In a Phoenix Phase... again

I've battled with depression in the past. That hopeless feeling you get when you feel you're stuck in a situation you just can't get out of. I haven't dropped to that level yet, but good God, I'm having a rough time lately.

My sister put it into perspective for me this past week in an email. It was hard to look at, but so true. My entire life has changed - 95% from what it was less than six months ago. I'm burning again, and I know there's major rebirth - there's some hard seed deep within that's just beginning to crack open to new possibilities I've never considered. I get that. But philosophy aside, this period of my life sucks. It really, really hurts. And I don't feel like I can take much more. Here's a snippet of the changes:

- Single mom
- New house
- Loss of brother-in-law, who I loved dearly
- Major financial changes
- New job
- New job isn't what I'd hoped for
- Loss of a business, built from a dream
- Loss of steady child care thanks to the loss of the business
- Many, many upset families thanks to said business loss
- New dog, again. A puppy that chews, to boot.
- Health issues
- Closing down the second business
- Failing a client for the first time in my life
- Living in a house starting from scratch. No furniture. No cable. Constantly breaking appliances.
- No place to go to to relax, calm, renew
- Missing out on the time I had with the kids - narrowing from 5+ hours to 2 hours a day of free time with them, IF I'm lucky. I'm half the mom I was. Hell, not even half. I'm tired, I'm cranky and I don't friggin feel like playing Barbies. Sheesh.

And so, yeah, I'm down in the dumps. I haven't been out with any of my friends in over a month. I haven't had my regular girlfriends over on our regular nights, who I never realized made me so much saner. I've made plans, but every time I do, I end up having the kids, dealing with a crisis or emergency or working a trillion hours that won't allow me to get away for a moment of peace.

So, I guess it's just a funk. My temptation is to go to the doctor, to ask for something to make it all feel better. To find an easier way out than getting up each day, battling through it, coming home defeated. But I won't. Not yet. Given that long laundry list of changes, i think it would be abnormal not to feel unhappy, unsatisfied, forlorn. I will get there, and I will mark each day off the calendar until I get to that day where I can once again wake up, knowing I can make it through the day and that it will, indeed, be a better day.

Until then, burning down to ashes, awaiting my reawakening.

The New Gig

I've officially completed my first week at the new job, and have to say, so far, so good. I feel like I'm on a steep learning curve - especially in terms of health care reform, which is what my current contract covers - but I also feel like I'm already starting to get into a groove with the new schedule. I like the people I work with, and am loving all the West End has to offer for lunch options. Yum. Gotta get back to running before that takes its toll. Especially Jimmy Johns. Man, those subs are addicting...

I digress. So anyway, I'm loving the new job, and having an ok time transitioning from working flexible hours to doing the 8 to 5 kind of gig. I miss seeing the girls as much, but feel like our evenings are a nice smooth pattern, and we're all very happy in the new neighborhood.

This weekend I had a house full of kids (yet still, no furniture... which actually works out well when you have 7 kids in a house). The neighborhood kids come and go from yard to yard and house to house, and the parents all seem great so far. I didn't get much accomplished on my cleaning agenda, but it was a fun, relaxing weekend full of kids all the same.

So, things continue, for the most part, on the up and up. I've had some sadness crop up here and there for external reasons, but feel fairly peaceful with life at the moment and the direction I'm heading. Now to figure out what to do with the kids for the summer!

Rollercoaster

I'm on a bit of an emotional roller coaster these past two weeks or so - watching my ex-mother-in-law suffer so is terrible. Horrible. I wouldn't wish what she's going through on my worst enemy. I hate not being able to help - just having to sit and wait.

And the divorce thing is still a stress maker. I can't wait to move on it.

And the businesses. Ugh. The businesses. Some days I want to throw in the towel on them both and hit the reset button.

Yet despite it all, I've had some FANTASTIC days mixed in. Full of friends, my babies, life and spring, oh glorious spring. My forsythia in the back yard are in full bloom, surrounded by daffodils and I go out several times a day just to see them. My God, how I'd missed the sun.

I once read a book that describes this phase as the Phoenix process - a time of death and rebirth, burning to ashes and waking up or opening to a new reality. The author of that book said that you can choose two things - to ignore it and continue to smolder into nothing, or embrace it and take the lesson that life is giving you to create something new, bold and beautiful. That analogy seems all the more poignant at the moment. I'm not sure when the burning stops - it's still in full force, but I'm already beginning to sift through the ashes of what was to figure out what the lesson was. What I can take from it. How I can grow. I'm getting bits of it, but I know I've got a long way to go before this process is over.

"Tears are words the heart can not express"

J2J IV: Koyasan has taken my heart

Our next adventure took us to Osaka, where we were completely confused by a new subway and rail system. We finally found the right line, which provided a two-hour train ride (both express and local) to the base of Mount Koya, or Koyasan as the Japanese call it. From there, we took a cable car unlike any other I'd seen up the side of the mountain, hopped in a bus and landed about 20 minutes later at our bus stop. It was breathtaking – gigantic hydrangeas and butterfly bushes lined our way, with bright bursts of lilies and the occasional glimpse of a water fall.

The mountain boasts more than 115 Shingon Buddhist temples in the village of Koya (5,000 people, 1,000 of which are monks), which was founded by Kobo Daishi (Kukai) about 1,200 years ago, who is said to still rest there in meditation.

Upon reaching our bus stop, we were immersed in a small village unlike anything else we had experienced in Japan thus far. We chose to stay at the Shojoshin-in Temple, a beautiful and ancient place. It was easy to find our host temple for the night, which was conveniently located at the entrance of Okunoin, a pathway that leads to the great Kobo Daishi’s shrine.

To be honest, we hadn’t a clue what to do upon arrival at the temple. We blustered around in search of the correct entrance, then figured out where our shoes went (no shoes in the temple). Thankfully we ran into some English-speaking guests who called an assistant to check us in.

We were almost an hour past dinner time (our train got stopped due to either a thunderstorm, accident or combination of the two – we had no idea what the explanation was as it was given in Japanese), but we still were able to receive our traditional vegetarian meal. Neither of us know most of the components of it, but it did contain beans, vegetable tempura, pickled vegetables, tofu, soup, watermelon and lots of seaweed/kelp type things. Some was very, very good. Others I am happy to have experienced but will never try again.

After dinner, we headed out to Okunoin, as we had read that it was something that must be seen at night as well as during the day. It was an incredible experience. The recent downpour had left the tombstones and monuments glistening, and the fresh air was tinged with incense and cedar. The shear number of carved stones was incredible... around 200,000 line the 1.6 km walk to the temple and shrine. We couldn’t see beyond the first few headstones, but knew that the depth of them must be incredible. I felt at peace and in awe to be walking down the very same path where emperors, samaurai and feudal lords had walked hundreds of years before. The path was lined with stone lanterns to lead the way, with trees leaning over the pathway, frogs creaking over head and gentle breezes tickling the back of your neck.

After our evening stroll, we headed back to our room, which opened onto a beautiful little Japanese garden. Our room was traditionally Japanese, complete with tatami mats, fusuma (sliding, paper lined doors) and communal bathing areas. We slept on futons on the floor, with the fusuma open onto a hillside Japanese garden, bringing in a nice breeze. I slept more soundly than I had the entire time here in Japan, lulled to sleep by the creaking boards, sweet incense and sounds of the wind outside. It's hard to describe the inner peace I felt that night - not just relief from the weariness of travel and modern life, but from some very personal and deep part inside me. In this foreign place so very different from my usual surroundings, my religious experiences or anything else I hold as my personal norms, it was strange to feel an undeniable sense of belonging.

In the morning I was woken by a bell calling us to prayers at 5:50 a.m. (Jason hadn't found the same inner peace, and had barely slept all night!) We splashed cold water on our faces and stumbled down with the rest of the tourists and henro (pilgrims) to watch the morning prayers, complete with chanting monks, strange rituals I did not understand, banging of cymbals and the ringing of a bell. Candles and incense burned, and the air around us shimmered with the light reflecting from the gold adornments, shiny black furnishings and elaborately woven rugs. It was magical, and I found myself lost in meditation, despite the language barrier and my lack of understanding. I was all too disappointed when it ended after what seemed like such a short time, but my feet were grateful – they were close to falling asleep. Sitting on the floor on tatami in the proper manner takes practice and flexibility, neither of which I’ve had. Time to take up yoga again when I get home.

We next were led to breakfast, which once again was served kaiseki style. We had seaweed, more tofu, more beans, more green stuff I couldn’t place. The tea was different than the previous night's green tea – I think Oolong? Again, I’m clueless as to what it was.

With the rhythms of the monks' chanting still ringing in my head, we headed out once again to walk to path in Okunoin. Sunlight streamed through the trees, and it was breathtakingly, achingly beautiful. The kind of beauty that you know you will experience only a few times in your life. The kind that makes tears spring to your eyes. I felt such peace and happiness in just being present and being there. It was incredible how much we could not see during the night that was visible the next morning. The path was much more populated, and I enjoyed watching the rituals at the various shrines, as well as the temple. Henro from across the country were there, easily identifiable by their white smocks and (sometimes) bamboo hats. We walked around Kobo Daishi's shrine, but were quickly shooed out of a side area – I guess we weren’t supposed to be there. Luckily we’re Americans, which equals barbarians to the Japanese, so I think we will be forgiven by the ancestors and those present in flesh as well!

I could not resist the temptation any longer to reach out and touch the mammoth trees, many of them hundreds of years old. The textures of the rough, flaking bark contrasted with the spongy, incredibly soft moss are now imprinted on my soul, along with the sights, sounds and smells of this incredible place.

This was one of those experiences I know I will carry in my heart until the day I die. It was all at once mystical, peaceful, magical, inspiring and awesome. If you ever get the chance to go to Koyasan, DO IT! No matter what your religious background, there is something that will undeniably move your spirit in ways you have not felt before. It is incredible.

Journe to Japan III: Kyoto and the Geisha

After three dull days of meetings in Otsu at Lake Biwa, we relocated to Kyoto, which has much more to offer in terms of sites, sounds, smells and people watching. Otsu was clearly a Japanese resort area, designed for Japanese. This meant there was little to do other than lay by the pool, bike or boat. All of these are fine recreations, but I couldn’t easily do any of these for fear of being seen skipping out on the meetings or potential dinner conversations that I was there for in the first place.

Our new diggs were a major upgrade at the Grand Prince Hotel of Kyoto. The hotel was located in the mountains, along a cedar-lined winding path. I was overcome with the fresh smell of cedar, something like jasmine and fresh, clean air (seemingly hard to find in the stifling Japanese summer). The shade of the trees and buzz of the cicadas added to the ambiance… this place was heavenly.

That evening I had to return that night for a special “congratulatory thanks and working dinner” with my fellow collaborators of the conference. I managed to navigate the transport system alone (took the subway, a rail line and a cab to get there). The dinner was traditional Japanese style, or kaiseki, in which multiple small dishes are served. It started with boiled tofu, sashimi, then sushi, tempura, Kobe beef, a pork dish, broiled salted fish, then moved on to Udon noodles, pickled Japanese vegetables, rice and concluded with some various fruits. The dinner was served over a two hour period, and I enjoyed the surprises each dish held. Although I’ve gone pretty much vegetarian over the past several months (still eat fish), I broke my self-enforced ban on meats and gave the Kobe beef a try. I’m so glad I did. The cows are massaged daily, fed beer and from all of this have the fat actually marbled into the meat, instead of separated as we see in American steaks. It literally melted in my mouth and was one of the best things I’ve ever had.

The following morning we hit the streets of Kyoto for a short time before I’d have to head back to Otsu for the evening. We went to Nijo Castle, which was first completed in 1603. Though low-lying and more functional than aesthetic, it was impressive none the less. We were mesmerized by the “nightingale” floors – the floor boards were designed to creak, making a sound that is similar to a nightingale’s song. This would alert the inhabitants of any intruders. We saw these boards at several places through out our travels.

From Nijojo we wandered the streets until we found a shopping and dining district, Teramachi. On pure accident we stumbled into a tiny sushi shop. The owner and (I think) his wife, plus one local were the only people there. They served us right on the sushi bar, and encouraged us to eat with our hands (I stuck with chopsticks, not a big fan of holding raw fish). The sushi was incredible. I’m going to miss it when I get back to the States.

My evening plans were to head back to Otsu one final night for the concluding banquet. I had been invited to sit on an honorary panel as part of a ceremony which included drumming on a beer barrel with wooden spoons. I ran out the door, walked to the subway, and jumped onto the Biwako line train just in time to make it to the dinner… so I thought. In actuality, I jumped on an express train that did not stop in Otsu, but went many kilometers beyond. Crap. It took me over an hour to get back to Kyoto, at which time it was too late for me to get a train to Otsu in time. I went back to the hotel, sad about missing the ceremony and conclusion of this project I'd been working on for more than four years.

When I got back to the hotel, I found that Jason had found ways to amuse himself while I was away, including Japanese whiskey, an in-room massage and that he had booked us for an onsen the next day. An onsen is a Japanese hot sulphar spring, and this one was on the other side of Kyoto, high in the mountains. The baths at this one were indoor, as well as outdoor, but all communal. Meaning lots of naked (though sexes are separated). I was not thrilled with this idea, given my heightened self awareness of my body (here in Japan I’m pretty much a sumo in comparison to most people). Thankfully we ran out of time so we didn’t make it up there to try it out. I didn’t know whether to be disappointed (once in a lifetime experience) or thankful (no nudity in public for me – yippee!).

The next day we woke up early and headed out once again to be Amerikajeen tourists. We stick out like sore thumbs here, and people often look at us and giggle. Some won’t sit near us on subways. I was feeling pretty self conscious about it all until I read that the Japanese are very shy and are afraid we’ll ask questions and they won’t be able to answer. Ohhh. That explains it. I’m glad I don’t stink (as much).

The weather is incredibly stifling here, hitting the 90s by 6 am or so (it gets light around 4:30). The humidity is unbelievable, and we found we broke into a sweat just walking out the doors of the hotel. We ended up walking over 8 hours that day, seeing historic sites (the Imperial castle grounds), visiting shrines and temples and stumbling into an area where Geisha still live and work. We caught a glimpse of one on the streets, but she was quickly surrounded by tourists (mostly Japanese) and squeals, and she ducked into a door and vanished as quickly as she appeared.

Journey to Japan II: Dining Fun

We haven't had much time to get out and do much here in Otsu, Shiga. Yesterday was my "big" (3 minute) speech of congratulatory welcome for the conference. I was nervous and didn't sleep a wink the night before... it's strange, because normally I'm fine with public speaking. I guess the difference was that I was on the other side of the world, speaking to an audience of which 2/3 did not speak the language I was presenting in. No pressure. I was told I did well, though, and as a result was inundated all day by smiling Japanese men who came up to me just to smile and say "Herro Kim-san" (I told them all they could call me Kim), then stand and stare at me. I get lots of attention here, that's for sure. I was self conscious most the morning, but then figured, ah, what the hell... so I'm a freak show. Might as well enjoy it!

I have received a few gifts already, and have been honored frequently by my Japanese hosts. I was feeling pretty high on life by the time our group lunch came around, but then made a bad decision in terms of seating. I sat next to someone I knew from the States, who was sitting beside a total lunatic. There were about 12 people at our table, and the lunatic proceeded to ask me about my background in microwave science (none), why I was there, etc. Clearly, he had issues about self esteem, so he was trying to make me look bad in front of my hosts and new friends. He then proceeded to tell everyone that he creates outstanding knives with handles made of microwave-dried wood (wow-wee) and that he buys mammoth ivory from Native Americans to make magic wands. Yes, he is an amateur magician. My passive-aggressive tendencies were too much for me to ignore, so I made several jokes at his expense, which others were laughing about later in the evening. Sorry buddy, messed with the wrong non-microwave-science chick.

Onward and upward... so yesterday's adventures were fairly minimal. Jason went out for long walks in the 95º+ weather with humidity making temps feel close to 110º. Then he came back for the Japanese tub, which is where I find him whenever I get back from meetings. He enjoyed being the center of attention, and said that he often had young children come up to him to say "herro" and giggle. It seems that he, too, is a freak show here.

For dinner we hit the hotel's barbecue. We had no clue what we were in store for. We were the only non-Japanese there, and it had a family, festive atmosphere. The menu, of course, was all in Japanese and our waiter and waitress didn't speak English. So we pointed to a couple of things (having no clue what they were) and tried to watch others eat so we'd know what to do.

A few moments after ordering we were served some edamame (yum! I know that one!) and cold beers that were somewhat like Miller lite in flavor. I have no clue what brand they were. Then they brought out a plate piled with all different things - steak, chicken-ish looking stuff, squid, bell peppers, cabbage, shrimp and other goodies. We tried our best to blend in and cook the stuff, then tried our hand at chopsticks. It's so much easier to eat sushi or noodles than small strips of beef with chopsticks, FYI. There was some sort of squash that looked like cantaloupe, tasted like sweet potatoes and was hard and somewhat crisp as well.

The best part was when I took a big bite of the squid's head, which apparently was attached to whatever endoskeleton thing they boast. It crunched, squirted down my throat and caused me to make a small scene while gagging on it. It tasted good, though, and I managed to recover and eat the tentacles, which I enjoyed.

I haven't seen any wildlife at all yet except for this little lovely creature that was crawling across the side walk last night.

We're now off to Kyoto, where ancient temples, castles and geisha-watching awaits. Now the fun begins! I have 2 more days of meetings, but will be skipping out on the mornings and showing up for the afternoon exhibit sessions and mandatory dinners. Tomorrow night I'm a part of a special ceremony that involves banging on beer barrels with wooden spoons. Another great honor for this silly American non-microwave scientist. Sayonara!

Side note: I have no clue what the bear means or what he is, but we see them everywhere, in big and small versions throughout the city we're in. Hmmm...

Journey to Japan, Part I: Toire, Shinkasen and Pachinko

Our trip to Japan started on Saturday morning, leaving DC to Tokyo, with a stop at JFK. JFK was oh-so-much fun to stop at - because we were on an international flight, we had to exit our arrival terminal entirely, go to another terminal, get our international tickets, go through security all over again and then get on the plane for Japan. We had an hour to do that. We rushed to the plane withonly moments to spare, only to hear the announcement that our flight was delayed. And so our adventures began...

Our plane was a big ol' 747, which is much larger than anything else I'd ever been on. Despite its size (we were on the upper deck), six hours into the trip my butt was aching and my feet had swollen twice their normal size. After a little more than 13 hours of seated pleasure, we arrived in Tokyo and navigated the airport. Thankfully, many of the signs had English letters. In fact, to be honest, it was MUCH easier to navigate than JFK was!

You can guess where my first stop was once exiting the plane. Although the rest of the airport was very "Westernized," the bathroom is where culture shock began. This was what was awaiting me in the stall. It’s a hole in the ground with a splash guard. I wore a skirt to travel in, so it was a fun way to initiate myself into the squatting technique needed to use these things. And I’ve leared a few things along the way – “toire wa doko desu ka” means "where is the toilet?". Toire (pronounced "toy-ray"... see? you can learn Japanese, too!) are quite an adventure here.

In order to get to our first hotel, we first took a local express into Tokyo. Then we had to find the bullet train (shinkansen) to Kyoto. On the shinkansen they also had the hole-in-the-ground version of toire, which I'm sure is quite difficult to use when going over 180 miles per hour. Thankfully, they also had a Western toilet, which I decided was my best bet after that long day.

From Kyoto we took a local train to Otsu, which is where we are now. We arrived there at midnight, clocking in at just over 24 hours of continous travel. I wish we had photos of the trains, the down here and such, but it gets dark at 6 p.m. here, and we were too tired to think about cameras anyway. Once checking into our hotel in Otsu, though, we were met with our next discovery in the world of toire - the automatic, seat warming, bidet style. The handle features about six buttons, all of which are marked in Japanese. We're still figuring that one out a button at a time. You can adjust the heat, jet stream, angle, water temperature and a fan turns on the minute you sit down. These, I could get used to.

After taking a shower and hitting the deep, Japanese style tub, I crashed for about 10 hours. I can see why bathing is so popular here - after a long day in 90+ degree heat and humidity unlike anything I've ever experienced before, all I can think about is that bath tub. I need one of those at home, too.

View from Prince Otsu Hotel, Lake Biwa

Today was our first full day here. I got up late, then Jason and I went and walked around Biwaka (Lake Biwa) a bit, though there's not much to see. It's interesting that 7-11s are huge here - you find them more frequently here than in the US. The tea is great, and served with every meal. Oh, and the sushi... to DIE for. Unlike anything I've had in the US. And that's just the hotel sushi. I can't wait to get more rural.

The people here are super nice and courteous. Strangers stopped to help us find our way and many tried their best to understand our miserable Japanese attempts. We visited a local grocery store, just to try it out. It was fun to see what brands are here (Fanta, Pringles, Lipton, Koka Kora...). Everything, though, is in Japanese, and it's difficult to guess what some things are. There are vending machines on every corner, but very little soda. I think most of the stuff is juice, tea and caffe au lait... but it's all in Japanese, so hard to decipher what is what. We've tried a few snack foods, but I have no clue what they are. I had some tea that tasted like hay. And I had some sort of curry for dinner that looked awful but tasted great.

During our wanderings today, we also found a Japanese arcade. We were definitely the only caucasians in the joint. I tried my hand at pachinko, which I think is something along the lines of a marriage between a ping pong machine and slot machine. I have no clue how it works or what I was doing, but it was loud, noisy and a truly Japanese thing to do, so I did it. Jason found a bongo drum virtual machine which he played with for a while. One hundred yen goes a long way in one of those places (about $1).

It is fun to be in such a different culture. Though it looks very Westernized here in terms of architecture, and even fashion, it is definitely very different from the US.

We're here on Lake Biwa for 3 days for my conference, before heading on to Kyoto, which is a very old city that was Japan's capital for over 1,000 years. Hopefully I can sneak out of conferences a bit to see more, though there really isn't much to see where we are now. I'll update as I can... it's amazing that there's no Internet easily accessible in such a technologically advanced country. Heated toilets - no WiFi - go figure!

Heading to the Other Side of the Earth

Ackh! Tomorrow I leave for DC and early Saturday morning I'm heading for the other side of the world! This thought hit me at about 11:00 today, in the midst of fighting with my fencing contractor, surveying the damage (extensive!) to my yard due to the trenching for the new plumbing in the garage and negotiating the final permit stuff with the county. How did it sneak up so quickly?

So, tonight I've been scouring the internet, picking up free sources for quick survival language (wheres' the bathroom? thank you in three differing degrees of respect and such) and trying to learn about the cultural differences. I've never been so nervous about traveling. If it was just for pleasure, that's one thing - I'm fine with being labeled "stupid American." But this is business, and I need to impress, and I have no clue what to do. I was reading up on attire and I SOOO don't fit the mold for a businesswoman in Japan (no pants, always wear high collared shirts, ugh!). Crap. I have to go shopping.

I already had been initiated in Japanese business card rituals and gift giving, so feel ok there. But then there's the issue of addressing an audience of (I think) around 300 with a welcoming message from my organization. A Japanese translator will be standing to my side, translating as I speak. I've never done anything even close to that. What do I say? How fast or slow should I speak? How do I start?

And then there's my real source of anxiety about all this - both Jason and I traveling together on the other side of the world, so far away from the girls. I always stress a little with traveling away from them - what if something should happen? This takes that stress to a whole new level - usually I travel without Jason, which makes me feel secure that at least they'd still have one parent if something should happen to me. But now it's both of us. Even worse, what if we need to get back to them quickly? The fastest we could do so is on a 16 hour flight. I know they'll be in good hands while we're away, but I HATE leaving them. I dread it.

Wish me luck! I'll post pictures and fun stuff along the way, as Internet service is available. Also, coming soon, the horrors that were once my yard.

And, on a lighter note, I spent most of yesterday on a backhoe tearing out the shrubs in front of our house. It was fun, and definitely helped me get out some tension I'd been feeling lately. I found myself prowling the yard just looking for things to tear out or dig holes for.

Microwave science and the Big Easy

Last Sunday, my two staff members (my sister, K and employee/friend, A) loaded up the Expedition for a trip to New Orleans. The road trip would take about 16 hours each way, so they decided to start it off with a bang - by writing cute slogans about our clients on the back and sides of the truck to amuse passing motorists. We discovered that people who drive Prius' LOVE microwave science. Also, several truckers got a kick out of Maxwell's equation. Who knew?

Many hours later, we found ourselves having dinner in Newnan, GA. The waitresses all welcomed us with a resounding "Haaayyyyy!" each time we'd enter from our outdoor table to use the restroom. We stopped for the night in beautiful Greenville, AL, which boasted two empty drug stores, a WinDixie that didn't open until 10 a.m. on Mondays, the world's smallest WalMart and a white shack with a sign that said it was Bush's headquarters. Not surprising in the least. We frequently giggled at the names of the local Alabama sites... Shorter, Pine Apple (two words), as well as the "famous" Hank Williams shrine and, of course, roadkill armadillos. Sadly, the armadillos were the most exciting thing to see during that long stretch.

The second day on the road went quickly, and we were surprised to find ourselves amidst the devastation of Hurricane Katrina so far from New Orleans. The Mississippi coastline was littered with demolished warehouses, uninhabitable apartment complexes, still-tarped single family homes and what looked like grave yards of concrete slabs that used to support houses. I had heard of the destruction, realized we may see some of the aftermath, but never in a million years expected to see the level of devastation... especially three years after the hurricane had hit the area.

The destruction continued well into New Orleans, until we found ourselves close to the French Quarter, which had been spared from the storm's destruction, but was worse for the wear. A block from our hotel we observed pimps and prostitutes, looted storefronts, empty-eyed homeless and barely-standing low-cost housing. From the point where our hotel started (Bourbon/Canal/Iberville block), the area seemed to look more-or-less as I remembered it... dirty, colorful, smelly, loud and full of excitement. We dropped off our bags and headed into the Quarter, where I was dismayed to see teenage girls clustered outside of "gentlemen's" (ha!) clubs in broad daylight, barely clad, and even more disheartened to see some so clearly lost to this world. By the end of Bourbon Street I had thought the city was no longer worth a visit, but as we turned onto Royal Street, my heart began to patter with excitement at seeing my favorite artists' galleries still present, the smell of Cajun foods and the sights and sounds of one of the US's oldest and most authentic cities. Man, I love New Orleans.

We stopped by the Riverwalk for a hurricane and some fried onions and chatted with a local bartender who had lived all her life in New Orleans. When the hurricane hit, her family had invested 20 years of their 30-year mortgage into their home. They had flood insurance, thoughmost of her neighborhood did not as they were close to a levy (deemed by FEMA as safe, thus removing the requirement for homeowners insurers in the area to require flood coverage). The flood coverage paid out the last 10 years of her mortgage. Twenty years of investment, along with all personal valuables and belongings, were lost. And she felt like she was one of the lucky ones. They rebuilt, and stayed. Most of her neighborhood left, and she didn't think they'd ever be back. It made me stop for a moment, and thank my lucky stars for all I have.

The next day we woke early and scurried about getting ready for the symposium, board meetings and other "real" reasons we were there. By three we were free again for a few hours, and jumped aboard the St Charles trolley to the Garden District and Magazine. K and A were mesmerized by the overwhelming smells of jasmine and roses and the towering, century old crepe myrtles and twisted magnolias that hung over the streets. We enjoyed peeping into the gardens of the antebellum mansions and perused the LaFayette Cemetary #1 to check out the infamous above-ground vaults of the long-dead. On Magazine we found a Mexican dive and imbibed in a margarita and taco salad before heading back to get ready for an evening of riveting discussion at a board meeting for our microwave science group. The meeting was held at the Red Fish Grill, which was pretty good, but overly loud, slow and boasting obnoxious waiters who called you "sweetie" and "dear" while bustling about doing everything in the world to avoid actual service of the customers.

On Wednesday our conference started, and we enjoyed catching up with our favorite international scientists, technical sales folks and other greats in the field of electromagnetic energy. We developed a few new nicknames (our favorite pastime at these events) for some newly introduced characters (Cookie Monster, Dracula, the Mercenary, Milton), as well as some who had not yet been inducted into our nickname hall of fame (McGyver, Romanian Thong-Slinger, Dirty FrenchMan)... all while lamenting those that were missing this year from our list of favorites (WonkEye, YaccoBlech and BigHead).

Thursday brought another breathtaking day of discoveries in microwave energy applications, followed by an even more exciting private dinner cruise on the Mississippi River. I made the mistake of feeling sorry for K and A's lack of New Orleans experiences in the trip thus far, and let them off the hook from the event so that they could find their own trouble in the Quarter while I herded about two dozen scientists, researchers and their wives and children down the winding streets to the river. I laughed aloud at the thought of the blog entry I had hoped to write that night, devoted strictly to directing the group through five blocks. Herding cats, indeed. The group, however, were even more conversationally challenged than I could have imagined, and I was exhausted by the mental anguish I'd suffered during my four hours aboard the smoky, creaking boat and went straight to bed. Not to mention the stuff they tried to serve on board that they called a "Creole feast." I ate nothing but white rice and a roll. That good.

Friday was the last day of our event, and I had the girls packing before noon so that we could make an escape the minute the conference wrapped up. During our closing reception, I invited an acquaintance to join us for dinner, Dirty Frenchman overheard and invited himself, and then we decided to invite one more to make it an even number. We rushed to close the exhibit area, pack and get ready for our one night on the town. We wandered through the Quarter until our dinner reservations, which were set at 9:30 p.m. at Emerill LaGasse's NoLa restaurant. THAT was worth eating a week's worth of steamboat cruise crap to have. I had the shrimp and grits, and it was to DIE for.

Our company for the night was beyond entertaining. Our party was something one would use to begin a joke... "Three American girls went out with an Italian, a Canadian Frenchman and a guy from Omaha for dinner...". The Italian introduced us to the finer points of grappe (I could find no finer points, but was introduced none the less), and we enjoyed a stimulating conversation that covered everything taboo in normal gatherings - from religion to politics (I found this week that Europeans are enthralled with current US politics) to music to, well, we covered it all before being booted from the restaurant at midnight. We found ourselves wandering the streets of the Quarter the rest of the night, taking in some jazz and blues, and finally landed at our hotel's courtyard pool (where the Romanian thong-flinger made her debut). We were all sad when we finally had to call it quits at 5:30 a.m. to hit our beds for a few hours sleep before heading out the next morning on our respective return trips home. I can't remember the last time I've had so much fun - it's been at least a few years.


The next morning K, A and I loaded up the truck and headed out of the city. I was a bit worse for the wear that morning and drifted in and out of consciousness in back until we hit Alabama. The rest of our day was a lot of fun as we discussed and rediscussed our previous night, the new characters in our "play" and the sights, sounds and smells from their first trip to the Big Easy. In Atlanta we hit a major traffic jam, but we thoroughly enjoyed it as we blasted Neal Diamond's "Sweet Caroline" (much to the amusement of local Hotlantans), took pictures of a General Lee replica on I-85 and developed television plots based upon our new "characters" (e.g. The Microwave Mafia, Electromagnetic Survivor (6 microwave scientists stuck in a lab with no way out), and The Ultimate Warrior). We spent the night on the border of Georgia and South Carolina and found a real-live drivethru that the local teens actually hung out at. All in all, a good day of travel.

I wish I could say yesterday was as exciting, but we were done. We'd had all the fun we could possibly squeeze out of a scientific conference, Mad Libs and 20-Questions, and drove most of the remainder of the way in silence, trying to find a decent radio station since the CD player burned out in the truck. We were back home at 8 p.m. and K and A departed before the truck was even in Park. I was thrilled, however, to get back to my kids, both human and furry.

Next up... Japan. I'm excited, especially knowing now that some of my favorite characters from last week will be there (Romanian Thong-Slinger, Cookie Monster and more!).

On a side note, check out these awesome digs in Richmond for rent... what a bargain.

Why I'm frustrated with my career choice

This week I've attended over a dozen meetings for a handful of organizations, in person and via teleconference. And I only worked part-time most days.

I have enjoyed my career choice for years, but things are changing, fast. The issue with my job is that I have outdated organizations - stuck in beauracracy. They are lost to the impact millenials are already having on the need for collaborative identity of the organization (as opposed to old-school, board-dictated identity). I've mentioned the Obama campaign a dozen of times this week as an illustration of this change - how new technology (for example Web 2.0) is an indicator of major change in the world of nonprofits... in the way we communicate, in how people perceive an organization, and, most importantly, that the stakeholders of the organizations (whether they are consumers, members, leaders or volunteers) will define in their own way what an organization is, despite the leadership's best attempts to retain hierarchy and decide what is "best" for their flock. C'mon folks, get with the program already, before it's too late! Sheesh.

I was trying to soothe my aching head and jangled nerves tonight by diving into my favorite blogosphere spots when I came across this gem...

From a declassified CIA manual on Simple Sabotage, circa 1944, to create general interference with organizations:

• Insist on doing everything through “channels.” Never permit short-cuts to be taken in order to expedite decisions.
• Make “speeches.” Talk as frequently as possible and at great length. Illustrate your “points” by long anecdotes and accounts of per sonal experiences. Never hesitate to make a few appropriate “patriotic” comments.
• When possible, refer all matters to committees, for “further study and considera tion.” Attempt to make the committees as large as possible — never less than five.
• Bring up irrelevant issues as frequently as possible.
• Haggle over precise wordings of communications, minutes, resolutions.
• Refer back to matters decided upon at the last meeting and attempt to re-open the question of the advisability of that decision.
• Advocate “caution.” Be “reasonable” and urge your fellow-conferees to be “reason able” and avoid haste which might result in embarrassments or difficulties later on.
• Be worried about the propriety of any decision — raise the question of whether such action as is contemplated lies within the juris diction of the group or whether it might conflict with the policy of some higher echelon.

That so clearly sums up my meetings this week, and makes it official... the CIA is infiltrating my clients' leadership and governing structures, ready to sabotage my best attempts to lead them into a new era. Sabotage, I tell you!

Or, maybe I just need a vacation.

To SAHM or Not to SAHM

That is the question. When I became pregnant with Katie, I was working at a hospice in the Roanoke Valley. I commuted, on average, 45 minutes each way, so was gone from home approximately 11 hours a day. I knew that once Katie came, I did not want to be gone those long hours from my little one. Yet I knew I needed income. And I needed mental stimulation. Thankfully, the perfect solution came along, I landed a client, started a business and was up and running two months after giving birth to Katie with my ongoing career in nonprofit management. I had a good setup - I worked from home, could flex my hours anyway I chose (within reason) to coordinate with her schedule, had college kids watch her and went to school full time. I even bartended on the side for a few months to make ends meet.

When we relocated, I took the business with me. I was determined to add another full-time client so that I could add the support staff I needed. I enrolled Katie in preschool part-time, which gave me just enough time to work in the morning, plus an hour or two while she slept in the afternoon and a few late-night hours. My day was work and childcare, and I didn't know many people in our area, so began to feel very isolated and alone. I wondered if I'd made the right choice. That said, Katie was blossoming, and I'm thankful I stayed with the business. My client was doing well, which was also satisfying for me.

Two months before Sadie's impending arrival, I took on a new client. The client was in a lot of trouble, and I knew it would be a rough transitional period. I hoped to have the files in place, history reviewed, finances up to code and standards and the office in good order before I left. I hired an assistant, who caught on quickly and felt confident it would be OK. I may even be able to take a week or two off work with the baby came. Then all hell broke loose.

The week before Sadie's arrival, my new client was having some major issues. My older client was in the process of obtaining an international contract and revitalization. The timing of these major events couldn't be worse. Then Sadie arrived with unexpected complications. Luckily, I had her on Labor Day, so I was off work, as was Jason. She was diagnosed with her heart defect that night, and the following day I was at UVA with her, miles from home. Unfortunately, she was a week early, and I had a major meeting that day. So I conducted it while standing outside of the hospital. I worked that night once her stats stabilized. I worked almost every day in that hospital.

When we got home, I continued to work, through the sleepless nights of withdrawal, through the days of ceaseless crying. I had thought she'd nap twice a day or so, so that I could use the downtime to work, and then work in the evenings when the kids went to bed. We all know how that turned out. I began to think that working from home was a terrible choice. Months went by, without a break until almost one year after I had her, when I took a week off and only checked email once a day. As a small business owner, and executive director of one international and one national group, there's no such thing as unplugging.

Now I find myself in a dilemma. I'm not looking for outside work - I enjoy being able to spend some time with the kids, but also work. The problem is I have little to no time outside of work and children. I'm suffocating in the confines of our home. And, I feel like I have less quality time with the children than ever. My time with them during the days is spent driving, eating, running errands. We rarely have the opportunity to sit and play until the evening. I feel like a bad mom, and guilty that I can't spend more time with them. At the same time, I feel like a failure as a business professional because I'm hitting a major burnout and am ready for change. I'd love to take a year or so off and just be a stay at home mom (SAHM), but I can't... the series of financial misfortunes we've suffered since Sadie's arrival have taken their toll on our budget flexibility.

So, I've kind of been watching for something outside the home. Not really actively looking, just watching. I don't want to give up things like taking Katie to her first day of school, afternoon gossip about what happened on the playground, random tickle fights with Sadie when I run in from the office to use the restroom during the day. But at the same time I feel like a shadow of myself, a flower that doesn't get enough sun, one of those kind of analogies. I miss the adult world, the mental stimulation of face-to-face interaction with colleagues on a daily basis. We do play dates from time to time, but I find that I have less and less time for them as the demands of my job seem to increase monthly. In a nutshell, I'm at a breaking point.

Today I came across MY job. That dream job I've been thinking of for months now. The new direction I want to take my career in. And it's only minutes from my home. I'm considering applying, but I'm torn... could I still be there for my kids as much as I am now? Would it be more or less time with them? More importantly, would the time we spend together have more or less quality to it? Do I want to really change my life this drastically? Then there's the company the job is with... there are some ethical issues they have, yet this job would be, in part, rectifying some of the problems (it's a corporate social responsibility position). What to do? What to do?

This post is way too long... I'm just wondering from my online friends out there, what do you think? I guess I can always apply... there's a good possibility I might not even get a call back on it. But if I did, would I want it? Could I be a good mom when working outside the home? I know many moms do it, but could I? Would the kids suffer? I just don't know... but I do know it's time to start looking for a change in my life. I'm wilting and my roots are dry.

Looking forward to more fun in DC

Two weeks ago I had a business meeting in DC. I was to meet a lobbyist for the frozen foods industry (yes, I know, exciting, isn't it?). Luckily for me, this lobbyist had good taste and invited me to meet him at the Occidental for lunch. For those of you who are not familiar with DC, the Occidental is one of the nation's oldest restaurants, conveniently located next to the Capital. Congress was out, so we had most of the restaurant to ourselves, allowing us ample time to discuss the implications of the recent outbreaks of salmonella in microwave foods (yes, again, please contain your excitement).

A few minutes into our meeting, a gentleman walked into the restaurant with a shadow (bodygaurd) and waived at my friendly lobbyist. A few minutes later, introductions were made and the Secretary of Agriculture (who I called Mr. Secretary and who in turn told me to call him Chuck) joined us for lunch. Fancy schmancy. Of course I had nothing of interest to say, but he humored me by asking a few icebreakers before discussing the current issues facing agriculture with the lobbyist.

As I left the meeting, the maitre d' asked if I'd enjoyed my lunch (which was a small piece of salmon placed on pineapple and surrounded by clover... yum), and I replied I had. He then said he thought I'd made quite the impression on the Secretary, and that he hoped I would be back to visit often on business. He clearly had NO clue who I was.

I walked out of the restaurant into a 75 degree day in January. A homeless man smiled and waived (again, for those not familiar with DC, that is NOT normal). The valet whistled as he went to get my vehicle. The sun shone. And I wondered for a fleeting second what my life would have been like if I'd followed any number of different routes in my professional career.

As soon as I got into my vehicle, I got on the phone and headed toward 14th street. I was eager to tell of my newfound love of DC and famous encounter. I managed to get onto Constitutional Avenue before reality checked in. Reality this time came in the form of a friendly DC officer blaring his siren at me and flashing his lights. There was no where to turn off, and it was a two lane road, so I turned on my blinkers to acknowledge I saw him, slowed and moved to the right. His bullhorn blared that I should get off the road, so I drove some more, looking for a spot to pull off. His bullhorn blared again to stop immediately, I saw a spot on the side of the road, so I stopped and pulled onto cobblestone. Which just happened to be a national landmark. I received a ticket for talking on a cell phone (a $100 offense in DC), a written warning for not having an insurance card with me (I had only a card with my insurance ID that did not have a expiration date, which apparently is normally another $100 in DC) and a verbal warning about desecrating national monument property.

I had driven well past the road I would normally turn on, so kindly asked the officer (a little stump of a man with obviously low IQ and equally pitiful self esteem who thus needed to overreact to the situation) to point me toward the 14th street bridge. To which he replied, "I'm not from DC." Hellooooo... you're a traffic cop in DC!! Give me a break. So I wandered, luckily found my way to Arlington Cemetery and finally got onto 395. Ah, DC. You ARE what I remembered. For a moment you had me fooled, you wily district, you!

Tonight I'm back in NoVa (that's Northern Virginia, for you nonlocals), awaiting another trip into DC tomorrow for a conference on more microwave food safety issues. Needless to say I'm taking the Metro in this time. I can't wait for a homeless person to accost me, demanding that I purchase a used newspaper for $2. I will gladly oblige and bask in the dysfunctional city that is our nations capital.

More Tales of Woe during the TripFromHell

THURSDAY NIGHT
Katie develops croup. She coughs all night.

FRIDAY MORNING
Katie seems better. Sadie's measles are residing. All seems to be getting better.

FRIDAY AFTERNOON
Katie spikes a fever of 103. I start the Tylenol regimine, after being scolded by her pediatrician long-distance for (gasp) using cough medicine the previous night. Heaven forbid you use cough medicine when your kid coughs. Why is it the FDA is so quick to OK get-slim-quick drugs and life-risking birth control, yet all of a sudden all children's cough medicine, some of which has been used in some form for over 100 years, is now deemed terrible?! Someone please explain.

The night progresses, with Katie and Sadie alternating coughing/screaming fits all night. A few hours later it's morning.

SATURDAY
Katie is sick. Katie is very sick. She doesn't eat. She quits drinking around 7 pm. Her temp won't go below 101.

Sadie discovers that her molars are coming in. The measles are almost gone. Now it's just pain and crankiness.

Again, with the nightime routine. I don't even bother trying to sleep. I just sit in bed waiting for the next kid to cry. I do doze on a twin bed with Katie, awakening with a start to realize I've probably caught her bug since she's breathing in my face.

SUNDAY
We head to the emergency room at the Pediatrician's recommendation. Katie gets IVs for a few hours, and is sent home. She can't keep down water/anything still. She pukes all day, and all evening. Finally, at night she sleeps. The fever drops to 101 again.

MONDAY
Now I'm really behind in work. I worked until 2 am since both girls slept, then got up at 4:45 (after Sadie's wake up call at 3 for a bottle) thanks to good ol' daylight savings time. Katie slept through the night, and her fever got down to 99 by the morning... finally light on the horizon. She still won't drink, still has not eaten, and was still throwing up this morning. She hasn't thrown up since 3 though, and has taken about an ounce of water, so there's hope. Poor thing.

Tomorrow...

Off to the beach for my meeting. The kids are going still, with the in-laws, as I have no choice. I don't want to be hours away from Katie when she's so sick, but hate to move her to a hotel. Wish us luck...

PS - Tally on Panera coffee thus far... 8 large cups.

AAAAAAaaarggh (stress).

To all who have asked why I haven't blogged lately, here's a little taste of my last 3 weeks:
- worked an average of 10 hours per day
- had only 5-6 hours of child care help, maybe 3-4 days a week (a couple of times I had 8 hours). You do the math with how that works with the number of hours I work. Basically means I work all night, and get 4-5 hours sleep - MAX. Most nights much less.
- I'm behind in all of my work, so much so that there's no end in sight for at least 3 weeks... IF I continue this pace!
- Vancouver convention (that I planned and run) is about a week away. Yikes!

Yeah, so that's why I'm not blogging as much as I'd like. The girls are great - Katie's back in the second session of ballet, and Sadie's finally decided to crawl a bit. Jason's trying to stay out of the line of fire, as I'm not a pleasant person most days. Sorry, Jas.

Insurance battles have begun again, and I'm pretty discouraged by what the final verdict is looking like - we lose. At least it's not the initially insurmountable sum from the early days they said we'd have to pay. All the same, I'm still battling them and hoping something will give on their end.

All round, life here is blah and work. Thankfully the girls break up the monotony with their funny antics, giggles and snuggles, otherwise I'd go insane!

Herding Cats

Ever been on a preschool field trip? If not, I don't recommend trying it. Katie's class took off to the science museum today, and by the end of it, I was ready for a really stiff drink (this was at noon). It's bad enough trying to coordinate the efforts of preschoolers to do anything, but then to have a teacher who has no clue how to handle children in public places... total nightmare.

It started off by children wandering throughout the "holding area" of the museum. They ran, jumped, slid, slithered and hopped about, waiting for the fun to begin. As I don't know many of the parents, I didn't say anything, just observed. Then we went to the IMAX where the lights were all turned out so that the kids could watch a movie about stars. GREAT idea for preschoolers. Katie lead the crowd in the wailing that soon ensued.

After seeing one of Katie's classmates walking with a group of adults I did not recognize, I finally hit the roof and cornered Katie's teacher and insisted that she create a "buddy" system with the parents and kids so that no one got forgotten/lost/kidnapped. I mean, seriously, this is not rocket science. If Katie weren't learning by leaps and bounds daily, I would have dropped her enrollment right then and there. Lesson learned - never let Katie go on a field trip with this class unless I'm there. Also, avoid all field trips until she turns about 12.

In other fun news over the past week or two, my "office manager" Becky resigned last week. Her last day is Friday, so I'm stressing a bit. Kerinda (my sister) is going to take her place and work for me, which should be interesting. I know Kerinda will do a great job, I just worry about the business interractions of hiring my baby sister, especially since I actually WILL be the "boss of her" for a change.

I also hired a part-time editorial assistant who is wonderful and a quick learner. The only problem is that she's all of 23 or so. We were talking about music last week, and she told me she liked "the old 90's alternative stuff... like Soundgarden and Pearl Jam." Ahem. Excuse me. Barely a decade has past since it came out. That is NOT old!!! Sheesh. She's also a sweet, bubbly, happy, single, no-kids type. It just makes me cringe.

It's great to have a fresh start to the office, though, and I hope that in a couple of months I can get my association management company certified. Which will lead to another full-time client, I hope. It would be great to have an actual office and a couple more staff on board by next year. I'm finally comfortable and ready to make the business grow, but want to hold out until Sadie's a bit older. I figure that by 2 1/2, if Sadie's anything like Katie, she'll be ready for preschool part time. Hopefully by then, if we're still at this preschool, the basic principles of safety in public places will be mastered.