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Hybrid Thoughts

3/30/2006

Lonely Weekend

So my husband is going for another one of his Jeep trips Friday morning. Supposedly a chance for me to do what I like. So why do I feel so lonely and sad? Why do I feel so depressed without friends? I hate being alone. I love people. I love going out with friends. I can't stand to stay in the house alone (especially with the last memory of his Jeep trip and the house break-in that same morning).

If I were in Israel now, I'd be out visiting my friends throughout the weekend. Or they'd be visiting me. But here, I'm so alone. Everyone I know is an hour away or more. No one is walking distance from my house. No one is a short drive away. I've hated living like this since day one in the U.S. Hate it with a passion.

And now I have an entire weekend to feel it more pronounced.

This week has been particularly difficult for me to be away from my Israeli friends. (Yes, there'll be a separate post about the Israeli elections, once I feel up to it). I called all of them this week. Including my best friend who once had a crush on me (and never told me). We had a beginning of a good conversation. We should have had this talk years ago. But neither of us were brave enough or mature enough to discuss it. We're slowly passing that threshhold and re-learning our friendship.

This weekend is going to suck! I can't wait for it to be over.

Moving Out and Moving In

This ends our first week in a new office. From being in the suburbs of Washington D.C. on the eighth floor, we've moved to the middle of D.C. a couple of blocks away from the white house and where this excitement happens outside our office window when someone is fired at the White House:

Create your own video at One True Media

This is the office we left...


And this is where we moved to...


From this view in my previous cubicle....to this view.....

Two weeks ago I could only see the bad and the negative about this move and the changes in my life. It's tough hanging on to something you're used to and being forced to let go without having a say in the matter. It's tough to forget the good memories and move on.

Meanwhile, I'm getting to know my new environment, making new friends, and yes, making new enemies, too.

One day at a time.

Todah La'el Hayom Yom Shishi!

3/24/2006

This is about Racism

After spending three weeks in Australia I realised what I really loved about that country. There are no racial tensions among the people. While the Aboriginals may have not received equal treatment until very recently, the Australian nation is making efforts at correcting this. Every so often, you hear some stereotypical opinions of the Aboriginals, but these are the type of stereotypes based on truths. Aboriginals are known to go on 'walkabouts.' They don't last long in a job. They like change. They move. That's just who they are. I saw far more respect for their culture, art and music than any other nation with a minority. There are museums all over Australia of Aboriginal art. There are shops selling aboriginal art and music.

The only comparison I can make with America is the native Indians. Indians today receive far more respect than any other minority that lives in America. That's my perception at least. While the blacks, no matter what their origin may be (African or born in the America for the past eight generations), receive no such respect.


Why am I bringing this up? Because a friend of mine, a black guy (and no, he's not an African-American, he's an immigrant from an African country), noticed a printed piece of paper that was anonymously placed in a common area at his workplace, in the US.

Now, in his office there are only two immigrants - himself and another one from Europe.

When you read what the printed paper, I'm hoping you will all be as appalled as I was at this outrageous show of racism in the workplace in the US. This really bothers me that in a country supposedly based on equal right and equal treatment for all humans, that immigrants and particularly blacks get treated as second class citizens. What really shocked me is that someone would do this to my friend who comes across far more intelligent and smart than any American I've ever met!

On a personal level I was upset at the reference to immigrants, as if we're all second level citizens in this country. We may contribute far more to this country than some slacker getting unemployment paychecks, and we may be paying our taxes, volunteering in the community, giving to charity - but no, we're not good enough for this President. We're just second hand citizens who should not be treated as equals.

You know what, if a celebrity makes a statement it doesn't make it right! Especially if it's a President. Your American presidents are just as opinionated as any asshole on the street. Their only qualification to be in their job is - they were luck enough to be born in the US. There is no other qualification from them - no degree requirement, no intelligence test, no IQ test, no social test. Yet, for some reason people believe that if a President says something it must be true.

So for all you racists out there - you're just a bunch of mindless followers who think that if President Roosevelt or President Nixon said it - then it carries weight. It's a pity you're too stupid to even understand how wrong you are in your judgement of others. I don't expect you to change. I don't expect you to even understand what is wrong with racism. Assholes remain assholes for life. I'm just upset I have to share this country with you.

This is what was printed on the paper:



"In the first place we should insist that if the immigrant who comes here in good faith becomes an American and assimilates himself to us, he shall be treated on an exact equality with everyone else, for it is an outrage to discriminate against any such man because of creed, or birthplace, or origin.
But this is predicated upon the man's becoming in very fact an American and nothing but an American...There can be no divided allegiance here. Any man who says he is an American, but something else also, isn't an American at all. We have room for but one flag, the American flag, and this excludes the red flag, which symbolizes all wars against liberty and civilization, just as much as it excludes any foreign flag of a nation to which we are hostile...We have room for but one language here, and that is the English language...and we have room for but one sole loyalty and that is a loyalty to the American people."
"The one absolutely certain way of bringing this nation to ruin, or preventing all possibility of its continuing as a nation at all, would be to permit it to become a tangle of squabbling nationalities." "A perfectly stupid race can never rise to a very high place. The Negro, for instance, has been kept down as much by his lack of intellectual development as by anything else."
-Theodore Roosevelt


Todah La'El Hayom Yom Shishi

3/22/2006

The Australian Language

I'm slowly recovering from my trip of a lifetime and will begin posting tidbits about my trip. This first post is about the language in Australia.

Well, it's Englishie. All nouns in Australia have the suffix “ie.” Or in other words, if it has “ie” at the end, it came from Australia. Barbie (barbq), bikies (motorcyclists), blowies (no, it's not what you think! It's large flies), sickie (day off work ill), postie (mailman), rellie (relatives) and so on. It becomes rather entertaining after three weeks when you still discover new words with the suffix 'ie'. It's as if all Australians engage in baby talk. Very adorable.

Of course there are a lot of other terms that had us baffled and we were forced to pay attention or hide our shock when we heard some words.

Swimmers – these aren’t people. These are the things you wear when you go swimming.

And then there's the seven year old who was getting prepared to go out with us on a Catamaran sail. As my husband and I were standing in the kitchen talking to my relatives, she came to us and proudly announced, "I'm wearing thongs today!" My husband looked at me, I looked at him, then we both looked at her mother thinking, "What type of a mother ARE you encouraging your daughter to wear thongs at such an age???" But we kept our mouths shut. And a good thing we did, because shortly thereafter the eleven year old and thirteen year old boys announced the same! This is when we had a quizzical look on our faces. Thank dog, one of them was actually demonstrating where his thongs were. You could have heard the huge sigh of relief from my husband and I as we looked at him waving his flip-flops in the air.

When we went out shopping one day we saw a funny shirt with a saying on it that seemed fit to get for my best friend and her husband of New Zealand. We went back home and told our relative about the shirt because we thought it was very funny. As my husband tried to recall the print on the shirt, he told my 80+ old relative that it said, "I root for two teams: The Wallabies and any team that plays against the All Blacks." (This is in reference to the rugby teams from Australia and New Zealand). As soon as my husband said that, my relative frowned, crossed her arms and shook her head saying, "We DON'T USE THIS LANGUAGE IN THIS HOUSE! I'm very surprised they had this shirt for sale there!!!" My husband and I were shocked to say the least. I looked at him, he looked at me. So gently I said, "All Blacks?" She shook her head and said, "No." Feeling confused I said, "Wallabies?" Again she shook her head and said, "No. And don't make me use that word! You KNOW what I'm talking about." I was totally clueless at this point and decided to ask her sons later that evening instead. I continued to talk to her, as my husband went to our room and looked through our tourist guide (thank dog for Lonely Planet!). He returned to the room and slid the book under my nose pointing to the dictionary and there it was...

Root - Having sexual intercourse.

Yes, we had quite a bit of fun since we've learned this Australian word. And her sons had quite a good laugh when we told them about this embarrassing moment with their mom.

We won't be rooting for anyone older than 80 anymore!

After telling a friend about this last story, she wrote back:
That was one of my favorite lines from the Melbourne bid for Worldcon in 1999. Clueless Americans would come up to the Aussie support table and say, "We're rooting for you to win!" and the Australians would blink, look a bit surprised, and say something like, "Really, that's more effort than is necessary. A $10 pre-support will be enough."

3/21/2006

Lost and Found

I hardly ever lose anything. Misplace - sometimes, but not outright lose it where I never find it again. In my entire life I recall only a handful of occasions where I've lost something. When I was 9 years old on a three day train ride to Camp I somehow managed to lose my hat. I think it was an orange hat. I was probably supposed to lose it anyway, but the memory of losing my first item ever kinda traumatized me until I was 13 and lost my favourite Parker pen.

I recall putting it in my pocket and heading home. By the time I reached home it was no longer in my pocket. I walked back and searched the entire street and couldn't find it. My mom and brother weren't home, so I waited for them. For an hour. When they got home, that's when I started crying about my lost pen. I recall my brother laughing at me for waiting all this time without crying and starting to cry only when they got home. At the time I didn't think it made sense to cry alone because there was no one there to give me sympathy.

A year later I had lost a necklace in the swimming pool. It was given to me by my grandmother. It had my initial inside a shell made of gold. Beautiful design. Only problem - it wasn't the way I spelt my name. So it wasn't a huge loss for me, because I wasn't too proud to walk around with a Polish initial of my name.

I don't recall losing anything for a couple of decades later. I learned my lesson I suppose.

Then it happened - a trip to London two months ago (on the way to Australia). As I was sitting on one of those around-the-city tour busses, and being rushed by my dad to switch busses mid-route, I had lost my hat. It was in my coat's pocket. My dad was angry with me for losing it, but I've learned that some things are just not worth crying over, especially if they're replaceable.
All day long I told my mom to look around for people wearing my hat, maybe we'll find it. Then it happened - a day later, my mom lost her scarf. So now both of us were looking for someone wearing my hat and my mom's scarf. Never found the person.

I carried on to Australia, spent three weeks there, and returned through London. In between the hoppa bus from Heathrow airport to the hotel I managed to lose one glove.

So now there's someone out there in London wearing my hat, my mother's scarf and one of my gloves.

If anyone sees the person, please find out where they live so I can mail them my other glove.

3/20/2006

Change of Place Change of Luck

I've been married to an unemployed man this weekend. Today he begins a new job (after quitting his last one, where he worked for the past nine years). Funnily enough, on Friday both of us spent the afternoon packing all our personal belongings in our respective offices. While my husband started a new job today, I move to a new office next Monday.

My husband's new job is in the same place, same people, just different person who signs his paychecks. It'll be George W. Bush signing his checks this time. Yup, I'm now married to a govie. Those slackers who we all make fun of in the D.C. area. I just hope he won't turn into one. He's actually made this move because he's gotten tired of fixing all the problems and decided he can make a difference from within the system and work at prevention rather than reaction. So if there's anyone out there who thinks all govies are the same - not true.

Yesterday he spent half his paycheck on buying slacks, shirts, jackets and ties. This morning he seemed as excited as a kid going to his first day in school. All dressed up in a suit and tie, and new shoes, and...a Marvin the Martian pen stuck in the pocket of his shirt - because every grown man of 40+ must have one!

As of next week we'll both have a longer commute to work and may have to consider moving from our house of ten years. If only it was realistic to move from one house to a more expensive house, with the house market these days. Though it may turn out to be a bit easier considering we're looking for something not very common in the U.S. - a ONE floor house. Neither of us can stand the multiple floor houses, and we were absolutely in love with Australian architecture thriving on the one floor houses. We envy the Australians for it.

Speaking of Australia - during my husband's one day unemployment he spent it looking for jobs in Australia! This may just be his shortest employment yet if he decides to move within a year.

I just thought of something - there are probably thousands of people today starting a new job this morning. Well, I wish you all a wonderful day today and may this turn out to be the job of your lifetime!

Wow, what a day to start the Spring!!!

Happy Spring everyone.

3/17/2006

Happy St. Patrick's Day

To my Irish friends, Irish descendents, and friends of the Irish - I wish you all

Happy St. Patrick's Day!



Todah La'el Hayom Yom Shishi!

3/15/2006

It's party time!

Yesterday and today was our Jewish holiday of Purim. If you're familiar with the Book of Esther, then that's what this holiday is all about.

For those who like drinking, this is THE holiday. You are required to drink until you are drunk enough where you cannot tell right from wrong. For those among you who are too lazy to click on the link above, here's the exact extent of your drinking allowed on this holiday:

We are also commanded to eat, drink and be merry. According to the Talmud, a person is required to drink until he cannot tell the difference between "cursed be Haman" and "blessed be Mordecai," though opinions differ as to exactly how drunk that is. A person certainly should not become so drunk that he might violate other commandments or get seriously ill. In addition, recovering alcoholics or others who might suffer serious harm from alcohol are exempt from this obligation.

This is a particularly fun holiday for kids because they put on costumes for three days and go to parties and parades in town.

I decided to share with you some family photos of my crazy family and what they decided to wear this holiday. So here's my sister-in-law dressed as an angel, and my three favourite kids in the entire world!!!


The youngest boy, 10, dressed here as a Scottish girl is the most popular kid in class, so he can afford to dress up like this, knowing it'll get everyone laughing so hard they'll be booking tickets to Scotland next week.
My beautiful niece who has all her costumes made by my father, asked him this year to make something for MISS FRANCE. So he did.
Yes, that sash says "Miss Baggeutte" and that's what she's holding in her hand.

In our usual tradition of celebrating Jewish holidays according to the motto "We fought, we won, let's eat" I need to explain the food of the holiday called Hamentashen in Yiddish, but called Ozney Haman in Hebrew. The link above gives you the explanation:

Among Ashkenazic Jews, a common treat at this time of year is hamentaschen (lit. Haman's pockets). These triangular fruit-filled cookies are supposed to represent Haman's three-cornered hat.

Ok, this isn't completely correct. Yes, it's triangular and fruit filled (poppy seeds are traditional filling!), but it most definitely does not represent Haman's hat! In fact, the literal translation of what this food below is called is - Haman's ears! And I don't need to explain to you what the black poppy seeds represent. Over on the right side you will see the store bought poppy seed filled Hamentashen. On the left is what they SHOULD look like and what they typically look like in Israeli stores.

I wish there was a way to send everyone a taste of these hamentashen's over my blog. You'll just have to count on me to believe it's very good and children love it!

I really miss being back home now. It's the most joyous of all holidays and it's so much fun to see everyone dressed up in costumes and enjoy life. And here I am stuck at work where no one cares it's a Jewish holiday today.

3/09/2006

I miss my country

Besides the fun of being back home while the elections are taking place and all the funny ads are shown on television, I found another story that could only happen in Israel.

Back when we were kids there was a popular game in school called Dwarves and Giants. Each kid could be a dwarf and a giant at the same time. The dwarf's role was to secretly give a present to the "Giant" he/she were assigned to. The present was supposed to be something very small and not of a large monetary value. The purpose was only to show that someone cares. It was a cool game because even those that hate giving, when they received something they got into the spirit of giving as well. And some gifts were funny and cute.

So there's a new trend in some neighbourhoods in Israel around this time of the year (close to Purim*) to play this game among the adults. The committee overseeing the neighbourhood picks who's the dwarves and giants for whom, and ...let the games begin. So some neighbours find outside their door homemade cookies, or something small for the house. And even those who didn't plan on giving anything, when they receive something they do eventually decide to get something after all. The people playing find it kind of fun to leave work and wonder on their way home what they'll find at their doorstep. Sometimes there are disappointments, but sometimes it's a nice pleasant surprise. And at the end of Purim, they hold a party and discover the identity of all dwarves.

I miss this playfullness in my country. The environment of giving just for fun. The environment of not paying a lot of money for a present but rather putting some thought into something small and not expensive. The atmosphere of - we're all in this together and we're never alone. A game like this will never succeed where I live. People just don't care to participate in anything, and if there's any time or money involved there's always someone who'll oppose it and start a petition.

I miss being a kid with that naiive feeling of everyone is my friend - I should be nice to everyone. I miss being on that receiving end of it.

** There's a tradition on Purim called "Mishlo'ach Manot" where we give food to our friends or poor people. Nothing huge. Just something symbolic to say we care.

Recommended Classes for Men

I saw this email and thought it was cute enough to repost. Instead of forwarding jokes to others, I've decided to post here what makes me smile. No, it's not going to be a regular thing. Just when I'm out of time to post something new.

SUMMER CLASSES FOR MEN AT THE LEARNING CENTER FOR ADULTS

REGISTRATION MUST BE COMPLETED BY Monday, July 17, 2006

NOTE: DUE TO THE COMPLEXITY AND DIFFICULTY LEVEL OF THEIR CONTENTS, CLASS SIZES WILL BE LIMITED TO 8 PARTICIPANTS MAXIMUM.

Class 1 How To Fill Up The Ice Cube Trays --- Step by Step, with Slide Presentation. Meets 4 weeks, Monday and Wednesday for 2 hours beginning at 7:00 PM.

Class 2 The Toilet Paper Roll --- Does It Change Itself? Round Table Discussion. Meets 2 weeks, Saturday 12:00 for 2 hours.

Class 3 Is It Possible To Urinate Using The Technique Of Lifting The Seat and Avoiding The Floor, Walls and Nearby Bathtub? --- Group Practice. Meets 4 weeks, Saturday 10:00 PM for 2 hours.

Class 4 Fundamental Differences Between The Laundry Hamper and The Floor --- Pictures and Explanatory Graphics. Meets Saturdays at 2:00 PM for 3 weeks.

Class 5 After Dinner Dishes --- Can They Levitate and Fly Into The Kitchen Sink? Examples on Video. Meets 4 weeks, Tuesday and Thursday for 2 hours beginning at 7:00 PM

Class 6 Loss Of Identity --- Losing The Remote To Your Significant Other. Help Line Support and Support Groups. Meets 4 Weeks, Friday and Sunday 7:00 PM

Class 7 Learning How To Find Things --- Starting With Looking In The Right Places And Not Turning The House Upside Down While Screaming. Open Forum . Monday at 8:00 PM, 2 hours.

Class 8 Health Watch --- Bringing Her Flowers Is Not Harmful To Your Health. Graphics and Audio Tapes. Three nights; Monday, Wednesday, Friday at 7:00 PM for 2 hours.

Class 9 Real Men Ask For Directions When Lost --- Real Life Testimonials. Tuesdays at 6:00 PM Location to be determined.

Class 10 Is It Genetically Impossible To Sit Quietly While She Parallel Parks? Driving Simulations. 4 weeks, Saturday's noon, 2 hours.

Class 11 Learning to Live --- Basic Differences Between Mother and Wife. Online Classes and role-playing . Tuesdays at 7:00 PM, location to be determined

Class 12 How to be the Ideal Shopping Companion Relaxation Exercises, Meditation and Breathing Techniques. Meets 4 weeks, Tuesday and Thursday for 2 hours beginning at 7:00 PM.

Class 13 How to Fight Cerebral Atrophy
Remembering Birthdays, Anniversaries and Other Important Dates
and Calling When You're Going To Be Late. Cerebral Shock Therapy Sessions and Full Lobotomies Offered. Three nights; Monday, Wednesday, Friday at 7:00 PM for 2 hours.


Class 14 The Stove/Oven --- What It Is and How It Is Used. Live Demonstration. Tuesdays at 6:00 PM, location to be determined.

Upon completion of any of the above courses, diplomas will be issued to the survivors.

3/08/2006

Blogging Commitment

I've come to realise that blogging is a serious commitment of time and effort. If I want to get more people to read my blog, the only way to do so is put an effort and comment on other people's blog. I would have loved to do that, but with work getting in the way and my new oriented laptop I can't surf much. But there are a handful of blogs I enjoy checking daily. I can't always comment because of different personal reasons, but that doesn't mean I don't have anything to say.

One of my favourite blogs to read is Mel's (of course, who doesn't like her blog?!). And after yesterday's post I think I'm jealous of her marriage/divorce deal. Me thinks it may be a good idea to divorce my husband if it results in the type of communication that Mel has with her husband.

I can't email my husband at work (he works for DHS and he's not as comfortable with personal emails I suppose), but I can text message him on the cellphone. Only problem - there's a 250 character limit on messages, so the type of list Mel sent her husband would have had to be severly condensed, which of course would take all the suspense out of it. "Going to call insrnce 2day; out drnkng; dr appt; suck ur cck" - there's a lot to be desired in a message so short of vowels.

So until I figure out an original way to send explicit messages to my husband I'll have to read other people's blogs for ideas. Or I could just ask my wonderful audience of 2.5 people to give me some suggestions...

3/06/2006

And the winner is...

So last night was the first time in over a decade that I've watched the Oscars from beginning 'til end. In honor of Southerngirl and her crush on Jon Stewart I watched it all. Commercials included!

This was also the first year in my life that I've seen more than 2 movies in the theatre. In fact I can think of at least five movies I saw this year, which is VERY unusual for me. Like all the other sheep, I rooted for Brokeback Mountain and was disappointed it didn't win, but I hear that Crash is a very good movie, too. So maybe I will watch it on DVD.

Of course I was particularly happy that George Clooney won his Oscar since I got to kiss him ten days ago in London.

My favourite act in the Oscars were Lily Tomlin and Meryl Streep. They had me laughing throughout their introduction speech.

Surprisingly, as much as I hate rap music, I really loved Three 6 Mafia's "It's Hard Out Here for a Pimp." I'm glad they won, it was nice to see all that young enthusiasm truly appreciative of such a great award.

I won't comment on fashion and winners and losers since I really don't know all that much about the movie industry to make these comments. I'll leave that to the experts or those with an opinion.

But I definitely enjoyed watching Jon Stewart and the Oscars last night.

3/03/2006

Romance is overrated?

Breaking News: My stolen purse has been found. While on vacation I received a message on my phone at work from the State Highway Administration. Their crew found my purse on an exit ramp thrown on the ground. I picked it up from their office yesterday. It's all soggy and the contents are filled with mold. But all my credit cards, driver's license, and some other cards were in there. So that is some relief to get a closure on this robbery. I'm also happy that I recovered all the congressmen's and senators' business cards which were in my purse because I had attended the event on Capitol Hill the week before. So yeah, they look all nasty with mold, but at least the evidence is there.

Yesterday I met my husband at the mall to grab something to eat (we drove in separate cars). As we were eating, I looked on the wall and there was a nice black and white photo of a couple kissing. So I pointed it out to him telling him how romantic that is. He brushed it off saying, "Romance is overrated." Had I known this before we got married, I'd have given our marriage a second thought. Yes, he's a wonderful guy, and I know he loves me, but it'd be nice to have some romantic and passionate moments in my life and not just live with a "best friend."

During dinner he told me about his friend at work (a man in his 40's) who took a business trip to Texas and was pulled over for speeding. The guy said he must have been doing 110mph on an off-ramp and the policeman was especially nice ticketing him for only going 81mph in a 65mph zone. He told my husband he was so grateful to this policeman he was ready to blow him right there and then if he only whipped it out. Our dinner conversations are getting interesting by the day.

When we finished dinner we took a brief walk at the mall and entered the bookstore. I pointed out a book up front - "Sex for Dummies" - and jokingly said, "I wonder what's in that book?" His response: "It probably says, 'insert tab A into slot B. Repeat.'" Yup, I can see why he'd think romance is overrated.

I did look in the book and saw a chapter called "Sex after 60." I told my husband about it later. He mumbled something about it's not for us. Told him it's probably about sex after 60 times.

When we left the mall, in an effort to bring back romance to our marriage, I asked my husband to walk me to the car (his was parked two rows away). So he reluctantly obliged and walked me to the car, gets to it ahead of me, touches it with his stretched arm, and walks away towards his car. I called back after him and asked him about that partying kiss. He walked back, and kissed my car!

Nitwit!

Todah La'el Hayom Yom Shishi!

3/01/2006

A Bad Joke and a Good Joke

One would think that with my extensive flights to Israel and back I'd learn the lesson of jet lag, but apparently, I'm not that smart. After a 23 hour flight from Sydney to London (minus 40 minute stop in Singapore), I slept five hours at a hotel near the Heathrow airport (worst airport I've ever been through!), and then tried to sleep on the 7 hour flight from London to the U.S. with minor success. Our flight left London an hour and a half later than scheduled due to debris left on the tarmac from a previous landing (the plane apparently exploded a tire during landing). This caused us a half hour delay landing in the U.S. By the time we landed and after the two days of being on a plane, not only was I jet lagged and confused about which continent I was on, but was not ready for what was about to happen.

I got off the plane, passport in hand, excited about getting closer to bed with every minute that passes, handed my passport to the immigration officer - all smiley and cheerful, and then it happens. He gets up, takes the passport and says "follow me, Ma'am." As everyone's eyes watching me behind, I felt embarrassed and annoyed. I followed the officer to a waiting room where four other people (non-American) were sitting and waiting. There was no other officer there. My passport was placed behind the desk and I was told to sit and wait. For twenty minutes I sat there feeling annoyed, angry, and scared about what on earth could have happened that they decided to detain me and confiscate my passport. Meanwhile, my husband was outside waiting, sending me text messages on the phone worried about me.

After 10 minutes an officer comes in takes my passport to a back room, and comes out after ten minutes. He asked me one simple question - "when did you return your previous green card?" and then returned my passport. Apparently, due to a clerical error in the Baltimore immigration offices, they forgot to enter into the computer that I returned my previous green card (a very bad practical joke to play on a person, in my opinion!). I was SO pissed when I came out of that office. I found my bag, waiting on the belt with four other bags. Grabbed it and headed towards the Customs officer. Apparently, it's been a slow day for him and he was bored stiff so he sent me to the Agricultural department x-ray check. So I drag myself to the end of the hall, about to scream someone's head off. The guy asks me if I brought any food with me, so I admit to having Kangaroo jerky in my bag. He didn't seem amused and asked me to show him. At this point I'm really annoyed at having to open my bags, find the jerky and show him it's still sealed. He finally lets me go and asks me to put all my bags on the x-ray machine.

By the time I was out of that freaking airport I let out all the steam straight at my husband. Poor soul. Of course what annoyed me even further is that starting next month he'll be working for the Department of Homeland Security, which means I take him personally responsible for all the beaurocracy I have to go through as a foreigner in his country.

Monday I came in to the office rather early, still jet lagged, when I noticed something odd about my cubicle. My chair was placed upside down on my table. So I figured someone needed to clean under the table so they put it on top. Then I noticed my phone was in the wrong place, so I figured someone used my space while I was gone. I felt like Goldilocks and the three bears. It took me about a minute to finally notice that I've been flipped! My goofy coworkers decided that after all the practical jokes I've played on other co-workers, it was my turn. They descended upon my cubicle and flipped it 180 degrees. Everything that was on the left side was placed on the right side and vice versa - all my bookshelves, posters, photos, phone, cables - everything! When I realised this I had a very good laugh! They definitely got me. So I now have zero privacy because my computer's location was flipped and the cabinet that was hiding me was relocated, too. I can no longer write in my blog or check other blogs during the day because anyone can see what I'm doing. On my second day back at work I noticed that one postcard was placed upside down. I'm wondering when I'm going to get over this jet lag and find out everything they've done to my cubicle.


Gee, thanks!

I love my co-workers, I love my co-workers, I love my co-workers.

And here are the photos of my flipped cubicle. Since I do not have good photos of the original setup, I figured I'd flip it on the computer just to give you an idea what my "wonderful" coworkers did. The photo on the left is the original configuraion of my cubicle. The photo on the right is what I came back to.