Things I didn't know

There are lots of things I don't know, but here are some things I learned over the past couple of weeks.

1. You can have a migraine for 5 days straight and it won't kill you, although you might wish at times that it would.
2. You can get lost in your own neighborhood when your head hurts so much that it feels like an ice pick is trying to push its way out through your eye-brow.
3. You should not drive when there are ice picks in your head.
4. Although our townhouse only has three bedrooms, it can sleep 13.
5. The Dog doesn't like it when there are 8 extra people sleeping in our house.
6. It is really hard to plan dinners for 13 people when you have ice picks in your head.
7. Gabrielle is even more awesome than you know, because without even knowing about the ice picks, she made dessert for 17 people (the 13 plus her family of four) AND she made it gluten free AND without dairy AND no chocolate! AND it was from scratch!
8. I hate bidding.

OK. That last one I knew already, but you might not know that it is now bidding season again in the Foreign Service and I have to once again beg people all around the world to give me a job. It, in a word, sucks. If I believed that my migraines were caused by stress, then I might believe that bidding might be the cause of my five days of ice picks. It is frustrating beyond belief for someone who reads the end of the book first and likes to know what she's getting for Christmas before she opens the gifts. I hate surprises and I don't like suspense. And now I'm facing three months of uncertainty before I find out what my future will be, and, by the way, I have no say. OK, I have some say, but the say I have is in not bidding on the places I don't want to go. So I am not going to bid on anywhere that has recently blown up or doesn't have a high school for the children or that requires learning a really hard language that can only be used at that post. (Yes, I'm talking about you, Hungary!) I don't have anything against Hungary, but I will never ever be assigned to Hungary because it is nice and I am a "fair share" bidder.

Oh, you don't know what "fair share" bidders are? Well, it's when the Department tells you that all the places you have served are too nice and you have to bid on places like Ecoliland or Ickystan, or somewhere else that no one else ever wants to go. And you have to have the majority of your bids be these places. You see, because having Husband almost blown up in Afghanistan apparently does not count. So I am "fair share." But here is the thing, Gods of Bidding, I only ever bid on Ecoliland and Ickystan, and Armpitia! And you never assign me there! So just for once, please smile on me and give me and Husband both jobs in Ecoliland. And please don't make me beg anymore. It's making my head hurt.

You know what is not better than a brownie? Road rage. However, what happened to this driver is almost brownie-worthy. You see, he was in a rage and got out of his car while stopped at a red light to bang on another driver's window. Except he was a little drunk and when he got out of the car, he forgot to put it in park, and when the other drove away, his own car ran over him. So here's to you, Mr. Rager, for taking care of your own punishment for bad behavior. And here's to the Florida police for also charging him with a DUI.

Oops! Didn't mean to push publish you stupid computer!

I am in the house alone. Children 2 & 3 are at camp with Husband and Child 1 is out somewhere with friends I don't know, so it's just me and The Dog. Yep. The Dog is still here and she still drives me crazy. She hasn't eaten my shoes for a while and she's stopped pooping on the carpet, mostly because I think the children actually walk her daily. But she is still always under my feet and someday she will break my ankle. Granted, it's not that hard to break my ankle, but still. When I trip over her and fall and break something, I will totally blame The Dog.

Caroline and I went to dinner tonight to celebrate the fact that I was on my own. OK, really it was just an excuse to eat really yummy Vietnamese food and chat, but it was fun. I have this new favorite Vietnamese place. I order the same thing every time because I know it doesn't have soy sauce and it won't make me sick. The staff are really good about checking with me on what I can and can't eat. The prices are reasonable, and the food is delicious! Tonight we tried the Vietnamese version of Baked Alaska called a winter roll. Basically it's a deep-fried spring roll with frozen yogurt and fruit in the middle. It was awesome and delicious and the wrapper was made from rice, so I could totally eat it. I made a big mess, but Caroline said that was the only way to eat such a delicious dessert. And also "fried" is a food group and it had fruit so it was healthy!

It would be awesome with mango and banana. I need a deep fryer.

No really. I've been thinking about this for a long time. I know they start fires and I know that fried foods are supposed to be unhealthy, but I can't have the fast food versions of things like french fries because a lot of them use wheat flour to make them crispy, and I can't eat egg rolls because they are also made with wheat, and you have to deep fry egg rolls and fries, and fried chicken, so I need a deep fryer. Now, if only I can find a way to keep The Dog from tripping me and knocking it over.

You know what is better than a brownie? Buying pizzas for your passengers when your flight is delayed.

That's what a pilot for Frontier Airlines did when they had to land in Cheyenne and wait for weather to clear over Denver. I know you are wonder why I am applauding pizza buying when I can't eat pizza, but sometimes it is the thought that counts. Thoughts won't make your stomach stop growling, but it will make you like an airline a little better. United and Delta, you're on notice! I bet no one from Frontier Airlines demands to see your medical records when you ask for a gluten-free meal. Yeah. That actually happened. United customer service sucks.

You kids get off my lawn!

I love the Smithsonian Folklife Festival. It's where I used to go to pretend I was traveling to countries I never thought I would go see. And then I joined the Foreign Service and saw lots of places I had never dreamed of going. But I still love the festival. So this year,  Husband and I made the children come with us because it is China and Kenya. And we thought it would be fun. Doesn't this look like fun?

Oh, were we so wrong. Apparently, if you have lived in China, it is not fun to go see things and people from China at the Smithsonian Folklife Festival. And apparently  you also need to say things to your parents like this is the lamest thing ever and why are we even here, and we lived this already so why do we need to see it again. And if your mother travels to Africa regularly and brings back souvenirs  you are also too cool to care about Kenya. Because apparently all African countries are the same. That is until your mother mentions that bidding season is coming and if you really don't want to live in Africa. . . .

Yes, I used the carrot of actually seeing things in real life to get them excited about seeing things in real life right in front of them. I know, it's confusing, but they are teenagers, so it is getting harder and harder to emotionally manipulate them into doing what I want without whining. So we looked at all the stuff from Kenya, and then they ate Chinese food. Because they lived in China and they love Chinese food. Really, someone needs to make charts about how to understand teenagers. And please make them not look like this.

The National Park Service also doesn't understand teenagers and that the Folklife Festival may be the only way to get some teenagers to the Smithsonian and the National Mall. They actually believe that the grass is more important than bringing people together so the Smithsonian has started a petition on Change.org. I know you are thinking that "they" are the same organization and I did too, but we were wrong. And so is the National Park Service. So I signed this petition here: http://savethefestival.org/. Because even though the children complained bitterly about me dragging them to the festival, they still ate every bite of the mango-tapioca-coconut dessert. There should always be a couple of weeks every year where you can get yummy desserts on the National Mall.

This Buzzfeed list about hide and seek is way better than a brownie. Child 2 was the worst ever at hide and seek when she was little. She would call out not to look in the bathroom because she was hiding in the shower.  And she was just as bad at seeking as she was at hiding. Husband once stood in the middle of the living room holding a lamp and she didn't find him. Granted, she was four, so she's improved since then. But back then, she was about as good as this kid.

I have never laughed so hard during a game in my life. We loved it. I hope someday she has a child who is just as terrible and just as trusting.

Only the Lonely

You know that video of that guy in the airport in Vegas where he's singing "All By Myself"? And he's dancing and no one is around? Well, I am living that in my house tonight. Everyone is in other rooms, all of them ignoring me and the fact that I want to watch Dirty Rotten Scoundrels which we finally got to work in a DVD player (because I can't find anywhere that streams it) and it is the funniest movie and no one will watch it with me. I even sent Child 1 a text and she came down for 10 seconds and left. Not even The Dog is in my room, which must be some kind of record. Or maybe it's a miracle. I can't decide. But she came in for a minute when I called her and then left. I showered this morning, so I don't think I smell.

People have asked me how The Dog is and my answer is the very same as she always has been. She is still stealing my shoes and still smells. She hasn't chewed anything up for a while, so that is at least good. But she has this really annoying habit still of always being underfoot. Seriously, she will stand right behind me while I'm cooking or washing dishes so that when I turn around, I trip over her. Someday she is going to break my ankle, which for me is surprisingly easy, and that will make me really, really mad because then I won't be able to wear these Franco Sarto sandals:

Yep. It's awards season again and I again was not nominated for anything. Apparently, I still have supervisors who don't believe in awards, unless you complain very loudly in every meeting about how much you don't like everyone and that Europeans get more vacation days. That gets you an award, but being very, very good at your job does not. So I got myself these sandals in lieu of an award. They are surprisingly comfortable and I think they make me close to 6 feet tall when I wear them. I love them. LOVE them. Husband asked if I had actually got an award would I have bought the sandals anyway. Probably. Because they are beautiful. And I think I have a shoe problem. Somebody asked me if I had a different pair of shoes for every outfit. I said maybe, but only because I own a LOT of clothes as well as shoes.

You know what is better than a brownie? This:

I believe that we will win!

Zombified

I have turned into a zombie again. I know I must be one of the undead because a) my eyes are bloodshot, 2) I have sores all over my feet, and also I can't feel my face. OK, the face thing is because I went to the dentist again and I hate the dentist and apparently my metabolism is so slow that Novocaine lasts for hours. Seriously, six hours later I was still numb and they gave me 25% less than last time which was so much that I missed Child 3's music concert because zombies are not welcome in public and I didn't want to be a drooling monster getting stoned by the masses and disrupting everything. Yes, vain, I know, but really Child 3 took one look at my zombie drooling face and asked if I was certain I wanted to go and when I said no, could I stay home instead, she kissed me. Middle schoolers. Sigh.

The sores on my feet are because an evil mosquito ate my ankle last night. I am going to find that thing and kill her. I hate mosquitoes  I'm almost ready to buy a net for our bed, but Husband doesn't like them. He used to complain all the time in China, but the thing is that mosquitoes never eat him--they always bite me instead. I feel like if I am the victim, I should have a say in whether or not there is a net. And I have to say that aesthetically speaking, they are really kind of ugly. See, you think they will be all romantic and look like this.

But in reality, that is a terrible mosquito net because it doesn't cover the whole bed and there are gaps the stupid bugs will find and sneak in and there is nothing worse than a mosquito trapped inside your net. The ones that actually work look like this.

I think that is actually the brand we had in China, lace and all, only ours was pink which made it even more objectionable to Husband. Plus, if you have to get up in the middle of the night, you have to zip yourself out and then back in and if you leave it unzipped because you object to the net, your wife gets bitten and then doesn't speak to you because she has to go work on the visa line with mosquito bites on her face like she has some awful disease. You know. Just speaking hypothetically.

So anyway, for my war with the mosquito, I ordered one of these from Amazon.

In case you haven't seen these before, it is a battery operated mosquito killer that emits a small electric charge when you push a button. So you hold down the button, swat at the mosquito, and it fries to death with a very satisfying pop. I loved ours in China so, so very much that I brought a bunch to our next post in Asia and they have all disappeared. They are legal, now, in the US, so I ordered one and when it gets here, those mosquitoes had better watch out. I am on the warpath and I will not be stopped!

So you know what is better than a brownie? Having your child graduate from high school. Child 1 is all done. Finished with elementary and secondary school forever. I couldn't be prouder of her. Only two more to go!

Yeah. That is better.

So we have this white board to help with family communication which has my work number and Husband's desk number on it. It also has at various times said do your homework or don't forget to walk the dog and things Child 3 has borrowed without permission. But I was bored the other night, so I wrote the following.

Reasons you love your mother:

1. Chicken a' la King
2. Because otherwise your would be late for everything
3. Shoes

and the children added these.

4. Because she is awesome :-D
5. See narrative by Child 1
6. Because she is there.

I'm pretty certain that last one was from Child 3 who isn't all that thrilled with me tonight because I am making her do her homework. But still. I think they love me. Apparently, the seniors had to give their projects in front of an audience. Child 1 read her essay about how much she loves me and then played a guess where in the world I am game with photos from her childhood. So she puts up a photo and says where is this? And someone in the audience yells Hawaii! And she says Child 2, you are in the picture! You're not allowed to guess! Which Child 2 thought wasn't fair because Child 1 was giving Starbursts as prizes for guessing the right answer. Sometimes I so love Child 2. I love them all. Even when they are not doing their homework. Seriously, Child 3! Get off the computer!

You know what is not better than a brownie? Burning your house down because you are smoking with a cold.  

These are tissues. They are made of paper. Paper is flammable. If you smoke while blowing your nose, they might catch on fire, and if you then drop the burning tissue, it can burn down your house. Literally. Really, I shouldn't have to explain these things, but you never know. Child 2 might get ideas. She does love lighting napkins on fire.

I like the hail part better.

As I mentioned last week, it's the beginning of "hail and farewell" season. Really just the farewell part which always comes first. And I hate that part. You would think that being an experienced Foreign Service Officer that by now I would be good at them. But I'm not. I stink at farewells. My coping method of choice is to pretend that they are not happening. This works pretty well, actually, because so far, I've served twice at one post and went back TDY to the other one, so I've been able to see a lot of people again whom I said farewell to before. Also, there is FSI where all FSOs end up eventually and I always run into someone at the cafeteria. And finally, there is facebook so I can at least see photos of my friends' cats. This is Grumpy Cat, not owned by any of my friends, but you get the idea.

The tradition in the Foreign Service is to have a farewell party and give a eulogy about everyone leaving. Seriously, it is rather funereal and a little horrifying to have to listen to people trying to say nice things about everyone especially when you know that one of the people they are lauding is a despicable human being and everyone is happy she is leaving or that another one cheated on his wife with someone else present at the farewell and caused a huge scandal or that a third is leaving the service bitter after not being promoted for the umpteenth time. No, that last one is not me. But you get the idea. What I hadn't realized so clearly until recently is how undiplomatic this whole process is.

You see, what FSOs forget is that there is a large portion of State Department employees who never move. Local staff, whom we rely on to stay at a post and help us run things, make connections with local officials, and interpret for us when we're giving an important briefing--they stay put. And the same with Civil Servants here in DC. Every year they see new people come in and every year they say good-bye to more and listen to the long horrible speeches which gloss over the truth and act like we FSOs are all some kind of saviors and nothing worked before we parachuted in and how will the office ever survive once we leave? Except that there are very talented people who come and stay and do the same work as we do and don't get gushed over every couple of years. This needs a remedy. I'll start with a pledge to never hold a stupid farewell party with awful speeches. Who's with me?

Farewell parties are not better than a brownie, but then neither is finding a bear in your hammock.

Yep. That is a black bear hanging out in someone's backyard in Florida--literally. Makes me very glad I don't have a hammock. Or woods. It would take a lot of work for a bear to break into our yard, get into the garage, and then drag out the chairs to lounge in. I know this because it is apparently beyond the  capacity of the children to find the chairs, so I'm certain the bear would have a tough time. And also there is The Dog. She would so take on that bear. That's her backyard and there is not a cat or a bird or a baby that is allowed in it. So I'm guessing no bears, either.