I miss New England. And I never thought I would utter those words when we were stationed there. I've even been told, after uttering those words to a friend who has also lived in and recently moved out of New England, that I'm a glutton for punishment.
I look back now and see my dislike of New England had more to do with the Navy and the fact that our boat was out to sea 75% of the year. I missed Jeremy. Kyra missed her Daddy. Because of him never being home, we never experienced a whole lot of the wonderful things New England has to offer.
Skiing at the local hot spots. Touring around NYC or Boston. Taking a weekend to stay at one of the ungodly number of Bed and Breakfasts that litter every large and small town. We were within driving distance of both the fresh lobster Maine has to off and Niagara Falls and we didn't get to travel to either.
Jeremy and I have been dreaming about returning to our favorite Toxic Crap Hole the Navy has to offer. We agreed that if there was an opening for a shore command position there we both wanted to jump feet first on it. But we've had no such luck. The only job available at this time is no better then asking to be put on the first boat out on deployment. And neither one of us are all that excited to sign up for that job.
His next option is to stay here at the Mason Dixon Line with a sweet, cush job that includes 9-5 work days, weekends off, very limited time away from home and a guaranteed ladder to quickly climb the military ranks due to the sheer number of head haunch's Jeremy would work with/under. The thing is, we hate it here at the Mason Dixon Line. It's crowded. It's expensive. And every bit of affordable housing within close proximity to his job is either next to the ghetto or a 4x6 box in the shiny part of town. The glory of living in the big(er) city wore off about two months after we moved in.
His third option is a teaching position in the Bible Belt. Still 9-5, weekends and holidays off and helpful with advancements. The catch is, he's not quite qualified for the position, yet, and my fear is the position will be taken before he is qualified. Even still, it's in the Bible Belt... and the Bible Belt is fucking hot 9 months out of the year. Combine that with the fact that there aren't any new and fun things to do within close proximity. (Take my word for it, I grew up in the Bible Belt) The couple of differences between the Mason Dixon Line and the Bible Belt are as follows: its significantly smaller and more affordable; and there is always someone on the corner of a major intersection holding a sign with some kind of religious jargon I'd rather not have shoved in my face while on my daily errand runs. I mean, other then my family, which will be in very close proximity for the first time in 5 years and the job its self, there's not much in the Bible Belt we're all that excited about.
Two excellent jobs in locations we don't really want to be or our prime, first pick, location with a crappy job offer. We're torn. And I'm saddened.
I miss my orchard, canning a year's worth of peaches and pears, freezing a year's worth of blueberries and raspberries we hand picked. I miss cutting down our ginormous Christmas tree for just $20. I miss our house that had my large kitchen and the giant hill in the back yard, perfect for winter sledding. And I miss bitching about the cold ass winters.
So, what would you guys do- egg your husband on to pick the crappy job in your ideal area, push him to go for the job with the quickest advancements (knowing he's not a lifer) in the crappy part of town or pick the good job in the decent city closest to family?
I mean, sure, I write it down and it seems obvious to me, Bible Belt- Here we come! But damn it, I want my New England.