We've changed our minds...again.
And by "we" I mean Anthony, my favorite flighty blonde, has decided upon a new ethnicity for our soon-to-be family addition. Instead of the Doberman grandchild da' momma was expecting, it was changed to an American Staffordshire Terrier (aka Pitbull). Now it's a Boxer baby. He seems to think this dog will be a much easier sell on our landlords - yeah, who woulda' thunk? (Now if only we could get them to return our phone calls...or fix our window for that matter.)
Of course, we're still working out the financial kinks and aren't planning on adding to our family until after the holidays, but I have nothing else to talk about today and goodness knows you all would cry if I didn't write, now wouldn't you? However, if you're feeling festive and kind, you can always donate new puppy gear to the cause. All sorts of donations are welcome - from leashes to toys to puppy beds and a crate. Hey, it's my birthday in two weeks and Christmas is just around the corner!
Okay, so I really don't want puppy stuff for my birthday. But Anthony does - and HIS birthday is just around the corner too! (December 5th to be exact.) He would probably love you forever if you gave him a small puppy toy. Just imagine the hugs and kisses you could receive! (From the DOG, not Anthony. God no! I'm not sharing him.)
Tuesday, November 08, 2005
Tuesday, November 01, 2005
Plans for the Future Include Conquering the World
I want to be a life-long public servant, so shoot me. For the past year or so, I'm sure many of you have wondered, "When is Ryan going to settle down and DO something with her life?" or, "Why can't Ryan just stick with ONE JOB for a while?"
As the ten-year-old brat deep inside me would say: Because I don't want to.
The more mature outward self would tell you that I haven't found what I'm really called upon to do yet, but I'm still searching. I have plans. Lots and lots of plans. Backup plans to backup plans, and so on.
In fact, I've spent much of my internet time lately working on my strategy for taking the Foreign Service oral assessment later this month. Yes, I know, I've already worked for the State Department and many days it was less-than-perfect, but I'm trying out for the other side of the house this time around and I'm hoping things will be, if not different, then at least career-making. I think the work will be more challenging and I'll experience a greater diversity. So wish me luck on the exam because, if I pass, we all know I'm a shoo-in for the security and medical clearances.
HOWEVER, if plan A were to fall through the cracks, I still have plan B: apply to every last government job that I could possibly qualify for in an attempt to weasel my way into the foreign service through the back door. And I'm not just talking about the State Department here, folks. There's USAID, the Peace Corps - if they send their employees abroad, you know I'm applying!
It's not really a plan B so much as a currently workable plan that's already been put into action. Because, oddly enough, I can pass the Foreign Service oral assessment, obtain all my clearances, and STILL be on the waiting list for up to 18 months. We all know how much Ryan likes unemployment so let's just say that I won't be spending my wait in that state of things.
(For those of you who say, "But wait! You're already employed!" let me just explain to you that although I am a contractor for the Department of Treasury, I am contracted through a temporary employment agency, which means that my benefits amount to diddly-squat. Hell, I'm still considering getting Anthony so hammered he says "I do" and confers all his family health benefits to me! Mwahahahaha...)
Plan C involves the Peace Corps on a whole new level - the 27 months of living like a social worker, a.k.a. the volunteer experience. As of November 17th, I will know how well I did with the FS oral assessment, and if I have failed, I am working towards the Masters International or Masters USA programs that the Peace Corps offers, whereby your two-year volunteer commitment serves as credits toward a masters degree program. I am looking at the Masters of Science in Public Policy and Management program at Carnegie Mellon University (Jeff, you're totally getting a call from me on the 18th if I fail the FS exam), the Masters in Public Administration at George Mason University, and the Masters in Political Science at George Mason University.
This means that I am also looking into taking the GRE and have been bugging Mel for all of her Kaplan knowledge.
So basically, when/if I return from the Peace Corps, I can start the job application process all over again, only this time with a little more experience in my bag of tricks. If I'm going to take this "having a career" thing seriously, I might as well do all that I can to assure myself of one.
You might now be wondering to yourself, "Where is Anthony in all of this?"
Well, like the good houseboy he is, he'll be in the kitchen, baking me a pie.
Actually, we've had this conversation in a semi-realistic tone of voice and he promised to wait for me. Maybe, just maybe, if I'm a really good girl, he'll come visit me. Or, in the case that I'm working for some government agency's foreign service, he'll be able to come live with me while he continues to work for the State Department. It's all just one big pile of what-if's. We're taking it as it comes, folks.
All I know is that my mommy will visit me and really, isn't that all we really need in life? (Yes, specifically my mom. Or Ben's mom - whichever.)
So that's the story of the next few months of my life, people. If you have any advice, suggestions, or comments, please don't refrain. Post it here or email me. Heck, post it here AND email me! Whatever floats your boat and keeps me happy is all I ask.
As the ten-year-old brat deep inside me would say: Because I don't want to.
The more mature outward self would tell you that I haven't found what I'm really called upon to do yet, but I'm still searching. I have plans. Lots and lots of plans. Backup plans to backup plans, and so on.
In fact, I've spent much of my internet time lately working on my strategy for taking the Foreign Service oral assessment later this month. Yes, I know, I've already worked for the State Department and many days it was less-than-perfect, but I'm trying out for the other side of the house this time around and I'm hoping things will be, if not different, then at least career-making. I think the work will be more challenging and I'll experience a greater diversity. So wish me luck on the exam because, if I pass, we all know I'm a shoo-in for the security and medical clearances.
HOWEVER, if plan A were to fall through the cracks, I still have plan B: apply to every last government job that I could possibly qualify for in an attempt to weasel my way into the foreign service through the back door. And I'm not just talking about the State Department here, folks. There's USAID, the Peace Corps - if they send their employees abroad, you know I'm applying!
It's not really a plan B so much as a currently workable plan that's already been put into action. Because, oddly enough, I can pass the Foreign Service oral assessment, obtain all my clearances, and STILL be on the waiting list for up to 18 months. We all know how much Ryan likes unemployment so let's just say that I won't be spending my wait in that state of things.
(For those of you who say, "But wait! You're already employed!" let me just explain to you that although I am a contractor for the Department of Treasury, I am contracted through a temporary employment agency, which means that my benefits amount to diddly-squat. Hell, I'm still considering getting Anthony so hammered he says "I do" and confers all his family health benefits to me! Mwahahahaha...)
Plan C involves the Peace Corps on a whole new level - the 27 months of living like a social worker, a.k.a. the volunteer experience. As of November 17th, I will know how well I did with the FS oral assessment, and if I have failed, I am working towards the Masters International or Masters USA programs that the Peace Corps offers, whereby your two-year volunteer commitment serves as credits toward a masters degree program. I am looking at the Masters of Science in Public Policy and Management program at Carnegie Mellon University (Jeff, you're totally getting a call from me on the 18th if I fail the FS exam), the Masters in Public Administration at George Mason University, and the Masters in Political Science at George Mason University.
This means that I am also looking into taking the GRE and have been bugging Mel for all of her Kaplan knowledge.
So basically, when/if I return from the Peace Corps, I can start the job application process all over again, only this time with a little more experience in my bag of tricks. If I'm going to take this "having a career" thing seriously, I might as well do all that I can to assure myself of one.
You might now be wondering to yourself, "Where is Anthony in all of this?"
Well, like the good houseboy he is, he'll be in the kitchen, baking me a pie.
Actually, we've had this conversation in a semi-realistic tone of voice and he promised to wait for me. Maybe, just maybe, if I'm a really good girl, he'll come visit me. Or, in the case that I'm working for some government agency's foreign service, he'll be able to come live with me while he continues to work for the State Department. It's all just one big pile of what-if's. We're taking it as it comes, folks.
All I know is that my mommy will visit me and really, isn't that all we really need in life? (Yes, specifically my mom. Or Ben's mom - whichever.)
So that's the story of the next few months of my life, people. If you have any advice, suggestions, or comments, please don't refrain. Post it here or email me. Heck, post it here AND email me! Whatever floats your boat and keeps me happy is all I ask.
Monday, October 31, 2005
Our New Home
Our New Home
Originally uploaded by Pookah.
Just in case you find yourself in our neighborhood, here's a little sight reminder of where to go...
We'll be keeping a light on for you.
In Light of the Upcoming Holiday...
I know that officially it's Halloween, but ever since I passed the age of 12 and my mom no longer allowed us to go out and get free candy, I haven't been much of a celebrant. Instead, this time of year is all about Thanksgiving for me. Mostly for the food, but also for the time I spend with family and catching up with all those people who mean the most to me.
I am thinking about this today because I was reading some archived articles of Orson Scott Card on the Ornery American website and he wrote a really wonderful piece for Thanksgiving last year. It made me think of all the kindnesses I've been shown over the years (and hopefully have been appropriately thankful for at the time).
So in the spirit of the holiday, I want to thank the people who have made a difference in my life. From my third grade teacher who instilled in me the confidence to learn and be proud of that knowledge, to my friends from kindergarten through high school who enabled me to be different without feeling left out, to all the other teachers in the Clinton school systems who inspired me with their selfless (and often thankless) devotion to teaching all of us to behave long enough to learn the basics of life, to my friends from Penn who are truly the most non-judgmental people I have ever met and who I will always love even from a distance, to former coworkers and colleagues who always thanked me for my contributions and made me feel like part of a team, to those friends from the Philadelphia Film Festival who are so gifted and talented and full of life - who shared the better part of 7 years loving film with me, to other friends who have since slipped through the cracks and were always lighting up my life with laughter, to those professors at Penn (you know who you are) who actually loved TEACHING and showed me the path to truth and beauty, to the men in my life I have loved - for loving me despite my many faults and treating me like the princess my mom and dad always said I was, to all the families I adopted and who treated me like one of their own, to my father who was my first best friend and taught me how to trust in people, and to my Nonnie who was the original grande dame and held our family together despite our many differences and dislikes (she was more tolerant with all of us than we had any right to expect). Of course, more than anybody else, I am thankful for my mom who is my closest ally (and a great barometer for what I will be like in the future) and greatest treasure.
And that's the short list.
As for a broader list, I think Card said it best, so, although I wouldn't dare call myself a relgious person, and I don't believe in prayer, I am fully behind the sentiments of his essay and reprint part of it here:
This Thanksgiving there are thousands of people I have never met, to whom I owe a debt that cannot be repaid.
To you, Marine, still weary from the battle house to house in Fallujah, whom we called upon to overcome your natural fear and go into combat in our cause: What went through your mind and heart in those days of fighting is between you and your fellow soldiers and the God who knows your heart as no mortal being can. All I can see is the outward deed -- the courage to act on someone else's orders, in protection of someone else's life, at risk of your own.
To all you soldiers, sailors, pilots, marines who have served under fire, at risk of life, volunteers in the American cause: You carry with you painful memories so that countless civilians back home will not have such memories; the vast majority of your fellow-citizens remain innocent of the agony of war precisely because you have been willing to immerse yourselves in it.
You create and maintain the safe haven in which I live. Thank you.
To you in the reserve and national guard, who came when you were called and set aside your lives and left behind your families for months and sometimes years of service you did not hope for ...
To you whose military service is not in combat, yet who labor to make sure that our troops are well supplied, well trained, and only put at risk when there is a goal to achieve that is worthy of the sacrifice of life ...
To you civilians who, unarmed, have braved the dangers of war in order to help rebuild Iraq and Afghanistan, and restore their ability to live in peace and plenty ...
You make our nation possible, our whole world safer. Thank you.
To you policemen and firemen here at home whose vigilance protects us from dangers natural and deliberate, from barbarians foreign and domestic, and from our own foolish mistakes: Each day at work you don't expect to risk your life, but that risk is always there; and your constant vigilance is our protection. Thank you.
To you, the Iraqi soldier, newly trained in an army that was under fire from the moment you first stepped into a recruiting line: You know that your own families are at risk because of your service; that while you fight to liberate a part of your country from terrorists and thugs, others might come to your own home and assault your own family to punish you. You and I are patriots in different countries, but today we share a cause, and if your country keeps the freedom our soldiers have tried to bring you, it will be because of your own steadfastness and courage and sacrifice.
To you, the Iraqi policeman, who has had to learn new rules: The civilization of your own people is in your hands. You are teaching your people that the day of the torturers is past, so that they will look to you for protection, instead of dreading your approach; and you do it despite knowing that the barbarians will try to punish you and your family for your service in that cause.
To all the Iraqi and Afghan citizens who understand that American soldiers are only in your country until you have soldiers and police and a government that can be trusted to do your will and keep you free and safe: Your cooperation hastens the day when our soldiers can come home, a day we long for every bit as much as you. Your votes in elections; your obedience to law; they are also acts of courage and determination, and the whole world is safer because of them.
I salute you; I thank you.
And to you, the American soldier who has been torn by bombs or bullets, who came home maimed in body or in spirit by this war: I cannot restore to you what you have lost, but I will try to show you by my personal treatment of you, by contributions I make and the votes I cast in support of meeting your needs, by the honor that I give to you, and by the free and decent society that I will try to maintain, that the country that you served was worthy of the price you paid and will continue to pay all the days of your life.
Thank you.
You, the family whose child did not come home alive; you who have buried the hopes and dreams you had for that child's life; how can I comfort you? Except to tell you that the lives of all the children who have not died, whose future was not broken off by war, belong in part to you, because of the sacrifice you made.
I may not have known your lost sons and daughters, but I know why they died, and I love them for their sacrifice, and will not forget them; nor will I forget you, and the constant ache that will be with you for the rest of your lives.
I believe that in the eyes of God you are all held in honor; I know that in my own eyes, your suffering and sacrifice are gifts to your neighbors, to your nation, to all civilized people, whether or not they understand. I hope it helps sustain you, to know that I and many others like me are grateful to you and to the loved one you have lost.
On Thanksgiving day, family and friends will gather around a table in my home and give thanks to God for all the good things in our lives. Our home, our neighborhood, our city will mostly be at peace; there will be laughter and pleasure in our house, as well as solemnity and prayer.
Yet we will not forget you, none of you who have served us in this struggle. I promise that we will remember: You have been the hands of God in bringing this much more freedom, this much more hope of peace and justice to God's children, not only in your native land, but also among strangers.
No one has greater love than this: to lay down your life for your friends.
For that love, for your love, I give thanks.
I am thinking about this today because I was reading some archived articles of Orson Scott Card on the Ornery American website and he wrote a really wonderful piece for Thanksgiving last year. It made me think of all the kindnesses I've been shown over the years (and hopefully have been appropriately thankful for at the time).
So in the spirit of the holiday, I want to thank the people who have made a difference in my life. From my third grade teacher who instilled in me the confidence to learn and be proud of that knowledge, to my friends from kindergarten through high school who enabled me to be different without feeling left out, to all the other teachers in the Clinton school systems who inspired me with their selfless (and often thankless) devotion to teaching all of us to behave long enough to learn the basics of life, to my friends from Penn who are truly the most non-judgmental people I have ever met and who I will always love even from a distance, to former coworkers and colleagues who always thanked me for my contributions and made me feel like part of a team, to those friends from the Philadelphia Film Festival who are so gifted and talented and full of life - who shared the better part of 7 years loving film with me, to other friends who have since slipped through the cracks and were always lighting up my life with laughter, to those professors at Penn (you know who you are) who actually loved TEACHING and showed me the path to truth and beauty, to the men in my life I have loved - for loving me despite my many faults and treating me like the princess my mom and dad always said I was, to all the families I adopted and who treated me like one of their own, to my father who was my first best friend and taught me how to trust in people, and to my Nonnie who was the original grande dame and held our family together despite our many differences and dislikes (she was more tolerant with all of us than we had any right to expect). Of course, more than anybody else, I am thankful for my mom who is my closest ally (and a great barometer for what I will be like in the future) and greatest treasure.
And that's the short list.
As for a broader list, I think Card said it best, so, although I wouldn't dare call myself a relgious person, and I don't believe in prayer, I am fully behind the sentiments of his essay and reprint part of it here:
This Thanksgiving there are thousands of people I have never met, to whom I owe a debt that cannot be repaid.
To you, Marine, still weary from the battle house to house in Fallujah, whom we called upon to overcome your natural fear and go into combat in our cause: What went through your mind and heart in those days of fighting is between you and your fellow soldiers and the God who knows your heart as no mortal being can. All I can see is the outward deed -- the courage to act on someone else's orders, in protection of someone else's life, at risk of your own.
To all you soldiers, sailors, pilots, marines who have served under fire, at risk of life, volunteers in the American cause: You carry with you painful memories so that countless civilians back home will not have such memories; the vast majority of your fellow-citizens remain innocent of the agony of war precisely because you have been willing to immerse yourselves in it.
You create and maintain the safe haven in which I live. Thank you.
To you in the reserve and national guard, who came when you were called and set aside your lives and left behind your families for months and sometimes years of service you did not hope for ...
To you whose military service is not in combat, yet who labor to make sure that our troops are well supplied, well trained, and only put at risk when there is a goal to achieve that is worthy of the sacrifice of life ...
To you civilians who, unarmed, have braved the dangers of war in order to help rebuild Iraq and Afghanistan, and restore their ability to live in peace and plenty ...
You make our nation possible, our whole world safer. Thank you.
To you policemen and firemen here at home whose vigilance protects us from dangers natural and deliberate, from barbarians foreign and domestic, and from our own foolish mistakes: Each day at work you don't expect to risk your life, but that risk is always there; and your constant vigilance is our protection. Thank you.
To you, the Iraqi soldier, newly trained in an army that was under fire from the moment you first stepped into a recruiting line: You know that your own families are at risk because of your service; that while you fight to liberate a part of your country from terrorists and thugs, others might come to your own home and assault your own family to punish you. You and I are patriots in different countries, but today we share a cause, and if your country keeps the freedom our soldiers have tried to bring you, it will be because of your own steadfastness and courage and sacrifice.
To you, the Iraqi policeman, who has had to learn new rules: The civilization of your own people is in your hands. You are teaching your people that the day of the torturers is past, so that they will look to you for protection, instead of dreading your approach; and you do it despite knowing that the barbarians will try to punish you and your family for your service in that cause.
To all the Iraqi and Afghan citizens who understand that American soldiers are only in your country until you have soldiers and police and a government that can be trusted to do your will and keep you free and safe: Your cooperation hastens the day when our soldiers can come home, a day we long for every bit as much as you. Your votes in elections; your obedience to law; they are also acts of courage and determination, and the whole world is safer because of them.
I salute you; I thank you.
And to you, the American soldier who has been torn by bombs or bullets, who came home maimed in body or in spirit by this war: I cannot restore to you what you have lost, but I will try to show you by my personal treatment of you, by contributions I make and the votes I cast in support of meeting your needs, by the honor that I give to you, and by the free and decent society that I will try to maintain, that the country that you served was worthy of the price you paid and will continue to pay all the days of your life.
Thank you.
You, the family whose child did not come home alive; you who have buried the hopes and dreams you had for that child's life; how can I comfort you? Except to tell you that the lives of all the children who have not died, whose future was not broken off by war, belong in part to you, because of the sacrifice you made.
I may not have known your lost sons and daughters, but I know why they died, and I love them for their sacrifice, and will not forget them; nor will I forget you, and the constant ache that will be with you for the rest of your lives.
I believe that in the eyes of God you are all held in honor; I know that in my own eyes, your suffering and sacrifice are gifts to your neighbors, to your nation, to all civilized people, whether or not they understand. I hope it helps sustain you, to know that I and many others like me are grateful to you and to the loved one you have lost.
On Thanksgiving day, family and friends will gather around a table in my home and give thanks to God for all the good things in our lives. Our home, our neighborhood, our city will mostly be at peace; there will be laughter and pleasure in our house, as well as solemnity and prayer.
Yet we will not forget you, none of you who have served us in this struggle. I promise that we will remember: You have been the hands of God in bringing this much more freedom, this much more hope of peace and justice to God's children, not only in your native land, but also among strangers.
No one has greater love than this: to lay down your life for your friends.
For that love, for your love, I give thanks.
If I don't get around to it later, Happy Thanksgiving!
(Or, Happy Gobble-Gobble!, as my friend Jeff would say.)
Friday, October 28, 2005
If You Really Loved Me, You Would Give Me Pumpkin Pie
Traditionally, pumpkin pie is a Thanksgiving treat for me. I go all year, practically detesting sweets (except ice cream - I love you, Ben & Jerry's!), until I see that creamy orange-y goodness on a crust. Then there's no holding me back.
For example, my Thanksgiving of Michelle involved a week of pumpkin pie for breakfast, lunch and dinner. It was GLORIOUS.
So that brings me to this afternoon. My building - er, the building I work in - is hosting a Halloween party in the lobby. Apparently they do this kind of thing all year - popcorn Friday on the last Friday of the month, hot dog and lemonade parties over the summer, etc. (No one checks you in at the door by the way - it's the Homer Building, right above the Metro Center stop on the 13th Street exit, and I'll be seeing you on Fridays.)
Anyway, there's a pumpkin carving contest and, more importantly, pie and hot apple cider (another joy of the Autumn season!). I want you to know that I stepped out to get my sister's birthday present and returned to a lovely, pumpkin-y, god-bless-you-all-because-I-feel-ecstatic treat. These last five minutes have been heaven.
And if you ever want to get on my good side during the months of October and November, when there is just the right twinge of nippy in the air, you know the drill. And I expect whipped cream with that.
p.s. I ABHOR Cool Whip.
For example, my Thanksgiving of Michelle involved a week of pumpkin pie for breakfast, lunch and dinner. It was GLORIOUS.
So that brings me to this afternoon. My building - er, the building I work in - is hosting a Halloween party in the lobby. Apparently they do this kind of thing all year - popcorn Friday on the last Friday of the month, hot dog and lemonade parties over the summer, etc. (No one checks you in at the door by the way - it's the Homer Building, right above the Metro Center stop on the 13th Street exit, and I'll be seeing you on Fridays.)
Anyway, there's a pumpkin carving contest and, more importantly, pie and hot apple cider (another joy of the Autumn season!). I want you to know that I stepped out to get my sister's birthday present and returned to a lovely, pumpkin-y, god-bless-you-all-because-I-feel-ecstatic treat. These last five minutes have been heaven.
And if you ever want to get on my good side during the months of October and November, when there is just the right twinge of nippy in the air, you know the drill. And I expect whipped cream with that.
p.s. I ABHOR Cool Whip.
Wednesday, October 26, 2005
HELP! I'm Employed
Okay, so the word is out and it ain't pretty. I'm working again. This time for the Department of Treasury - please don't let me bore you with the details, but be aware that in just a short week and a half I will be entitled to my first paycheck (with which to pay off the lovely Eric Gordon and all his cronies for a Saturday night of debauchery followed by a nap - I mean, cab ride - home at 4AM).
So far all I have done is stare at the white walls of my fairly nondescript office and treat myself to a tour of the gym. It's a wonderfully exciting life, I tell ya.
Yet I thought I should share the experience with all of you and remind you that, if there's any of you out there who are seeking a friendly abode in our nation's capital, then have I got a futon for you!
Mmmm-hmmmmm...
So far all I have done is stare at the white walls of my fairly nondescript office and treat myself to a tour of the gym. It's a wonderfully exciting life, I tell ya.
Yet I thought I should share the experience with all of you and remind you that, if there's any of you out there who are seeking a friendly abode in our nation's capital, then have I got a futon for you!
Mmmm-hmmmmm...
Monday, October 03, 2005
Movin' On Up
Well, I expect this will be one of my last chances to post, as I am moving down to DC in a few short days, during most of which I will have company. It is also undetermined as to when I will actually see an internet connection again as we are very, very, very poor. We're talking library internet here, and we all know I am too lazy to get myself to a library so it may be a while.
In any case, I'm very excited about the move. I still get nervous twitches because Anthony is being a bit of a prat, having never lived with anyone outside of his family before, but I think I should be able to break him in within a few days.
If not, well, there's always the single life. (smile)
So I've packed up everything I own, except a small pile of clothes to last me the week and all my toiletries. My mom keeps complaining about how she doesn't like my room anymore, with everything looking all blank, but other than the onslaught of tears I am expecting any day now, things are looking up.
Now I just need to find me a job!
Otherwise, hopefully I'll see you all soon, same bat time, same bat channel...
In any case, I'm very excited about the move. I still get nervous twitches because Anthony is being a bit of a prat, having never lived with anyone outside of his family before, but I think I should be able to break him in within a few days.
If not, well, there's always the single life. (smile)
So I've packed up everything I own, except a small pile of clothes to last me the week and all my toiletries. My mom keeps complaining about how she doesn't like my room anymore, with everything looking all blank, but other than the onslaught of tears I am expecting any day now, things are looking up.
Now I just need to find me a job!
Otherwise, hopefully I'll see you all soon, same bat time, same bat channel...
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