A Farewell Letter to my (First) Hometown

Faggot.  Homo.  Queer.  Cocksucker.  These are but a few of the names you called me during my formative years, back before even I knew for sure that I was gay.  Hateful words; words that caused me to live in constant fear.  Not fear of physical assault.  No, I was big; I probably could have taken most of you in a fair fight, had I been forced to.

But fear all the same.

Fear that you were right.  Rogers, Texas is a small town, and the surrounding towns and cities aren't much bigger. I didn't know any gay people.  I already felt, already feared, that I was different.  I feared being alone.  And then, on top of that, you made me fear being exposed before I was ready to admit it to myself, before I was ready to confess it to my family. 

At first, college wasn’t much better.  I still wasn’t prepared to be honest with myself.  Your hateful adolescent vitriol had done its job, and done it well. 

It wasn't until I accepted an internship in Orlando and escaped the boundaries of small town, conservative Texas that I was able to spread my wings and finally accept myself for who I was, who I always had been, who I am today.  I opened the closet doors and refused to ever close them again.  Orlando taught me to be proud of myself.  It taught me that I could be myself and still be happy.  I could love, and be loved in return.  Orlando became home.  It has been ever since, and always will be.

Before making the final transition from Texas to Florida, I confessed my newly accepted sexuality to the handful of you that I felt close to, and each of you responded politely enough. 

Well, that’s not true.  One of you ran home and immediately told your mother, who suddenly became very interested in my own mother and conversations about me and my wellbeing, despite my having begged you not to tell anyone because my parents hadn’t yet been told.  That’s okay, though.  I lied to you; I had already told my parents.  They were ready when your mother came knocking, as your family always did, with Jesus on her lips but the devil in her heart.  Much to her frustration, my parents deftly avoided her questions, forever denying her the satisfaction that such a conversation would surely have provided.

Still, that was certainly a more honest response than I received from the others with whom I had shared my coming out story.  Despite being my closest confidantes in high school, you quickly fell into the category of the majority of our peers who simply found out after the advent of social media.  After the obligatory “It’s okay, we’ve always known, we love you anyway” spiel, you all promptly lost interest in anything pertaining to my personal life.  I have tried to faithfully perform the perfunctory social media responsibilities over years: wishing you a happy birthday, telling you that your children are cute, wishing you an enjoyable vacation, sending well wishes when a family member is ill.  In response, I get nothing from you.  I suspect that many of you unfollowed me after I posted one too many pro-LGBT memes, as one former friend has already confessed.      

That’s fine.  Believe me, I get it.  I’ve unfollowed and unfriended many of you as well.  We just do not see eye to eye on many things.  Or anything.  For the longest time, I’ve tried to convince myself that this is okay, that people don’t always have to see eye to eye to be friends, or at the very least respectful to one another. 

But not anymore.  Not after this weekend.    

Between the hours of 2am and 5am on Sunday, June 12, 2016, the most horrific mass shooting in American history occurred at Pulse, an LGBTQ nightclub in Orlando, Florida.  By the time the standoff ended, a series of events had transpired that would leave 50 dead and at least 53 injured. 

People are still debating whether it was a hate crime or an act of domestic terrorism.  I am here to tell you that it was both.  Omar Mateen may have pledged his allegiance to ISIS during a 911 call from inside the club, but it was a gay club, and it could not possibly have been chosen at random because there are no other clubs in the immediate vicinity.  Had he wanted a random club, he would have gone elsewhere.  No, he wanted to target the LGBTQ community and its allies.  And he chose this club to do it.  A nightclub that is a mere five minute drive from my home.  While work pulled me away from Orlando some six years ago, I still cherish that city  and return there at every opportunity.  I have memories from time spent at this club and, more importantly, still have friends that frequent the establishment. 

And since the country awoke Sunday morning to this horrible news, there has been a noticeable yet admittedly consistent lack of concern for my life, as you neglect to ask how I am taking the news.  Precious few of you have asked if I am feeling okay, or otherwise checked in to see how I am processing this information.  Let me alleviate your concerns right now.  I’m not processing it very well at all, but I am incredibly grateful in that, thus far, it does not appear that any of my friends were killed or injured.  Thank you SO much for asking. 

(To be fair, a select few of you did provide standard Facebook contact to include a “Like” or a comment. A rare one or two others communicate with me regularly outside of this issue.  You know who you are, I love you, and this does not apply to you.)

Even so, I can forgive this.  As they say, out of sight, out of mind.  Other than the emotional scarring, I wasn’t even “directly affected,” right? (Wrong, but I digress.)

What I cannot forgive is the hate that some of you have been pouring out online.  Meme after meme defending your Second Amendment rights (not once has anyone ever threated to take away your guns), or gloating that the killer was a Democrat (political affiliation has never been a speaking point for you before in times of terrorist activity), or denying that it was a hate crime, (because, in your eyes, it can ONLY be a terrorist attack if it was perpetrated by a Muslim), or applauding Donald Trump for his anti-Muslim diatribe (or anything he ever says, frankly).  And even that, as disgusting as it is, could be overlooked.  Except for one small thing.

None of you posting these memes have stopped for one moment to post a message of condolence for those impacted.  Not one of you has offered a prayer (and oh, boy, do you love to offer calls for prayer instead of calls for gun reform in times of trouble) to those that are suffering.  Why?  I’ll tell you why.  Because, this time, the victims were gay. 

And I can’t take it anymore.  I simply cannot.   

I can accept you ignoring me.  I can accept you ignoring the issue entirely.  I can accept that in your personal life you do not at all care about the LGBTQ community or even the one member of it that you spent up to 13 years of your life studying and playing with. 

What I cannot accept is that you are so filled with hatred and toxicity that instead of ignoring the situation with what little grace and dignity nature gave you, you must instead use the moment to push some misguided agenda that the liberals are trying to take your guns.  I can assure you that, today, nobody is paying you any attention.  Nobody cares about you.  I certainly don’t.

I’m done. 

I refuse to feel a tinge of guilt whenever I visit my parents and cloister myself at home simply because a part of me remembers that old high school fear.  I will no longer feel that I should give you a second chance, that perhaps you are better adults than you were children.

Because you are not.

At least children can claim the ignorance of youth as an excuse.

You are just ignorant, mean-spirited adults.  And there is no place for you in the future.   

Or in my life.

The Wonderful World of Disney (and Universal, Too!)

If we've learned anything since joining the Foreign Service, it's that the best laid plans of mice and men often go awry.

Case in point:  Our original plan had been to enjoy a nice, relaxing home leave on the West Coast following our two year assignment in Mexico.  We planned it out and it looked like we could spend a month in California, Washington, Vegas, etc. before heading to Virginia for TJ's Arabic training.  The State Department didn't agree, and all of the training came first.  That was fine, no biggie.  The only hiccup was that, were home leave to begin prior to training, we could control where the flight out of Mexico took us (i.e. West Coast), whereas having home leave after training meant we were already situated in Virginia (i.e. East Coast).  We weren't too keen on driving all the way out west, so a new plan was formulated.

...And, there we were.  At last.  A long ten months and eight days after leaving Mexico, we finally arrived in Orlando.  Home.  

What follows is basically an episode of any sitcom that ran during ABC's TGIF Friday night programming following the Disney/ABC merger in the mid-90s.  You know the drill:  The Tanner family (or the Foster-Lambert family, or the Winslow family, etc.) goes to Disney World and spends 22 minutes (plus commercials!) getting themselves stuck in a series of hilarious yet troublesome situations that will be resolved the following week (these were typically two-parters) while they float seamlessly between parks as if they are all the same place.  

This probably won't be as entertaining as all that, but we did float seamlessly between parks for the duration of our nineteen day trip.  

We arrived on August 30th and, after a quick unpack and rest at the hotel, headed to Downtown Disney where we met up with our old roommate Kris.  We walked the full length of this outdoor shopping, dining, and entertainment complex during our chat.  We window shopped.  We stopped for a drink.  I took a picture with this awesome Lego Hulk.  It was nice catching up with Kris, but on the whole the experience was a tad depressing.  Pleasure Island, the section of Downtown Disney that had been devoted to nightclubs and booty shaking, had closed on September 27, 2008.  The Virgin Megastore, where TJ and I met for the first time, closed in spring 2009.  The McDonald's where we shared our first meal later that day because-it's-not-a-date-so-why-be-fancy closed on April 30, 2010, shortly after our original departure to join the Foreign Service.  Now, construction barriers are set up all over the complex, paving the way for something called "Disney Springs" that is scheduled to open in 2016.  I'll try to reserve judgement, but right now I'm just bitter that so many of the locations surrounding the beginnings of our relationship have faded away. 

The following day was spent at EPCOT, TJ's favorite of the four theme parks that fall under the Walt Disney World umbrella.  After all but conquering Future World, we set our sites on the World Showcase.  First stop was "Mexico," where we enjoyed Margaritas and nachos, listened to a mariachi band, and replaced Panchito Pistoles and José Carioca as members of The Three Caballeros.  Disney photography policy prevents the taking of pictures with their characters while in the presence of alcohol but make no mistake ladies and gentlemen, those margaritas are sitting just to the side of the far right bottom corner.  We spent the remainder of the day leisurely strolling the World Showcase and sampling foods and beverages as we took in the attractions.    

That was followed by a day at Animal Kingdom, which I have always

suspected of being situated directly above hell, due to its ever-uncomfortable, always higher than average temperatures.  Our friend Tommy joined us for a day spent traveling through time to the day of the Dinosaur, learning that it's Tough to be a Bug, embarking on a East African safari and learning all about the "Bear Necessities."  If you don't get all of those references, it's because either you don't know enough about Disney, or I know too much.  And since this is my blog, we'll throw the blame in your direction.  We would see Tommy one more time during this trip, and that would be following Tuesday evening for night of dancing and PBR at downtown Orlando's hipster club, I-Bar.  The crowds were young when we left Orlando, and even more so now.  We, unfortunateley, had aged another three years.   It took a while to get into the groove, but once we did it was fun.  If nothing else, we ended our evening better off than the guy who was sitting outside in a puddle of his own...something...when we left.  Though, looking back, maybe he did have more fun than us.  

That evening saw us arriving at Disney's HollywoodStudios for a night of turkey legs and scary fireworks (Really, Disney?  What were you thinking with this whole Fantasmic thing?) with my old friend and colleague Shalinn.  TJ was excited to ride the newly renovated Star Wars attraction (Star Tours - The Adventure Continues) for the first time, which I had managed to do during my 2011 trip to San Diego.  We had planned to meet up with Shalinn, a champion eater who manages to stay super skinny just to spite me, for an evening at a local food truck fair later in our trip, but we were sadly rained out.  Next time, pookie!

The next day was spent at my favorite park The Magic Kingdom.  We immediately headed over to The New Fantasyland to explore a park renovation we had been dying to check out for months now.  Among the pleasant new features was Gaston's Tavern, where I was able to partake in something called Lefou's Brew, a frozen apple juice concoction with a hint of marshmallow, topped with a passion fruit-mango foam.  It was delicious.  This was not to be our final day at The Magic Kingdom...nor was it to be our final Lefou's Brew.

My parents drove down from Texas for a brief visit September 3-5.  In what has become something of a tradition since they started visiting us in Orlando all those years ago, we made sure that they got to experience one of the local dinner shows.  This time around it was Disney's Spirit of Aloha at the Polynesian Resort.  The family-style buffet features hula dancing and a fire-knife performance.  On the second night we went to Kobe Japanese Steakhouse for a teppanyaki-style dining experience TJ and I introduced them to on their last visit, and that they seem bent on turning into a second dining tradition.  Sounds good to me!  Not much in the way of activity to report beyond that.  They weren't keen on visiting the parks ("There's more to life than Disney," I believe mom said....I know, right?  She's totally crazy.), so we did the family thing where you sit and talk and reminisce and sometimes go shopping at Target.  Important things to do, as I'm not quite sure if/when we will be returning to the states, other than the end of our tour in Jerusalem. 

While we were at the luau, our car got to hang out with Herbie!

That Saturday I got to meet TJ's sister, brother-in-law, nieces and nephew for the first time.  They had recently moved to Tampa and, thanks to Kris's awesomeness (and employment benefits), we were able to treat them to a day at Universal Studios and Islands of Adventure.  The kids all had a great time, with TJ's nephew happily proclaiming "This is the best vacation ever!"  Indeed, kid.  Please note in the attached photo, the sleeping baby in the fore with all of the "must-be-this-tall-to-ride" graduates happily queued up and ready to go in the background.  We all had a fun-filled day meeting Spider-Man, exploring Hogwarts and going on an adventure with the Autobots.  It was my first time truly doing the theme park experience with kids in tow, and I must say I enjoyed it.  Hopefully I'll be able to do it with a tot or two of my own one day.  

The rest of the trip was filled with more of the same.  Further exploring the parks on our own and hanging out with friends when we had the chance.

We met up with Nisrine, another old friend and colleague, for a quick chat at a local wine bar.  It was brief, but so good to see her.

We befriended a British tourist named Anwarul and went miniature golfing.  

We spent a day with Chloe.

We spent time away from Disney with Kris and his new boo, John.  Brunches, dinners, Insidious Double Features and martinis, oh my!  Oh, and I did make them return to Universal one more time.  Rain and time hadn't permitted proper exploration of the new Springfield environment.  Mission:  Accomplished.  Little known fact:  This is one of maybe four photos of Kris in existence.  I own all of them.  He's the pouty one on the right that doesn't appear to want to have the camera pointed at him.    

We had appetizers and drinks with our friend Gavin, during which time a frumpy hag of a waitress named Agatha denied me drink service after declaring that I had a mole on my neck in my driver's license photo that was not currently present on my person.  It was one of those miracle moles that you could scratch off with your fingernail, but she was having none of it.  She made me question basically everything about my life.  Diet, exercise, skin care routine.   Even with a "mole," do I look that drastically different than the person in my 2003 driver's license photo?  Who knows. But now that we are settled in and my new place of employment has a gym, I'll be hitting it hard going forward.  So that's turned a negative into a positive.  

We also took some time to visit the gorgeous little craftsman home that we purchased when the Foreign Service was but a future possibility.  The tenants are taking care of the place and have turned it into an adorable little bachelorette pad.  Should we hold on to it, it shall be a wonderful place to retire. 

Amazing that home leave ended just two and a half weeks ago.  It already feels like a lifetime.  And the two and a half weeks of home leave itself?  Felt like a day and a half.  Time flies when you're having fun, and you rarely get to do everything, or see everyone, that you'd like to.     

I don't really know how to wrap this up, because doing so is just further confirmation that our all-too short time at home is already over.  But I know we'll be back someday.  And so...

M-I-C...See ya real soon!

Etc.

Dog Days of Summer

Sometimes...not often, but sometimes, I really, really hate the Foreign Service.  Those of you on the outside looking in may see us as a bunch of highly paid pencil pushers that get to live in fancy mansions in faraway lands...in between exotic vacations to Italy and Fiji, of course.

Well, you'd be wrong.  We are actually a bunch of modestly paid pencil pushers that get to live in average-for-Middle-Class-Americans housing that just happens to be in faraway lands...in between giving up any and everything that we hold dear.  

We say goodbye to our family and friends.  To favorite restaurants and nightspots.  To old careers that we may or may not have loved.  To houses that we bought barely two years prior and thought we would grow old together in but instead will probably not set foot in for another 20-30 years...if we don't just get bored and sell them off first, of course.

And then, just when you've been at post for a couple of years...just when you've established new friends, new work connections, new local hangouts....you uproot your family and start from scratch all over again.

And sometimes...sometimes this job causes you to lose your best friend.  Your compadre.  Your pretty little girl.  That precious, dopey, flopsy mopsy golden retriever that you bought for you husband in 2007 as a present for his college graduation....but that everyone secretly knew you really bought for yourself. 

We knew almost from the beginning of our relationship that TJ had wanted to pursue a career in the US Foreign Service.  It was his dream job, but given the highly competitive nature of the State Department, we put that dream up on the "Wouldn't that be swell?" shelf in the closet.  By the time February 2010 rolled around and we realized we'd need to pull the dream down and dust it off, we had accumulated two dogs, a cat, and a 30-year mortgage.  

The house?  No biggie. Slap some paint on the walls, replace the carpet, find a property manager and rent that sucker out.  

The pets?  Also no biggie.  Throw them in the car and road trip it on up the highway until you reach Virginia.  

Then came the first pet exporting disaster.  After weeks of bureaucratic delays (both Mexican and American) resulted in several thousand dollars beyond our projected shipping expenses being tossed to the wind, the animals all arrived safely, if not a little rattled, in Guadalajara. 

Two years later, we tactfully circumvented this issue on our return trip by hiring a driver to escort them to the Texas border, from which we were able to safely and leisurely drive back to Virginia and prepare to start the whole process again. 

Almost immediately upon returning to the US, we began to crunch the numbers and realized that, bare minimum, it would cost approximately $3,500 to purchase air fare and get all the critters "up to code" per Israeli import regulations.  That's a hefty chunk of change, though certainly doable.  But...what happens when TJ receives his next posting, and it doesn't require a lengthy stay in DC?  We'd have to fly the pets back to the US for one month of mandatory home leave, and then fly them to our onward assignment.  $3,500 to get them all to Israel suddenly turned into a hypothetical $10,500 round trip experience.  Doable.  But logical?  Feasible?  Maybe not.  

Then we took a long, hard look at each of our pets.  They are all getting older.

Sophie is an 11 year old gray cat with an average life expectancy of 13-15 years.
Zelda is a nine and a half year old beagle/jack russell mix with an average life expectancy of 12-15 or 13-16 years, depending on which breed she favors.
Chloe is a six year old golden retriever with an average life expectancy of 10-12 years.

Other than a bad case of kennel cough-turned-pneumonia in Zelda's infancy, all three pets have lived perfectly healthy lives.  Assuming that continues, Sophie and Zelda are on trajectory to clock out of this mortal realm in the next few years, with Chloe following a short while later.

But stress can effect an animal's health, and all three of them arrived in Mexico looking much worse for wear.  We were hesitant to put any of them through that again.

Then we were assigned to our housing unit in Jerusalem.  It looked...shall we say...much more cozy than our accommodations in Mexico.  It also lacked a yard.   Zelda is a cuddler, but Chloe is a wild beast that loves to run.  We were concerned about a lack of space to keep her entertained.

We had already been considering the possibility of needing to find alternative homes for our furry friends as far back as February 2011.  I just didn't think it would actually happen so soon.

It was important to us that, should any of our pets leave our home, we would continue having access to them.  We began putting feelers out there to see if anyone would want to foster any of them.  Our logic was, if we could find someone we know to take them, we would do that.  If not, we would weather all health and financial risks and bring them along.

Poor Sophie.  Nobody wanted her.  She has apparently developed quite the reputation among our friends over the past decade as an evil demon from Hades.  She's actually quite sweet.  She just likes to hiss at people she doesn't know, and glare at those she does.  Plus, she isn't declawed, so that's a deal breaker for a lot of folks.  One person did offer to take her, but it would have been as an outdoor cat and we know she doesn't have the chutzpah for that.  Due to lack of viable interest by anyone but ourselves, Sophie was coming along.

Zelda would have been welcomed by our old roommate, Kris, and with open arms.  He loves her and we've always suspected that she likes him more than us, anyway.  Timing being what it is, though, he's found himself in a relationship

with someone who has pet allergies.  I suggested they break up, but apparently they're happy.  Oh well.  Another friend committed to taking her, only to back out saying his landlord didn't approve.  I've since seen pictures indicating that he's adopted two puppies, so he's currently on my poop list.  Had he said no at the onset, that would have been fine.  Sadly, he let us down so close to departure time that we had to decide whether it was worth the risk to wait for another bite or to start the lengthy and expensive process of getting vaccinations and genetic testing just in case we had to take her...at which point why not just bring her along?  And so, Zelda joined Sophie as a two-time world traveler.

Then there was Chloe.  She's so beautiful and sweet, who would NOT want her?  The day our friend had falsely committed to taking Zelda, I sent out a Facebook blast asking about Chloe.  Offers immediately poured in.  I decided on Pam, a sweet woman I have known for about eight years from a previous job.  She lives with her granddaughter who is just about to start college.  They have several dogs and a cat already and had previously shared space with a golden retriever, so they knew all about the breed's behavioral patterns (or lack thereof).  Pam graciously offered to foster Chloe while we are overseas and says she will return her upon the completion of this tour.  Pretty sweet deal, huh?  Of course, it was right around this time that our other friend reneged on his offer to take Zelda and I felt like a monster.  You're not supposed to have favorites, but I do.  And Chloe is mine.  I felt like I was abandoning her.

I used what little time I had left with her to the best of my ability.  I know that it is a human flaw to impose human characteristics upon animals, but I wanted Chloe to know that I love her.  Realistically, I'm sure I just needed to make myself recognize that I loved her.  Either way, I took her for extra long walks, bought her more toys than usual, forced everyone to sit for a family portrait and generally just made a point of being more attentive.

The result of which was that I had somehow managed to cry myself out by the time we made a whirlwind weekend trip down to Orlando and handed Chloe over to Pam and her granddaughter, Bailey, on August 3rd.  We knew our car was going to be stuffed when we made our final departure from Virginia at the end of that month, and we wanted to give them all time to adjust to each other before we headed off to the other side of the world and found ourselves unable to make adjustments if needed, so handing her off early seemed like a smart idea.  Pam did a great job of reassuring us that Chloe was in good hands.  They have a huge yard, a doggy door (always wanted one of those!) and toys galore.  I knew our baby would be in good hands.   As we got in the car to leave, Chloe watched curiously from the screen door.  She didn't look sad, nor happy.  It was just sort of a "Those are my daddies.  They are there and I am here," curious kind of look.  Weeks of emotion had left me dry.  I calmly turned to see TJ, who had been bottling it up for weeks so as not to exacerbate my feelings, finally, briefly, lose it.  The drive back to DC was sad, yet oddly happy.  We knew that Chloe would be well cared for.  And that's the important thing, right?

We had the opportunity to spend some time with her during home leave.  I picked her up from Pam's house on the morning of September 10th and she was so excited to see me that she almost knocked me down running out the front door (Chloe, not Pam).  I had claw marks all over me for days from her trying to crawl into my arms!  We didn't do too much that day.  Just lounged around in a big dog pile watching trashy television (Maury) at the hotel, for the most part.  We did want to spend some alone time with her so, leaving Sophie and Zelda in the room, we loaded Chloe in the car and

headed to Celebration, FL.  TJ lived there when we first started dating and we had been been wanting to stop by to reminisce.  We walked to one of our favorite eateries, The Market Street Cafe, and took a seat outside.  We ordered our favorite dishes and a bowl of water was brought for Chloe.  We had never taken her out to eat like this before, and she behaved like an angel.  We were so proud of her!  After lunch we walked around the lake and the downtown area before heading back to the hotel for some more trash television.

Pam wasn't home when we dropped Chloe off, but Bailey was.  Chloe ran to her just as eagerly as she had run to me that morning.

I know she's in good, loving, capable hands.  I just hope those hands are still willing to release her when two years have passed. 

I'm A Tourist In My Own City

When the Carnival Miracle docked in Ft. Lauderdale on November 10th, we scurried over to the airport, rented a Jeep Grand Cherokee, and zoomed down the highway for three days of fun and excitement in sunny Orlando, Florida. Or as we like to call it: Home, Sweet Home.

Only it isn't, really. Not anymore.

Instead of heading back to our adorable house near downtown where we could unpack, wash laundry, and relax after eight days of adventure on the open seas, we were heading to a hotel on Disney property. We never even drove by our house.

Instead of spending a lazy Sunday making a Target run or gorging ourselves at Pei Wei with our roommate Kris, we were inviting our friend Kris to join us for a couple of days of fun at Disney and Universal.

Instead of inviting our friends Ryan and Mike to dinner at Disney's Hoop-de-Doo Musical Revue, we....okay, well, we did do that. But the music has changed somewhat. And we have no idea when that happened.

And as for our other friends? The people we spent the last eight or so years getting to know? We didn't see any of them. Some have moved to other cities. A few were on vacations of their own. Others were busy. And some we've just simply lost contact with.

This was TJ's first trip back to Orlando since our whirlwind life in the Foreign Service began in February 2010. But not mine. I had returned once before, in June 2010, to do some work on our house and prepare it for renters. At the time, I blogged about how difficult the transition had been for me, how I was having trouble reconciling our happy life in Orlando with our new life in (at the time) D.C.

And now? I can't imagine life any other way.

Sure, I miss Orlando and the life we built there. We both do. But it was also ridiculously fun to go back and experience all the new things we missed out on while away. I got to watch as TJ enjoyed the new Harry Potter attractions at Universal's Islands of Adventure for the first time (something I got to do on my last visit). We got to experience the EPCOT International Food and Wine Festival with renewed fervor after a one year absence (happy to report that the tacos were surprisingly authentic). I got to stay in a Disney hotel (okay, so the Dolphin isn't a Disney hotel, but it's on property, so I say it counts) for the first time ever.

We celebrated our one year anniversary in Mexico on November 8th. We were Florida-bound, somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean, floating alongside the Dominican Republic, at the time.

As much fun as the vacation was, on that particular day I found myself wishing we could have celebrated the occasion in Puerto Vallarta, or Manzanillo. Somewhere...Mexican. [NOTE: Tomorrow I will be celebrating my one year anniversary of working at the Consulate...at the Consulate. I also wish this could be celebrated in Puerto Vallarta or Manzanillo.]

Because Mexico is Home, Sweet Home now.

Only it isn't, really. Or at least not for long.

The hardest part about this life of ours is that as soon as you get comfortable with your surroundings, it's time to get yourself some new surroundings. Of course, that's also the most exciting part about this life of ours.

We will be receiving our bid list soon. As hard as it is to believe, we have less than a year left in Guadalajara. Where we go after that is anyone's guess.

Who knows? Who cares?

I love life in the Foreign Service. Getting to live in a new countries. Making friends around the world. Learning about new cultures and languages. Trying new foods. Taking day trips to places you never even knew existed.

It's all super exciting.

And once you're able to let go of the old concept of home, the sky's the limit.

Just like old times. Me looking one way,

TJ looking another, and Kris hanging on for dear life.

365 Challenge, Day 86: My Life In Pictures

This morning I spent several hours combing through the files in an old computer of ours that I had brought back from Florida in July. Although I accidentally deleted all of our photos from our 2007 trip to Spain (and who knows what else), I was surprised at just how many photos we do have. Photos that show what a blessed life TJ and I have had together. A life that I could hardly imagine ever having while growing up in Texas. Come, walk with me down memory lane...

...as we meet in 2003 and spend

way too much time at Disney World...

...as we enjoy a Christmas

playing dress up with Sophie...

...as we adopt our first

puppy, Zelda...

...as we take our first trip to Paris

(and Disneyland Paris)...

...as we meet actor/comedian

Hal Sparks at the Hard Rock Live...

...as we adopt our second

puppy, Chloe...

...as we celebrate

TJ's graduation...

...as we buy our 1st home...

...as we go back to Paris

(and Disneyland Paris)...

...as we move to DC, and I

see my first heavy snowfall...

...as we watch as our babies grow up...

It's been a good life, and things will only continue to get better. There are a couple of things in the pipeline that we are very excited about.

I think now is a good time to let everyone know that the 365 Challenge is officially over. Not "over" like it was on Day 50, but really, really over. There was actually a soft closing of it on October 1st, when I decided to no longer number the individual days.

I was going to ride it out until we left for Guadalajara, but after finding some of the above photos today, it just seemed like this would be a good day to go out on.

Not every day has a story worth telling. Other days have stories that might be worth telling, but are inappropriate given that we represent the US Government abroad. Those are the days that frustrate me the most: when I have something fun or personal to share but instead resort to "stock footage." And if we're being honest, knowing that I "have" to post every day sorta makes me resent the process.

I will continue to write and post photos, but only when it feels right. Only when I have something to say or share. No more photos scavenged from the Internet. The words and stories will all be mine alone, or they won't be posted.

Which brings me to my next bit of news. "Adventures By Aaron" will be shutting down in a few weeks, to be replaced by a new blog...one that I think will better capture the essence of our lives abroad. I will continue posting here until then, and will of course leave a "forwarding address" when the time comes.

This has been a fun project for me, and definitely one of the things that have kept me sane while adjusting to our new Foreign Service Life.

Thanks to all of my readers, posters and lurkers alike. I hope you'll stick around for what's coming up next!

365 Challenge, Day 5: Metros and Monorails

Ok, so I will be the first to admit that today's photo isn't the most exciting. But that doesn't matter, because I was excited when I took it.

I played my first match as a member of the Capital Splats racquetball league this afternoon. More on them at a later date.

Suffice it to say, living in Falls Church, I needed to either drive into the city or take the Metro. Today, I opted for the Metro.

When the train pulled up to the East Falls Church Metro Station, the first car looked vacant. I've never ridden in the first car, and I don't particularly like being around all those people on public transit, so to the first car I went. Other than that guy in the garish neon yellow you see before you, the car was empty.

It was kind of weird being in the first car. It was like riding with the Monorail captain at Disney World. Except less awkward; because there's still a wall between us, I wasn't expected to make idle chitchat.

Comparing the Monorail to the Metro made me think about how far I've come in life, and how far I am about to go.

Growing up, my parents hated the thought of travel. They would make halfhearted promises to take me to Disneyland or Disney World, but I always knew it wouldn't happen. They were homebodies that never understood my sense of adventure. In the first 19 years of my life, my only exposure to the world outside of Texas was one trip to Las Vegas and another to Springfield, MO. Both trips had more to do with my father's car show hobby than they did with the concept of a family vacation. That's not to say we didn't travel. We did. We just did so within the confines of Texas.

During college i managed to sneak away to New Orleans a couple of times (trips that, to this day, my parents do NOT know about), cross the border for a lunch in Mexico, and spend Thanksgiving with a friend in Boston. Thanks to a study abroad course I participated in during college, I somehow managed to visit five European countries before finally fulfilling my childhood dream of going to Disney World, and that was only because I accepted an internship there. This was ridiculous to me. I thought everyone went to Disney World as a child. It's like a right of passage.

Of course I know better now. Since college, I guess you could say I've been somewhat well travelled. I've travelled more than some, less than others. Now that my family has joined the Foreign Service, I know that I will be living in, and visiting, places that most of my friends and loved ones will never see (Though they are ALWAYS welcome to visit!!!).

After college, when I made the decision to move to Orlando, a few friends commented on how brave they thought I was. They could not imagine leaving everything and everyone behind to go on such an adventure. But I could. It was exciting. I figured I would just stay in Orlando until it felt like it was time to leave. Seven years later, and I guess I could finally see where those astonished friends of mine were coming from. It is scary to leave home. Some people are able to do it, others aren't. I know those friends of mine are still living right where they were back then. There is absolutely nothing wrong with that. I do hope that they travel, though. And if they don't, then I hope it only because they don't want to.

I'm not keeping score or anything, but I don't think I will ever be fully satisfied with the number of stamps in my passport, or the number of pushpins I can poke through a map. There's just so much to see...so much to do.

My wish for everyone tonight is that you are one day able to ride all of the rails, both metro and mono, that your hearts desire.

Home Ain't Where The Heart Is Anymore

I'm man enough to admit that I cried like a girl when we crossed the Florida state line in February. I thought I was ready to start our new journey, but as the distance between us and Orlando started to grow, my confidence began to shrink.

As the weeks passed, the heartache subsided and I began to grow comfortable in our new setting. Then, it happened. YOU happened. You, our dear friends from across the country (and world), began to visit. We've had visitor from California, Florida, Tennessee, Texas, and even France. With each visitor, I would feel a tad bit more homesick; and after each visitor left, it would take just a little bit longer for that homesickness to subside.

In late June we decided that we could no longer delay preparing our home in Orlando for rental. It just wasn't economically feasible to let the house sit empty any longer. As TJ had to continue his Spanish language training, it was left to me to make the journey solo. TJ, aware of my chronic bouts of homesickness, was genuinely afraid that I would decide not to come back. I thought he was being ridiculous, but once I arrived in Orlando, I must admit that the thought did cross my mind once or twice.

My return to Orlando was met with warm greetings (not to mention free lodging, drinks, meals, and theme park admissions) from friends that were glad to have me back in town. I had been gone for four months but easily slid back into old roles. I was amazed at how much these people meant to me...and maybe moreso by how much I meant to them. As for the house...it was so good to be home.

That week was filled with a flurry of activity. In between all of the hanging out and having fun, I did have work to do. Repairs to make. Property managers to find. Refrigerators to scrub. Belongings to sort through. By the end of the week, I found myself standing in our old, empty bedroom, looking at the lake beyond our French doors. In that almost perfect moment of solitude, I wanted nothing more than for TJ to pack the pets up and come home. It was then that I realized that Orlando itself wasn't what made life perfect. The family that I had made there did. That family now lived in NoVA. And so, back to NoVA I went.

People have asked me how I was able to just pack up and move when TJ accepted this job. They want to know what I get out of the deal. It's certainly a question that I understand, but not one I can easily answer. I don't think its a fair question. If we were a married heterosexual couple, I don't think it would be an issue for people. But we are two men. And society has taught us that men must be self-sufficient. I suppose moving for another man creates the illusion of my being a depandant. I don't see it that way. This life change will allow me to travel the world. I will get to live in exotic places. I will be able to further my education. I can take up hobbies that I may have not even known I was interested in. I will be able to find out what I want to do with my life. By leaving a job that I've grown tired of, and a city that I love but can always visit, I am able to keep my family together.

Don't get me wrong...Orlando will always be home. The friends that I made there will always be my friends, and I hope to see them as often as life allows. I want them to visit us in Mexico, and wherever else the Foreign Service takes us. I hope that TJ and I are able to visit them every now and again. But for now, life goes on in other places.

There were no tears as I crossed the state line this time.