I'm Sure This Is All Very Interesting...

Everyone Else Is Doing It...

noreply@blogger.com (Mandy) — Sun, 03 Jan 2010 21:48:00 +0000

The whole "decade in review" thing seems to be popular with the kids, so in the interest of a little self-reflection (and because it gets quite jumbled in my head when I think about all that's happened over the last 10 years), here we go - The Oughts In Review.

2000 - Started off the year in New York, loving my crazy group of friends, time with my cousin in NYC, and knowing that if I stayed where I was, things wouldn't turn out the way they needed to. So I was deciding on which grad school to go to - University of Arizona or University of Wisconsin. I chose Wisconsin, mostly to be near family, but also because the program seemed to offer something a little different.

2001 - Continuing through grad school, trying to think about what I wanted to do with my life once I finished, feeling like staying in the Midwest was maybe not for me. Highlights were definitely seeing so much of my brother and his family (especially bonding with my nephew David), and my two best friends living in Chicago. Low point was being so far away from everyone I wanted to be with on Sept. 11th, and that sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach when I thought my dad might have been on one of those planes.

2002 - Finished grad school and after some deliberation about where "home" would be next, I made the unexpected choice to return to a place I'd been before - Maryland. I was nervous because I didn't have a job, *really* nervous when I started working at Crate and Barrel again, and the relieved when I got a job somewhat closer to my field. Was thrilled to welcome my nephew John into the world.

2003 - Started off the year traveling to South Africa, which was the first time I'd left the country in a long time. I had wanted to do international work, so even though this was a short trip, I loved the experience. I experimented with online dating (not for me), and watched happily as five friends got married that summer/fall. Started training to volunteer with the DC Rape Crisis Center, and got mono because I had worn myself out completely.

2004 - Continued the online dating experiment. Clearly still not for me, although I got some good stories out of it. Started a new job with the promise of international travel. That promise took a while - the only new stamp in my passport for 2004 was from a mission trip to France (which was a wonderful and challenging experience). Welcomed my nephew Mikey to the family!

2005 - Had a fairly unhealthy relationship - nothing out of the ordinary, but I cared about him and he cared about him, leaving no one to care about me. It was draining. We broke up as I left for 3 months in Pakistan, which was interrupted by 7 weeks in Vietnam. I spent the summer working in Karachi, near the house I grew up in, swimming in the first pool I ever swam in. I then traveled to Ho Chi Minh City, and spent time exploring the Mekong Delta and all the shopping and culture that Ho Chi Minh City had to offer. I came home, stopping in England for a wonderful week where I saw Ewan McGregor in Guys and Dolls in the West End! Actually made peace with the idea of being single. Left again for two months in Vietnam. Came home via a week in Paris, which was wonderful - it is still one of my favorite cities in the whole world. Came home for three days and then left for my first two weeks in Yemen. Came home for Christmas and met this new guy Keith that my friend Sarah had been telling me about. Spent time with the friends I'd been missing dearly.

2006 - Spent the first two months in Yemen, feeling as isolated, yet under a microscope, as I ever have or ever hope to. I wouldn't change the experience but it was one of the hardest things I've ever done. Came home for a friends' wedding and had to do some serious thinking about whether to continue as a road warrior or give it up. I had some opportunities that presented themselves, and decided to hang up my traveling shoes for a while. Continued to hang out with this new guy, Keith. Then realized somewhere along the way that I'd fallen in love with this friend of mine around whom I felt totally comfortable and totally myself. So we got engaged that September. I ruptured a disc in my lower back that December.

2007 - My niece Katie was born on January 16, I had back surgery on January 17, and my wedding shower on January 21st. Yowza. I recovered pretty well from surgery, after learning to let people do things for me when I needed it. We got married on March 16, 2007, which coincided with an ice storm/blizzard. Dammit. Despite the weather, many more people that I had expected made it out to celebrate with us, and it was the most fun I have ever had. Keith's mom had been suffering from liver disease and her condition deteriorated rapidly that spring. After much deliberation (and after she stabilized following many sleepless nights for us in the hospital), we went to Italy on our honeymoon, as planned, and returned home to find that they had found a donor liver and she'd had a liver transplant two days before we arrived back in DC. That fall I led the next mission trip to France and we spent some extra time in Paris at the end of the trip with some very close friends.

2008 - I started a new job and changed my name. Both were challenging for me. I traveled to Alaska and Guam, Keith and I started talking about when we'd like to think about starting a family. The answer was "not yet".

2009 - We welcomed a lot of new babies into our circle of friends, I started knitting again and have found it really very soothing. I retired from the Rape Crisis Center. We replaced his old car, Whitey, with a new Ford Escape hybrid that we call Angus. We are very grateful for Angus. We decided that we would start trying to have a baby in the spring of 2010. Keith lost his job and mine became more stressful than I can ever remember it being. We put family plans on hold pending a little more stability. Traveled to Puerto Rico to be with Keith's brother as he got married and took some much-needed (and pre-paid) time for ourselves at the end. Returned home, and after growing tired of crying on my way to and from work most days, I accepted that I am having a really hard time managing my life right now. So I started seeing a therapist. I have done a lot of soul-searching to ponder whether I'm really heading in the right direction, career-wise. I have more questions than answers at this point.

So there you have it. I'd say that at the age of 23, I probably wouldn't have guessed that I'd be where I am today. That's something of a comfort when I look ahead and have difficulty seeing through anything other than the lens of the hard time we're going through now. What would I like to be writing about in 2020? I can't always see that far ahead - but that's okay for now.

I had noticed, that, while not devoid of good things by any stretch, the odd-numbered years tended to be harder. In retrospect, while it's easy to say that they just sucked more, I think that's not true - they were harder because I had to learn a hell of a lot more. And while that can often suck in the moment, I have to say that looking back over all of it, I have usually emerged better for it. That which does not kill us and all that. Having said that, I'd still really like for 2010 to be a little easier, if that's okay.

Much like they say married couples keep having the same four fights over the course of their marriage, I find that I'm still struggling with some of the same things. Balance. Identity. Direction. Self-forgiveness. I know myself much better than I did then, I'm much stronger and more self-assured than I was then, and thank God for that. I've had a fairly successful career and have developed expertise that I never thought I would. My faith is a much bigger part of my life and it's brought me a wonderful and supportive community. My family has grown and will likely grow bigger in the coming decade. I have wonderful friends that I didn't know 10 years ago and without whom I couldn't imagine my life. I have a loving and supportive husband who can stare all of my crazy in the eye and not blink. I still have Milo and Xena curled up next to me, purring away contentedly. I still have an amazing core group of women in my life that have stuck with me for more than a decade - some of them coming up on two.

On the whole, I'd say I've done pretty well.

Blocked...

noreply@blogger.com (Mandy) — Thu, 13 Aug 2009 06:20:00 +0000

Holy crap - if you want to give me writer's block, just ask me to write a proposal. I've never been good at these things, and this is no exception. This is why I am unlikely to advance beyond a certain level in my company - and honestly, it's okay for now. I have been trying to write six pages *all day long*. I now have 2 1/2, and that's only because of a 1/2 page graphic. If it's technical writing or creative writing, I can do that in my sleep. But here I am, staring at requirements that I have to translate into exciting, sexy-sounding "the Team will..." action statements. And...nothing.

I get that this is absolutely an essential part of business. I really do - and I respect that. All I'm saying is that I am much better positioned to be the person who will do good work that will get you more work, instead of the person who has a BRILLIANT way with persuasive language.

Ah well...a necessary evil, I suppose. I will sleep well tomorrow night, that's for sure.

Irony

noreply@blogger.com (Mandy) — Thu, 06 Aug 2009 14:39:00 +0000

So there I was the other day, singing along (loudly) to a fun, pop-y 80s chick tune as I drove home. Then it occurred to me, I was driving my beloved 1997 Hyundai Elantra (which, once again, does not have functioning air conditioning) and singing along to "Material Girl".

Oh, hardly...

Retirement

noreply@blogger.com (Mandy) — Mon, 27 Jul 2009 00:18:00 +0000

I think it's been a long time coming, but after four active years, and a couple of less active years due to long-term international travel and other things, I've retired as a hospital advocate for the DC Rape Crisis Center. I think I de facto retired a while ago, becoming less and less active, realizing the extent to which my habit of overextending myself had taken a toll, but officially doing it...that was really hard. I can't fully describe how it makes me feel, but a significant era of my life is over. Not that I can't go back, but walking away from something that's had such a profound effect on my life is...hard. I know it's time, I know it's been time, but letting go feels awful - like I'm abandoning something.

Since March 2003, I've spent countless hours at the hospital in the middle of the night, I've seen some of the most horrible things that people can do to each other, and I've seen people in the most raw and vulnerable state imaginable. I've held the hands of women experiencing every meaning of the word "pain". I've seen strength beyond measure. I've seen the profound impact that treating someone with compassion and basic human dignity can have.

I don't think I'll ever forget what I've seen as an advocate - I know my experiences will always be with me. And I'm grateful every day that there are many, many women who continue to sacrifice their time and energy to be a light for someone else in the darkest time imaginable.

They Shoot Delinquent Bloggers, Don't They?

noreply@blogger.com (Mandy) — Mon, 15 Jun 2009 19:05:00 +0000

I know. It's been a while. That's the understatement of the century. To the point where I doubt anyone even checks in here anymore (can't say I blame you - it hasn't exactly been riveting around here). But that's okay - I wrote primarily as an outlet to get what's inside my head outside of my head, anyway.

K and I had a nice weekend, filled with parties for friends and time with family – it was good, and definitely what was needed. (Although I do feel bad that we both seem to ALWAYS fall asleep at my parents’ house.) I feel like we’ve been running around non-stop lately, and it’s not good for either of us, in many respects. I don’t anticipate that it will ever really go away, but I know there has to be a better way to manage it.

We’ve got a garden going again this year, and we just bought materials yesterday to build an enclosure that will, hopefully, keep out whatever has been eating all of our produce in the past. (Little bastards.) One (kind of) funny reminder of the fate of 99% of our strawberries last year are the little strawberry plants that we’re seeing in random places around the yard. So clearly whatever ate all of them stayed around long enough to crap out the seeds and sprout new plants. How considerate! At least it’s organic, right?

Work has been good for me lately – really, really busy, but good. I got a performance award in March and a promotion in April – probably the first one I’ve ever gotten. I mostly got it because I was doing the work required of the position already, and my boss had told me that he would want to promote me anyway. It is nice to feel actually appreciated for all the work I do – I am acutely aware that not everyone gets to feel that way, regardless of how hard they may be working. (Which was absolutely the case with my previous employer.) So I continue to be really happy where I am, and really happy with my decision. I don’t think my current ambitions extend much further up the corporate ladder for now, and I’m comfortable with that. I’m good at what I do. Some day, after K and I have had kids and after they’re older, perhaps – but for now I don’t think I’m willing to make the tradeoffs required. I work hard, but in the grand scheme, I’m not that important. That’s fine. Although I do still find it kind of funny that I’m considered a “subject matter expert”. I mean – it’s true, I know my stuff. So much so that my clients want me to come work for them, which is very flattering. But I guess sometimes I still feel like the 23-year old department assistant at the conservation organization I used to work for, who had to push to do anything that would contribute to my professional growth. Then I look in the mirror, and it’s quite clear that I’m the 33-year old consultant who has worked really hard for the last 10 years. That’s always a surreal experience.

I’m going to be able to transfer to my firm’s Rockville office, and K and will likely move out to that part of the county in the next few years. Having a new car and watching the mileage leap ever higher week after week has made us acutely aware that we spend WAY to much time driving around the Beltway. So, since our church and many, but not all, of our friends are out that way, it just makes sense. Even in our current location, Rockville will be a better commute for me. I’m disturbed sometimes at how suburban my life is becoming, and I’m having a hard time with that. So now I’m just trying to figure out a way for it to make sense for me – whatever that is. I feel like a hypocrite – someone who is indulging in an unsustainable lifestyle for the sake of convenience and becoming more and more a part of the problems I see.

I am very happy to say that my physical therapy worked quite well, and I’m back to running again. Nothing tremendously impressive yet, but I’m almost up to 2 miles, and my back is feeling good. I had been sitting at 1 mile, give or take, for a little while and not budging – or rather, not pushing myself. Telling myself that I couldn’t. So one day, I decided that I was going to do 1.5. And I even put it on Facebook, so you know I really meant it. (Mostly, I just wanted the accountability.) So I did. I thought I was going to die, but I did it – I pushed through the feeling that my lungs were collapsing as someone was stabbing me in the side, and I did it. It wasn’t pretty, but I felt quite a sense of accomplishment. Now, I have friends for whom that’s just their warm-up, so I realize that this isn’t an accomplishment that’s going to change the face of the running world. But I was happy for me.

I kept at 1.5 long enough to feel like I wasn’t going to die, and then started to build from there, some weeks adding on more than others. I’m up to 1.9, and will be very happy to go sailing past 2 in the next week or so. It’s still really, really hard for me. But since I’ve realized that it’s the only time my Inner Critic is nice to me, I keep up with it. It really gives me a sense of satisfaction that few other things do. Two days a week for now, out of deference to my back (which has been holding up really well!) and my knee (which is not holding up as well – so more PT for me). I’m working my way up to a 3 – 4 mile maintenance run, 3 – 4 days per week. It could be a while still, but I figure that if I can do what I’m doing and still be feeling good, then I can do that, too. Why not?

In my continuing quest for balance, I’m trying to narrow down the “extracurricular activities” in which I participate. So that has meant actually resigning from a couple areas in church where I’ve been serving for a long time, but where I’m not feeling like I need to be. I’m there because I can do it well, not because it’s something I love. It was a really hard decision, wracked with guilt because I’m a people-pleaser and easily overextend myself. I’m also trying to say no to things that I think will end up being one more thing on my plate that I won’t feel good about. I know that some people are really disappointed in me for this – think that I could be a leader and I’m just not doing it. This is also really hard for me – the feeling of guilt really sucks, feeling as though I’m letting people down. It’s an awful feeling, and it’s very easy for people to pile on the pressure. But the fact is that I’ve spent a lot of time saying “yes” to things that I didn’t really have time for, and I’m realizing just how burned out I am. I’m having a hard time mustering the energy to care about much of anything, and that bothers me because that’s not me. I was feeling like all the things I was doing, I was doing half-assed. And that’s not me, either. So, on the advice of a wise friend, I am taking the summer off from serving on Sunday mornings entirely, and will keep up with my two weekly areas of ministry, youth group and our small group. Once the fall rolls around, I’ll be doing youth services on the Sundays that Special K plays.

This past Sunday was the first day that K was playing and I wasn’t doing anything. So I dropped him off at church, and went to the gym for a nice, long morning swim. I love swimming, and it’s probably been at least 7 or 8 months since I last went. It was hard, because I haven’t gone for so long, but I was patient, got my breathing right again, and made it for a full mile – after thinking I would have to stop at less than a tenth. It was a slow mile, but it was a mile. I felt wonderful. I cleaned up, bought some t-shirts at Target on my way back (because I realized that I’d managed to get rid of almost all of mine in the last year or so, except for workout shirts – no idea how or why, but as the warm weather approaches, I’ve become acutely aware of their absence), and I went to church. And for the first time in a long time, I was able to really experience and enjoy church. It was awesome. I believe that serving and contributing is really important, and I think that most people opting to only show up at church and then go home – as if everything that needs to happen just happens by magic - is why those people who do volunteer get burned out so frequently. I do believe that this hurts our church, as it would hurt any community where more people take than give, so I’m happy to serve. But it was also really, really nice to feel like there was a little more balance to the equation for me. (And of course I helped to tear down and pack up after services.)

So, as much as this summer is already packed for us, I’m feeling happy that I’m making some progress. My brother and his family are coming to visit in a week, and I’m ridiculously excited about it – it’s been a year since we’ve seen them, and I really, really miss them all. I’m sure that I’ll just fall over with shock at how big the kids have gotten. We’re also going to be able to see some old friends that we’ve been trying to schedule a visit with for…well, forever. And as it turns out, after months of “well, that weekend doesn’t work for us, how about 6 months from now?”, J and I will see each other three times this summer – June, July, and August, which I’m really, really happy about. I’m also getting to go visit A in Portland (with J), and M and J are coming to visit from their respective homes in August. Lots and lots of things to celebrate. Life looks pretty different from how it was a year ago – and who knows what it will look like this time next year. I have a lot to be grateful for.

I don’t always know how I ended up where I am, but I know it’s part of a process and a picture bigger than I can see – I just hope I’m following the right signs, because I feel a little lost sometimes.

Buried...

noreply@blogger.com (Mandy) — Sun, 15 Mar 2009 04:39:00 +0000

In work. Fortunately, they're hiring another person, but right now I feel like I can't keep up with anything and I'm getting sloppy. This is not good - particularly as my performance review is right around the corner. Urgh. I barely have time to think, let alone write (which is therapeutic for me), exercise (ditto), and spend real quiet time with Special K. It doesn't count if we both happen to be quiet because I'm hooked up to my laptop and incapable of conversing for more than two minutes at a time.

I'm not sure what the difference is - I've been busy before, but maybe I feel more invested now? Maybe I feel as though there's more at stake because I'm still new and have things to prove? I don't know. But my anxiety level is really, really high.

So, to redirect for a second (before I get back to work), here are a few things I'm grateful for:
1 - my second anniversary with Special K is on Monday. Time flies! But it's been good and I couldn't ask for anyone better to go through life with - he sees the crazy in me and hasn't run away yet. Score one for Mandy.
2 -I've been able to see so much of our friends and family lately.
3 - my two kitties who are curled up on the couch next to me, sleeping peacefully as if they just know how incredibly cute they are
4 - I have a job and it's with a good, stable, risk-averse company that I like
5 - Special K and I got a good-sized tax refund this year that will help us meet some goals, and get closer to some others
6 - my latest mammogram eventually came back clear and I got a clean bill of health
7 - I got new running shoes and am working toward getting back on the road
8 - my small group from church is going through a great phase and really feels like it's flourishing
9 - grace
10 - a last-minute work trip to Hawaii at the end of this month - the change of pace will be much appreciated even though I'll only be there for a blink

So there you have it. I'm trying to be aware that there's more to life than work, because I know that's true. I'm also trying out a crazy new thing called boundaries and limits, which will mean cutting back on some things. I fully expect massive guilt to ensue. But I know it will be good.

So Sad

noreply@blogger.com (Mandy) — Thu, 26 Feb 2009 03:06:00 +0000

Our dear friends D and K had to say goodbye to their sweet dog Mac this week. He was such a loving, affectionate dog and I'll always remember his penchant for spooning with me whenever we stayed over. I am firmly of the mind that pets are part of the family, and I know I'll be devastated when I have to say goodbye to Milo and Xena (which is why I've instructed them that I expect them to live another 40 years). So I know they're heartbroken, as am I.

All this to say that we'll miss you, Mac.

noreply@blogger.com (Mandy) — Wed, 28 Jan 2009 18:02:00 +0000

Work has been…intense lately. To which my husband and any of the friends with whom I’ve had to either decline or cancel plans can attest. Bleah. But at least I’m not concerned about running out of things to do, right? However, the past two days, and my ability to work from home in general, are something that I consider myself fortunate to have. Because I’m getting just as much work done sitting here in my jammies with the cats curled up next to me (it’s freezing, so we’re pooling our body heat), but I feel so much more…relaxed. It’s a delightful feeling. And if Xena weren’t curled up on my legs, I’d probably get up to make myself a nice mug of tea. Later, perhaps.

I’ve been all kinds of introspective lately, which is likely a good thing, in the end. And it’s not just because I did that Facebook “25 Things About Me” note. I jokingly referred to all of this as my mini-existential crisis, but it’s not that far from the truth. I go through periods where I re-evaluate things in my life, where I question whether or not it’s heading in a direction I’m okay with – all of that. So me being me, in all of my Type A, ESFJ-ness, I made a list. I thought about what was really bugging me and wrote it down. I came up with six general things. I then sat down and wrote down what I thought I could do about them. Seriously. And just writing things down and having something in black and white actually made me feel better – because now it’s not this mysterious malaise that I just can’t figure out, it’s an identifiable problem, with identifiable things I can try to work on it.

It’s totally unsurprising to me that I was a science major. I appear to live my life by the scientific method.

Speaking of science, the good folks at Grist made me laugh like an idiot today. And for that, I thank them. They have decided to establish “a regular feature in which Grist's editorial team celebrates -- and carps about! -- notable climate-related steps taken by businesses, politicians, and individuals.” The award for doing good things?

The Green Thumb.

The “award” for doing bad things?

The Angry Polar Bear.

Love them. Absolutely love them. Almost as much as I love hearing the name “President Obama”.

Reflections, Bastard People, and the Year to Come…

noreply@blogger.com (Mandy) — Fri, 02 Jan 2009 19:12:00 +0000

It’s that time of year again – the time where you look back on the year that has passed, look forward to the one ahead, and think about where you’d like to land at the end of it.

Special K and I have had a good year – a busy year, but a good year. We’ve been lucky enough to spend lots of time with family and friends, to leave the metro area a few times (okay – I left more than a few times, but work travel doesn’t really count, especially since the trips were of such short duration), and have enjoyed every minute of it. We really are so incredibly lucky, both as individuals and as a couple, to be surrounded by the people in our lives.
I’m starting 2009 with both a different name and a different job than the ones with which I started 2008 – that’s a mind-boggling change right there. Work has become very, very busy for me, which is good in that they must like my work, and trust my judgment and abilities, but it’s bad in that all the things that you think would come along with 60+ hour weeks are coming along when I have those weeks. It’s got more to do with the particular project on which I’m working than anything else, and my efforts aren’t going unnoticed (unlike at my last place of employment), but the toll on my health and relationships is much the same. I feel exhausted most of the time, and my inability to stay awake on the occasions where I get to actually sit still has become a running joke.

I’m hoping that it will slow down, because it has forced me to cancel plans on occasion, working through the occasional weekend, and I often resent the heck out of it. I’m also less efficient since I’m tired, so that’s not helping things, either. C’est la vie, I suppose. I have a feeling it will pay off in one respect, but I still need to work harder on a better balance. As always, it seems.

Our main goals for 2009 are health-related and financially-related. We both want to be healthier, which means dropping some weight. Which means better eating and more exercising. It also likely means less eating out (which will actually coincide well with our second major goal). We both know what we need to do, and have both been healthier than we are now in life, so it’s not that we’re flying blind. It’s that our priorities and our reality don’t always line up. But my back does feel better, and I know I need to budget for new running shoes soon. Things are moving in a positive direction.

We’re still dealing with debt, although we’ve gotten over one major hurdle so far after a lot of hard work and persistence, and will continue to pay it off as fast as we can. In light of this, we’re making hard choices, like possibly giving up things we want to do because our list of things we have to do is longer and takes precedence. We’re saving up for a down payment on a new car since both of ours are living on borrowed time, and we’re already facing a summer sans air conditioning in either car. Doesn’t seem like a big deal when it’s 30 degrees outside, but it will start to suck as the temperatures head higher. But at the same time, as a wise friend put it, saying “we’re going to go through a phase where things suck now so that they will be good in 5 years” will drive you crazy long before you reach that fifth year. So this, too, is about balance. Always balance.

But here’s a funny. We just managed to pay off our worst credit card, a Chase Mastercard, this past month. It was a long, long road. Right before Special K and I got married, he got nailed with a big tax bill. Big. As in “oh, holy crap, how on earth are we going to pay this?” big. So, I used a low-APR balance transfer check to transfer the balance to my Chase card, which had an existing balance at the time. Now, a common condition of these arrangements is that all of your monthly payments go to the transferred balance until it is paid in full. Okay.

They then jacked up the APR on my existing balance to 29.99%. So it got to just sit there and accrue this obscene level of interest, while we tried to pay off the transferred balance.

I called and complained. They refused to lower the APR, said that my APR has been increased, essentially, because I used my card. They did say, however, that if I was a really good girl, and made all my payments on time for a year, they would lower it by one point. I had never missed a payment in 9 years. I had never even been late with a payment in 9 years.

They are bastard people.

So we worked really hard, used all available “extra” money toward debt (hello, stimulus check…goodbye stimulus check…hello, insurance settlement…goodbye insurance settlement), and managed to get that stupid balance transfer paid off.

In one year, the existing balance had accrued more than $3,000 in interest.

I got a letter from Chase saying that they noticed I’d made large payments to my card, and they hoped they weren’t losing me as a customer. They included some balance transfer checks for my convenience. I laughed. A lot.

We continued to put every “extra” cent toward it, and the card is now paid off. When I called them to change my name (although I don’t use the card, have no plans to use the card, I still thought I should update my information with them), the nice lady from customer service noted, with great concern, that I had accrued a lot of finance charges over the last year. She then began to tell me about a service they offer, for a modest fee, that would allow me to waive my minimums in the event of a job loss, health emergency, etc. She was just so earnest.

So I cut her off as politely as possible, since my blood had started to boil. I crisply informed her that I had actually done a balance transfer in March, 2007, and that they had raised my APR to 30% since I'd had the unmitigated gall to use my card, and refused to lower it. I hadn’t lost my job, I hadn’t had a health emergency, and had, actually, in no way been irresponsible or casual about my payment obligations. So while I appreciated her time, I found it highly entertaining that they were now trying to sell me a product to help me fix a problem that they had created for me.

She transferred me to someone to talk about lowering my APR. Who lowered it to 17.99%. Oh, they have a good sense of humor over there.

So we are continuing to work at our goals, with that major hurdle out of the way I believe that things will move faster, but it will still necessitate some un-fun choices because while we’re closer to our goal, we’re not there yet. This is hard and it’s taking a long time, but we’re grownups and we have to act like it – which means that we have to work for what we want.

I don’t know what’s ahead, but it’s probably more fun that way. The last few years have certainly brought surprises that I couldn’t have foreseen. Special K and I have been talking more about what we want our future to look like, and not just in those “someday” terms, which is interesting and a little scary. But they say that if you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans. We’ll see.

Happy New Year to all!

The Night Shift

noreply@blogger.com (Mandy) — Mon, 15 Dec 2008 07:00:00 +0000

For all two of you still reading, you may have noticed that my writing has dropped off significantly in the last month. This is because of work. Work has been, to use the technical term, completely making me its bitch. These days it's typical for me to get closer to 4 hours of sleep (if that) than 8, most of which come in the form of naps I take on the couch to give myself enough energy to keep going. I know I've hit diminishing returns, but I can't really stop because the project that is responsible for all of this nocturnal (and diurnal) quality time with my laptop just has some extremely aggressive deadlines. Mercifully, that means that it should be of relatively short duration, since there is no wiggle room on our end date. Once I get through the end of January, the major pieces will be done and I can coast a little.

The only really good thing that I can see at present is that it gives me lots of quality time with the kitties, who are currently both curled up against me, rumbling contentedly. But much as his snoring can keep me up, I'd much rather be curled up against Special K, with whom I've been cranky and irritable because I'm totally freaking exhausted and feeling tons of pressure.

Really, I don't know what I like most about this. Falling asleep on my drive to work, stress eating, the persistent pain in my back and hips, or that strung-out feeling that comes with prolonged sleep deprivation. As I've told him before, Special K had better buckle up when we have kids, because I see all of those things coming into play at that time, too.

So there you have it. Since I'm so tired that it's difficult to concentrate, yet I have to get some things done for tomorrow, this is what happens when I need my brain to refresh. I write crap in the middle of the night. Enjoy.

Lemon Bars

noreply@blogger.com (Mandy) — Mon, 08 Dec 2008 20:26:00 +0000

Driving to a party the other day, I was partaking of a delicious lemon bar, because it's that time of year and the baked goods are plentiful. And tasty.

Special K looked over at me and started laughing because, as he pointed out, I had managed to get powdered sugar all down the front of my black jacket and onto my lap.

"Honey, you're going to have to clean yourself up - it looks like you just got into a fight with the Pilsbury Dough Boy"

In response, I delicately extended my middle finger in a loving gesture of disagreement with his assessment. This only made him laugh harder as he managed to get out the words:

"No, no. It's okay, it looks like you totally kicked his ass."

Humbling

noreply@blogger.com (Mandy) — Mon, 20 Oct 2008 14:59:00 +0000

I think a little dose of humility every now and then is healthy – an experience we don’t always get, and which isn’t always super fun, but nonetheless, one that is healthy. So, as I was beginning PT, my guy said “please don’t take this as being harsh or critical, but you have absolutely no core strength, so once we build that up, you should be feeling a lot better.”

Now, I have never claimed to be an example of athletic prowess or anything. You would hardly look at me and think “elite level” of anything. So I wasn’t insulted, it was more of an “okay – note to self” thing. But I also have to admit to thinking “but hey…I do crunches and stuff…” and being a little surprised. Clearly, not nearly enough of them, so the flat part of my stomach must truly be luck and genetics, as opposed to the result of any kind of effort on my part. But given that genetics is largely responsible for my crappy back and knees, I think that the least it can do is give me a flat(ish) stomach.

(In fact, in case you’re listening, genetics, could you throw in better muscle tone, too? Given the suckfest of the last few years, I think you owe me.)

I now have a huge stability ball taking up far too much space in my living room and I’ve been doing my stretching and strengthening exercises. I’ve been ramping up my exercises in PT and getting a lot stronger and feeling better. So, I’m approaching the end of my time in PT, and I do feel like it’s helped a lot – but the real trick is for me to keep doing all the things they’ve been having me do after I stop going there. I don’t think anything that I’ve been given to do is too difficult or complicated for me to do on my own, I just need to do it.

Which means I’ll need to write it all down because it’s a lot of stuff to remember – my appointments are a lot longer now than they were when I first started.

So that’s been good and encouraging. I’m not sure that I’m as confident as my PT guy that I can be a runner again, but I’ll give it some time, work on getting stronger, and see what happens. I’m trying to think of what kind of reasonable goal I can set for myself as a next step. (I thrive on direction – if I have neither direction nor accountability, I flounder.)

I feel my life changing again, and I’m not sure what it is. I’m really happy with my job right now – I feel like I’m being challenged, I work for a good company with great benefits that has a conscience, which is another great benefit, and I feel like Special K and I are in a healthy place. I think the first year of our marriage was filled with so much chaos, we were just trying to survive most of it. Fortunately the dust has settled a lot; we’re able to see life as it is, including things that we need to work on together to have a stronger marriage, and we both agree that it’s worth working on. I guess life just feels real now. Manageable. I’m sure we’ll go through phases again where I feel like my life is something that I’m watching on a bad TV show – I’m sure of it, because that’s real life, too. But for now, I’m embracing the real.

What She Said...

noreply@blogger.com (Mandy) — Tue, 14 Oct 2008 18:21:00 +0000

This gets at the root of something that's been bugging the crap out of me for more than a year now. I've gotten offensive e-mails about this very subject, and it is nothing more than blind bigotry. So, as Stef said, thank you Campbell Brown.

Commentary: So what if Obama were a Muslim or an Arab?

NEW YORK (CNN) -- You may find it hard to believe that this remains an issue in this campaign, but it does.

The candidates, both candidates, are still getting questions about Barack Obama's ethnicity and religion. If you are even semi-informed, then by now you already know that of course, Barack Obama is an American.

Of course, Barack Obama is a Christian. Yet just a few days ago, there was a woman at a rally for John McCain incorrectly calling Obama an Arab:

Woman at rally: I don't trust Obama. I have read about him and he's an Arab.

Sen. John McCain: No ma'am, no ma'am. He's a decent family man, citizen that I just happen to have disagreements with on fundamental issues. That's what this campaign is all about. He's not, thank you.

Now, I commend Sen. McCain for correcting that woman, for setting the record straight. But I do have one question -- so what if he was?

So what if Obama was Arab or Muslim? So what if John McCain was Arab or Muslim? Would it matter?

When did that become a disqualifier for higher office in our country? When did Arab and Muslim become dirty words? The equivalent of dishonorable or radical?

Whenever this gets raised, the implication is that there is something wrong with being an Arab-American or a Muslim. And the media is complicit here, too.

We've all been too quick to accept the idea that calling someone Muslim is a slur.

I feel like I am stating the obvious here, but apparently it needs to be said: There is a difference between radical Muslims who support jihad against America and Muslims who want to practice their religion freely and have normal lives like anyone else.

There are more than 1.2 million Arab-Americans and about 7 million Muslim-Americans, former Cabinet secretaries, members of Congress, successful business people, normal average Americans from all walks of life.

These are the people being maligned here, and we can only imagine how this conversation plays in the Muslim world. We can't tolerate this ignorance -- not in the media, not on the campaign trail.
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Of course, he's not an Arab. Of course, he's not a Muslim. But honestly, it shouldn't matter.

One Down, Fifteen to Go

noreply@blogger.com (Mandy) — Mon, 29 Sep 2008 18:16:00 +0000

I had my first physical therapy session Friday night, and have another one tonight. For the time being, I’ve been given stretching exercises to do to help loosen up things that haven’t healed as well as they might. The guy I’m seeing said that I have a classic case of post-laminectomy syndrome (laminectomy is one of the things I had done when I had back surgery), but that they could help me a lot, it would just take some hard work. Not a problem, I just need a plan of action. I looked it up when I got home and “post-laminectomy syndrome” is another one of those catch-all terms that’s used to describe people who have persistent/recurring pain after certain kinds of back surgery. It’s also called “failed back syndrome”.

I saw that, and I have to admit, my inner nerd got all kinds of pissed off. I thought to myself “I don’t fail things. Screw that. I’m fixing it.”

So that’s my plan of action – whether or not I have to drag my body kicking and screaming back to full health and mobility, that’s where it’s going. Granted, sometimes my body has a way of being spectacularly uncooperative (as evidenced by…well, by any number of things), but I’ve managed to get over that in the past – I have chondromalacia and patellofemoral pain syndrome (fancy words that mean “crap knees”) and I barely notice it in regular life, except for when regular life requires sitting for long periods of them, then I’m a little stiff-legged until I can shake it off. It hurts, and there are things I avoid doing (but I never cared much for step aerobics anyway), so I don’t feel like it has significantly slowed me down.

So, you see, this is where my obstinacy pays off. This is not to say that I will never again wallow – I’m quite sure that I will, at least once in a while. But this is a good start for me. Plus, my PT guy seems to be fairly confident that they can help me.

Work continues to be good, if busy. (Although, I say that like it’s a bad thing – it’s really not. I like to be busy at work, it beats the heck out of being bored.) I think we have some fun things coming up for the fall, and we already had the very fun, and very wonderful wedding Brunette a few weeks ago. Time is truly flying by, it’s crazy how fast it goes.

(Sadly, my camera decided to crap out on me, so we have no actual photos of our own, but many others captured the event.)

And with that…I’ll be off.

And Now I Know

noreply@blogger.com (Mandy) — Fri, 26 Sep 2008 13:14:00 +0000

So, I was looking at my physical therapy prescription yesterday, and saw under diagnosis "DDD - l-spine", and I thought, "hey - I wonder what that is?" Because it would be kind of inappropriate for my doctor to make a guess about my bra size, after all.

And then I realized that it stands for degenerative disc disease. Which is something that happens normally as your body ages, I'm just...well, I think I'm just an overachiever, because I'm far too young for this to be happening - by about 20+ years. (Not that it doesn't happen to people my age, it just doesn't normally happen to people my age.) So I'm processing what this means, what it's going to mean in the future, and all that. Honestly, it doesn't change anything, it just gives it a crappy name. I do worry about what a far-off pregnancy will do to my body, since my spine is already older and weaker than I am. I do worry about whether or not my physical abilities will continue to decline as I get older. But I know that worrying isn't going to do anything, so I need to figure out what's going to make it better. Perhaps it just makes the case for budgeting for Pilates classes or anything that will help strengthen my core. Perhaps it continues to make the case for losing those last 20 pounds that seem to be holding onto my ass for dear life. (Already working on that last part.)

So that's life. Or at least, that's my life. I'll be fine, I just need to let myself think about how it sucks for a little while, and then I'll move on. I respond well to a plan of action, so hopefully PT will give me that.

Not Fair

noreply@blogger.com (Mandy) — Wed, 24 Sep 2008 04:47:00 +0000

So, I had a doctor's appointment today. With my orthopedist. Because I'm doing everything that I think I'm supposed to be doing, and I'm still getting back pain - pain which has, by the way, been getting worse.

Yes, I probably lift things that are heavier than I should lift on occasion, but I rarely wear high heels, I've taken to wearing sensible shoes to work and keeping more work-appropriate shoes at my desk, I don't run anymore, I walk, swim, weight train, and do isometric exercises for my back, I have a little freaking orthopedic seat cushion that I keep to make my incredibly uncomfortable desk chair a little more tolerable. I try to take care of myself, and my body keeps telling me to piss off.

So I need to make an appointment with a physical therapist and talk to my doctor again in a month. And I need to try not to get too bitter and overwhelmed and scared that I'll be right back where I was in December 2006, but I'm feeling some familiar pain, and you know what? Right now, it feels like it's not f*cking fair. There are so many people in the world who are perfectly capable of being as active as they want to be, and they do nothing. I want to run and I can't. I want to do a triathlon one day and I can't. I want to go through a full day without pain, and lately, I can't. So there's my pity party. Please help yourself to some hors d'oeuvres.

I know that I don't know anything for certain just yet, so it's far too early to be playing Chicken Little. I am self-aware enough to know that, even if I have re-injured myself, this will not be a tragedy. I will still have the use of my limbs and still, in the grand scheme of life, be a very lucky person for being in generally good health, having access to good medical care, and having a support network of people who love me and can help me if I can ever possibly learn to be good at asking for help. I know this - I really, really know this. So I hope you'll forgive my moments of weakness and self-indulgence when I say that the thought of going through this again just makes me want to cry.

Food for Thought

noreply@blogger.com (Mandy) — Thu, 18 Sep 2008 13:46:00 +0000

I don't usually post e-mail forwards and such, but since I'm completely baffled as to why this is even a close contest, I offer the following snippet:

With America facing historic debt, 2 wars, stumbling health care, a weakened dollar, all-time high prison population, mortgage crises, bank foreclosures, etc.

Educational Background:

Obama:
Columbia University - B.A. Political Science with a specialization in International Relations.
Harvard - Juris Doctor (J.D.) Magna Cum Laude

& Biden:
University of Delaware - B.A. in history and B.A. in political science.
Syracuse University College of Law - Juris Doctor (J.D.)

vs.

McCain:
United States Naval Academy - Class rank 894 of 899 (legacy appointment)

& Palin:
Hawaii Pacific University - 1 semester
North Idaho College - 2 semesters - general study
University of Idaho - 2 semesters - journalism
Matanuska-Susitna College - 1 semester
University of Idaho - 3 semesters - B.A. in journalism

Now, which team are you going to hire ?

It Makes Me Sad..

noreply@blogger.com (Mandy) — Wed, 17 Sep 2008 18:04:00 +0000

...to have good reason, yet again, to say that I'm so glad I'm not in Yemen anymore.

It really is a beautiful and interesting country. Not that my experiences there were all that great, but I can honestly say that I'm glad I was there and went through it all, as it doesn't seem likely that I'll be going back any time soon. Truly a unique opportunity, and truly a very troubled country.

Reflecting

noreply@blogger.com (Mandy) — Wed, 10 Sep 2008 14:59:00 +0000

Work is good these days (although I have my six-month review coming up, so we’ll see if they think I’m good), but busy. Not insane-like-my-old-job busy, but certainly busy. Although it’s nice to know that if I work a 12 or 14-hour day, I can actually record it. My pay doesn’t change because I’m a salaried employee (which is fine, I’m quite content with my compensation), but at least I can acknowledge it if I’m busting my tail. I like what I’m doing – it’s interesting and I’m pretty good at it. That’s a nice feeling. In a world of morons brainlessly chanting “drill, baby, drill!” with no appreciation of the consequences and underwhelming “benefits” of such a disastrous policy, it’s of some comfort to know that I can still do work that has some beneficial impact to the environment, and educate others about it. It’s always been my biggest issue, and something that has motivated both my education and my entire professional life, although I get teased about it from time to time.

I guess I really don’t understand why “environmentalist”, and “feminist” for that matter, are pejorative terms in the eyes of so many, especially since I consider myself to be both. Why is it bad to want to protect our natural resources and God’s creation from short-sighted greed and exploitation? Why is it bad to think that women should be paid equally and treated equally? Why is basic human dignity threatening? I think Anna Quindlen said it best, but I’d be more entertained by the far right’s sudden interest in feminism and sexism if it weren’t for the fact that so many people are now buying the act.

But then again I also don’t understand the desire for so many people to want someone to whom they can relate to be President. I want someone smarter than me making those kinds of decisions, and I think I’m a fairly smart person. I don’t care whether or not I’d want to have someone over for a cookout at my house, but I do want our President to be intelligent, thoughtful, and a good leader who is curious about the world. Why is that not of primary importance?

Feel free to call me a tree-hugging, bleeding heart liberal if you'd like. I'm not ashamed of the label.

Home

noreply@blogger.com (Mandy) — Fri, 05 Sep 2008 02:00:00 +0000

Well, I’m finally home and cognizant of the correct time and day! The project went really well, I think I managed to impress a couple people, and there was rumored a possibility of doing this again next year. It’s funny, because while my vacation tastes tend to run more toward the “hey, let’s go see and do cool stuff in places we haven’t been to before!” kind of thing, after a few days in a beautiful tropical environment where you can just sit by a pool, with or without an umbrella drink, and let all your worries evaporate from your mind in the hot sun, I have to admit there’s something to be said for the “we’re going away to relax and do nothing” vacation as well. I don’t think I could spend more than a few days doing it without getting bored senseless, but I can definitely see its merits. Fortunately, work kept me quite busy most of the time, so I didn’t have the opportunity to get bored.

Sunday evening, I was sitting out on the terrace, having just ordered my dinner. I was reading my book and seriously nodding off, as the traveling was taking a toll. I was jolted back to consciousness by an explosion of sound coming from my right, where there was a small stage and some sort of allegedly traditional but stereotypical-looking Polynesian dance routine, complete with hula girls and flaming torches. As the sound dissolved out into the night air, I willed my sandwich to arrive faster, so that I could escape to the relative quiet of my room. I woke up once around 1 am, but made it back to sleep without too much lost time. Monday was all about meetings in the morning, and chilling out a little more in the afternoon. I took a swim in the pool and laid out in the sun a bit. I got in a good workout, and then had another fairly early night.

We arrived about 15 minutes later than we’d wanted to on Tuesday morning, but still well before any class participants. We knew we’d need to set up the room ourselves, so we set about doing that, and trying to find the right person to help us with a few logistical matters. People started to file in, warily looking at us, clearly hoping that we wouldn’t torture them with boredom over the next two days. All I can say on that front is that we certainly tried not to. The first day started off a little slowly, with people resisting my efforts to participate, but by the end of the day, we had introduced an activity that had everyone participating, which was good. We were given the presentation materials and they were okay…not what my co-presenter M or I would have done, and not completely tailored to the audience, but we made it work.

That night, for whatever reason, I woke up at about 1:30 in the morning and either elected not to go back to sleep, or I just couldn’t. I had some changes I wanted to make to our presentation, but I had crashed early that night, so my mind was racing with the things that I knew I needed to accomplish. I made a couple of phone calls (before I realized that Verizon may very well turn up an astronomical phone bill as a result. One person told me that they were charged international rates for calls made to and from Guam. They had to fight to prove that Guam is, indeed, part of the United States, since it’s a US territory. There are even US post offices there. It counts. I’m prepared for a long conversation if our bill is horrifying.), then officially got up and pulled out my laptop. The second day was better, people were looser and more comfortable by that point, so they talked and asked questions more. We burned through the material quickly and were able to wrap up by lunch time, finishing with a group exercise that got everybody going and really pulled everything together. Overall, M and I felt as though the trip was a success, and he was very complimentary of my contributions, which I appreciated.

After we wrapped up, a former co-worker of M’s who is now on Guam offered to give us a brief tour of their part of the island, and I’m so glad we took him up on it. It’s a teeny little tropical island, but there’s plenty of breathtaking scenery to be had, particularly around Tarague Beach, on the northern end. We were driving down a gently descending road, lined with lush vegetation, when we came around a corner, and the road dropped away sharply. The view out across the beach, which is surrounded by a former palm tree plantation (still noticeable by the too-perfect rows of trees grown for coconuts, which aren’t indigenous to the island), is beautiful and enormous. Once we got down to the actual beach, the sparkling white sand contrasted with the pale aqua of the water along the shoreline. About 50 feet out from the shore, the water turned a very dark blue – we were told that it signified a 60-foot drop off in the reef, where all too many people had gotten sucked under the tide. So…beautiful, but I’m not likely to venture out too far without a tow line.

I decided to go for one last swim before I left, since my flight departed at 4 am on Thursday. I wanted to get out into the bay, but was told that the coral along the bottom was very sharp, and my footwear was inadequate. Well – next time, I suppose. Since I never did get to take that kayak out.

After a relaxing afternoon in and by the pool (keep in mind that I still managed to retain my ghostly pallor), I headed back to my room to pack and attempt a nap before leaving for the airport around 1 am. I ordered dinner, which was okay – nothing to really write home about, but not awful, either. I took a nap, and woke up late…whoops. Fortunately, I still had two hours to get to the airport and the Guam airport is not large. At all. I made it there with 90 minutes to spare before my flight departed, so I was able to check in without raising my blood pressure. They upgraded my seat from Guam to Osaka to a first class seat (which would have been even better on my flight from Osaka to San Francisco, but I will happily take what I can get!), and after I spent a little time perusing the duty free shops (which are, apparently, open at 3 am in the Guam airport), I settled into my seat to wait for boarding.

The flight to Osaka was a little bumpy, but nothing unpleasant – I slept through most if it, as I imagine the rest of my fellow travelers did. We arrived in Osaka, and I was glad that I hadn’t attempted to put on any makeup, like I did on my way there. I had arrived in Osaka the first time looking as though I was in the middle of the world’s longest Walk of Shame. Not good.

The airport was quite empty and most things were closed as it was still early morning hours. I had been hoping to find out some information about Osaka and the surrounding environs so that I could leave the airport during my ten hour layover. That was not meant to be, so I found some WiFi, sat down near an outlet, and did some e-mail and read some articles, etc. At some point I drifted off to sleep for a bit (hardly surprising), and did a good bit of just plain wandering around the airport. I even tried to watch a movie on Netflix with their “Watch It Now!” feature, but apparently it doesn’t work if you’re outside the U.S. Boo… I

I did amuse myself and pass the time by people-watching. I noticed something that I’ve seen in Vietnam and that we saw all the time in Taiwan – people wearing clothing with English writing on it that makes no sense, and is occasionally borderline obscene. (In some cases, way across the border into full-blown obscene.) Now, I see people here with clothing and accessories that are characters from a particular Asian language that I’m sure also make no sense to the native speakers of said language. Including my tattoo – it actually needs one more character to mean what I want it to mean, so my original reference book lied to me. But at least it doesn’t mean “raging whore” or something. It could be worse.

But getting back to my point. I think my favorites were a girl wearing a white t-shirt with “Lost Brother” written on it in a handwriting-style font, a kid wearing a blue shirt with a gold print that said “Golden Eye” and “True Love” on it, and my favorite, a girl who was probably in her early 20s wearing plaid knee shorts, white sneakers, and a blue shirt that said “I Like It Tasty” on the front.

Awesome.

The hour finally arrived for me to shuffle down to my gate. I stopped for a bowl of udon noodles with tofu and green onions (yummy….), and went to my boarding area. The plane took off on time, and all was well.

Until dinner.

You see, I’m occasionally lactose intolerant, and when my body is under stress (such as criss-crossing the international date line a few times in a few days), it comes roaring back to life. And it’s uncomfortable, to say the least. So I’d called the airline, after a dairy-filled meal from my way from San Francisco to Osaka, and asked for a non-dairy meal for my return flights. They said that all they could do was a vegetarian non-dairy meal. I said that would be fine – I was vegetarian for a long while, and I’ve had plenty of delicious vegan food in my life.

This was not that food. This was a cooked tomato in its juice, with five pieces of baby corn and some bland yellow rice with no spice or flavor to speak of. Plus a bread roll with margarine (fine), and some bizarre gelatinous dessert-type thing. Oh my. I was hungry, and it was edible, it just wasn’t…well, it wasn’t what I would have voluntarily fed myself ever.

It was somewhat compensated for by my amusement at a guy in front of me who got up to get his bag out of the overhead compartment, displaying much crack in the process, whose shirt said “SO Wonderful!” across the back.

Indeed.

After many more hours in the plane, during which I watched “Prince Caspian” (very good) and “What Happens in Vegas” (irretrievably stupid, but I must admit to laughing out loud in a couple places) and slept as much as possible, we arrived in San Francisco. I made my way to my connecting flight, through a security line that was way too long, and stopped to get dinner at a burrito place, then sat down to wait for my final flight to board, which happened about 6 minutes after I arrived at the gate. Nick of time, much?

The flight back to DC was delayed because the pilot and first officer were delayed from a previous flight, but we did eventually make it into the air, without any significant delay. Unfortunately when we landed in DC, they couldn’t get the jetway hooked up to the plane. Just…couldn’t. The pilot thanked us for our patience, then chuckled and said “like you have a choice…” After all the power cut out on the plane and we sat through another 10 minutes or so of waiting, during which time the guy next to me looked at his watch and said “oh hey – my flight to Frankfurt is boarding now…”, we finally were allowed to exit the plane.

I was glad that I hadn’t checked any bags, because Special K and I found each other quickly and went out to the car to start the drive home. Until we realized that there was no food in the house, so we made a brief detour to the Silver Diner, where I had a crab cake and he had a crab cake melt, and then went to the house. We stayed up for a little bit, and eventually collapsed into bed around 2 am. This was actually a good idea, because I slept until a little past 9 am without waking up. Or probably even rolling over, since I was so tired.

And then we flew to Cincinnati that day. Seriously. I unpacked and packed simultaneously. We had long-standing plans to go see J and S, and a little thing like a trip to Guam wasn’t going to stand in the way of that. Our weekend went by far too quickly, even though it was a long one, in a blur of good food and good friends and all those things. I’m really happy to see that they’re settling in well in Cincinnati, but I’d be lying if I said I don’t miss them lots. E is getting so big it’s just crazy, and he’s so freakishly articulate for a kid who is not-quite three. He counts, he reads, he talks in full intelligible sentences, it’s amazing. He will also eat just about anything they put in front of him, which is something Keith and I aspire to. I realize that all kids go through phases, but if we end up with a picky eater in our family…well, that’s going to be one skinny kid because I’m not making separate dinners for everyone. But E scarfed up chili-rubbed tilapia, jicama salad, and pasta with pesto and zucchini with the rest of us, it was great!

Monday rolled around far too soon, and we spent the morning pretending that we didn’t live so far apart anymore. But then we had to get ready to go to the airport and couldn’t get around it any longer. Meah. We headed home, glad to be home, but sad to leave.

And now I’m back at home and back at work and finally done with my expense reports. It’s been a crazy couple of weeks, and the cats have given me a couple accusatory looks, as if they suspect that I was trying to abandon them, but I think that overall, they’ve forgiven me. In the coming weeks, Brunette is getting married (eeee!!!!), Special K is going to CA on a business trip, and I’m attempting to do as little as possible. I’ll let you know how it works…

Reflections

noreply@blogger.com (Mandy) — Mon, 25 Aug 2008 08:31:00 +0000

I was sitting by the pool this afternoon, heavily squinting in the sunshine as I read (and finished) my book in between refreshing dips in the pool. Basking away there under the bright, tropical sun, slathered in SPF 50 sweatproof sunblock, I just couldn’t get away from one thought. I really, really miss Special K. I know it sounds cheesy, and I do apologize if any of you throw up in your mouths a little, but you’ll either have to stop reading or bear with me. It’s just that, even when we’re stressed out and I’m being pissy (because, let’s face it, it’s usually me being pissy), I always have more fun with him. I guess that’s what happens when you marry your best friend – you get to be with them all the time, and then when you don’t, it feels like there’s something missing, and then you realize that it’s them. It doesn’t kill you or mean that you cease to function or anything, but it’s just…not what it could be.

And then you wonder how on earth you got to be such a huge cheese ball.

And then you decide to just ride that wave, because you’ve already learned to embrace your inner (and outer) geek, so this should be pretty easy to swallow in comparison.

One Ticket to Paradise

noreply@blogger.com (Mandy) — Mon, 25 Aug 2008 07:18:00 +0000

I arrived in Guam at about 3 am, after what can only be described as the longest afternoon I’ve ever experienced. It started at 6:50 am on Friday at Dulles, when my flight for San Francisco departed. Or, I should say, was supposed to depart. There was one tiny snag – the first officer wasn’t there. Not delayed from another flight or anything, just…not there. They boarded about a third of the plane before they realized that he wasn’t going to be there and then they stopped. They apologized for the delay and said that we’d be delayed until at least 7:40. Just because he wasn’t there.

I dozed off in my seat, and woke up around 7:30 when the rest of the passengers boarded the plane. The first officer still wasn’t there, but I suppose they felt that if they boarded it, he would come. Or something like that. At about 7:45, he sauntered onto the plane, stopped before entering the cockpit, turned and waved hello to the cabin. To all 60-some people who wanted to tell him to go straight to Hell. I didn’t have a very long layover in San Francisco, and I was concerned that I wouldn’t make the connection. Since I couldn’t do anything about it, I just decided to attempt to relax, to read my book, and to nap. Once the plane landed in San Francisco, I got my bags together (grateful that I wasn’t checking anything) and waited for the doors to open. I felt someone pushing past me, and I looked around to see a woman nudging her way to the front, who said “Oh, I’m sorry, I’ve got a connection to make.” I looked at her pleasantly and said “oh, so do I.” She said gravely “well, I’ve got to get all the way up to Oregon.” I said “oh, that’s nice. I’m trying to get to Osaka.” She looked at me blankly, and in her best Romper Room voice said, “Oh, and where is Osaka?”, and I smiled at her and said “Japan.” Her eyes widened a little. Fortunately, they opened the doors and the seemingly interminable conversation was over.

Despite our considerable delay due to First Officer LazyAss, I made it to my gate with about 15 or 20 minutes to spare before boarding began, which I used to buy some chick magazines. I had brought three books with me, one of which I’d already finished on the flight to San Francisco, so I thought some supplementary material would be a good idea.

The flight was uneventful, a little turbulence, but nothing that bothered me too much. I got to watch Kung Fu Panda, which was totally delightful, and see Iron Man again, which still kicks ass and must be made part of our permanent collection once available. I also started on my next book, Traveling Mercies by Anne Lamott. It’s a fantastic memoir, primarily reflections on her faith and her journey. It’s that kind of “I laughed, I cried” book, and it’s just…well, it’s just great. She’s brutally honest about her life, about her brokenness, about her community, the losses she’s suffered, and the joy that she’s found in her life. I love the book so far (I’m not done yet, but I don’t expect my feelings to change significantly) because she’s just so real – she doesn’t pretend to have it all figured out, she doesn’t pretend that she hasn’t made mistakes and didn’t continue to make them after becoming a Christian, she doesn’t put forward some fake “Jesus changed my life and then everything was perfect” story. It’s true that her faith and her relationship with Jesus did change her life profoundly. But it’s also true that, like all of us, she continued to be a real human being, and like all real human beings, she continued to make mistakes and tried to do better.

I think one of my favorite passages so far was when her new car broke down in the middle of traffic, and all the surrounding drivers were honking their horns and yelling and screaming, and she asked her son Sam to pray with her about it. He says “Sure Mom, just one minute.” At which point he puts his head out the window and yells “Stop yelling at us, you f**ing a**holes!!!”, then proceeds to quietly pray with his mom for God to help them figure out how to get out of the situation they’re in.

(Perhaps I can relate because I can make a truck driver blush with some of the things that come out of my mouth on occasion. Not necessarily proud of that, but it’s still true.)

We landed in Osaka, and I followed signs for International Transfers, while just about everyone else headed straight for immigration. I walked…and walked…and didn’t see anything, so I ended up going into the same large immigration room as everyone else. I didn’t know exactly where I was supposed to go, because I didn’t see anything else about international transfers. I figured that, worst case scenario, I just go out and then come back in, since I had seven hours to kill. I heard a voice say “American! Come this way!” and I saw a man gesturing to me and pointing me to the “foreign passports” line. I got in line, but heard a woman ahead of me being told that since she was a transfer, she should go to a different line. My ears perked up, and when she left the line, I indicated that I was also just transferring to another flight and followed her. I wandered around the main terminal for a few minutes, doing some window shopping. I then caught sight of myself in a reflective surface, and realized that I looked like something that had been caught in a drain during a storm. I headed straight for the ladies’ room to clean myself up before I started to frighten small children. It’s amazing what simply washing your face, putting on clean underwear, some fresh deodorant, and a little makeup can do to your self-image. I set out again, feeling a little more human, and found a place to sit down and read a little. I was distracted by a Japanese gameshow that was being played on a large TV screen over my shoulder. It was garishly colored (both the set and the clothing worn by the participants) and I have no idea what was happening, but much hilarity ensued. There was also a musical number by what must be Japan’s answer to the Backstreet Boys, although the only question I thought they ever begged was “why is this necessary??” They were all wearing Abba-esque coordinating silver outfits, complete with long silver coats that had different-colored linings. They danced, they sang, they emoted. It was quite the sight to behold.

I was getting hungry, and reviewed my options. The restaurants featuring local food had, as I’d remembered from a long-ago trip through Narita Airport in Tokyo, garish plastic replicas of their menu offerings outside each establishment. The other restaurant, if you could call it that, was Starbucks. I decided that bland, processed American food would taste just as bad in another country, and that since I like Japanese food, I’d do my best to mime what I wanted. The restaurant offered several things like spaghetti and taco salad, but I figured that I was in Japan, so I’d get Japanese food. The noodle special was a steaming bowl of broth filled with a large tempura-style prawn, seaweed, tofu, scallions, and delicious soba noodles. It was exactly what I wanted, nice and filling, hot, and even though I couldn’t identify one particular ingredient (probably a different type of tofu, if I had to guess), it totally hit the spot.

With some warm food in my belly and still another four hours before boarding, I went down to the gate and took advantage of the fact that the seats in the waiting area don’t have armrests. I laid down across them and slept on and off for a few hours, waking up shivering at one point. I don’t remember it being particularly cold, but I was shivering nonetheless. At 10 pm, seven hours after I’d arrived in Osaka, boarding began. I settled quickly into my seat and dozed off again. It was a fairly bumpy ride to Guam, at least in the beginning, but I was far too tired to care. We arrived at about 3 am, I was in my room by 4, and sound asleep with the shutters drawn by 4:15 after a quick call to Special K to le him know I’d arrived.

I woke up around 9:30 and called down to the spa. That’s the great thing about a place like Guam – it’s a small island, so most of the hotels here are resorts. For $130 a night, I’m staying in a hotel on the water with five swimming pools and a spa. I had decided that the best way for me to feel human after 30-some hours of traveling was to get a massage. I realize that it’s totally an indulgence, but despite my little orthopedic seat cushion, my back, neck, shoulders, and knees were all aching. And having completed by massage, I have to say that it was totally worth the splurge. The only problem is that I, for some reason, have something happen every time I have to lie face-down on those massage tables. For whatever reason, I get a lot of facial swelling, particularly my lips. Well, when she was done, I looked like Jennifer Coolidge with some bad collagen injections. I decided that retreating to my room while the swelling subsided would be a good idea. I’d had some delicious fresh fruit for breakfast, and I ordered grilled prawns for lunch. Mmm…prawns. If only they hadn’t left the heads on them.

Well, you can’t have everything.

So here I am, with a view of Tumon Bay out my balcony window, clouds on the horizon, and some warm, humid air circulating in through my room. The water looks steel blue, and I’m going to see if I can rent a kayak or something later. For now, I’m going to head down to the gym and get some exercise. The swelling in my face has gone down considerably, although it’s not gone completely. I should be able to walk freely without frightening people, but no promises.

I’ve definitely had worse business trips than this.

This is My Brain on Sleep Deprivation

noreply@blogger.com (Mandy) — Sat, 23 Aug 2008 11:03:00 +0000

The Osaka Airport has free WiFi, which is nice.

The seats in their waiting areas are pretty nice, too. I was able to lie down for a bit.

Not thinking I'll have many problems sleeping once I get to my hotel in Guam. Thank goodness.

Today has lasted forever.

But it's definitely a change of pace.

More later from Guam, once I get there.

The Pickle

noreply@blogger.com (Mandy) — Fri, 22 Aug 2008 00:23:00 +0000

The pickle on the crap sandwich that has been this past week...is that it's supposed to rain every day I'm in Guam. I had really been looking forward to a little stolen time by the pool or on the beach to escape life a little.

Nope. That was clearly asking too much.

(In case you're wondering, I'm still wallowing.)

The True Meaning of Loathing

noreply@blogger.com (Mandy) — Thu, 21 Aug 2008 17:00:00 +0000

It's going to cost $2K to fix Whitey.

I hate that car with a passion.

Really, truly hate it.

I will, I promise, put on my big girl pants and deal with it, but I need a moment to think about how much this situation sucks.