Our neighbors are freaking annoying. Right now the guy above us is having a party and everyone up there is stomping around like freaking elephants. I am about a minute away from going over to the buzzer outside and just holding it down.
The people below us do not like our dogs. Twice now we have received notes about the dogs barking but guess what? They forgot that thin walls work both ways. Last Friday while laying in bed, Joey and I were treated to the sounds of their half-hour sex session, including moans, groans and several "Oh my Gods!" Not to mention that she is ugly so that really makes for a nice image in my head.
As much as I am not exactly excited to go to Nigeria, I am so excited to move out of this loud, unfriendly, dirty, cramped rowhouse! At least in Nigeria we will have a big house with no shared walls and nice neighbors!
11.03.2010
11.02.2010
Marathon Woman
Side note: I wrote this post yesterday; however, I didn't want to post it until I uploaded my pictures. Yesterday I was too lazy to get up to get my camera from the other room, which is why I'm posting this today.
I am writing from my bed. You know that phrase, "I feel like I ran a marathon yesterday?" Well, I did. And I am hurting. Laying down is good - until I need to switch positions - bending my legs hurts like hell. Standing up is okay and sitting isn't too bad either its just the transition that sucks - a lot. I look like an old lady, slowly bending my knees and wincing as I try to position myself. Now imagine me at Mass last night at 7:30 - stand up, sit down, kneel - ow ow ow!!!
Yesterday's weather was absolutely perfect for running. Not much of a breeze, a crisp 40 degrees, sunny. One mile in and I was perfectly comfortable in my capris and short-sleeve "technical" tee. The course was packed! 30,000 people ran the Marine Corps Marathon yesterday and it was pretty hard to maneuver. At some points it got a little frustrating because I wanted to run faster and couldn't get around enough people to break away. I had a fabulous run until about mile 22. At mile 20, I felt great. I'd maintained less than a 9 minute mile and was easily within reaching my goal of finishing in under four hours. Somebody had a sign that said "you own this bridge" and I thought hell yes I own this bridge. I thought only 6 more miles - no big deal - its all mental from here - just keep on going. Then I crossed the huge highway bridge - and it just felt like it was never ending. And people started dropping like flies. Everywhere around me people started walking and I was like, no, I'm good, I'm going to keep on running. Then around mile 21 fatigue started to set in and mile 22 was straight up tough. I passed the 23 mile marker and thought "I'm going to throw up." I kept running and the nausea didn't stop and so I gave in and walked for about 2 minutes. I walked to the water station, had a big sip and then started running again - and that's where the pain started. When I stopped running all that lactic acid caught up to my legs so when I started again it felt like they were on fire. But I ran anyways. For about a mile. And then at about 24 I felt like I was going to puke again and had to walk for another few minutes. I looked at my watch and the four hour mark was starting to creep closer and since the nausea had passed I started running again - holy crap it hurt. I ran - which felt more like stumbling at a brisk pace - all the way to the finish - at 4:02. I missed my time by two minutes but God it felt so good to cross the finish line and I honestly almost started crying I was so proud when the Marine put my medal over my head.
So was it worth it? Hell yes! One of the Marines sayings is that "pain is weakness exiting the body." Another sign I read yesterday that I think sums it up perfectly said "Pain is temporary, pride is forever." I am officially a marathoner now and I have to admit, I am pretty proud of myself. Lets be honest here, if I told any of my grade school or high school gym teachers that I was going to run a marathon, they'd never believe it. I mean, I really am not that coordinated. But for some reason, running works and although I won't be going for a run for the next few days, I can't wait for my next marathon.
Thank you again to everyone who donated to St. Jude's to help me run my marathon. My four hours of exertion yesterday definitely doesn't even compare to the months and years of treatment that St. Jude's patients have to endure. I also have to say there is no way I could have done this without my amazingly supportive husband. In addition to all my long runs where he rode his bike behind me, Joey woke up with me at 5:30 am yesterday, rode the Metro with me to the Pentagon, walked the mile to the start line with me and even waited in line with me for 20 minutes for the porta-potty. Then he trekked all across town to cheer me on at as many points along the course as he could. After the race he helped me waddle back home and even went to buy me some Epson salts for my bath.
So where's the next one? Probably in Africa! We had a few of Joey's classmates over for dinner Thursday and two of them had run marathons - one in Ghana and another in Istanbul - so its possible!
| If you look just below the T in "START" you'll see a lady in red on the platform. That was Vice President Joe Biden's wife, Jill, who announced the start. |
I am writing from my bed. You know that phrase, "I feel like I ran a marathon yesterday?" Well, I did. And I am hurting. Laying down is good - until I need to switch positions - bending my legs hurts like hell. Standing up is okay and sitting isn't too bad either its just the transition that sucks - a lot. I look like an old lady, slowly bending my knees and wincing as I try to position myself. Now imagine me at Mass last night at 7:30 - stand up, sit down, kneel - ow ow ow!!!
| The many, many runners waiting to start. I crossed the starting line almost a full five minutes after the canons marked the official start of the race. |
Yesterday's weather was absolutely perfect for running. Not much of a breeze, a crisp 40 degrees, sunny. One mile in and I was perfectly comfortable in my capris and short-sleeve "technical" tee. The course was packed! 30,000 people ran the Marine Corps Marathon yesterday and it was pretty hard to maneuver. At some points it got a little frustrating because I wanted to run faster and couldn't get around enough people to break away. I had a fabulous run until about mile 22. At mile 20, I felt great. I'd maintained less than a 9 minute mile and was easily within reaching my goal of finishing in under four hours. Somebody had a sign that said "you own this bridge" and I thought hell yes I own this bridge. I thought only 6 more miles - no big deal - its all mental from here - just keep on going. Then I crossed the huge highway bridge - and it just felt like it was never ending. And people started dropping like flies. Everywhere around me people started walking and I was like, no, I'm good, I'm going to keep on running. Then around mile 21 fatigue started to set in and mile 22 was straight up tough. I passed the 23 mile marker and thought "I'm going to throw up." I kept running and the nausea didn't stop and so I gave in and walked for about 2 minutes. I walked to the water station, had a big sip and then started running again - and that's where the pain started. When I stopped running all that lactic acid caught up to my legs so when I started again it felt like they were on fire. But I ran anyways. For about a mile. And then at about 24 I felt like I was going to puke again and had to walk for another few minutes. I looked at my watch and the four hour mark was starting to creep closer and since the nausea had passed I started running again - holy crap it hurt. I ran - which felt more like stumbling at a brisk pace - all the way to the finish - at 4:02. I missed my time by two minutes but God it felt so good to cross the finish line and I honestly almost started crying I was so proud when the Marine put my medal over my head.
| Exceptionally unflattering picture of my hips. I blame the pants and the photographer (cough, Joey). But I think this was about mile 17 and I was sick of trying to pull my shirt down over my ass. Just beyond the trees in this photo is the Washington Monument. |
So was it worth it? Hell yes! One of the Marines sayings is that "pain is weakness exiting the body." Another sign I read yesterday that I think sums it up perfectly said "Pain is temporary, pride is forever." I am officially a marathoner now and I have to admit, I am pretty proud of myself. Lets be honest here, if I told any of my grade school or high school gym teachers that I was going to run a marathon, they'd never believe it. I mean, I really am not that coordinated. But for some reason, running works and although I won't be going for a run for the next few days, I can't wait for my next marathon.
| Sunday was also Halloween - so quite a few runners dressed up. Now the question is whether the devil chose his costume before or after he was assigned his 666 bib number. |
Thank you again to everyone who donated to St. Jude's to help me run my marathon. My four hours of exertion yesterday definitely doesn't even compare to the months and years of treatment that St. Jude's patients have to endure. I also have to say there is no way I could have done this without my amazingly supportive husband. In addition to all my long runs where he rode his bike behind me, Joey woke up with me at 5:30 am yesterday, rode the Metro with me to the Pentagon, walked the mile to the start line with me and even waited in line with me for 20 minutes for the porta-potty. Then he trekked all across town to cheer me on at as many points along the course as he could. After the race he helped me waddle back home and even went to buy me some Epson salts for my bath.
| Nothing like waiting in line for a porta-potty before dawn |
So where's the next one? Probably in Africa! We had a few of Joey's classmates over for dinner Thursday and two of them had run marathons - one in Ghana and another in Istanbul - so its possible!
| Bib | FName | LName | Div | Age | Sex | ||||
| 10844 | MELISSA | SODA | FEMALES 25-29 | 26 | F |
| ChipTime | ClockTime | Overall | SexPl | DivPl | |
| 4:02:37 | 4:07:30 | 4981 | 1193 | 319 | 55.8% |
| Ctz | 5K | 10K | 15K | 20K | Half | 25K | 30K | 35K | 40K | Pace | |||||||||||||||||||||||
10.27.2010
Congratulations, Shannon and Ryan!
Shannon, you were a beautiful bride and I loved your dress! The wedding was intimate and gorgeous and Joey and I were really glad to have been able to be there. And Ryan, the blueberry cupcakes were awesome! We also really enjoyed our weekend in New Orleans. What a cool city - from the stunning architecture to all the different street performers, from the rich food and unique cocktails to the coolest cemeteries I have ever seen, New Orleans and all of her charming residents were a welcome change from the "Northern charm and Southern efficiency" (JFK) of DC!
| A "2nd Line" Procession |
| The preparation of "The Green Fairy" cocktail, made with Absinthe! |
| The taste of "The Green Fairy" cocktail |
| Seriously, does it get any cooler than this? |
| From a balcony on Bourbon St., about midnight. People were just getting warmed up. |
| MMM! Yummy beignets at Cafe du Monde tasted like funnel cake - perfect with chickory coffee! |
Our dinner was actually quite enjoyable. All of the people in Joey's A-100 class who got posted to Africa were in attendance, and most brought food from their country or the region. I have to admit - I liked everything I ate! Everybody shared their hopes and anxieties about their postings and it was really reassuring to know I'm not the only one who is apprehensive. I also heard an even worse could-be-worse tale that I thought I'd share because this one makes Niger sound tolerable.
Single woman, 24, sent to Central African Republic. Post size: 5. Other 4 Americans? Middle aged men. Living situation? Studio or 1 bedroom apartment, shared with another FSO. Computers: None. Not even in the embassy. Apparently they are always stolen so no computer, no internet for two years - in the middle of sub-Saharan Africa! Told to bring a gun. Also told not to go anywhere alone or she will be raped. Finally, told to bring all of her food for two years. That's right. Canned food. Canned meat, canned vegetables, canned fruit. Two years. Nigeria is starting to look pretty nice! (By the way, this woman is apparently in Joey's training and he says she is exceptionally positive about her move - she said everyone keeps asking her how she's doing and she says she is fine - no big deal - she is ready. I can tell you straight up right now - no flipping way. If that was Joey's post? Honey, I love you, have a great time in Africa. I'll see you in two years. She is a waaaay better person than I. That is probably why she is a diplomat and I am not.)
I thought I would start sharing some facts about Africa. Today I got a Sherman's Travel Bulletin with the Top 25 Travel Deals for the week. One of them was a Kenyan safari. So I looked to see how much a ticket from Abuja to Nairobi would cost. $1600!?! Why? Well, I looked at a map and Kenya is on the opposite side of Africa as Nigeria. Which is 2137 miles. Just to put that in perspective, the driving distance from San Francisco to Chicago is 2135 miles, and on American highways that would take you 31 hours and 18 minutes. And both Nigeria and Kenya are situated where the African continent starts to narrow out. Here's a great map I found to provide a frame of reference.
Labels:
foreign service life,
new orleans,
nigeria,
travel
10.19.2010
How Moe Lost his Tail
| A tired Moe and his little nub |
When we went to pick him up at the vet, the technician sat with us for about fifteen minutes to go over all of his medications and care for his wound. After explaining everything, she went back to go get him. Moe and his giant cone burst through the door, flailing everywhere and dragging the poor little technician behind him. While she was doubled over with both hands on the leash trying to hold onto him, he had already managed to lose his bandage. So after a quick greeting, the technician picked the bandage up off the floor and took Moe back for bandaging round two. When he came flailing through the door the second time, she was holding the cone - she suggested that maybe one of us sit in the back of the car with him to prevent him from licking his tail - and she told us to feel free to call in fifteen minutes when the bandage came off again.
| A very sleepy Moe snuggling his very sleepy Daddy snuggling his very adept, contortionist photographer wife on our very small couch |
| Banging his cone into the door |
| This morning, pouting. |
10.18.2010
Pics from lately
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| This was taken by our friend James the day after Flag Day. |
| We spent Columbus Day at Mount Vernon |
| The back of Mount Vernon - facing the Potomac - despite all the people it was exceptionally peaceful there. |
| ||||||
| At Coco Sala, a chocolate boutique and restaurant. My champagne flight is in the foreground - Joey's scotch flight is in the background. We went for their three-course "dessert experience." Talk about fat girl heaven. |
| Julia Child's kitchen at the Smithsonian American History Museum |
| At the National Building Museum - they were setting up for a benefit dinner. |
| Okay seriously, this is just not right - I can't decide who is more fearless - the squirrel for getting so close to a human or Joey for getting so close to a squirrel - ew! |
| Since we went to Mount Vernon last weekend I thought it only fair that we visited Monticello this weekend. I didn't realize that it was a 2 1/2 hour drive...oops. |
| A giant bumble bee at Monticello |
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| The view at Monticello - wow |
10.16.2010
Swearing In
| Taking the oath |
| The 156th A-100 class (and a few ambassadors in front) |
I thought I'd share a could-be-worse story. One of Joey's classmates, Jeff, was assigned to Libreville, Gabon, on Flag Day. I was envious; Libreville was our favorite African post since its not very dangerous and you live right on the beach. Since Libreville is French-speaking, Jeff, who doesn't speak French, anticipated arriving sometime next summer, once he had completed his French courses here. Thursday morning Jeff received an email from his CDO (career development officer), which said something like "Give me a call ASAP, hope you're flexible :) "
Jeff called his CDO, who said that it turned out the Libreville posting had actually already been filled and so they were going to need to send Jeff to Niger. Before Christmas. Double-whammy.
Niger, Nigeria's neighbor to the northwest, is 98% Muslim, which doesn't work out so well for Jeff, who is gay. When we talked to him yesterday after the swearing-in, he was still pretty shell shocked. He said that the post reports recommended buying a horse. His partner, Michael, also seemed exceptionally overwhelmed and told me he wasn't so sure if he was going to accompany Jeff or not. Whatever they choose, I wish them nothing but the best.
And now I am very, very, very happy we are got posted to Nigeria and not Gabon.
10.14.2010
Cut It Off
Its time. After two and a half years of Moe's bloody tail, we finally decided it is time to just cut it off. I think its fair to say we have literally tried everything. When Moe's tail first started bleeding two and a half years ago, we still lived in our townhouse. The vet called it "Happy Dog Syndrome" and told us to keep him in the center of the room. So after Moe used his tail to decorate the townhouse much like an ax murderer would (huge splatters and brushes of blood), we decided we needed to move. Immediately.
So we bought a house with a big yard and it helped. Initially. But, especially in the winter months, his tail would bleed intermittently and I'd resign myself to going around the house with Lysol wipes every week or so, wiping down walls, doors, woodwork - pretty much everything Moe's tail touched. Which was pretty much everything. We learned that if we left him out of the kennel, it helped quite a bit, so for about a year we didn't have too much incident with the tail. Then we had to put the house on the market, which meant no more kennel-free getaways for Moe. His tail began bleeding again and by the time we moved downtown, it had gotten really bad.
We took him to a different vet who used "laser therapy" to help heal his tail, but also advised us to keep him out of the kennel. Well that was no problem in our big, industrial loft which was not only impossible for him to destroy but the concrete acted as a nice sound barrier, so he could bark as much as he wanted. Not so much here, in our teeny tiny and decorated entirely in white rowhouse, of which we only occupy the first floor. So not only does the woodwork on the windowsill take a beating whenever someone walks by (um every three minutes), but the family below us and the guy above us hear about it too, courtesy of Moe. As such, he has to be kenneled when we're not home, so when we do get home, it results in the now time-honored ritual of me chasing after his tail with a Lysol wipe, trying to remove the blood from the white couch, white comforter, and white carpet before it stains. Despite all this, however, I was unwilling to consider amputation - I'm unemployed (blissfully) and its not like it really puts me out to clean the blood - except when it gets on my clothes and I have to take them off immediately to rinse with cold water and wash - but the hardest part about that is finding a new outfit - really, my life is rough - unwilling, until this past weekend.
Joey and I have tried bandaging his tail in the past. Usually it stays on for all of three minutes, sometimes it might last for an hour and one time we tried duct tape and it lasted for a day (the poor dog looked like he had an antenna). We decided that since duct tape had been successful in the past, we'd try it again. So Joey bought black duct tape (so rather than the tin man styling he looked more dominatrix - and when that tail hit you it felt more dominatrix too), and we wrapped that sucker so tight it was going nowhere. Moe was not a big fan of the duct tape and steadily worked to get it off - and had kind of worked through the tip - but a few days later it was still holding steady. Then the crying started. Before, whenever Moe hit his tail on anything, he seemed pretty oblivious. A few days into the duct tape and he started crying when his tail hit things - which is a lot. He has happy dog syndrome, remember? So we tried to get the duct tape off but Moe wouldn't let us near his tail. We kept trying to unravel it and he was having nothing of it, so being the mean parents we are, after two days of Moe crying and not letting us help, we decided to take him outside (which he believes to be super scary), and cut it off (the duct tape, not the tail). So on Saturday when we got it off and found a very raw, swollen, tip of his tail. Of course he keeps licking it and his tail is so long its not like we could put a cone on him because he could still reach it (we learned this with Tina and his hotspot), so Tuesday I called the vet.
We went this morning and the really nice vet and I talked a little about how his tail has been pretty chronic and how we're leaving soon for Nigeria and pretty much decided that its time. So Monday morning my poor baby goes under the knife - they're cutting off like 6 inches! We'll pick him up Monday night and she said he should be doing pretty well. She also said that he'll be okay by that Friday, when we leave for New Orleans,
so lets keep our fingers crossed for that! (I have a whole diatribe on trying to find a kennel in this town but I'll save that for later).
So we bought a house with a big yard and it helped. Initially. But, especially in the winter months, his tail would bleed intermittently and I'd resign myself to going around the house with Lysol wipes every week or so, wiping down walls, doors, woodwork - pretty much everything Moe's tail touched. Which was pretty much everything. We learned that if we left him out of the kennel, it helped quite a bit, so for about a year we didn't have too much incident with the tail. Then we had to put the house on the market, which meant no more kennel-free getaways for Moe. His tail began bleeding again and by the time we moved downtown, it had gotten really bad.
We took him to a different vet who used "laser therapy" to help heal his tail, but also advised us to keep him out of the kennel. Well that was no problem in our big, industrial loft which was not only impossible for him to destroy but the concrete acted as a nice sound barrier, so he could bark as much as he wanted. Not so much here, in our teeny tiny and decorated entirely in white rowhouse, of which we only occupy the first floor. So not only does the woodwork on the windowsill take a beating whenever someone walks by (um every three minutes), but the family below us and the guy above us hear about it too, courtesy of Moe. As such, he has to be kenneled when we're not home, so when we do get home, it results in the now time-honored ritual of me chasing after his tail with a Lysol wipe, trying to remove the blood from the white couch, white comforter, and white carpet before it stains. Despite all this, however, I was unwilling to consider amputation - I'm unemployed (blissfully) and its not like it really puts me out to clean the blood - except when it gets on my clothes and I have to take them off immediately to rinse with cold water and wash - but the hardest part about that is finding a new outfit - really, my life is rough - unwilling, until this past weekend.
Joey and I have tried bandaging his tail in the past. Usually it stays on for all of three minutes, sometimes it might last for an hour and one time we tried duct tape and it lasted for a day (the poor dog looked like he had an antenna). We decided that since duct tape had been successful in the past, we'd try it again. So Joey bought black duct tape (so rather than the tin man styling he looked more dominatrix - and when that tail hit you it felt more dominatrix too), and we wrapped that sucker so tight it was going nowhere. Moe was not a big fan of the duct tape and steadily worked to get it off - and had kind of worked through the tip - but a few days later it was still holding steady. Then the crying started. Before, whenever Moe hit his tail on anything, he seemed pretty oblivious. A few days into the duct tape and he started crying when his tail hit things - which is a lot. He has happy dog syndrome, remember? So we tried to get the duct tape off but Moe wouldn't let us near his tail. We kept trying to unravel it and he was having nothing of it, so being the mean parents we are, after two days of Moe crying and not letting us help, we decided to take him outside (which he believes to be super scary), and cut it off (the duct tape, not the tail). So on Saturday when we got it off and found a very raw, swollen, tip of his tail. Of course he keeps licking it and his tail is so long its not like we could put a cone on him because he could still reach it (we learned this with Tina and his hotspot), so Tuesday I called the vet.
We went this morning and the really nice vet and I talked a little about how his tail has been pretty chronic and how we're leaving soon for Nigeria and pretty much decided that its time. So Monday morning my poor baby goes under the knife - they're cutting off like 6 inches! We'll pick him up Monday night and she said he should be doing pretty well. She also said that he'll be okay by that Friday, when we leave for New Orleans,
so lets keep our fingers crossed for that! (I have a whole diatribe on trying to find a kennel in this town but I'll save that for later).
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