I didn't say it was a good example

So our pack out is finished. In order to help anyone else out there who might be moving, I thought I would give a few tips on how to make your pack out go as well as ours did.

First you should avoid sorting things for as long as possible. This will make it much more fun when you're trying to decide what should go air freight, what should go via ship, and what should stay in storage. You should also not pack any of your suitcases. More on that later.

Then you should listen to Husband when he says the moving company called him and told him they only needed two days to pack and won't arrive until Thursday. However, if you do doubt him a little and take off Wednesday anyway, that might be wise. But definitely don't start packing your suitcase until Wednesday.

Wednesday morning at 8am, do not answer the door! Definitely do not be dressed, and don't have your suitcases packed and try to be in the middle of washing dishes to put in UAB (the air freight) when you do open the door so that you have water spilled all down your shirt. Then call Husband in a panic and accuse him of lying and making things up! 

Listen to the movers when they tell you that you were right and Husband is wrong and they are supposed to start that morning, and then go upstairs and frantically throw everything blue into a suitcase and hope it's enough for a month. Then throw all the towels and sheets down the stairs, literally. It's good exercise and way faster than carrying them. Plus if you hit the annoying mover who is opening all your make-up and then saying she can't pack it because it's opened, so much the better. Yell at the mover to stop opening unopened bottles of lotion and pack. them. now. Then call Husband and beg him to come home. Burst into tears in front of the movers at every opportunity.

If possible, have Husband's completely unsympathetic boss make him travel to an island very far away during what is supposed to be your last day of pack out. Then have the movers send you an e-mail saying they need two more days to finish up your stuff. Call the movers and explain very carefully that there aren't two more days because the renters are moving in on Tuesday and you have to clean, paint, and clean the carpets by Monday. Have the snooty moving company manager tell you they won't do it. Refuse to listen to her and talk to the packers. Agree that they can put all of your things in the garage so they can finish up on Monday and you can still paint and clean. Agree to this just in time for it to flood the next day and ruin all your high school mementos. Try to salvage your yearbook by drying it out with the hotel blow-dryer. It won't work, but you'll feel like you made an effort.

Miss your good-bye party at work because the stupid pack-out isn't done. Miss a fourth day of work because the stupid pack-out isn't done. Finally get everything done and have Child 2 tell you that you forgot to pack her computer and her shoes so now she only has one pair and it is the pair with a hole in the sole. Tell Child 2 she can just avoid puddles until the air freight arrives and next time she should pack her own suitcase on time and not make it over 80 pounds so you don't have to take stuff out.

Shut the door to your hotel room and sob uncontrollably from stress. You're done! Now all you have to do is mail all the stuff that the stupid movers wouldn't ship. Too bad most of it can't go in the pouch. Ask all your friends if they would like bug spray or dry shampoo as a present.

Moving is not better than a brownie. But the US Women's Soccer team beating Germany is! GO USA! I believe that we will win! Plus I needed a win this week because I totally lost to the move.

DC does too count as a Post!

Packout begins tomorrow, so of course I am blogging. I should be sorting dishes, packing my suitcase, and washing all the sheets. But I'm tired and I've had packing nightmares all week so I am avoiding the thing that scares me by thinking about the thing that terrifies me--actually leaving.

Lots of Foreign Service bloggers have been posting the Top and Bottom 5 Things about their posts. They talk about the culture and the food and the housing and the travel opportunities. So I have decided to join them by writing about my current post--Washington, DC. I know you are thinking that I am really trying hard to procrastinate packing my suitcase, and you are totally right. But indulge me a little. I deserve it after getting no sleep for the past 4 nights in a row. So let's start with the bottom 5 things, shall we? Because the worst is always funnier.

1. The GSO at my post sucks. For those of you not in the Foreign Service, the GSO is the office in charge of choosing your housing and filling it with furniture. Now, admittedly, our GSO (me because there is no GSO when you are assigned to DC and you are totally on your own) has awesome taste in furniture and a lovely sense of decor, although she tends to buy too much green. Green is her favorite color and it goes so nicely with all the Korean celadon, so don't be too hard on her. But some of the furniture is very old and she has not replaced the kitchen table in years and it is stained pink with I think what must have been a Kool-aid spill and only seats 6 and isn't expandable. Also it is blond wood, so could someone please go back in time to the 1990s and tell the GSO that particular farm table will look really stupid in her house in the future? And also tell her Assistant GSO that the awful red rug he brought back from Afghanistan doesn't match anything and needs to go?
2. Facilities is almost worse than the GSO. Facilities, again for the non-FSOs is the office in charge of fixing things in your house when they break and since we own our own house, that would be Husband. Facilities at our post left cracks in the bathroom floor tile and a broke faucet for four whole years and only now when we need to rent it out did he fix them. Oh AND he decided the perfect time to start this project was the weekend before the renters were coming to see the place and therefore instead of helping clean up, he gave the GSO a list of things to do to "make the house look nice" while he went to Home Depot and messed around replacing the bathroom floor. And then he tried to micro-manage the GSO's cleaning of the house. The GSO firmly reminded Facilities that she did not work for him and since when is he an expert on cleaning up the house and he had better get back in the bathroom and leave her alone or Facilities would be sleeping on the couch with The Dog for a very, very long time.
3. And speaking of the list debacle, staff meetings between the GSO and Facilities are sometimes rather fraught with tension. I won't say there is always yelling, but sometimes Facilities needs to stop tasking other people with things. Just saying.
4. The housekeeping staff (that would be the children) is completely unreliable and often pretend they don't hear requests and when they do hear them, they ignore them until the GSO gets very angry and starts yelling about why is the GSO the only person who can remember how to turn on the dishwasher and then everyone is grumpy. Seriously, housekeeping, why is doing the dishes so hard?
5. The Community Liaison Officer is nowhere to be found, so whenever someone wants to do something fun, they have to set it all up themselves. And then everyone complains that this is the most boring thing ever and why are we making them go learn things on their day off and why can't we just go shopping at the mall instead? Seriously, there is a LOT of whining going on at this post. Morale is pretty low to begin with and gets worse anytime you say chore or help or it's your responsibility or check the chore chart.

So now, the top 5 things about Washington, DC.

1. You do get to live in your own house with your own pretty things and people can actually see that you have a decorating scheme and if you don't like the old IKEA furniture, you can get new stuff!
2. Speaking of new stuff, I have a beautiful bedroom and I love my bed so much, I'm bringing it to my next post. King-size memory foam means it's my favorite place to be at the end of the day.
3. The travel. Now, when you're posted to DC, you would think that means you just stay in DC, but if you read this blog, you know that is wrong. I almost completely filled up my passport with visas and stamps, and I've traveled to 16 different countries--some of them more than once. I had no idea I would travel so much, but I've loved every trip and it's been amazing. I mean, how else would I get to Ouagadougou?
4. Learning how the Department works. This was a big one. Knowing whom to contact is half the battle in getting something at the Department and there is no better way to do that than to come back here and work in it. I can not only find my way around HST, I made contacts and friends I hope will last throughout my career if not the rest of my life.
5. Which leads me to the people. You really get a sense of family at post because you all stick together. You have to because sometimes there is no one else who understands your bad Chinese. It is true that it is harder to get that sense of family from your office in DC, but if you are extremely lucky, as I am, you do. I will miss my crazy, fun, brilliant office mates. There is no one on earth like them, and no one I'd rather work with. Thank goodness for technology so I can continually bug them after I leave or I'd be even sadder than I already am.

There are lots of other plusses I could name like the food trucks (oh deliciousness on wheels) and the sight seeing opportunities, and not worrying if Netflix will work with your VPN. Also the shopping and being able to find clothes that fit. And the shoes! Oh, how I will miss Off Broadway Shoes.

Going to dinner with friends is better than a brownie, but not when you have to say good-bye. Leaving really sucks. There is just no way to be happy about leaving people you've grown to love like family. So to my fellow monkeys and pirates, I will miss you with all my heart. Please come visit me in India! If you do, I will take you to see this. It's like the Capitol, only prettier and with less arguing.

Because I don't have to so I'm not going to

I'm in Africa in a hotel that has both air conditioning and WiFi. I think I'm dreaming. I might be dreaming because not only do I have air conditioning and WiFi, I have a whole day to myself with no commitments and nothing to do. So I'm not going to do anything. At. All. I'm going to waste an entire day on reading and napping and watching movies I've rented through iTunes. Yep. You read that right. Not only does this hotel have WiFi, but the connection is fast enough for me to download whole movies! It's like I've died and gone to TDY heaven. I might not ever leave this place.

You see, for those of you who are veteran travelers, you know that sometimes, staying in hotels overseas can be dicey. No, I know. The US has our fair share of sketchy motels, too. There was one we stayed in I think in Tennessee when Child 1 was a baby and the carpet was so gross, we couldn't let her roll around on the floor and she was so angry with us! Child 1 was very determined, even at 3 months. But back to the hotels, you see the problem with going TDY (temporary duty which usually means a business trip) is that you don't get to choose the hotel--the Regional Security Officer chooses the hotel and decides if it's "safe" which on this trip has meant one room with a door that didn't lock and a broken safe. Although this was the view from the room which I found fascinating and would have spent more time viewing if it weren't already 104 F outside and the air conditioning didn't work that well on account of the electricity always going off. And also there was no water.

And then in another country, there was one room that was so disgusting I was afraid to take off my shoes and I refused to sleep with the disgusting blankets. Seriously I just googled "bad hotel rooms in Africa" and none of the photos were as awful as my hotel. And I won't even mention the fact that they tried to get me to switch to a different room that was cheaper. I said "No. That is not happening." Ugh. This was the bathroom, so I can't imagine what the cheaper room looked like. The photo simply doesn't do justice to the mildew growing in the shower. It's OK, though because there was no hot water so instead of using the disgusting shower, I just took sponge baths in the sink. With my own wash cloth because the towels were filthy, too. I'm a veteran Africa traveler and I ALWAYS bring my own wash cloths. And pillow, and shawl/blanket.

I'm fairly certain the RSO didn't actually go into my room when choosing the hotel, because the window didn't lock and it was on the 2nd floor and was just over a portico which even an old lady like me could have climbed on top of to get into the window. 

But this particular hotel I'm in now is as lovely and charming as any bed and breakfast in Paris and it has a pool, a sweet little garden and good food. Also air conditioning that works and WiFi! So excuse me while I go take a nap because afternoon naps are the best thing ever and way, WAY better than a brownie. Even when I could eat brownies, if someone had asked me to choose, I would pick the nap every time. Really. Brownies are delicious, but a nap--a nap can save your life.

Finished until the next time

So I've taken a little bit of a break. OK, a little more than a little. See, the idea was that I wouldn't blog because then I would have time to write my EER because it is that time again. Except that it didn't really work and mostly I just trolled facebook and looked at Buzzfeed all the time and watched re-runs of Big Bang Theory. My favorite is the one where Penny gives Sheldon Leonard Nimoy's DNA for Christmas. Which brings me to this.

Leonard Nimoy passed away and I am and always shall be a big fan. I miss him. I really wish Sheldon would get on cloning the DNA already and make us another Spock.

Here are some other things you missed while I was not writing my EER:

I have orders! Husband still doesn't because our travel tech, who is the same person for both of us, didn't believe I was an officer and therefore wouldn't issue Husband's orders even though she had already issued mine. Even when he sent my already issued orders to her, she said it wasn't possible for me to have my own orders because his file clearly said I was not an officer. Sigh. I know. It totally doesn't make any sense, but this is the way the Department is--every time you move it's like the first time anyone has ever moved in the history of the Foreign Service. You would think we would be better at this by now, but you. would. be. so. wrong! But still, I have orders! So at least one of us will be moving to India in July. The other one gets to keep The Dog.

We went to Texas for Spring Break And Child 2 killed lots of clay pigeons and soda cans at Grandpa's shooting range in the garage. Child 3 looked around one day and said Texas isn't a stereotype at all because people actually live like that! Yep. We wear boots and listen to country music and say y'all a lot. And there is lots of good barbecue. We took The Dog with us because my dad actually really likes The Dog, and she's marginally better behaved than when we got her, if by marginally you mean she is less like Voldemort and more like Golem, which I do. She still hates birds. And babies.

Child 1 is done with her Freshman Year! She comes home on Sunday and I can't wait a minute longer. Sunday needs to get here soon. Did you know that apparently now instead of taking a final you can make a video about what you learned and post it on YouTube? I so wish they had that option when I was in college because I would have rocked video finals.

And of course the entire family being together means that I leave for Africa for three weeks on Monday. It's my last trip and to several countries I haven't been to before and I'm very excited because I actually really love traveling to Africa, even though I have to fly on airlines like Bob Air which I'm hoping this time has real planes that fly and I don't have to load my own luggage and doesn't look like this.

And also, my EER still isn't finished, but then you knew that. My supervisor is awesome and offered to write my area for improvement in Haiku. I returned the favor by writing him the least helpful welcome home notes ever. For those of you not in the Department, welcome home notes are basically a list of everything important that happened while your boss was away that you give him when he gets back from wherever he has been. So since nothing really important happened, our notes are filled with things like "Bob is hungry, Sarah had a sandwich for lunch, Victoria got a mosquito bite and thinks she has Ebola." He will love them. And he already finished his part of my EER, so it's too late anyway.

So you know what is better than a brownie? Fire tornados in your backyard! OK, not in my backyard, but still you have to admit that this guy was pretty ingenious. Those are fans, in case you want to try to replicate the effect which I am totally not suggesting you do unless the fire trucks are already on their way anyway.

No, Child 2, you may not make a fire tornado in the backyard. Save that for Grandpa's garage.

Is that "cha" the one that means car or tea?

Someone recently posted in a blog about how despicable it is that people at embassies overseas don't bother to learn the local language so that they can be prepared for emergencies. She said that when the RSO suggested in a meeting with American staff that they learn vocabulary that would help in in an emergency, there was scornful laughter. The blogger took this to mean that Americans can't be bothered to learn the local language. Excuse me while I stop laughing at that interpretation. It's not that we don't want to learn the local language, it's that the Foreign Service Institute in its wisdom insists on teaching words and phrases that are completely not useful in every day life.

As many of you might remember, my next post is in India and we are leaving in July. The Department has decided that neither of our jobs require language training since many people in India speak English. You might wonder if I am worried about not being able to communicate and the answer to that question is another question which is when has the Department ever sent me to a place with the ability to communicate in the local language? And the answer to that question is never. I have never had a full course of language training before leaving for Post, and I also suspect that even if I had, it probably wouldn't matter.

 

Here are some phrases and things I learned how to say from studying language through the official language programs both at FSI and at Post.

• Nuclear non-proliferation
• Education policy
• Anti-terrorism programs
• Economic development
• proper greetings and salutations on letters
• defense posture
• free and fair elections
• electoral process
• historical context
• cultural revolution
• energy issues

Here are how many of those phrases I actually used in my job and/or life at Post: 0.

I had one friend on the visa line who insisted on asking applicants if they were terrorists because they had taught him that word at FSI and dang it, he was going to use it! The applicants mostly just stood there blinking because they couldn't figure out what he was asking. Because who talks about terrorism during a visa interview about going to see their new grandbaby?

Here are phrases I wish I had learned at FSI but which they do not teach.

• I fell off a curb and I think my ankle is broken.
• The car battery is dead.
• The pipe burst and there is water pouring everywhere.
• My daughter does not want you to take her picture.
• I would like to order spicy eggplant and marinated cucumbers.
• How much can I get these for if I buy 10?
• She has had a fever for three days and now she has a rash and I'm worried.
• I slipped on the ice and fell and twisted my ankle. It feels broken.
• My oven won't stay lit when the stove burners are on.
• Yes I need both the oven and the stove burners to work at the same time.
• Does this have any wheat or gluten in it?
• Do you have a list of ingredients so I can see what is in it?
• Yes, I've broken both ankles at different times. Is it sprained or what?
• Our furnace is broken and there is oil leaking all over the floor and it's cold. 
• Do you have any purses that are not IPR violations?
• I need something that will cure a headache but not make me sleepy.
• Did you clean these vegetables with bleach?

On the morning that our pipes burst at 4am, husband heard them and woke up first. It was like a fire hydrant went off in our bathroom and it was the hot water pipe. He was trying to find a way to turn off the water and yelled for me to go call maintenance. It was while I was on the phone with the night guard that I realized I couldn't say pipe or burst or flood. So I just yelled water lots of water come quick! Then five minutes later I called back and yelled now! Come now! Water everywhere! And finally when the guard came, I dragged him into the house by the arm and showed him the waterfall down our staircase. Then he moved pretty quickly and got the maintenance crew to come shut off the water and fix the pipe. And no, I still don't know how to explain any of that in Chinese and it's not something I would ever learn in language training. 

You know what is not better than a brownie? All this freezing weather and snow. If you're in the US, then you've probably seen Boston on the news. It looks like this.

Now, DC, is not Boston by any stretch, but I am getting really tired of slipping on the ice every time I go out to walk The Dog. So, if the weather gods are listening, please bring us spring. Now. Soon. Because I keep having to wear my ugly mushroom coat which is really warm but ugly. Please, I need to wear the pretty green short sleeved sweater I just bought. No more snow! Or ice! Honestly, I can't wait for India. This move can't come soon enough. Now, somebody tell me how to say "how much are these and can I have two" in Hindi.

Because I didn't buy a card and you never eat the chocolate I give you

Child 3 asked me a question today that I gave the best answer for and made me seem like a parent who completely has it all together. OK, actually I flubbed it. Stuttered and did that stupid parent thing where you say what do you think the answer is honey? And the question was what is it like to be married. And I answered first that it's exactly what you think it is, and then I said what do you think it's like because I thought for a minute she might say it was like this.

But she said she thought it was like being with the love of your life every moment of every day. Yep. Nailed it. Except that you don't spend every moment of every day together. And it's not like this all the time. Or actually even some of the time or ever at all. Husband and I never waltz, not even at the Marine Corps Ball where mostly they line dance and do the Electric Slide. And I don't own any ball gowns that sparkle and if Husband ever wore epaulets, I would not be able to make it to the ball because I would be laughing so hard I would cry all my makeup off.

So now that we've debunked the Happily Ever After myth, what is it like being married? And the answer is I don't know. I can only try to describe what it's like to be married to Husband which is I hope what you meant because I don't know what it is like for anyone else to be married. I only have my own experience to draw from. So here I go.

You know that montage scene in Up that makes you cry and shows Carl and Ellie's life together and it's lovely and touching and makes you want to be friends with cartoon characters because they had an awesome marriage and Ellie seems like so much fun? You know, this one?

Yep. It's like that. Only I don't wear yellow and we never go on picnics and life is waaaaay slower than a montage and they don't show the parts about stomach flu and hospital tests and car crashes and there is no soundtrack  unless you count NPR constantly playing in the background and our house is totally not as clean as theirs and we don't have armchairs. So, it's not really like that at all. But if you took all the beautiful and fun and exciting parts of our marriage, they would make a lovely montage. And you could set it to "It Had to Be You" by Harry Connick Jr. which is our song. So, Husband, here are some of the moments I would pick to show what it's like to be married to you.

The time when we had just met and went ice-skating with friends and Husband held my hand and swung me around in a circle.

That drive up the canyon when Husband said he loved me for the first time.

Watching Sister 2 catch the bouquet.

When I almost died in Korea and Husband carried me to the hospital in his arms.

That time when we found out we lost the baby and Husband held me all night while I cried. And Husband cried, too.

When I yelled at Husband for watching the NBA playoffs while I was in the hospital in labor with Child 1, after 40 hours. Of labor. Just saying.

When I yelled at Husband for chatting with his dad on the phone while I was in the hospital in labor with Child 2 and he was supposed to be counting while I pushed and instead talked to his dad.

When we had the best. birth. ever! with Child 3 and nobody yelled even once.

The day we moved into our first house.

And then the day when we moved out of it 8 months later and drove across the country to our new home.

When we found Child 2 inside the Christmas tree and she knocked it down and broke every single ornament and we laughed and laughed.

When Husband taught Child 1 to ride a bike.

That time when the sweet potatoes in Asia were yellow and the casserole for Thanksgiving looked like snot and the children loved it.

That time we lost Child 3 for a minute when she was 1 and we searched all over the house and found her playing in the bathtub in her Sunday dress and tights and shoes completely happy. Oh, and the bathtub was full of water.

Husband eating lasagna for every single birthday for 22 years. (Except for the one he was in Afghanistan.)

When we brought The Dog home and she hated Husband and tried to eat him.

When Husband passed the Foreign Service Exam and then I did.

All those times Husband tried to give my visa applicants advice and they looked at him like he was crazy.

The most romantic dinner ever in Bali that also included the children in our private villa with the pool. (Can we add that one in twice? That was awesome.)

The cruise where Child 3 got freaked out by the child care employees because they went on an alien hunt and Child 3 was scared of aliens under her bed for years.

When Husband and Child 2 used to sing karaoke together--usually Queen songs.

That time Husband left for Afghanistan.

That time Husband came home from Afghanistan.

The day Child 1 graduated from high school.

There is way more to come later because we're not done and life isn't a movie.

So there you have it, Child 3. 22 years is a lot to put in a montage. I'm sure I'm forgetting some things. I deliberately left out some things. What it's like to be married to Husband is sometimes fun, sometimes hard, sometimes joyful, and sometimes scary, but always, always good and I wouldn't trade a minute of it for everything. Except the Afghanistan explosion incident. That I would give up freely. And maybe The Dog. We could cut her out of the montage altogether, although then Child 1 would never forgive me.

But the honest answer is, being married to Husband is better than a brownie. Does that answer your question?

Not exactly like riding a bike

Yesterday was the end of the semester and the children didn't have school, so I sent Child 2 off on a trip to Florida with her band and they promised they would not set the bus on fire this year. Although, technically it wasn't their fault last year. Sweet Child 2 that she is, she asked me if I wanted anything from the parks, I said no, just drink some butterbeer and take lots of photos. So she sent me two pictures. Of a duck.



Because Child 3 would have been home all alone, I took the day off and we did her favorite thing ever which is to go to the mall and go ice skating. Now, I haven't been ice skating in a few years, but I was pretty good back in the day and even took lessons as a kid. I have a big scar on my lip to prove it. However, this was before all the ankle breaking and I had forgotten just how strong your ankles need to be in order to ice skate, which is to say, ice skating is no fun when you have weak ankles. Also, it was so windy outside at the rink that if you stood in the center, a gust of wind would come and push you into the wall. So that lasted about three times around the rink and then we went back inside and shopped.

I know, you are thinking, why would I spend my day off shopping when it is torture to try on clothes, and you are right except that my favorite pair of jeans, OK, my ONLY pair of jeans is wearing out and I needed to replace them. But, I had a strategy which involved going to the same store I bought them in two years ago and buying another pair. It actually worked, and I now have two whole pairs of jeans that fit! I know. It's some kind of miracle. Then I tried on about 30 pairs of pants for work, none of which fit at all, so my shopping karma is in tact.


So now I want to talk about the clearance process. For those of you unfamiliar with government work, you might not understand that every single thing that gets written and is seen by the public, or even stuff never seen by the public, must be cleared. That means that everyone has to agree on every single word or it won't get published. Many, many very good ideas die a slow and painful death during clearance and sometimes what you end up with is completely unintelligible and doesn't even mean what you meant anymore. I've mentioned before how I had one manager who every time I wrote "beginning on" would change it to "effective" which drives me crazy. No one in the real world says effective tomorrow we will now have dinner at 6:30 instead of 7:00. Ugh. But that is only one small stupidity and what happens during the clearance process is even worse.

Let me give an example that isn't an actual example. Say you work for a company that makes motorcycles and you have been tasked to write a safety manual for a particular kind of bike. So you talk to the engineers and some safety experts and you look at previous manuals and you start writing and after a few months, you have a very clear and user friendly manual. So then you send it to clearance. And someone changes the word speed to velocity. Every single time. And you think, ok, speed and velocity kind of mean the same thing, so alright. And then someone says you have put the section on the accelerator next to the section on brakes and they should be separated by the section on pedals. And you say but motorcycles don't have pedals and the accelerator is on the handle bars and they say they won't clear it until you move it. So you move it. And then someone says you don't have a section on how to properly wear a helmet. And you think, ok, so that's not exactly about motorcycles but you can see how it's related so you write one, but you draw the line at including a section on how to wear your hair under the helmet, even though you totally get that one could be distracted enough by bad helmet hair that one stops paying attention and crashes. But still, this is a motorcycle safety manual, not a fashion manual.

And then, someone says I don't see a section here on hybrid engines. And you say, this company doesn't make hybrid motorcycles. And they say that you should and you should include in your manual how they are better for the environment. And you say yes, but we don't make them and I can't write a manual for a motorcycle that doesn't exist. And they say a Toyota Prius is a hybrid and you say yes. But we are not Toyota and a motorcycle is not a Prius. And they say I won't clear until you show me the section on hybrids. Which you can't write, because no one in the company knows anything about hybrid motorcycles because they don't exist. So your manual doesn't get cleared and now no one knows about motorcycle safety and people still keep asking when your manual will be finished and the answer is never. Never ever because it was cleared to death!

So that is what the clearance process is like. And don't ask me again because it's still far to painful because that stupid motorcycle safety manual is one of my work requirements and now I have to explain in my EER that clearance killed it and I will never ever get promoted. Ugh! And that is how the rest of my week went and why I had a migraine yesterday and why my eyebrow keeps twitching.

Not smiling for 40 years is not better than a brownie. Apparently, to avoid wrinkles, this woman hasn't smiled or laughed for 40 years. To be sure, she does look younger than 50.

But no matter how many wrinkles you get, eventually you will still die. And when I die, it will be after having lived a life full of smiles and laughter. I kind of love my crow's feet because they are evidence of happiness--laughing with my children and friends and smiling when Husband tries to help Child 2 with French (he doesn't speak French) and letting my face light up when I Skype with Child 1 so she knows how happy I am to see her, and laughing with Child 3 when we got blown into the side of the ice rink on the windiest skating trip ever. I earned every one of those little lines and I love them. Plus a smile takes off 10 years anyway, so those wrinkles get canceled out and I still get to look younger and happy. It's a win/win!