rant | NZ Muse

May 24, 2012

Cows and milk, birds and bees, living in sin

Never say this to your daughter

A few months ago, my mother asked me if I was pregnant.

This is precisely why I do not wear ANYTHING empire waisted. That particular dress, I normally wear belted. But good to know it can double as maternity wear when the time comes, huh?

I can’t remember a more awkward moment in this vein since, back in high school, she persuaded my cousin to email me a long diatribe about boys, girls, and getting the milk for free. Or however that goes. (I know Mum was behind this. Trust me.)

Seriously. I was probably 15 at the time. Guess she hoped to get me early.

That whole thing about cows and milk? Words can’t express how much I despise this trope. It essentially implies that men only want women for sex. Like there’s no other reason a guy would ever want to marry a woman. (While no doubt this is true for some, it would be a huge mistake to tar all mankind with the same brush. Those are definitely not the kind of dudes you want to be marrying.)

While the intent is all well and good – protecting the honour of your sisters and daughters – this is incredibly demeaning to women. And actually, it’s rather harsh on men, too. Let’s give them some credit. Not all of them think with their junk 24/7.

It’s also obviously patently untrue. How many couples do you know that have lived together then gone on to tie the knot?

Oh, and I was at a comedy show just the other night where another audience in a couple turned out to be newlyweds (2 years) but had been living together for 16 years before that. (I haven’t exactly been lighting a firecracker under our wedding plans, but we won’t be getting to that kind of ballpark, at least.)

Course, cohabiting is not always all it’s cracked up to be. I wouldn’t swap it for anything, but it’s definitely not a painless thing for us. Our story is much more like this than it is this.

There’ve been a couple of good pieces in the NY Times recently on this exact topic: this one points out that more and more professional types are maintaining separate dwellings and this one the fact that often we drift into cohabiting rather than making a clear-cut, conscious decision to. And as a result, “couples who cohabit before marriage (and especially before an engagement or an otherwise clear commitment) tend to be less satisfied with their marriages — and more likely to divorce — than couples who do not”.

While we kind of slid into moving in together for practical reasons (in fact, before I was really ready), thankfully, it’s worked out (after all, disentangling your relationship is infinitely more difficult when you physically live together and have mingled other aspects of your lives). Given how different we are, I think moving in together for the first time as newlyweds would have been disastrous.

There’s the argument that cohabiting makes getting married less special. I can understand that. As it relates to us, I don’t buy it, but marriage means different things to different people (to me, it’s a new level of emotional reaffirmation/commitment).

Was I going somewhere with this?

Basically: live together or don’t – whatever. It’s not a one size fits all kind of thing. But the sooner that ‘buying the cow’ phrase disappears, the better.

Do you hate that saying? Or think it stands true? (I have friends who don’t support gay marriage; I can deal with differences of opinion. Outwardly, at least.)

January 4, 2012

Delay and pay

Image via Wikipedia

Have I mentioned that I’m engaged to the biggest procrastinator on earth?

Whatever doesn’t need to be done today, he will put off until tomorrow. Which is pretty much everything outside of work. If he has two chores to attend to this week, it will be a struggle to get him to do ONE today and almost as much to get him to do the other task tomorrow.

And did I mention that I am always right?

May be something to do with being a woman. Or just my intuition. Or simply practicality and knowing how the cruel world works.

I wanted to go to Hot Water Beach these holidays – the one thing I really wanted to do in the Coromandel. Instead of going there on the way to Whitianga – when low tide was at a decent hour – he insisted on stopping by on the way home.

We got there in the end. And it was crap. For one, the weather was miserable. For another, his right arm was more or less out of action from the elbow down thanks to someone slamming into him in the pit at Coro Gold. And low tide by then was at 7.30pm. We got there as early as possible – 5.30 – to stake out our spot. And even then, it was PACKED. People squished in shoulder to shoulder, shivering in the wind, digging their toes into the hot sand, waiting patiently for the waves to recede so they could dig themselves a hot spa (some have NO manners at all. In my world, first come, first served still stands. Not so, apparently). Idiots were attempting to dig even as the tide continued to lap up against the rocks, washing away their work – and effectively ruining that spot of sand for the day, leeching away the hot spring heat. We ended up leaving after less than an hour. A word of advice – go with the biggest crowd you can find. You’ll need it to a) secure your real estate and b) do the heavy digging.

THEN he refused to go to the ED once we got back to Auckland about 8.30pm, insisting his arm wasn’t broken, and it would be fine.

Three days later, the day before we were both due back at work, the tingling finally got the best of him and off to the hospital we went. (First, he insisted on doing some Googling. Which invariably led to possible diagnoses of imminent paralysis.) Four hours later, we came out with a medical certificate and diagnosis of damage to the radial nerve. Now it’s a case of wait and see and hope it’s nothing too permanent. (To be fair, going in earlier would probably not have done much, but it definitely wouldn’t have hurt.)

What have you put off and regretted?

September 3, 2011

Will something better come along, or is this as good as it gets?

If only...Image via Wikipedia

This week, we viewed our first prospective new home since our rent went up and we started tentatively looking at what was out there.

Of course, it’s rare that a place lives up to the promise. The shower was far too small and low for T, the outside was positively peeling and dilapidated (I’m fine with a less than pristine exterior, but this was going a bit far) and quite significantly, the landlord came across as somewhat of a douchebag.

The key things we do like would be having a garage and a bit of garden (yes, for under $300 a week!) and a decent sized kitchen. It’s one of two split units in an old villa/bungalow, with a third detached unit out back. The location is great and the street seems nice enough. I spend the majority of my time at work, so I want to live close to the office (logical, right?). This would be walking distance. (T is pretty much always going to have a long commute; the industrial areas are all out south and a highway hike away – and we would never, ever live in south Auckland.)

The other attraction was the lack of letting fee – the landlord manages the property himself. He also, unfortunately, came across as a wanker, rushing us through the interior, attempting to scare every prospect into applying on the spot by touting the number of views on the TradeMe listing and going on about how in his decades of experience, the market is the tightest it’s been in years. That MIGHT have something to do with the Rugby World Cup, the biggest event Auckland has hosted in a long time. He also saw fit to deliver a lecture on how we should always come to viewings prepared with references and information to wow property managers. Mmmhmmm. I am aware of this. Perhaps the reason we weren’t jumping to sign on the spot was more due to doubts about the place?

Don’t even get me started on the application form. Blurry and obviously photocopied too many times, it goes beyond any agency form I’ve ever filled out. Three character references in addition to previous tenancies, work and income info, and vehicle details? Not only that, it asks not for their contact details, but for references to be “attached”. Nobody gives written references these days; those died with personal cheques. Stuck in the past century much?

So I’m torn. Do I bother filling out the application form, not being entirely sold on it – and knowing competition is likely to be fierce? T likes it well enough, but doesn’t love it (as I say, he’d much rather live way further west, unlike me. Compromising on location is proving tough). He’s really eager to move out, but I just know that having to crouch to get under that showerhead – which doesn’t even have adjustable pressure – every day is going to get old.

Can I picture us living there? Well, we’ve lived so many places that anywhere can feel like home, really; that’s not a good test for me.

Really, it comes down to that age old dilemma – get in quick, or wait for the ‘perfect place’ which may never emerge.

What do you most value in a place to live – proximity to work, friends, amenities, bars and clubs and cafes? Outdoor living, kitchen, storage space?

June 30, 2011

It all started with an iPhone (Or, why mixing family and money only leads to dramas)

Image by Ricky Romero via Flickr

As you may have inferred from this post, among others, T and I are from different sides of the tracks. It became obvious early on that family and money issues would probably be our biggest ones and if any the ones that could break us. (Initially, I wished they were my family. That was shortly after I first moved out and was still not on great terms with my family. But I’ve come to realise that demonstrativeness and liberalness are not more important than security and stability – in fact they might be less so. I am at least grateful to my parents for setting responsible examples and being good providers despite their shortcomings.)

I will not hesitate to call off the wedding if it becomes apparent that T is bent on a path to financial destruction by continuing to help out family who can’t help themselves. But I have good reason to believe he’s not. He is, to my shame, unabashedly materialistic. Remember when we were robbed (never ever forget to lock up, people)? I didn’t tell anyone because I was so humiliated. He preferred to brag about our new and slightly bigger TV. *rolls eyes*. He wants an iPhone, a motorbike, a project car…he wants all those toys and he wants them NOW. And letting family bleed him dry is not going to help him achieve that.

We agreed we had to pay this bill, because it’s his name and his credit at stake (there goes about a quarter of his savings). She says she’ll pay him back, but who knows whether that will happen. T says he doesn’t want to have this come between him and his sister…as if her idiotic actions hadn’t already seen to that. I still don’t know where her $450 went; it went to Telecom, but not to the correct account. Who knows, who cares – it’s not worth our time and trouble trying to chase that up or, more accurately, chase her to sort it out. The problem of course is broke people often move around a lot. And if they’re irresponsible, sometimes companies don’t always know their latest address. So all these debt collection letters have been going to the wrong house.

It was extremely hard for me to deal with from the sidelines. I went from putting my foot down (“this will NEVER happen again” – to which he said the only person he would ever do this for is his mother – who doesn’t exactly have stellar credit either – because, he says, she at least has a decent head on her shoulders and pays bills on time) to a more gentle “I hope you’ll talk to me if anyone ever asks you again” to which he said I’ll just say hell no (Much better. ) Like I say, he really has made every financial mistake and I think once in this case is enough, especially given the public humiliation PLUS all the subsequent drama with Vodafone bureaucracy and trying to get the damn iPhone. Which he finally has, along with an assurance the the first month will be waived. (Ironically, I’m still waiting on my work phone).

T is increasingly getting frustrated with his sister, and has had strong words to her more than once recently, apparently telling her that enough is enough from him after this latest debacle. It is hard when there are kids involved. And of course they will always be taken care of. But ultimately nobody will put us first except, well, us.

Five years from now it will roll off his record, and in five years we’ll be 28 and probably only just scraping together a down payment in this overpriced city. I’d much rather this have happened now, than later on.

June 15, 2011

Your credit is like your virginity

Image via Wikipedia

…easier to preserve than to rebuild.

Kids, we all know you should never cosign on anything. You do not want your name on any account that you are not personally paying for.

Well, some people learn lessons the hard way. Like when they finally talk their fiancee into letting them get an iPhone. And then get turned down for an unexplained mark on your credit record. Huh? Well, it could only be that internet account you put your name on at the request of your sister (remembering folks, that if such people had decent credit themselves, they wouldn’t need to ask such a thing of you).

I just knew when he came home last year and told me what he’d done that it wouldn’t end well. But by then the decision had been made and I couldn’t do anything about it, and soon I had other things to worry about. I hope now that he’s made pretty much every mistake in the book, that the shame of that denial under the harsh fluoro store lights will be enough to make him remember to never never take responsibility for anyone else’s accounts in future. It baffles me how someone who has no problems putting his interests first in the business world cannot say no to his family. (Or that they don’t turn more often instead to his brother who has more cash, yet blows it all on cars.)

Have you ever made the mistake of letting someone else use your good name? How did it work out?

June 14, 2011

How not to roll out an integrated ticketing bus system

Thought Hop was going to be the saviour of Auckland’s abysmal public transport? Yeah, I’d hoped so too. But it has proved in my experience an undeniable failure.

First, Snapper came to Auckland. (I’m still not quite sure what the point of it is. I get that it powers the Hop bus card system, but as for using Snapper at shops? Don’t we already have eftpos and credit cards?) Then right on its heels, there came murmurs of something called Hop. Nobody knew what on earth it was. As posters went up,a vague YouTube video emerged and an almost equally vague news story was printed, we came to learn that it was the start of an integrated public transport system.

Pity about the communication. What we really needed were some short, clear FAQs, not teasers. I believe their Comms person was quoted as saying there had been plenty of confusion on “message boards” and the team needed to clear it up. No shit. Pity, again, that it took them weeks to get on social media and rectify the damage that had already been done.

Okay, so the launch was a disaster. What about the execution?

Last weekend I went down to Britomart on my lunch break to do three things. A) Get my Hop card. B) Transfer my balance from my Go Rider card onto it. C) Top up my new Hop card at the same time.

(Hint – I did not accomplish all of the above.)

As soon as I reached the front of the line, their systems went down. Okay, I can kind of sympathise; I know what it’s like to work with slow, unreliable and outdated technology on a daily basis. But they have no idea when it’s going to be back? And there is NOWHERE ELSE in the CBD where we can get a balance transfer?

Okay, fine. I only have one ride left to transfer anyway; I’ll eat the $1.50 cost. Just put my 10 new rides on and let me be done with it.

What’s that? You don’t take Visa? What is this, 1911? I have always used my credit card to top up my bus card- this better not be a sign of things to come (suppose I’ll find out when I next top up my card). Off I trot to the ATM, where I have to withdraw $20 as I can’t take out $15.

I march back up to the front of the line approximately three minutes later. She doesn’t give me my change. Turns out she put on $20 credit, instead of 10 rides at $15. Cue more delays as she sorts out the mess.

I get back to the office and decide to check online where my nearest Hop retailer is so I can top up the following week. I am even more enraged, if possible, to read this:

Note: Britomart, Newmarket and New Lynn Transport Centres now accept credit card payments.

No, it effing well did not. DON’T LIE TO ME.

And I’m pretty close to full on meltdown to find there is only one Hop agent anywhere near my house and it’s the opposite direction from my bus stop/new office.

Later on it turns out it’s fine; there are plenty of Snapper retailers around that just aren’t listed on the Hop site yet.

But that’s not the end of it. I went back to Britomart this weekend to top up. I did so using my Visa. But by today, that balance was still “pending”, leaving me with no choice but to pay cash to get to work. Also, when I attempted to put more rides on my card at St Lukes Lotto, I was told that rides can no longer be purchased at all, only e-money. Obviously Hop is not only failing to communicate with customers, but with retailers – but when you’re a monopoly, who cares about either? I’ve tried to communicate with Hop a few times on Twitter to clarify certain issues but have not found them particularly helpful or forthcoming. (As for why I’m sticking with rides, not e-money, it’s because all factors being equal, why would I use the method which charges me 25c for every topup?)

What a clusterf***. Typical Auckland.

UPDATE: Apparently only a certain booth at Britomart accepts CC payments. Oh, and you can’t have more than 20 rides on your Hop card at the time. More WTF-ery.

January 6, 2011

Net worth, weddings and other contentious issues. And people who need to STFU

Something has been irking me of late. I’ve noticed it almost exclusively in the personal finance blogosphere. This is possibly because by its very nature, money is a polarising topic. (Hence why many write anonymously.) This invites, whether we like it or not, judgement from others. Or maybe it’s simply because it’s a niche I spend so much time reading. Who knows?

Serendipity summed up much of what I have to say in this recent post. But I have a little more to add.

I’m lucky to have awesome readers. I can count on one hand the number of trolly commenters I’ve had on my money posts. Others… well.

Weddings

Swear to God, almost every wedding post I read makes me less keen on having one. Especially when the bar subject comes up. Open bar? No? What a cheapskate! Who do you think you are??

Weddings are not about you, the guest. It’s about the couple. Their union. If the provision or lack thereof of free alcohol is such a big deal, then RETHINK WHY YOU’RE ATTENDING. Cheap? Cheap would be not serving food. Or not playing music at all.

If you think it’s tacky, just don’t be a total ass about voicing your opinion. It’s when you suggest maybe cutting back in other areas so guests can have free booze…that’s overstepping the line. This is not your wedding. You don’t know the couple’s priorities. You don’t know if music, or amazing video, or a live band is more important to them. Piss off.

Net worth

Quick backstory: Fig, in a very honest and slightly downhearted net worth update, confessed to sometimes feeling discouraged at her lack of progress in comparison to some (no fingers pointed or names named, just a frank statement).

FB, in her own net worth update, wondered if she should stop sharing hers. Although I did not follow the debate, I’m going to make a statement here. Apparently a bunch of people jumped on the slagging bandwagon and tore into…well, you can imagine what was said. This was not Fig’s problem or FB’s problem. Blogging is (or should be) a safe place to share. It is the snarky, smartass readers who form a lynch mob and turn near feral who are/have the problem.

I didn’t read the comments. I refuse to. I am always amazed at how rude some people can be on the web, and if I can avoid being disappointed once again in the human race, then I’ll snap up the opportunity.

Assuming you are not some kind of millionaire, can you honestly – in your heart of hearts – say you never feel slightly disheartened when you see others with net worths many, many times larger than yours? That you never compare yourself and come up short?

If so, then you’re a better person than me. In fact, that makes you a perfect human being. Congratulations.

Actually, no. That’s not quite accurate. To earn the title of “perfect”, you would be actually encouraging others, rather than ripping them to shreds without a second thought.

And more generally…

There are many, many bloggers out there on a quest to become debt-free, and are doing incredible things to get there. But they are human. They have emergencies that derail them. They need the occasional break, the occasional splurge. It’s about dedication, not deprivation. It’s only healthy. Again, as above – are you walking the walk yourself, every single day, never ever ever veering off the path? If not, then STFU.

We bloggers are, by nature, a reflective lot. When we write about and acknowledge our mistakes, we’re taking the first steps toward rectifying them. Your bashing there can be never be helpful.

This is not to say you should never voice a dissenting opinion. In fact, I sometimes think people are TOO sensitive about comments. A misconstrued word. A new reader who lacks background knowledge. Etc.

Haters will hate. But for the love of God, try to couch your critical comments constructively. If you’re genuine about wanting to help, take a little time to think about how you phrase it – we’re much more likely to take it on board. And have the balls to put your name to it.

I move that douchebag Anon comments should hereby be rejected. Who’s with me?

November 16, 2010

Overshadowed

Image via Wikipedia

Every so often the possibility of spending some time in Australia rears its head in conversation. (Edited to add: And talk about timing – yesterday I found out a friend is moving to Perth this month…)

As Dita De Boni points out, “Both my sisters live across the ditch and seem to have a never-ending array of incentives to lie back and think of the country’s future tax payers.”

It’s so true. The $5k-plus baby bonus (I suppose that would sweeten the agony of labour?). And apparently T’s aunts get lump sums for their kids at Christmas.

Add to that 9 per cent super and warmer weather, and no wonder so many Kiwis have made the leap.

Then again, cars are expensive over there. And working in the mines does not appeal. (Of course, there are plenty of nonlabour jobs too, but mining and trucking are where the demand seems to be.) T hates the heat, and Australia in general – he takes pride in assuring me they really are as rude as people say. (Amanda, however, was lovely in person!)

I kind of hate myself for even writing this, because I’m quite honestly exhausted with the NZ/Australia debate. Sick of surveys and colour pieces on those who’ve defected; sick of business analyses talking about “catching up with Australia” and our “low productivity”; sick of the polarising views (you’re either a fool for staying or you’re a fool for going). And given my job, I’m exposed to quite a lot of this. Heck, just recently local media picked up on a story about homeless Kiwis being flown back from Melbourne. That’s some major WTF-ery there.

The truth is, we’re always going to be overshadowed by our bigger cousin – the one with mineral riches, the one who brought us Neighbours and Home and Away, the one that’s about eleventy million times larger in every way. It’s like we have an identity crisis – we latch on to any mention of us “punching above our weight”, as validation of our worth and existence from other countries.

The worst thing is, we’re even fighting amongst ourselves. Lonely Planet recently named Wellington the coolest little capital, and before long, we were all scrapping about whether the title was deserved and generally playing true to the Jafa stereotype.

Can’t we just accept us for what we are? I’ve come to accept myself for who I am – something I think all women struggle with – and now I wish my country could do the same. I’m going to do my bit by minimalising all bitching about how expensive Auckland is, at least until summer ends and I have nothing good left to say about it…

Browsing tag: rant

Cows and milk, birds and bees, living in sin

Delay and pay

Will something better come along, or is this as good as it gets?

It all started with an iPhone (Or, why mixing family and money only leads to dramas)

Your credit is like your virginity

How not to roll out an integrated ticketing bus system

Net worth, weddings and other contentious issues. And people who need to STFU

Overshadowed

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