33, Part 3: Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey: Dragons

We capped off my birthday weekend with a trip to the circus.  Yes, the circus.  Cuz that's how we roll.  It was a fun day.  Better than either of us had expected, which was amazing since TJ, assuming I like all things juvenile, suggested that we go even though he didn't want to, and I, not really wanting to go either but thinking that his suggesting it meant that HE wanted to go, said yes.

The name of the show was Dragons, and the theme was that different warring tribes have come together for a competition in which they must demonstrate Strength, Courage, Wisdom, and Heart in order to release the power of the dragon within.  Sounds like a rejected premise for Captain Planet and the Planeteers, but it really was a good setup for the circus acts that followed.

We bought the nosebleed tickets because, frankly, $65 a head seemed a tad excessive for ringside seating at a "regular" circus.   Maybe if it had been Cirque du Soleil.  Maybe.

In a much appreciated move, the doors opened an hour early for ticket holders to go ringside and view the human and animal performers up close.

We got to see an elephant paint a masterpiece and then play the harmonica...

We saw some kids learning to be Kung Fu masters...

And we got these awesome clown noses.

When the show began, we grabbed our Kleenex (for the nosebleeds) and headed up top.  Picture quality diminished, but hey, what can ya do?

Spoiler Alert:  At the show's conclusion, The Planeteers succeeded in releasing the dragon. *gasp!*

All in all, it was a wonderful conclusion to a wonderful birthday weekend.  I'd do it all again in a heartbeat.  Only, can I skip the aging part next time?  No need to rush things.

Snow Buddies 2: The Sequel

***We interrupt this important birthday blogging event to bring you 

a special report on weather in the Washington, D.C. area.***

When we first moved to Falls Church in February 2010, I found myself telecommuting back to my old job in Orlando and feeling very lonely and fish-out-of-watery while TJ spent his days learning Spanish and hobnobbing with diplomats at the Foreign Service Institute.  One of my coping mechanisms was to build a snowman named Bernard on our balcony.  He kept me company as I worked (or, more accurately, pretended to work).  He eventually died. It was sad.

He was a good snowman. Not too big, not too small.  Never one to put on airs, yet always stylish, he had a dapper dish towel for a scarf.  I always promised that, if I were to find myself back in the D.C. area for winter, I would bring him back to life, all Frosty Returns style.

To my immense joy, we arrived in October, just before prime snowman season began. Sadly, anticipation for Bernard's return diminished quickly as the winter months passed without much snow.  Imagine my surprise when, just days after the start of the spring season, the Metro D.C. area was bombarded with snow.

I returned from work this afternoon (Yes.  The Office of Personnel Management, which likes to cancel work at the drop of a hat if the weatherman even hints at snow, failed to call it a snow day when there was actually white stuff on the ground) and quickly surveyed my surroundings.  There was no balcony snow.  This wasn't good, as I don't trust ground snow. I mean, I have two dogs.  I know what happens on the ground.  Taking stock of the situation, I noticed a large concentration of accumulation on  the stair railings.  Emptying my insulated lunch bag of its tupperware and utensils, I quickly filled it to capacity with rail snow and scurried up the stairs to create life.

The results were dazzling.

He was magnificent....and yet, I noticed immediately that he had begun to piddle on the pavement.  It simply wasn't cold enough to keep him alive.  Not so easily defeated, I concocted a counter maneuver.  Mother Nature ain't got nuthin' on me.

When TJ returned form work this afternoon, I threw open the freezer door in triumph.  He stared for a moment and then let out a raucous laugh.  I think he was pleased.  He knows how much I enjoyed Bernard's company, and I think he was happy to see him again as well.

Of course, I don't think he knows that Bernard has moved in permanently.  We will deal with that tomorrow.

33, Part 2: Madame Tussauds, Washington D.C.

I've become quite the Groupon window shopper as of late.  It happened by accident when I found myself bored at work and perusing the app store on my iPad mini early last week.  I had never gotten into the fad because TJ always likes to tell me that the only thing cheaper than buying something you don't really need because it's on sale...is just not buying it at all.  He's got a point.  Don't tell him I said that.

TJ freezes while crossing the Delaware with General George Washington, 

then gets down to brass tacks with President John Adams.

The trouble is that between his eight + hours of Arabic class and my eight hour job plus two hour commute Monday - Friday (Oh, yeah.  I quit Arabic.  Remind me to tell you about that sometime!), we find ourselves exhausted and not eager to remove our carcasses from the couch most weekends.  Finding myself in a bit of a funk, my eyes lit up when the Groupon app popped up as a recommended download.  I resolved then and there that we would make more of an effort to enjoy our weekends...and do it on the cheap! 

I go sass-for-sass with Teddy Roosevelt, then give John Quincy Adams a peep show

...he does not look amused. 

"Um.  I don't know how to tell you this, but...um..."

Using my birthday as the perfect excuse to make my first Groupon purchase, I selected two half-off admissions to Madame Tussauds for Saturday morning.  It's something I've always wanted to do here in D.C., but TJ has been reluctant.  I visited the New York location over Thanksgiving break during my (first) senior year in college and thoroughly enjoyed myself.  I was eager to see what this branch had to offer, but, when you live in a city with free museums galore, it's kind of hard to convince someone to pay for one.  Yay, Groupon!

The plan had been to spend the morning at Madame Tussauds followed by an afternoon walking amongst the Cherry Blossoms and capped off with dinner at our favorite restaurant, Texas de Brazil, which had sent me a buy one, get one free coupon in honor of my birthday.  Look at all of that BOGOing, folks!  We should be on Extreme Couponing!

Unfortunately, the cherry blossoms hadn't bloomed yet, despite multiple websites informing me that this was supposed to be the beginning of the peak time.  Whatevs.  We'll go next weekend.  Then I realized that the coupon for Texas de Brazil was only good Sun-Fri.  Now, we could have gone and paid full price, but it's the principle of the matter, folks.  I'm gonna save that puppy for another day. 

I entered a staring competition with J. Edgar Hoover;

Meanwhile, TJ helped Bob Woodward investigate the Watergate scandal.

"I'm king of the world!"

We're adaptable guys, so adjustments were quickly made.  In the end, our day consisted of  Madame Tussauds, lunchtime appetizers and mojitos at the Hard Rock Cafe (Which I effin' LOVE, by the way.  I think that anybody that says they don't like the HRC either hasn't tasted the food or simply doesn't like the concept of such a place.  Haters.), and a delicious home cooked Italian dinner accompanied by wine and Wreck-it-Ralph.  Yeah.  I can dig it.  I thought it was a pretty awesome day, all told.

Work it, girls!

33, Part 1: 911 and The Watermelon

We kicked off my birthday weekend last night with a trip to Tysons Corner for dinner and a movie.

Brad Anderson's The Call was our movie of choice.  It is a new thriller about a 911 operator (Halle Berry) coming to terms with the fact that a mistake she had made on the job six months prior had resulted in a caller's death when suddenly another girl (Abigail Breslin) calls in, having been kidnapped by the same creep.  At the midway point of the operator's quest for redemption, I became queasy and feared that I would not be able to enjoy my dinner.  At first I silently chastised myself for eating the leftover pizza I had found in the fridge earlier that afternoon, but I quickly realized that it was just movie anxiety.  

As we left the theater, two topics of discussion arose.  Topic number one consisted of basically patting ourselves on the back for choosing a good movie.  For real.  Go see it.  

Topic number two was us admitting that we are getting older, and knowing that we are getting older simply because we can't watch these types of movies with the same fervor that we did in our teens and early-to-mid-twenties.  

I remember back in high school when these movies didn't bother me.  In fact, I can remember getting Scream masks with my guy friends and scaring the crap out of our girl friends during a Friday night horror movie marathon, because these are only movies and it is ridiculous to be afraid of them.

College through the mid-twenties, these were just fun escapist popcorn flicks.  Sure, they'd make me jump every now and again, but once the brief panic subsided, I'd find myself laughing at how ridiculous I was being.  This seemed to be the case up through Texas Chainsaw Massacre (2003) and Saw (2004).  

Everything after that, including the sequels to the above mentioned films, makes me squirm uncomfortably, sans giggling.  I still watch them because sometimes you stumble across an interesting story, but I don't find them all that funny anymore.  Usually they are difficult to watch.  My theory on the matter is that, after a certain age you stop escaping into the world of fantasy and realize that there really are some sickos out there that get their jollies on this kind of thing.  The Call is a good example of that.  No supernatural elements whatsoever.  Just a mentally disturbed man that you could read about in tomorrow's newspaper headlines.  

Of course, the more likely answer is that the older we get, the more out of touch we become with today's youth and pop culture.  (And, you know, our hearts get weaker.)

As we entered La Sandia (translation:  The Watermelon), a Mexican restaurant that we had enjoyed during our 2010 stay in the area and were curious to try again with our post-Guadalajara taste buds, the more likely answer seemed to present itself as the absolute answer.  TJ had made reservations earlier that day and had included the little gem that it was my birthday.  The hostess greeted us and asked how old I was.  I crinkled my nose and admitted that I was turning 33.  After giving me the elevator eyes, she said "That's not bad. You look much younger.  You've got a grungy/edgy look about you, kind of like  ---."

Now, I understood grungy/edgy completely.  I was wearing jeans, Converse sneakers, and a blue hoodie.  What I didn't understand was who I apparently look like.  So I asked her to repeat herself.  She said it again, explaining that he was a singer.  I had no idea who she was talking about.  Two problems immediately presented themselves.  One, I couldn't hear her clearly (old), and two, what I could hear didn't sound like anybody I had ever heard of (old again).

TJ looked at her, then looked at me, and said "Well, you can say he's not old all you want, but you just proved that he is."  We laughed as she offered a weak apology and scurried away.  

Dinner was great.  I had been feeling homesick for Mexico and took the opportunity to order chicken mole poblano, the most authentic dish I could find on the menu.  The sauce was very reminiscent of what you would find in a restaurant in Mexico...and in my very own kitchen, thanks to some cooking lessons from my friend Bertha.

As we drove home, a Facebook notification alerted me to an e-mail from another friend, Alfa, who I met while working at USCG Guadalajara.  It was the entire text of the Mexican birthday song, Las Mañanitas.  My friend Esperanze did something similar this morning.  Such a special treat.  Local staff sang this song to everyone on their birthdays, and to me 5-10 times throughout the day and maybe the following day as well.  Likely because it was fun to embarrass me, but also I like to think because they knew it made me smile.  They also sang it on our last day of work, since they wouldn't be able to do it this year.

I awoke this morning to the sound of TJ crooning "Las Mañanitas" in my ear.  It was sweet and brought back lots of fond memories.

As I sit here celebrating my 33rd birthday one building over from where I celebrated my 30th and yet an entire country removed from where I celebrated my 31st and 32nd, I realize that, despite the ever increasing inability to digest scary movies and the sad but real separation between myself and pop culture, getting older is okay.

Look at all the memories and friends you accumulate along the way.

Now please excuse me.  I've got candles to blow out and red velvet cake to eat.  

One Month Anniversary

So much has happened since my last post and, while I do hope to chronicle all of my wonderful adventures in due time, I could not let today's milestone pass by without skipping over some of that and  sharing a more important joy with you.

You see, today is our one month wedding anniversary.

Yes folks, six months and one day prior to celebrating 10 years together as a couple we finally made honest men out of each other.  

It's something that we had talked about doing forever in various degrees of extravagance and simplicity, and something that was definitely on our minds having attended three weddings in Mexico and knowing of at least three other couples soon to take the plunge.  

For now, and for various reasons, we have opted for a modest courthouse ceremony surrounded by a few good friends from our personal and professional lives.  We are toying with the idea of doing a larger religious ceremony in Israel to compliment the legal service here in DC...mainly because I was, admittedly, a bit of a groomzilla leading up to the big day, pouting because I wanted a big party, but also because the new-Jew in both of us wants the ketubah, the chuppah, and the broken glass.      

Honestly, though...and this is important for any of you out there planning your wedding day and not feeling that it's big enough....when we were standing before the official and reciting our vows...nothing else mattered.  Not the flu that I had been fighting since the previous Thursday night.  Not the suit that TJ had planned to wear but had been lost by the dry cleaner.  Not the boutonnières that, while beautiful, were not what we ordered.  Nothing.  

We are married.  This nigh decade-long partnership has been validated.

Standing there in that tiny chapel, hand in hand, promising to love each other always in the presence of a handful of good friends...that's all anyone needs.  

That, and cake.  One of our guests insisted that a wedding always needs cake, so she brought one.  We snuck into Au Bon Pain after the ceremony, ordered drinks, and scarfed down the most delicious cake I have ever eaten as quickly and discretely as we possibly could because it was cold outside and we didn't want to get kicked out for bringing in outside food.  

It was simple.  It was quirky.  It was perfect.

Mount Vernon

Despite being snot-deep in the middle of his second cold/flu/major-annoyance-to-me since arriving in the metro DC area in late October (darn that drastic change in weather!), TJ mustered the energy to crawl out of bed long enough for us to accompany our Guadalajara friends Craig and Jo (and their rascally son Hector), who are also stateside in preparation for their next tour with the State Department, on an excursion to historic Mount Vernon this past Sunday.

Mount Vernon was the plantation home of our nation's first president, General George Washington (1732-1799).  The estate was designated a National Historic Landmark in 1960 and is also listed on the National Register of Historic Places.  

This was a much-anticipated outing for us, as our last stay in the Metro DC area didn't find us exploring much of the area beyond the District of Columbia.  Not that Mount Vernon, situated a mere 15 miles northwest of DC on the Potomac River, is what anybody could call very...beyond.  

Our tour of the facilities began at the Ford Orientation Center with a brief video tour of the property hosted by TV legend Pat Sajak.  It's always fun to see D-list celebs thrown into ridiculous situations, and Sajak, dressed in period garb and pretending to be jostled in a horse and buggy, doesn't disappoint.  This was followed by We Fight to Be Free, a 2006 short film that recounts Washington's most important military achievements and his courtship with Martha Dandridge Custis, the future Mrs. Washington.  I thoroughly enjoyed the movie, but the snorts and chortles I could hear from down the aisle led me to believe that TJ, perhaps, did not.  Eight-year-old Hector was more entertained, though he did almost fall out of his chair at the onset, when the announcer revealed that the film would be 18 minutes in length.  I was right there with him.  

As the crowd shuffled from the theater we made our way over to the main attraction:  The Mansion.  

Oh wait.  We stopped and saw a Christmas Camel named Aladdin first.  Now, I'm still not quite sure what a Christmas Camel is, but there was a plaque that explained how Washington enjoyed seeing exotic animals and paid 18 shillings to bring a camel to Mount Vernon in 1787.  I think that's something in the ballpark of  ninety cents, making him a sucker.  The National Zoo has free admission and lots more than just camels.  Of course, that didn't open for another 102 years, but whatever.   Anyway, Aladdin will be on display until January 6th, so plan accordingly, folks.   

Our next stop was the mansion, which is allegedly depicted as it was in 1799, based on an inventory conducted upon Washington's death.  

Photography is not allowed inside, which is always a sticking point for me.  How in the world am I ever supposed to remember what something looks like if I can neither take a picture of it nor be bothered to open my laptop and blog about it until three days after the fact?  I'm just going to steal a quote from the website:  "The Mansion features original furnishings, items owned by the Washington family, 18th-century objects, and a small number of reproductions.  Vibrant wall colors, reconstructed after careful paint analysis, demonstrate the Washingtons' wealth and sense of fashion."  Tour guides were stationed throughout the house, and through them we learned that the last room in the house to be finished was the dining/entertaining room, which features intricate wall art to represent Washington the farmer, not Washington the general.  We learned that Martha decorated their master bedroom, an uncommon occurrence during the period which was likely permitted because she used the space as her private office during the day.  We learned that Martha vacated the bedroom and relocated to a room in the attic upon her husband's death.  Oh!  That reminds me:  We got to tour the attic, a treat reserved for the holiday season.  Like the camel, I guess.  

Surrounding the house are a variety of structures like the restrooms (both public and historic), the kitchen, the storage facilities, carriage houses and the (eek!) slaves' quarters, all set up in your standard museum/take-a-peek-at-an-authentic-room-of-the-times fashion  Two building that feature staff presentations are the Blacksmith Shop and the Greenhouse, though both were inconveniently closed for lunch as we passed through.  You'd think they would stagger breaks like at Disney World, but whatevs.  Near as I can tell, the "blacksmith" pretends to make things and the Greenhouse is only used for guest interactions with people dressed up in period attire.  That's sort of odd, given that this wintery time of year presents a golden opportunity to showcase the benefits of a greenhouse.  I mean, seriously.  Look at the dead garden outside the greenhouse.

Next up was Cobbler, the National Thanksgiving Turkey.  This one makes more sense than the camel.  Cobbler was this year's recipient of the famed (and coveted, in turkey circles) presidential turkey pardon .  Cobbler is very protective of his friend Gobbler, and was none to happy about our sstopping to take photos.  The pair will be on display until January 6th, at which point they will move into a custom-made pen at Mount Vernon's livestock facility.  

We then meandered through the gardens of the estate, making our way to Washington's Tomb (site &  materials specified in his will) and the Slave Memorial (designed by students at Howard University).

The remainder of our day was spent walking the trails, where a humorous sign that began "Species Washington Didn't See" in an attempt to explain animal migration instead had me imagining unicorns and dragons, and visiting the museum, where we saw the lower half of Washington's famous wooden teeth and bitterly wondered where the top half ran off to.  An exhibit entitled Hoecakes & Hospitality:  Cooking with Martha Washington provided several recipes that we are dying to try at home, including one for an alcoholic beverage called the Cherry Bounce that Craig and Jo enjoyed over lunch.  The taste I managed to sneak was divine.  Speaking of lunch, The Mount Vernon Inn Restaurant provided us with the most delicious meal I have had since being back in the states.  TJ and I shared a bowl of Virginia Peanut & Chestnut Soup, followed by a Meat & Potato Pye for him and a a Duck and Sausage Cassoulet for me...followed by a shared helping of Homemade Bread Pudding.  My lack of food reviewer training prevents me from describing just how savory this meal was.  Suffice it to say, we will be going back next month, when out-of-town visitors provide an excuse for a return visit. 

I'm super excited for this return visit, as my camera died shortly after visiting the tomb and memorial.  I discovered early in the day that my camera battery was low.  Hector wanted to take a picture of a squirrel he saw climbing a tree along the bank of the Potomac, then proceeded to take fifteen (Seriously.  Fifteen.)  photos of various animals' derrieres.  Here's his best one:

TJ's cold had started flaring back up around lunchtime, and after that meal we were all exhausted anyway, so we decided to call it a day.  All in all, it was our most enjoyable excursion since returning to the states and a great start to the many tales I plan on recounting over the next eight months!

Back in the Saddle

Wow.  All I can say is...wow.  I have never been so tired in my entire life, and all I do is sit in a classroom all day.

I had NO idea that language training would be so exhausting.  Or that transitioning between posts could be so frustrating.

The government will graciously pay to ship your car to your next post for you, free of charge.  Or to Washington, DC so that you can have it with you during your training.  But they won't do both.  What this means is that at some point, should you choose to bring your car along for every step of the journey, you will be responsible for a fairly large shipping bill.  That's where a posting in Mexico or Canada is so helpful:  your vehicle can be driven across the border.   Of course, that's slightly more difficult in Mexico, where drug violence has resulted in a ban on driving across large swaths of the country.

And so it was that on the evening of Sunday, October 21st we said farewell to our Jeep Compass, our pets and whatever belongings we could shove into the car and watched as they all disappeared into the evening darkness, piloted by a man we had never met before.  In order to avoid shipping fees we entrusted them all to the brother of the previous ACS chief's boyfriend, who was to meet us at the Nuevo Laredo airport the following afternoon.  As we went to sleep that evening, thoughts of never again seeing our car, in which we had just invested $3,500 in unexpected last-minute repairs, danced through our minds.  Oh, yeah.  The animals, too.  But mainly the car...  

Everything went as planned and we were ecstatic to arrive in Nuevo Laredo early Monday afternoon to find that no animal had used the backseat as its own private bathroom during the course of the overnight, eleven-hour drive.  Whether he was kind enough to stop and walk them, I can't say...though given that he still had all ten fingers and none of them had run off into the desert, I'll hazard a guess and say that didn't happen.  Either way, this plan saved us from a headache like the one we experienced importing our pets INTO Mexico.

After dropping the driver off at the bus station, waiting in line at the border for thirty minutes to return the Jeep's import permit, waiting another twenty minutes to cross the actual border, and then spending twenty minutes at the Laredo, TX DMV to get a temporary vehicle registration for the state of Texas so that we'd be street legal (Yes, only twenty minutes at the DMV, can I get an 'Amen'?) we were ready to begin the thirteen hour trek to Pensacola, FL, where we would renew our Florida vehicle registration.  Gotta maintain that Florida residency, y'know?

We spent Monday night in San Antonio, made it to Pensacola the next evening and then, following another short trip to the DMV (Seriously, did they improve their efficiencies or what?!?!), set our sights on Atlanta, where we stopped to rest and have a short visit with our friend David Z.  David is a friend from Orlando who, after changing his name to DZ set off on a quest for lyric-writing stardom that has seen him travel to NYC, LA and now Atlanta.  He's had many adventures along the way and appears poised to finally have his dreams come true.  I wish him well.  But this is my story, so we're moving along.

After our evening in Atlanta we made our way to Williamsburg, VA, where we set up camp for the next two evenings.  We're theme park people.  We're also Halloween-at-theme-parks people.  With that in mind, TJ pushed us through lengthy travel hours early in the trip so that we would arrive in Williamsburg in time to spend a full day at Busch Gardens Williamsburg, and a night at their Howl-O-Scream event.  The rides were fun, but the haunted houses were kinda...well...I wouldn't say they were bad, per se...just that the ones at Universal Orlando, Busch Gardens Tampa Bay, and Kings Dominion are much, MUCH better.  I did get to meet Cookie Monster, which was pretty awesome.

Saturday, October 27th found us finally rolling into Oakwood Falls Church, the corporate housing community that was our home for nine months in 2010 during TJ's A-100 and subsequent Spanish and Consular training, and will be our home again for the nine months of his Arabic and Economics training.  I wasn't too thrilled with Oakwood last time.  I think we both almost cried when we first laid eyes on it, and I distinctly remember TJ avoiding direct eye contact for fear that it would start a fight.  Throughout the course of our previous stay we were subjected to limited parking spaces, unsightly clutter in our hallway and on the community grounds, and lots of loud construction noises.  That was all due to a large wave of home renovations that the property was undergoing at the time, and I must say that it has paid off.  We have been here for a month and are thoroughly enjoying the new Oakwood.  I still wish it was closer to DC, but with pets there's not a lot we can do about that.  Plus, it's close to The Foreign Service Institute, where we spend most of our time anyway.  But let's not get ahead of ourselves.

We arrived with just enough time to unload the car, meet our friend Jhonny for lunch, and start unpacking before it was time to start thinking about stocking up on provisions.  You see, Hurricane Sandy had decided to come to town that weekend, too.  Anyone that knew us at the time joked that we brought "Snowmaggedon" with us last time, and a hurricane this time.  Writing this, I am reminded of my dear friend Bernard the Snowman, who kept me company during my first few days working at home the last time around.  I'll be with TJ at FSI this time, but I smell snow on the horizon...I think Bernard will be making a comeback very soon.

As more information is gathered about the storm, we are learning that her impact on the region was more devastating than that of Hurricane Katrina on New Orleans back in 2005.  At the time all we really knew was that it pushed our Arabic classes start date from Monday, October 29th to Thursday, November 1st.  We were fortunate enough to maintain all utilities throughout the storm and to face no traffic obstructions in the aftermath, a lucky streak that has been with us since our days in Central Florida facing that region's vicious hurricane seasons.

When access to FSI was finally granted, new problems arose.  Through a payroll error either in Guadalajara, Mexico City or Washington, my final paycheck did not drop.  I should have received it on November 2nd; I finally got paid on Friday, November 30th.  I've heard from other EFMs that have served at other posts that they've had issues getting paid properly as well, so going forward I'll just assume that EFM abuse is an unacceptable yet unavoidable par for the course.

 TJ faced his own pay drama when it was determined that our second night in Williamsburg would not be covered under his travel reimbursement because we had not actually travelled anywhere.  He had previously been told that it didn't matter how much we travelled on a given day so long as we departed post when instructed and arrived for training when scheduled.  The new instruction says "Well, yeah, okay...but you have to travel a little."  Right.  Anyway, per diems and travel reimbursements take forever to receive, so we're still waiting on what we will be receiving.  My final paycheck was nice to finally obtain, but it was sad knowing that my portion of the income will be missing for the foreseeable future.  Upside of being an EFM:  Free language studies/  Downside of being an EFM:  Your job disappears when your partner/spouse leaves post.

Oh, we also found out last week that the tenants living in our house are moving out at the end of December.  Hah.

Somewhere along the way, we hit the campaign trail in support of our favorite presidential candidate, finding ourselves only slightly disappointed when she lost...

...then settled in for our favorite holiday feast.  Thanksgiving was a quiet affair, just the two of us and our friend Joey, who brought a lovely arrangement of bread stuffed inside a homemade cornucopia.  I'm ashamed to say the only photo I took was of the food...and that I still haven't managed to master the art of food photography.  We spent that evening at The Kennedy Center, watching American Idol runner-up Constantine Maroulis and gay icon Deborah Cox tear up the stage in Jekyll & Hyde.  The performances were amazing, but that doesn't save the show from a lack of coherent plot.  The critics seem to agree.

Beyond the above, not much has happened while we've been in town.  We've walked the National Mall, had a few drinks on the town, and studied...studied...studied.  Oh, and slept.

Learning a language as a full time job is exhausting.  My two month "let's-learn-how-to-go-to-Wal-Mart"  course toward the end of our last stay in the area was a cakewalk compared to this.  I now understand why TJ used to come home from work exhausted and lacking the desire to do anything but nap, watch television over dinner, and go back to bed.  I used to give him such a hard time, and now I can but apologize for being an unsympathetic jerk.

We start our second month of Arabic tomorrow morning.  We've pretty much got the alphabet and basic pronunciation down, along with several key words and phrases.  We're not even close to being able to have a decent conversation.  I never managed to obtain fluency in Spanish, but I'm able to communicate effectively.  And, one month into Arabic, I sure feel like I'm fluent in Spanish.  Woof.

We've seen a lot of recently released movies and chowed down on the foods we couldn't find in Guadalajara.  We've wandered out on the weekends and made a couple of new friends.  But nothing "new" has happened since we've been back.  Until today.

Today we managed to muster up the energy to accompany some friends from Guadalajara on an adventure to Mt. Vernon.  It was a lot of fun and I can't wait to tell you about it.  BUUUUTTTTT, it's the first truly new thing we've done since arriving, so that will get its very own post within the next few days...if I can manage to stay awake after class, that is.