much more enjoyable for the both of us. (Plus, if we had to quit our jobs to travel for a year, any savings could well be negated if we have trouble finding new employment.)

    So the current problem vexing me is: where to go for a honeymoon? (Yes. The ultimate first world problem.)

    I mentioned that Greece and Italy was our first choice. But given the cost of flying halfway around the world, it seems silly not to fit in more stops. Why not make our entire Europe trip our honeymoon? Yes, there will be some backpacking and roughing it a little, but if we can end (and maybe start) with some nice lodgings, I’m okay with that.

    And so, a plan. I need a plan. Plans keep me on track. Sitting down and mapping it all out makes everything feel achievable.

    2012 – our 24th year

    Possibly our South Island road trip. Also keen to fit in a skiing trip to Queentown.

    2013 – our 25th year

    Europe

    • London (and maybe Ireland)
    • France
    • The Netherlands
    • Germany
    • Italy
    • Greece

    At this stage, I’m hazarding a month and $10,000. Need to research.

    2014 – 26th year

    US road trip, hopefully starting in Vancouver before heading down the west coast, stopping in the South, and up the east coast.

    Ditto as above with time and cost.

    2015 – our 27th year

    Asia! Vietnam, Thailand, Malaysia, Singapore, Hong Kong, Macau.

    Not a clue. 3-4 weeks, possibly. This should be less expensive as flights are shorter and cheaper, and Vietnam and Thailand should help bring overall costs down.

    That leaves us 2016, 2017 and 2018 till 30. In that period I’d like to save at least $50k for a down payment.

    Right now, I have enough in my travel fund for a major trip. I just don’t have the leave at my new job. So the plan is to hunker down, save even more for future trips and accumulate holiday time. It hurts a bit to see the timeline pushed out, but patience is a virtue, correct?

    Financially, I think this is doable; putting it in black and white – even with the roughest of estimates, number-wise – gives me something to refer to and work from going forward.

     

  • 100 in ’11: McCafferty, Bender and Shriver

    The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake – Aimee Bender

    Summary: An unhappy suburban family starts to unravel, as told by their precocious young daughter, who can taste the cook’s emotions through food.

    I’m told Bender is a superb short story writer. I was hooked on the first page thanks to a throwaway line about ingredients lined up for baking on a counter – “butter blurring at the edges”. Just beautiful. Unfortunately, what started out as a promising book lost its way in a spectacular fashion.

    While Bender’s prose is exquisite, its also wholly unconvincing from the narrative viewpoint of a nine-year-old. Overnight, Rose’s life is altered when she discovers she can taste in every meal the feelings of the person who made it. And unfortunately, we are all far less happy than we outwardly project. Eating is essentially ruined for Rose, and she switches to a diet of packaged, processed food as much as possible – the only food she can stomach is the sandwiches made by her best friend’s parents, compiled with love and a caring hand. Meanwhile, her distant parents and brother continue to grow further apart, with particularly devastating consequences once her sibling’s own supernatural secret is revealed. And that is when the story descends into the realm of sheer madness and pure WTF-ery. Avoid, avoid, avoid.

    Bumped – Megan McCafferty

    Summary: Madness reigns in an alternate future where only teenagers can reproduce thanks to a potent virus, including two twin sisters struggling to find their place in this sexually-charged society.

    Harmony and Melody are beautiful, intelligent, talented and all around perfect twins separated at birth; Harmony was raised in a strict Christian community and comes looking for Melody in an effort to save her soul and convince her to return to her town and live in purity with her. Meanwhile, Melody grew up with academic parents who have dollar signs in their eyes and have groomed her to become a lucrative breeding machine given her desirable traits. But at 16 – just two years from infertility – her agent has yet to find her a boy to ‘bump’ with. Just as Harmony shows up on the scene, however, a deal is stuck with superstar reproducer Jondoe – and a mistaken-identity caper ensues.

    Megan McCafferty has my eternal admiration as the creator of the Jessica Darling books. Bumped is very different in subject matter, but
    her talent for wordplay continues to shine through with no shortage of intentionally hilarious acronyms and slang (although the sheer number of  made-up terms she drops is excessive and somewhat grating). I wasn’t a fan of the open-ended ending, either, but it seems there’s a sequel in the works, so that, in my eyes, is forgivable.

    So Much For That – Lionel Shriver

    Summary: Shep Knacker’s dream of retiring to the Third World is torn to shreds when his wife Glynis reveals she has cancer, and needs him to stay put for health insurance purposes.

    There is so much going on in this novel, it’s hard to know where to start. Everybody is unhappy and browbeaten and tough to like, from single-minded Shep who allows everyone from Glynis – who refuses to buy into his dream – to the useless Randy, to whom he sold the company he built from the ground up, and is now driving back into nothing, to walk over him. His mooching artist sister Beryl. His similarly dependent daughter Amelia. His withdrawn son Zach. His best friend Jackson, who seems to have inferior man syndrome (and oh, the action he takes in an effort to remedy that…) and rails on about the failures of government and capitalism to anyone who’ll listen.  And of course, prickly, lost Glynis herself, whose worst qualities are only brought out by her cancer.

    I adore Shriver’s ambition and intensity, although her tendency to ramble on and propensity for long-winded, far-fetched dialogue detracts somewhat from the overall effect. The novel shines in depicting modern misery, in the nuances of marriages and relationships, particularly in relation to illness, and of course an indictment of the American healthcare industry, driven home by the simple device of starting each new chapter with Shep’s latest Merrill Lynch account balance. Meanwhile, it also tackles the dichotomy of moochers vs mugs – those who game the system, and those who play by the rules (guess who wins and who loses?). That’s largely delivered through Jackson’s monologues – subtle as a hammer – but also simply through Shep’s support of everybody around him. Thankfully, the end is most satisfying, despite him depleting his life savings to prolong Glynis’ existence. Worth a read.

  • On friendships, inspiration and loyalty

    Friendship, especially as you enter adulthood, is a strange beast. In my case, my main social group still largely consists of old friends who will always be friends. However, that dynamic is shifting as we have less and less in common. And in some cases, they’re more important to me than I am to them because my circle is smaller. At the same time, newer friendships, at least for me, are not as deep as those I formed in my oh-so-formative teen years.

    The ever-fabulous Sarah of Yes and Yes posted on the concept of a friendship detox not long ago. I LOVE the idea. It goes something like: true friends are the ones who would seek you out should you delete your Facebook account, not respond to texts, basically fall off the face of the modern earth. (Again, not speaking for anybody else, but the number of people I can confidently say yes to on that count is uncomfortably low.)

    The other point brought up was the need to surround yourself with uplifting people. In other words, friends who support and encourage you, act as role models and basically inspire you with their presence.

    I’m lucky enough to be surrounded by incredibly intelligent and talented people both professionally and personally. I do have a couple of friends who still haven’t found their groove, and that’s fine too. So it goes, I guess – you have friends at a similar level, some achieving at a higher one, and a few who look up to you. The golden mean at work.

    What happens when that rule is upset and the balance thrown off, though? I suppose I’m fortunate in that I like T’s friends. But it’s always seemed to me, in almost all cases, a friendship not of equals. From my point of view, his closest buds take more than they give and always seem to be needing rides somewhere or to borrow a few bucks. I laughed when he recently told one of them that the reason I don’t like hanging out with their particular group is because they’re dropkicks. It’s true – I don’t have the patience to tolerate them for long – they’re entertaining, but quite frankly, dumb as wallpaper.

    I hit him up about that – because it occurred to me that not only is he almost entirely surrounded by no-hopers at work (the type who are content with a pretty basic lot in life and are unlikely to go anywhere) but in general. By the way, hinting that someone could do better friend-wise is way more awkward than hinting they could do better romantically.

    His response was thought-provoking, to say the least. Those friends are loyal. They reply to texts straightaway. They don’t have much but are generous with what they have when they have it (it’s always feast or famine on payday). They make good sidekicks, I suppose, and maybe it’s nice to feel like you have your life more together than someone else.

    And they understand his family. Being cut from the same class cloth, they aren’t fazed by the inevitable drunken ugliness that ends every family occasion that we’re obliged to attend. It’s all familiar ground to them. Unlike classier, more accomplished friends, who wouldn’t bother coming to the next one, having been scared off.

    (Although I probably wouldn’t bother with his family either if I didn’t have to – and is that reason enough to write me off? – I know what he means about those friends; they’re more good-time acquaintances now than real friends, whose lives have drifted far from the axis of ours.)

    It seems to me too, that sometimes male friendship ebbs and flows. Friends he used to spend a lot of time with he rarely sees now, partly because we don’t live in the same neighbourhood, and partly because they’ve taken to more expensive pastimes like trips away for skiing and fishing. Although on second thought, that’s probably equally applicable to female friendship.

    Can you thrive without friends who inspire you, or can you derive it from other sources? To what extent do friends define you?

  • Groceries, glorious groceries…

    So… it’s been a little while since I last posted a grocery haul. Keeping grocery spending in check is something I’m really trying to tamp down on, and we’ve been doing really well on that front. This month we’ve stayed under budget every week! Behold, last week’s buys:

    $13.00 – Eight litres of milk
    $3.99 – A block of butter
    $5.99 – A tub of Collective Dairy yoghurt (our splurge)
    $4.59 – Three fresh “Bush Tomato” sausages
    $5.65 – 160g of fresh mozzarella
    $6.57 – 120g of St Paulin cheese
    $17.99- Whole cornfed chicken
    $7.52 – Half a kilo of rump steak
    $6.59 – 250g of pork schnitzel
    $3.20 – 1.2kg bananas
    $5.00 – Two bunches asparagus
    $1.76 – Five onions
    $7.00 – Two punnets of mushrooms
    $2.20 – One head garlic
    $1.99 – One red capcisum

    (From Nosh, no less.)

    And that all comes down to how our shopping and eating habits have changed. We rarely ever buy readymade and frozen items. We’re eating more vegetables, less meat, and I’m making food stretch further and cooking more from scratch. We still have dessert almost every day, but more often than not it’s something that I’ve baked. (Yeah, I spend a lot of time thinking about, making and consuming food, but that’s totally, more than, okay with me.)

    So even though we have to buy expensive lightbulbs due to the fittings in our house, and even though we’re buying more quality foods – think better cheeses in small quantities, and cooking with olive oil – T commented that we don’t seem to be purchasing all that much anymore, or blowing out our budget.

    In fact, we’re even shopping at Nosh more often – once a month or so. Nosh weeks mean buying only the best. Their produce is great and affordable thanks to great sales – we’ve been lucky timing-wise so far. The meat is pricey (though not much more than at, say, Countdown) but organic and of outstanding quality, so we buy small amounts and do more with it. Ditto with the cheese – and the staff actually know their stuff and can recommend types. And the Ponsonby store, at least, seems to do 4 litres of milk for $6.50 regularly, so as long as we have a good stock of staples at home, we can get everything we need there. Bonus: no huge aisle of sweet treats or ice cream freezer to tempt us.

    It’s safe to say I won’t be giving any business to supermarkets like Countdown or New World unless I absolutely have to (eg, picking up emergency supplies on the way home). I might as well go to Nosh and get everything else at Pak n’ Save for rock bottom prices. Oh, how I love being central to everything…

  • Here, there and everywhere

    A collection of photos from the last few months:

    Ice cream at Ollies in Royal Oak:

    Spotted by Grafton Bridge:

    Wellington snapshots:

    Wellington city

    The stylin’ new Auckland Art Gallery:

    Lunch at the “VIP Restaurant” above the Seafood Market. Ostensibly Korean. But really sushi, seafood, salads, and token fried rice, sweet and sour chicken, and the like.

  • Link love (Powered by rain and mixed fortunes)

    I could get used to cruising around on a motorbike. It’s still terrifying cornering sometimes (even as a passenger), tackling steep hills (either ascending or descending), and it’s a pain carrying round helmets with you afterward.

    But there’s nothing like easy parking, or the sheer feeling of being alive that comes with roaring down the motorway and feeling the full force of speed and wind against your body.

    While initially I was sceptical – call me a granny, but I am inherently opposed to anything with only two wheels; while a scooter might be an efficient way to get around, you’ll never find me on one – I might just get used to riding around on the back of the boy’s.

    So that’s been my weekend so far. How about you?

    Meanwhile, here are a few links from this week:

    Why some of us don’t have one true calling, courtesy of Illuminated Mind.

    Maggie asks: How do I measure success as an entrepreneur?

    Great resources for freelance writers, via Urban Muse.

    Passive Panda offers up a guest post complete with handy tips for making a freelance hustle work.

    Amazing. How to procrastinate and still get things done, at The Chronicle.

    And finally, struggling to find time to read? Here’s how to fit it in, according to Zen Habits.

  • Thank you, Steve Jobs

    Every so often, you get a little too settled, a little too comfortable, a little too complacent in life.

    You need a little electric shock to shake you out of it and to refocus your gaze from the road immediately ahead, to the bigger picture.

    I got that jolt this week.

    Thank you, Steve Jobs.

    You know, the first computer I ever remember using was a Macintosh.

    Nonetheless, after we moved to New Zealand, my family never owned anything but PCs. I grew up a PC girl. I owned an iPod, briefly, but didn’t use it all that much. I do use a crappy old MacBook at the office, and a work-issued iPhone. I’ve never purchased an Apple product, and I’m unlikely to do so anytime in the near future.

    Nonetheless, I have immense respect for Apple. Apple is a truly design-led company and makes beautiful, functional products (even if I won’t pay their premium). And Steve Jobs’ story is one of the most inspiring out there. On paper, this was a man who had nothing going for him. Yet this week a world mourned his passing.

    I teared up watching his 2005 Stanford speech as I pulled together coverage of his death at work this week, and again browsing through photos of him in his thick-haired, hippie prime, glowing with health – comparing it to the image I have of the lean, greying middle-aged man from the past few years.

    Like most intensely-driven people,  his work was his life.

    “The only way to be truly satisfied is to do what you believe is great work. And the only way to do great work is to love what you do. If you haven’t found it yet, keep looking. Don’t settle. As with all matters of the heart, you’ll know when you find it.”

    Is this like an orgasm? Will I really, truly, know?  This is something I struggle with.

    Maybe I’m a little more pragmatic. I say no to the soul-sucking job. But I also say no to starving with artistic integrity. My fear of destitution vastly outweighs my fear of personal unfulfilment. Thankfully, I have a more-than-happy middle ground, for which I feel extremely lucky.

    Maybe one day a project that burns me up will manifest itself in my life. Or maybe what serves as an all-consuming passion for Jobs and countless other entrepreneurs is simply a steady, comfortable hum for me.I don’t know.

    But I do agree wholeheartedly with this:

    “Your time is limited, so don’t waste it living someone else’s life.”

    And my favourite quote of all:

    “You can’t connect the dots looking forward; you can only connect them looking backwards. So you have to trust that the dots will somehow connect in your future.”

    Trust that it will all work out. Words to live by.

    Am I living the life I want to live? Yes. But I can do better. You can always do better. And I have to keep striving to knock those goals off my bucket list.

    How about you?