Fancy running into you again; we really must stop meeting like this.
Stifling silent screams.
Swallowing bitter words
Enough for a lifetime.
Fancy running into you again; we really must stop meeting like this.
Stifling silent screams.
Swallowing bitter words
Enough for a lifetime.
I would pay good money to get some stability in my life. Unfortunately, some things you just can’t buy. And the universe seems to enjoy pissing on me lately.
There’s some things you CAN buy though – or at least, that you should be able to. But I cannot find these anywhere in Auckland either!
Latest letdown: Viet Sandwich. I know there are still a couple more banh mi spots I haven’t hit up yet, but to be honest, I’ve hit all the ‘top’ ones that have been most recommended. With the closure of Mi Vietnamese, District 5 is probably my pick of the bunch right now.
Quite frankly, Sette Bello is just about as good as Dante’s (which in turn isn’t quite meeting my standards) and is both cheaper and more convenient to boot.
Big, fat, juicy American burritos. Augh. Mad Mex gets pretty close, I suppose (but you need to pick the right filling). Everyone raves about Flying Burrito Brothers, but I went there on the weekend of my birthday and it was bland and expensive.
I just want a nice, fitted, plain black cardi. Slim, not chunky. Not made of acrylic or polyester or other nasty crap. No frills, no fuss. Apparently this is asking too much. These cardis just aren’t in this season?
Pretty much the same story here. I mean, there are some options, but I think it’s outrageous to charge close to $100 for a pair of ballet flats that aren’t even leather. The prices in NZ!
So that’s my Wednesday whinge. Feel free to get stuff off your chest too.
The other day, I had to talk myself out of booking flights to Niue for next month. I tell ya, at less than $100 each one way, it was a tough call. After all, travel is my weakness.
Niue is one of the destinations on my bucket list, but ultimately it just isn’t the right time. Cheap flights are great, but accommodation is pricey (remote island, whoo! Niue tourism is pretty young still from what I can tell). And I’d like to go in whale watching season, which starts in July.
We already have a Japan trip later this year, T isn’t really in a position to take any time off, June will be busy at my job, and hello, recovering from a financial trainwreck. Niue is fairly close, I often see good package deals and I’m sure there will be more in the future.
But man, sometimes it’s hard to make the smart choice.
Don’t I deserve a break after a nightmare year?
If only life worked that way.
Doesn’t T deserve an awesome, secure, full time job?
Don’t I deserve a decent home to live in after enduring years of terrible rentals?
Hell fucking yes. But this ain’t the movies and people don’t always get what they deserve. (It’s particularly galling when people around us have houses bought for them when/because they only have four grand banked or an unplanned kid on the way. That’s never going to happen for us.)
It goes both ways, too.
Did I really deserve to get paid more per hour to run around and stick up flyers at my first office job, compared to when I typed documents and made up invoices back at the office?
Did I really deserve double pay on weekend shifts at my first editorial job? (God bless unions.)
Did I really deserve not 1, not 2, but 3 dream jobs in a row?
But back to my original point. Much as I’d like to indulge in a tropical getaway right about now, working towards getting into a stable home where we can have a family and pets is way more important. EYES ON THE PRIZE.
When you get right down to it, we all deserve better – a better car, a better house, a better holiday – whatever does it for you. You deserve better. We all do.
That said, we also need to make savvy decisions about what and when we’re going to spend. The timing’s got to be right – otherwise we end up dissolving money in the near term and turning our backs on the opportunities we can take up for the long term.
Wise words, right there. It’s hard to say no, but Future Me will be grateful for it.
Let’s be friends:
Because we all need to let off some steam every once in a while.
I’ve gotten a tad obsessed with fabrics lately (trying to send my eczema back to where it came from) and I’m so freaked out by how even expensive garments are made of this crap. I bought my first silk item recently, and also stumbled across a random silk clothing shop downtown. Alas, it mainly sells weird, hippy, old lady type clothes – but it’s still fascinating to see and feel all the different manifestations of silk.
T has been on a Vodafone plan for years that no longer exists and was really good value (60 minutes, tons of texts, 3GB for about $40 a month). But now 2degrees has come out with some really competitive mobile plans (unlimited calls/texts and 2.5GB of data for $49 a month) and so we switched him over. The last Vodafone bill came through last week – $359. I wish I was kidding. Trying to get to the bottom of that.
I already know the answer to that. I’m so disgusted. And embarrassed by my country.
Anything you want to get off your chest?
Man, I’ve dealt with some BS in my near decade of renting, but this has pushed me over the edge. Did I say agencies are better than private landlords? Whoops. I take that back.
That’s twice now the property manager has been an absolute twat upon moving out.
Last time around, dealing with them was a breeze throughout the entire tenancy … until our last afternoon. It was literally the day before we flew out of the country, leaving for 6 months. We waited, shivering, in our garage, as the rain started coming down, for the PM to show up for final inspection. Numerous calls to his phone went unanswered. Finally we gave up, placed the keys in the house and left. First thing in the morning, he starts trying to get in touch asking what happened – useless much? No, we are literally leaving the country TONIGHT, we do not have time to come back for a walkthrough – you will have to do it without us. We didn’t get our bond back until we returned to NZ, either – he never sent through the paperwork to me and I had to chase him for it when we came back to the country.
This time around, it was with an even bigger (and thus, ostensibly more professional) agency. Alas, they turned out to be douchebags pretty early on, and every time I thought it couldn’t get worse, it kept building until move-out. These guys instruct you to drop off the keys at the office, and then do the final inspection on their own rather than going through the house with you in person. Two days later we heard from them – outlining an absolute litany of basic complaints about cleaning. (The legal requirement is to leave a property ‘reasonably clean and tidy’, which translated to a pretty grey area. However, I can tell you never had an issue at ANY of the many places we’ve lived. We know how to mop a floor and scrub a shower.) They also conveniently ‘forgot’ that they had sold us the fridge upon move-in (for owner had wanted to get rid of it, probably as it was getting older) and more or less accused us of stealing it. Oh, and I’m not even going to go into the dramas they caused in trying to force us to move out earlier than our planned date.
I’ve been thinking a lot about power, and the imbalance of it in the renting market. I’ve already been incredibly stressed out for months on end, and this whole situation with the house has basically doubled my stress levels since the start of the year. I made the decision early on that my priority was getting the hell out of here with as little headache as possible, while knowing the agency was highly likely to make it a hassle based on their behaviour to date.
So often it’s a question of where you can afford the time/money to pursue a conflict. For example, they insisted on going ahead with hiring a cleaner anyway (end result: splitting the bill). As another example: it’s actually unlawful to have a clause in a lease requiring carpet cleaning at the end of the tenancy. However you’ll find these in many, many contracts. I know I have, and gone along with it because in a tight market it’s a miracle if you can get approved for a place at all.
And for bigger stuff … Do you really want to jeopardise your chances of ever getting another place to live, if you take something to the Tenancy Tribunal and have that associated with your name as public record (no matter what the result)?
Cannot wait to be off the renting hamster wheel.
Quite simply, we stink at it.
A colleague mentioned to me the other day that she’d walked past a construction site in Ponsonby, where there used to be a row of townhouses – one of which she’d lived in for a few months.
“What’s happening here?” she asked one of the workers.
“The houses were leaky. They had to knock them all down,” was the reply.
My neighbourhood was one of the early pioneers of denser suburban living, with a few different apartment and townhouse developments. They’re flagships, really, and have been the subject of local housing studies.
I have lived in the two main complexes: in one of the apartments, and in two different townhouses – so three properties in total. All have had, or are going to be, reclad. Yep, leakers, or if you prefer, with “remedial issues”. None felt solidly constructed, built to last. Two out of three were cramped; all of them had a weird layout with bathrooms in the middle of the building, with no outside ventilation. And honestly, I wasn’t a big fan of the demographics they attracted.
I used to hope I could eventually buy around here. It ain’t happening. We have looooong since been priced out. Possibly we could afford a townhouse, but I wouldn’t want to buy a place that I wouldn’t be happy living in – and I already know what it would be like, having been there and done that. Plus, the body corps (and of course you have to take those fees into account!) have rules about everything from pets to hanging out laundry. It really would be the worst of both worlds.
Another new development, more or less around the corner, is in the works. I really hope they get it right. Plan the mixed-use aspects, don’t rush it, and for the love of god deliver quality residential construction and materials. We need to break the vicious cycle we’re in.
There’s been lots of talk about how our generation may be the first to be worse off than that of our parents. I’m fairly certain it’s going to be true in my case, and Christmas really cemented for me how huge that gap is.
I swear, I am going to lose it if I hear one more thing along the lines of how we should just buy a house. For the love of god. Anyone who keeps up with the news knows what’s going on, and the latest round of updated council valuations backs that up. My parents’ property is now worth more than 3x what they paid for it – and that’s just the council valuation, which around here is always less than actual market reality. Have incomes also tripled/quadrupled/etc? No, no they have not. I’m not saying it was easy back then, but it is a hell of a lot harder now. There is no way I will have a paid-off house by my 40s in Auckland.
It was a hard year for me and T, and while our family are experts in Not Talking About Things, it doesn’t take a genius or a mind reader to figure out that we’re still nowhere near a down payment, particularly when I VERY OBVIOUSLY shut down the idea of affording a house every time the topic comes up (which has been constantly since we got back to NZ).
Look, there are some things my parents went through that I will never understand. Leaving home and going to university in a strange new country. Being denied promotion outright because of my skin colour, in the country of my birth. Reaching the point of frustration in my marriage where I’m making inappropriate disclosures to my teenage daughter (that’s what professional therapists are for, guys).
Likewise, they won’t understand the lack of job security today, or what it’s like to enter the workforce during a global financial meltdown. And to be fair, I’m not immune either. A growing part of me sometimes just wants to scream ‘how have you gone on that many interviews yet still don’t have a job? WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?’
Really, I only feel comfortable discussing successes with them, and there haven’t been any of those to report on in a long time. Maybe it’s a terrible reason to avoid my family, but it’s a sanity-saving defence mechanism.
Economics is not my strong suit. Nor can I say I am particularly interested in it. I’m a micro person, not a macro person; a creative trying to get by in a capitalist world.
But even I can’t fail to note that the wealth gap is growing, not shrinking. Yep, even here in little old New Zealand.
I like this dummy proof breakdown:
“New Zealand, which had the developed world’s biggest increase in inequality from the mid-1980s to the mid-2000s, has seen more economic damage than most. According to the OECD’s calculations, our economy grew about 30% in the last two decades – but it would have grown by 45%, or half as much again, if inequality had stayed at 1980s levels.”
Inequality matters. It’s a no-brainer. It’s a drag on the economy, and I think the saying that “you’re only as strong as your weakest link” is perhaps relevant here.
“When families lack the income they need to pay doctors’ fees and keep healthy, or to fix their car so they can travel to a new job, or to give their kids the equipment and clothes they need to succeed at school, it’s obvious that economic growth will suffer. You could argue that these are problems of poverty, not inequality, but really the two are inseparable; the reason some people have so little is that the fruits of economic growth are going largely to our richer citizens.”
As someone who ostensibly belongs to the middle class, occasionally I feel a tremendous sense of guilt that I have it so much better than many other people, and gratitude to be lucky to be where I am. But the other 99% of the time I spend fretting that we’ll never be able to really get ahead.
Bridget at Money After Graduation sums up my feelings perfectly:
“Wealth inequality is a growing, terrifying problem and I don’t want to be on the losing end of the deal. I’d rather we live in a more equal society when it comes to wealth distribution, but so long as we don’t, my singular goal is to get as far away from the bottom as possible.”
When necessities take up more of your income, you may even need to borrow to afford them. I don’t believe in ‘broke yet happy’. I think it’s something people tell themselves in order to feel better. Nice idea – in theory.
So, what are we supposed to do? Same old, I guess. Hustle, hustle, hustle.
A key piece of the inequality puzzle in New Zealand boils down to that most basic of needs: shelter. The way I see it, so much of this hinges on property – stability, security and quality of housing. The status quo is a disaster in financial terms – and in health terms, for renters.
It’s good to see that our go-to economist for all stories on renting vs buying is finally starting to discuss the pragmatic downsides of renting in New Zealand. While the actual quality of rental housing isn’t a talking point (and thus, the problem with mainstream media and the limited perspectives of the typically privileged people within it) he acknowledges New Zealand has some of the most restrictive rules in the developed world for renters.
“New Zealand is strangely different in that we have made this almost special provision around renting of residential property versus other types of renting.” – NZ Herald
“The rental market is designed for students flatters. It is no surprise that it is the young couples with children who are most unhappy.” – Stuff
But the level of chatter around the state of rental housing is growing. Research shows that private rental housing is in worse condition than houses that are owner occupied, however, in a tight market, you have to take what you can get.
“One potential tenant, looking at a property, asked if the holes could be fixed and rodent droppings cleared before she moved in. “[The landlord] said: ‘If you don’t like it, there’s other people that want to live here’.”
Is it any wonder the typical tenancy lasts only just over a year?
Amazingly, here’s a rare mainstream newspaper editorial that hits the nail on the head.
Housing in New Zealand is not only scarce and expensive; for too many people, it is also downright unhealthy.
“Our national housing stock is of poorer quality than most OECD countries. In particular, too many houses are damp and cold – which means they contribute to our grim rates of infectious and respiratory diseases.
This is deplorable in an advanced country, and like our other housing problems, it needs to urgently change.
Extensive work has already been done, so there is no excuse for delay. Most recently, results from a pilot study on 144 rental homes showed 90 per cent failing the warrant. That number needs some qualification – some houses failed for such easily remedied reasons as flat batteries in smoke alarms. But other results were more deeply concerning – like the third of rental properties that lacked any form of fixed heating.
No-one in New Zealand should have to live in a dog of a house.”
In order for renting to life to work you need to be able to save and invest what you’re “saving” by not having a mortgage. The problem is, rents are not going anywhere except up and up.
The prospect of continuing to have to pay rent throughout retirement is scary. I can kinda understand why suicide at 65 starts to look like a pragmatic option.
Recently, an acquaintance posted a photo on Facebook . In it, he and his girlfriend stood on the deck of their new house, all smiles. Of course, like all our other home-owning peers, they only managed this because their parents stumped up cash for their down payment. Heck, if mine offered, I’d swallow my pride and take the offer.
But is this what the future of our country looks like? Only the well off buying homes for their children and passing the privilege of living in a decent property on down the generations, while everyone else remains stuck in cold, damp rentals and suffering all the ill effects that poses?
Surely we can do better than that.
The Disputes Tribunal – essentially small claims court – cannot deal with cases where “someone knows they should do something but simply refuses to (for example, to chase a debt that someone agrees they owe you)”.
Why this sucks: Since T quit Toxic Job, we have been waiting to be reimbursed a couple hundred dollars in expenses. These were incurred on behalf of the company on our personal credit card shortly before he left.
It has now been over four months. We have been constantly following up. There are two bosses; let’s call them Aaron and Ant. Aaron is the sane, decent, normal one, and who unfortunately is/was also the less hands-on one. After initially contacting Ant, T has mostly been emailing Aaron lately – since he is infinitely more reasonable – and Aaron has been apologetic and understanding. Though, let it be observed, not to the point of ACTIONING THE REIMBURSEMENT.
Based on the vibe T is getting from him, and the fact that T’s ex-colleague/buddy (we’ll call him Rich) just interviewed for a job at the competition, it seems like shit is going down over there. Rich is young, a small town boy, a bit of a pushover really, who has put up with Ant for months. So for him to have finally had enough and be looking elsewhere, it must be bad. (On the plus side, since he got the new job and starts in January, it’ll mean no more talk about Toxic Job when he comes around to visit in the future. That was the worst part about the friendship IMO – dwelling on all that drama.)
I have financially written off that money, but I cannot let it go emotionally (though I really should for sanity’s sake) and I refuse to give up on the principle (and T is fully in agreement on that count). Being an asshole and driving away all your staff is one thing; cheating them out of money that they are owed is another.
I’d had the idea in the back of my mind that Disputes Tribunal would be the next step, but apparently it won’t be. The fact that money is owed is not actually in dispute.
I know that unpaid wages would fall under the Employment Relations Authority; I’m assuming money owed for reimbursements would probably be in the same boat. Need to look into this further, but it’s a headache I really do not need right now.
Allrighty, vent over. Any advice gratefully received.
When you go to a Chinese restaurant, the staff speak to you in their language and look disappointed when you can only offer a small shrug and a ‘sorry’. They may offer you forks, and no doubt take note of the fact your white partner uses chopsticks a million times more deftly than you do.
When an elderly Asian person tries to communicate with the bus driver, and fails, the driver casts a meaningful look back at you over his shoulder, and all you can do is offer a small shrug and a ‘sorry’.
When an Asian person comes up to you on the street and (presumably) tries to ask you for directions in their language, and all you can do is offer a small shrug and a ‘sorry’.
When people at work ask if you speak any other languages, clearly hoping that you do, and all you can do is offer a small shrug and a ‘sorry’.
When a white security guard says ‘ni hao’ to you as you walk past, and you don’t know how best to respond.
When people learn your Chinese/legal name and gush about how beautiful it is, and you don’t know how best to respond.
When you open your mouth and someone hearing you for the first time expresses surprise at your total lack of an accent, and you don’t know how best to respond.
I’ve had too many of these incidents happen too close together of late, and I’m tired of feeling apologetic all the damn time. It’s my own problem to deal with, I know; it’s not about malice, it’s about what’s going on inside me and my own identity issues.
I am Chinese by heritage, born in Malaysia, raised in New Zealand. I know more Malay words than I do Chinese, and I am pretty sure I know even more Maori words in total. English is the language we spoke at home – my parents grew up speaking different dialects – and while my dad briefly tried to teach me Mandarin once, I had neither the desire nor inclination to succeed. If it weren’t for, I suppose, external forces, I wouldn’t even care. Maybe in my dotage, like my mother, I’ll feel the urge to reconnect with my birthright and start taking Mandarin classes – but for now, it’s just not on my radar. But being non white in an overwhelmingly white industry makes me feel like I need to be some sort of ambassador or representative at times. But I’m not. I’m an impostor.
I am surrounded by white people for the vast majority of my waking hours. At work. At home. In the media I consume. Sometimes, despite the fact I see myself every day in the mirror, I think I actually forget I’m not white too.