Being Social

I went out in public AND wore pants that buttoned up two days in a row over the weekend. I didn't get hives, but I did get a little burning sensation.  I went to a cosmetics party at Alix's (another FS spouse and mom of three adorable kiddos) on Friday and had a lovely time soaking my feet and sampling the products (both the cosmetic kind and the yummy food and booze kind). Any cream or lotion that promised even the remotest possibility of wrinkle reduction I slathered liberally around my eyes. Forty-something years of laughing have time marching right across my face and while I don't regret most of that laughter, I'm not one to turn away any help in the battle against Mother Nature. Everything smelled so good and made my skin feel so soft.  So, cream after cream I slapped on my laugh lines, right on top of each other. I figured by the time I got home I would be looking like the dewy fifteen year-old girl I was when my husband first laid eyes on me. In retrospect, I think I should have been a little more cautious, considering that I'm allergic to everything on the planet. Anyway, Mitch failed to notice that I had turned into a nubile fifteen year-old when I got home, possibly because I told him how much money I'd spent on my amazing transformation before he'd had a chance to fully appreciate my beauty.  I woke up in the middle of the night with the skin around my eyes on fire. It's still burning a little, two days later. Mother's Nature is working on her own laugh lines over this, to be sure. Bitch.

Yesterday we went to a Foreign Service blogger's potluck at the Foreign Service Ghetto, aka the Oakwood. We took our girls, and they were thrilled to be back.  My kids LOVED living at Oakwood. Lots of other kids, their own little store full of candy and ice cream, a pool, and a hot cocoa machine. What's not to love? I'll refrain from making a list for you. Carrying my dog out like a baby to do his business because he was terrified of the construction workers and all their machinery, the soul-sucking lighting in the kitchen,  and waking up at 4:45 am to get my kids to school were definitely great times at Oakwood, though. Ooh! See what I did? I made a list anyway. My misery at Oakwood was not Oakwood's fault (except the lighting-ick!), but the memories are forever intertwined. Anyhoodle, it was fun meeting other bloggers (every one of them nice, lovely, smart, witty, and attractive) and the girls had a blast playing with the other kids. Mitch even found a group of geeks to hang out with. Many thanks to the organizers. Unfortunately, the hot cocoa machine was out of order, but they did have heaping plates of tasty blogger-made treats to ease their pain.

I had a few people ask me for my potluck recipe. This is the perfect potluck dish, because it's easy, doesn't require refrigeration or heating, and feeds a crowd. It's my sister Kim's dish, but I've had to learn it since my teenager loves it and since I've been ripped from the bosom of my family to follow my husband who is working for the Man who may shut down the government and reduce his pay which was already cut when he took said job. But that's a really long title for a recipe, so let's just call it:

Kate's Sister Kim's Spicy Noodles

1 lb Vermicelli  *
1/4 C plus 1Tbs. toasted sesame seeds
 3 Tbs  Sesame oil
 1Tbs chili oil
 1/3 C vegetable oil
 1/3 C Sugar
 3/4 C Soy Sauce
 2 tsp red pepper  **
 1 tsp red pepper flakes
 1 Bunch green onions

Cook the pasta according to directions. Toast the sesame seeds unless you're lazy like me and buy pre-toasted ones. Mix the rest of the ingredients through the red pepper flakes and then toss with pasta.  Finely chop the green onions and mix most in with the noodles, leaving some to sprinkle on top along with the extra Tbs. of sesame seeds. I usually make it the day before and refrigerate so the noodles can really soak up the sauce, and then sprinkle the final onions and sesame seed just before serving.

* I like to use whole wheat spaghetti, but I've also used soba, angel hair pasta, and regular spaghetti with good results.

**adjust to your personal heat preferences. I like to feel my lips burning for at least a few hours after I eat it, so I generally add more heat. Note that if you make it the day before, the heat intensifies.

Under no circumstances take out your contacts when you are finished making this recipe, even if you've washed your hands. Ask me how I know this!

List

We got our post list last week.  In the Foreign Service, when you first get started, your first two posts are directed by state, after which, most people bid on where they want to go.  This won't be the case with us, because we can only go where there are embassy projects being built, although we will get to have a say in which of those projects we want (I hope?).  Anyway, the list is really, really good.  We spent the weekend researching the posts on the list.  When I first saw the list, I put down my top five right off the bat.  However, after spending the weekend in my new bed AND wearing yoga pants (yes, I did a couple of downward dogs to earn the right) while I researched the posts on my laptop, my list completely changed.  I can't tell you what countries were on the list, but we did go to an Irish pub and then out for Moroccan food for date night on Saturday.  Our top criteria were safety and schools, and that knocked a few posts off the list, but for the most part I'd be happy with any of the posts.  I was surprised at how one of the posts I didn't even consider when I first saw it made it up to number two after I researched the hell out of it.  I think we'll know in the next month or so. 

In other news, Olivia, while munching on her nitrate-free salami, declared "I HATE the idea of hurting animals.  But they sure taste delicious."

Onward and Eastward

Last year before Christmas, Mitch mentioned in passing that he applied for a job with the Foreign Service, telling me how arduous and complicated it was to get in, and how long the process was, blah blah blah.  I didn't give it much thought, because I had Important Stuff going on, and besides, I'm a delicate flower and doesn't he know I don't really take well to foreign travel?  Plus, the kids all barf at the drop of a hat or curve of the road.  Not to mention my crippling germophobia. And so I put it out of my mind.

Springtime rolled around, and Mitch had begun the long commute from Whidbey Island down to Seattle, where his new project was.  The commute is a killer, so we decided to put the house on the market and move back to the city.  A Fed-Ex package arrived.  The State Department was inviting him to Washington DC to take the Oral Assessment for that little job he applied for.  He and Jack go spend the week and have a marvelous time.   He passed the OA, so we all got to be poked and prodded and, um, other stuff.  I'd tell you what other stuff, but I'd have to kill myself you.  This is so we can get Medical Clearance for world wide travel.  Grace fainted during her blood draw, so that was an enjoyable memory for me as well as her siblings, who were all with her and were pretty certain she was dead.  We all passed, and although it was shaky for a while there, I even passed the mental health part.  Yay me!

The house sells.  We were lucky to rent a new house month to month right by Mitch's school project in Kirkland.  A big, soulless, ugly rental that we call "the hotel" because of it's beigeness (totally a word). There was a security clearance, which was very involved, so say our neighbors from the 90's and my second grade teacher's sister.   Aaaaaaaand, he got the job.  Officially for real.  Put in his notice at work.  Training starts on September 13 in Washington DC.  

So, we're filling the car with Clorox wipes, barf bags, and hand sanitizer and heading out the first week of September so we can be sure to see the Corn Palace and the World's Biggest Ball of Twine or whatever on the way.   Everyone has been asking me if we know where we'll be sent (and which parasite will be my ultimate downfall).  All we know at this point is that we'll be in DC for a while for a long bit, probably a few years. The kids are really excited, and since everyone knows it's the mom who sets the tone, I am excited too.  I will be especially excited when the boots that I ordered as a reward for myself arrive.