Why is it only Wednesday?

It cannot be Wednesday. It has to be two weeks from Friday. Honestly, I don't think this week could be any longer even if Husband were still in Afghanistan. I feel like I've been running to catch a train for hours and hours and if...I...could...just...reach...it.... Nope. Missed it again. I don't know what it is about this new job, but I sit at my desk all day and by the end of the day, I can hardly move and my head is pounding and I'm not sure I can keep up the pace. My last job let me set my own schedule of what to do each day, which even I realized at the time was a great luxury and truly unusual in the department. This one still gives me a lot of autonomy, but I swear every time I blink I have 15 new urgent emails all requiring action today because people are waiting! Come on! Get to it! One person called to ask why I hadn't sent out an e-mail she asked me to forward that morning. Um, because it's number 135 in my queue and I haven't even read it yet?

I remember my very first job in the department which was adjudicating visas. And by adjudicating I mean listening to people yell things in Chinese at me all day long while I tried to figure out what they were saying and if they were lying to me mostly based on body language because I don't know what I learned in Chinese class, but it certainly wasn't what people were yelling at me. And after straining to hear and understand and make sense of things over and over and over again all day long, Husband (who had the same job but got paid more, sigh) and I would come home, flop down on the couch and be so exhausted we couldn't make a single other decision. Not even what to eat for dinner. We ate late lots of nights back then. And also ordered in a lot because I was way to tired to cook. And you know what? This current job is even harder than that. Or maybe I am just older. Either way I am too tired tonight to be funny.

Thankfully, I have awesome children and I called Child 2 today and told her how to make dinner which is you throw eight boneless chicken thighs into a crock pot with two cans of Progresso creamy mushroom soup and a can of mushrooms and cook it on high for 5 hours. Then serve it over rice. She did it exactly right and I even texted her how to use the rice cooker, and when I came home dinner was ready and I didn't have to cook it. It was my night for dishes, though, but that doesn't require as much brain power. I think I might do this more often. The forcing children to cook part, not the dishes. I still don't like dishes.

You know what is not better than a brownie besides having to do dishes? Getting arrested for shooting an arrow at a jail. That is wrapped in marijuana. And you miss anyway.

Apparently, this guy was no Katniss so his friend waiting on the second floor of the jail never did get his contraband. Creative, but not the most successful stunt. At least they both get to hang out in jail together now. Good friends. Good times. Not.

Smoke and happiness

We set dinner on fire happily tonight. OK, not really. It was cool enough for the fire pit, so Child 3, who was in charge of dinner, said we should roast hot dogs and we did. They were delicious. But for those of you interested in chemistry, apparently soot stains melmac permanently. So since we learned from the blackend plates last time, this time we used paper which have the advantage of being easy to clean up, especially if you just throw them in the fire. Now we all smell like smoke and roasted hot dogs and I love it. No, we did not do this because a) our rake is plastic and b) I think we left it in Asia. But it is a good idea if you have a lot of people to cook for. We only had six hot dogs total, so that would be a little overkill.

You will all be happy to know that I now have most of the systems I need at work. Or at least I have all the ones that everyone else has. We are still missing two big ones, but since no one has them, we're limping along without them. I finally was able to respond to some of my around 500 emails with real information. People may not like my answers, but at least they are out of my queue. Maybe I should send everyone a follow-up e-mail after saying "your problem has been resolved." Just like the computer people do because in the Department apparently "resolved" means "not on my desk anymore."

But I actually hate that. It's like picking up piles of laundry and moving them from one part of the house to the other. It doesn't actually finish the laundry. Laundry is not "resolved" until it is washed, dried, folded, and put away. In exactly that order. Yes, children, I'm talking to you. Taking the clothes out of the suitcase and putting them on the floor is not unpacking. Neither is moving the clothes from the floor to the hamper. Although that is better than nothing, it is not "resolved." So do some laundry already! And honestly, the next time you ask me where something is and I say it is on the floor of your room and you go and can't find it and then I go into your room and pick it up off the floor and hand it to you, I swear I will spontaneously combust when you then say you never saw it!

Fire roasted marshmallows might just be better than brownies, but this video of Kristin Chenoweth really is. She called someone up out of the audience to sing a song from Wicked with her, and it turned into an awesome moment. Because the woman she called out of the audience not only loved Wicked and knew all the songs, she was a voice teacher, and man can she sing!

So kudos to you, Ms. Voice Rock Star Teacher! I hope this is only the beginning of good things to come. And I so admire your bravery for singing in public with one of the best Broadway singers ever. I could never do it. I'm awesome in the shower, though. I the shower, I defy gravity all the time.

Just call me the Master Poacher

We had a late dinner tonight, so I thought I'd cook Italian and I made risotto with poached eggs. Husband said you figured it out! Yes. Yes, I did. I am an egg poacher now. And I'm proud of it. Child 3, who was the only child eating with us, was impressed although apparently my eggs were softer than the kind her grandmother makes. But that was on purpose. If I wanted hard boiled eggs, I wouldn't be poaching them. Also, they wouldn't go very well with risotto.

The risotto, however, was not a hit. Child 3 apparently does not like risotto. Or seafood. We learned about the seafood at the beach. We were eating boiled Gulf shrimp which are large and delicious and she first complained that they weren't deveined and then told everyone that shrimp don't have veins and that black line was actually poop (which is true, but she shouldn't have reminded everyone about it.) And then she took one bite and said she didn't like seafood. I asked her then how we were going to have a restaurant in Guam if she didn't cook seafood. Then she said she would cook it but hire someone else to taste it. I highly suspect that someone else she has in mind is me, since I'm going to be doing most of the cooking anyway. I'm still not very sure about this plan.

We saw lots of old friends today. Some were at the farmer's market, which was so fun. I love the farmer's market and I love that I ran into friends from China there. And some were at a barbecue. We have lots and lots of friends arriving from various corners of the world and this year should be so much better than the last, especially since there will be no one in our house traveling to Afghanistan at all. The entire year. Unless it's me, but it won't be because I won't volunteer for that one. Cairo? Sure. West Africa? Definitely. But not Afghanistan.

This Minnesota Vikings quarterback and his sports reporter bride did something on their wedding day that made me laugh out loud which is better than a brownie.

 

No, not that! Honestly. They ate their first dinner as a married couple at Arby's. Which is exactly what Husband and I did. Only that was a long time ago before I was allergic to wheat. No. Seriously. Arby's. We were really hungry after the reception/party which was really much more of a party than a reception so it was perfect. And there was a lot of food, but the thing you forget about weddings is that the bride and groom don't get to eat much because they are going around talking to all the guests. At least, that is what happened to us. But at any rate we were starving at the end so we went to Arby's. So kudos to you, Mr. & Mrs. Ponder. I hope that your marriage is as long and as happy as ours and that it involves nothing about Afghanistan.

That is so not the same thing!

We went to our favorite Thai restaurant that has gluten-free food and had our customary Thom Ka Gai, which is spicy coconut and chicken soup. And it was awful. Really terrible. So bad that I couldn't finish it. I made up for it by having a second helping of the Pad Thai. But it was so disappointing. Next time I'm going to order the green papaya salad instead.

My new office is very conscientious about my needing gluten-free food. They want to make sure I can find something for lunch and that there are things for me to eat and drink at happy hour. I find it very touching. I'm not used to other people looking out for me. I was feeling sick this evening and Husband brought me a glass of soy milk. And some fresh ripe mango. I was so surprised I said what is this? And he said your blood sugar is low so I brought you some fruit. I was stunned. But very happy. Who wouldn't be happy looking at this?

OK, Child 1 wouldn't, because she hates mangoes. But then she also doesn't like tomatoes, so what does she know? OK, I take that back. She knows a lot. I know that because my e-mail has been inundated by colleges who are courting her and want her to come to their school solely based on her test scores. So good on you, Child 1! Next time, could you please use your own e-mail address?

This picture is better than a brownie. In case you can't tell, that is The President of the United States sitting at that table talking to some students. And that is a misbehaving toddler on the floor whose mother is laughing in the background. Because when your toddler is misbehaving in front of The President, all you can do is laugh because the Secret Service might just arrest you if you tackle your child and try to get him back in his stroller. Once, Child 3 danced in front of Secretary Colin Powell and laughed and he said into the microphone that he didn't know his jokes were that funny. I will always love him for that. And kudos to the White House photographer for snapping one of the best pictures of the year.

Wait. . . Wait. . . Now! Dang it. No bar again.

I've been spending the past few days wandering around the beach looking for bars. No, not those kind. There were plenty of the kind that serve drinks, just no cell phone service. So thus no blog posts for the past few days. I have to admit that I didn't look very hard, because hey, it was the beach! And you shouldn't have to work very hard at anything at the beach. So I just laid around and relaxed and enjoyed relaxing and being in charge of nothing. No, really! I did too relax. In my younger days I was a type A who couldn't unwind, but I firmly believe now in taking time to do nothing.

The beach we went to was on Galveston Island because it was my family reunion. It was a lot of fun, mostly because Sister 3 did all of the planning and because we all, OK really me but I think mostly everyone, love the beach. We got in a lot of swimming both in pools and in the ocean and no one got badly sunburned, which is pretty amazing given that all of us are pretty fair and most of us are redheads.

I know you are wondering how a bunch of redheads can go to the beach without burning to a crisp and the answer lies in our expert sun-avoidance routine.  You see, when you are a redhead who loves the beach, you need to get very comfortable with wearing more clothing at the beach than you might on an ordinary day. You see, while most people wear as little as possible to the beach, and some people wear far too little, I am dressed like this.

OK, not exactly in polar gear. But remember where red hair occurs naturally and the weather mostly looks like this.

Or often like this.

Not exactly a lot of sun in those pictures. So you can see the need for sunblock, and a hat, and UV sunglasses, and a rash guard, and board shorts. (OK, the shorts are just to hide my thighs.) But thankfully, we made it through an entire summer and nobody got really badly burned. Except for fabulous Niece 1; she looked a little lobsterish. I hope she is feeling better now.

Here is what is not better than a brownie--driving across country and only being able to eat half of a meal at the restaurant. Fast food has not caught on to the gluten free movement and here is what I can eat at Subway: nothing. And Arby's: a box of meat. And Cracker Barrel: the carrots and green beans. Child 3 and I had a moment where we both broke down in frustration and hunger and disappointment at yet another menu with nothing on it that we can eat. We're still not used to this life, so we hadn't thought to stop at a grocery store and stock up. Also, we were in a rush to get back so I could go back to work where I still don't have half the computer access that I need. Ugh. So having a box of meat was sometimes the only option, and not a good one, I might add. And if I have to eat plain Fritos again for another meal, I might just scream. 

But one more thing about our beach trip; at least this didn't happen.

That is a hover craft landing on a beach in Russia. Apparently your typical day at the beach there, and no, that's not photo shopped. "Jonas", watch out for random military landing crafts while you're there! I'm not so sure I really want to bid on Russia if this is normal for the beach.

Wait, how many years is that again?

Today is my anniversary. I celebrated by eating a kabob and reading a book. I know you are thinking that isn't a very romantic anniversary, and you would be right. But Husband is still on home leave so I am by myself. I'll see him tomorrow and we'll celebrate later.

I know you are also wondering why Husband is on home leave without me and what is home leave anyway? Home leave is probably the best idea that congress ever had and it is a forced vacation federal employees have to take when returning from overseas to help reacquaint themselves with America. However, only the employee who has been overseas gets it. So I have just finished the hardest year of my life by far and at the end of it, Husband gets another vacation. We have already established that I have hardly any leave at all, or really none, so I didn't get to go with him on his home leave. I know. Life is not fair and neither is the Department or I wouldn't have to buy myself shoes because I didn't get an award.

Speaking of shoes, this story makes me very happy and is almost, but not quite as good as a brownie. You see, it says that men in the UK spend more on shoes than women. This does not surprise me one bit because you know that I secretly (OK, not so secretly) believe that British designers are out to get me and hate women and this just proves it because they make such marvelous shoes for men. See these beautiful shoes for men? They are so lovely and buttery that I would wear them myself. They are almost good enough to eat. But they cost 195 pounds, which is about $305. And they don't come in my size.

And this is what they make for women.

See? I told you they hate us! That shoe isn't even close to a brownie. But these are. Husband, if you are reading this, Kate Spade makes great anniversary presents!

Just because it's pink doesn't mean it's a dessert

You will all be happy to know that I have conquered the poached egg. I made one yesterday and again tonight and they were perfect and every bit as delicious as I imagined. I love poached eggs. Love them. And because they are one of the few things I am not allergic to, I am going to eat them a lot.

However, I refuse to eat any more mushy asparagus, so only fresh from now on. I should have mentioned that it was mishy because it was frozen. The market was all out of fresh when I went.

Tonight I went out for dessert with friends which for me usually means "watch other people eat chocolate." So I decided to try a caramel shake, because I'm still hoping caramel is the new chocolate. It's not. Especially when it is covered in big crystals of pink salt. Now, a few flakes of salt would have been delicious, but this was about a teaspoon and they were big crystals so they didn't dissolve and I would get a big chunk and now I feel slightly sick. But maybe that's because I think I also can't have dairy. I don't know if I can live without cheese. But at least I can still eat eggs. They are no brownies, though.

And confidential to my friend "Esperanza"--you will rock your test tomorrow. I can feel it.