The “Fall” in “Falls Church”

This week, the first I’ve ever worn suits on a consistent basis, was incredibly humid. And I say this as a Florida native, so I know what I’m talking about.

Right now, I am in training, so we’re hearing from a lot of higher-up people for whom you have to look sharp, which mandates suits. I’m trying to get used to them but boy, with the humidity, it’s just toasty. Sitting in a seminar, I have several times realized suddenly that my neck is sweating. I do not look forward at my first foray into dry cleaner bills, but that is right around the corner. (Actually, it’s straight out the door, on the other side of the tennis courts. This apartment complex has everything.)

But it seems the hot and humid weather might be done now. I woke up this morning, the day of FSU’s first home game, and it’s suddenly fall. The air is crisp and it’s wonderfully gorgeous.

That’s really great news and made a pleasant walk through my area of Falls Church down to Target early this afternoon, especially since I tried a new route and got lost. I mean, I sort of knew the right direction, but I was wandering through a nice little neighborhood and wasn’t really clear on which roads went all the way through.

The news isn’t so good for my footwear, because I brought exactly five pairs of shoes: three of dress shoes and two pairs of Chacos, one of those flip flops.

Next week, my class group will get split and we will each take have a “teamwork” day that requires close-toed shoes that are OK to get messy, as in not dress shoes.

This is irritating, because it’s not like I do not own tennis shoes; I just don’t have them with me. They are packed in my air shipment, which could have arrived last week (thought they didn’t), could arrive tomorrow and maybe arrive Sunday – but may not arrive until after my six-week training session is over.

Therefore tomorrow I will have to go out and buy a new pair of tennis shoes.

This brings up a kind of an us-vs.-them mentality as far as what are considered “local hires” and the rest of us. These are people who live with 50 miles of the Washington Monument. Those of us who are from farther away are given a housing/meals per diem, the local hires are not. They get some kind of transportation allowance instead, but no cold, hard cash. (For the record, I haven’t gotten the cash yet, but it will come in a paycheck that will not arrive until 10/3 or 10/17).

The per diem is supposed to offset the fact that the non-local hires (maybe there’s a technical term, but I don’t know it) do not get to sleep in their own beds. It annoys the local hires, because they sometimes have multiple-hour commutes to training.

However, my heart doesn’t exactly bleed for them, because as a non-local hire, I have to shell out a lot of money for things that I already own but do not have with me.

It’s getting to be a little ridiculous. I have an air shipment on its way to me, and in addition to shoes it also has petty things like salt and pepper. And while I understand salt and pepper are cheap, there’s also a waste issue. What am I going to do with multiple salt and pepper containers when I leave in six weeks? Do I pack it or just toss it?

I have things like laundry baskets, key chains, scissors, pitchers, umbrellas, rain jackets and coats but they have not arrived yet. So do I just replace them and add to the landfill problem in two months, or what? Because, let’s get realistic, there’s not a big demand for used plastic ice trays, something I could really, really use right now.

This morning, I needed an envelope. Not 500 or even 50 of them, but just one. You can’t buy just one envelope, just like you can’t easily find a small thing of laundry soap, dish soap, shampoo or anything else these days. I have about a gallon of shampoo on its way up here, but it’s not here yet, so I was forced to go out and buy yet another container.

It’s a first-world problem, for sure, but I just hate to waste things so it really kills me to have to do this.

Beyond annoyance and landfill issues, it’s also a cost thing. I just hate to shell out money for something I don’t really need, and right now, since my first check won’t be until October, it’s still a little dicey. I’ve already been to Target three times. It doesn’t matter that the prices of the stuff I need aren’t really expensive (at least the way I shop), but when you have to re-establish yourself with so many things, those little numbers are going to add up.

A Whole New World

I’ve made it to DC and started today.

I’m a little late in this post because I forgot my computer cord and don’t want to run the battery down on my own laptop. Daddy mailed the cord today but until it arrives I’m using the monitors in the business center as much as possible.

Travel to DC was fine – my first USAir flight in eons – but then I screwed up on the subway. I took the blue line out of DCA all right, but when I transferred to the orange I neglected to see it was also a blue line and ended up right back where I’d started.

Had this been the middle of the day, it wouldn’t have mattered, but it was around 8:30 p.m. and the trains started running more infrequently, so it was a 15 minute wait until the next blue came around. Then it was another 20 minutes before the next orange one came through.

 As luck would have it (bad luck, I mean), the orange line was also under weekend construction, so I then had to ride it to the end, which was two stops away from where I needed to be, and then transfer to a shuttle bus for the last two stops – another 15-minute wait.

So, instead of ending up at the apartment at 8 p.m., it was more like 10 p.m., and then I had a long, involved check-in. It’s hotel-like, but it is an apartment so there was a lease and everything involved. Finally, I got to my room and unpacked everything, which is when I discovered the computer cord was missing. Ah well.

Sunday, instead of going to church like I’d planned, I walked to the Safeway – about a mile, maybe – and then spent $60 on groceries. Honestly, I can’t remember when I spent that much on groceries last. Definitely not in Minot or in Jakarta.

After walking back from that – and bashing the hell out of my toe on the grocery cart – I decided to go to Target. I knew where one was, but after looking at a map, I found out there was one just past the Safeway, right on the other side of the CHICK-FIL-A. Yes, I have a Chick. So awesome.

Anyway, after the Target run I was pretty much set up in the apartment (though I still have no salt and pepper) but was exhausted so I skipped the social and soaked in the tub. Got the first good night’s sleep in awhile and headed out.

 The apartment, which has lots of State people in it, had a shuttle right to work, so I went on that Today was just a bunch of paperwork and HR-ish seminars, like planning retirement and picking a health plan.

The real classes start tomorrow, and it’s my understanding that I will also get the “bid list,” which will be a list of nine posts that are open for the people in my position. I am to “bid” on them to decide where I will be working for the next two years.

 I am not allowed to post this list publicly, nor will I be allowed to post here where I will wind up. Or at least that’s my understanding right now. I know the former is true, but I’m not positive about the latter, but either way, if you want to know where I will be going, be sure to email me and ask me around Sept. 26.

Zero to 60

This was unexpected. But I could get used to it, and hope I do.

Even though I am specifically on the “do not call” list for the foreign service – the job in the pipeline – I got an job offer in April for July.

It came six days after I’d re-taken the oral assessment and somehow, with the “new” candidacy, it didn’t transfer over that I was supposed to be marked as unavailable.

My plan was to stay in Minot and finish the rebuild with Hope Village, and I was to be on DNC until November, which would have made me available for the January 2014 class, assuming there would be one.

So I declined that offer – you get one shot to say no, and then if you do it again, your candidacy is deep-sixed – and went on my merry way.

My plan was to finish up in Minot, get my offer, take a cool vacation (literally, as I was eying Antarctica) and then start real and gainful employment on January 27.

God mocked me.

The last foreign service orientation class – the six-week training for the position – is to be in September, and those invitations went out in July. Based on the numbers given earlier, there should have been about 14 or 15 in the class, but there were six. Even with my high score, I wasn’t high enough on the list to get one. But that was OK, because I was on DNC anyway.

Started hearing rumors of next year’s positions being cut back even more than this year’s, which would have been brutal since the 2013 numbers were half what the 2012 numbers were. I’ve even heard rumors of the January class being canceled and no hirings for the specific position I’ve been gunning for. (It’s an OMS, or office management specialist.)

I’m on a Yahoo! group for this job, and there are other people out there who are also close to being hired. One of them had a higher overall score than I did on the OA (she got bonus points; I didn’t) and she sits higher than me on the register but is also unavailable until January.

One Tuesday, she posted on the board that she’d received a call on a job offer because they added two spots to the September class. The person who called told her they knew she was on DNC but was just checking to verify that she was not interested. She assured them she was not.

And then I got an emailed offer. No “hey, you’re on do-not-call, just checking” but the offer. Same as July – the one if I said no to a second time, they’d drop me.

My supervisor was in his office when I opened the email and I said something to the effect of “You’ve GOT to be kidding me” or “Again?” or something similar that made him ask me what was up.

I read it to him and he, the ever calm peacemaker, said to step back and think about it a minute. This is the second time it’s come, so maybe this really was God telling me to go ahead and leave Minot.

I truly hate to do it, but the way it’s worked is since the end of June, the one partner has thwarted the recovery efforts.

No, that’s not true. Since I’ve been in Minot, they’ve done it. Left and right, everything I suggest to try to get volunteers, they shoot down. It goes on and on, really, and it makes me so sick I want to vomit.

But in June, which was the second anniversary of the flood, it became evident to me that we are not going to finish by Oct. 31, which was the goal and the reason to extend.

Then, we had 100+ volunteers for the only time this summer, and they had them doing yard work. That’s a nice concept, but it’s directly in opposition to our mission, which is to rebuild the homes.

We’ve (meaning this partner has) turned away volunteers – over 150 – and misused the ones we’ve had. It’s made me sick to my stomach on more times than I care to count, because all I want to do is get the homeowners back.

I’ve done everything in my power to bring attention to Hope Village, and have done well. I’ve built the brand but this partner had just undermined so many things.

Example: they sent out a letter to the homeowners saying Hope Village was closing in October, but they would finish the rebuild. That’s NOT true. At the board meeting, which is where they were asked to send a letter, we explicitly said we would not use the word “close.”

But they sent out the letter anyway, denied they were doing it and didn’t bother to check with the board on the wording, or even cc: in the alleged PR person (me).

So too much of that was getting to me, and I decided I had to accept the offer.

It set off a whirlwind that won’t end until I board a plane for DC. And then another whirlwind will begin.

Mostly, it’s been gut-wrenching. I didn’t want to leave and now I feel like I am abandoning Minot.

The one extremely palatable thing has been discovering I am going to become a gainfully employed federal employee with all the benefits that come with that.

My salary offer almost caused me to faint. I’m coming in at the lower grade, I think an FP-4, because everyone comes in at that one. But it has 14 steps in the grade with about a $20k range in between. And they’re bringing me in at step 14.

So I’m going to shift gears fast and go from practically zero as an AmeriCorps volunteer to close to $60k as a federal employee. Yay!

For foreign service, you also get housing paid (assuming you’re overseas), plus different allowances if applicable, like cost of living, danger or hardship pay.

In Jakarta, for example, there are COLA and hardship allowances that account for another 30 percent. Not all posts have allowances, though.

After two years, I get a month of “home leave” which must be spent in the US.

The job is an OMS, so it’s in my wheelhouse even if it isn’t what I totally love. I’ve read reports of people in the field and it sounds pretty cool, though, so I am looking forward to it.

And no, I don’t know where I will go.

The drill is I will be in DC for six weeks of orientation. During the first week, we will get a list of the available posts and “bid” on them. There are eight in my position so there should be eight posts and I think I rank them high, medium or low.

Three weeks later, we all find out where we’re going. The posts are two years for the first two and then after tenure they’re between one and three, but I think it’s usually two.

It is possible that I will be in DC for longer than six weeks, because some posts require language or other training.

So now the frantic work begins. I have to unpack everything that’s been in storage since 2007 and organize it. It consists of multiple piles, such as “store until retirement,” “might use at post later,” “need for posts now,” “may or may not use in DC” and the like.

I’m up to my ears in paperwork, which isn’t surprising because it’s a federal gig.

I really have mixed feelings about it, though. I really wanted to stay in Minot.

Return of the Flies

OK, Morocco made me appreciate cleanliness and lack of flies. There were so many flies in Ras L’ma it was scary – I remember a big piece of concrete literally covered in flies. I remember flies at the souk, flies in the eyes of little kids and donkeys.

And I swore I’d never complain about the occasional U.S. fly again. After all, it’ll be dead in a few days anyway, right?

Well, I am reneging on that oath and whining about them.

This week, Hope Village had the opportunity to receive a portion of the gate proceeds of the Bakken Oil conference. Half of the $5 admission fee is being split between us, the Dakota Boys’ and Girls’ Ranch and the Williston Salvation Army. This is a good thing, of course, and I am appreciative. Thank you, oil people.

In return, we were given the opportunity to have a booth at the conference. This seemed easy enough, although the email directions started getting very, very confusing and detailed about two weeks ago.

Got all that settled and finally, the three-day conference has begun. I’m sitting, “Breakfast Club”-style, in one room for eight hours a day for three days as I type this. Exciting it’s not.

The first morning went by fast enough as I was off discovering what funky booths they have at oil conferences. Would you believe AP is here as a sponsor? I had a nice chat with Michelle Morgante, who is either the bureau chief or the news editor of the Dakotas, but she’s based in Minneapolis or something like that.

Of course, she had been through Detroit, though it was in 1991. She knew a couple of people I worked with, like Jim Irwin and Paula Froke. She was kind of astounded that I knew where some were and what they were up to these days. (Hi Bree!)

I also got an AP bag, which was kind of cool since most of my AP going away package got lost on the shipment back from Morocco. I need another bag like Rally needs more fleas, but I like it.

So the morning was pleasant enough, but the afternoons were just brutal. The nice little spot they gave the three charities is smack in the sun on a sunny, 94-degree day. Possibly Tuesday was the hottest we had all year, and man, it was just like roasting in an oven.

But what was worse was the flies. They just swarmed. I’ve no idea why, but they were everywhere. Just five and six on my feet at any one time.

And even though every single booth but Hope Village’s was giving away some little trinket, there was not a fly swatter to be found. I brought my reporter’s notebook and looked like a crazy woman, just whacking away at the air. I think in all the spasms, I maybe got one. Maybe.

The second day, someone found a giveaway fly swatter.

At these exhibitions, everyone gives away something. There’s a lot of candy and a lot of pens, neither of which I need. There are some funky stuff out there, let me tell you. Toothpick dispensers, fidgets shaped like chickens and oil rigs, golf tees and more.

We three charity booths apprehended one fly swatter among us and on the third day I figured what the heck, I’d go get a fly swatter of my own. I’d gotten the name off the first one and looked up where it was so that I didn’t have to wander.

Well, I got there, and no fly swatter, save the one the absent booth-minder had left behind hit computer monitor, clearly intended for him. I couldn’t bear to steal it. No more fly swatters. Apparently that was a hot item at this show, where the flies were just insane.

But the guy did have another freebie. I thought it was a moist towelette and thought, wow, what a weird, weird freebie. And I picked it up to look at it.

And it wasn’t a moist towelette. It was a condom. Grape.

Given the choice between a condom and a fly swatter, in Minot at this conference, it’s just no contest. Fly swatter. Hands down. I don't even like grape.

I saw some lady wandering by, the kind of white trash people you see in Walmart at 3 a.m. She three bags she’d picked up as freebies, and each one was completely laden with freebies. I guess she got her money’s worth in coming here.

When she passed me by, I hid the one remaining T-shirt I had left. It was a medium, and she was NOT a medium, and I figured I’m not going to help her out in her pilfering. Heck, she reminded me of Frick and Frack from the Red Wings games, stealing media guides and everything else that wasn’t nailed down.

So she didn’t get a T-shirt and since she came on the third day, she didn’t get a fly swatter.

I wonder how many grape condoms she took.

Center of it all

There’s a lot going on this week, but I’m keeping the focus here on last weekend. It was probably my last motorcycle ride through North Dakota.

Despite what Wendy and Leanne think, I enjoy riding. There were a couple of moments I wasn’t entirely comfortable, like going over gravel, when we forgot to put the kickstand down and the whole 750-pound machine kind of sunk and when the sun goes down and it gets pretty cold. But other than that, I’ve felt pretty safe.

I broke the visor thing so I do get wind in my eyes, but my sunglasses help that somewhat. The regular glasses are a little less so, but the weather’s been beautiful and therefore sunglasses-worthy so that point is essentially moot.

And honestly, if the wind ever gets too bad, I can just dunk behind my driver’s helmet and not look to the right or left. I miss some good views of sunflower fields that way, though.

I drove the Red Cross truck on Saturday and couldn’t get away for a longer ride then, but we opted to do a quickie trip to Rugby instead. It’s only an hour away and is the “geographical center of North America.”

So that’s a cool thing, right? Only somehow, we missed the big marker. I’m not sure what happened – this was one of those times I was staring at the red helmet – but we veered off to see the Pioneer Museum, which was closed. We walked around it, which necessitated creating a trail up and down a hill. That got a little confusing, but after that, somehow, we just went the wrong way and tooled through the town.

The little museum did have one of those little marker things and I thought it was the center point, but then in our walk, we also ran across a bigger one that was made of some kind of cheaper material. I thought maybe it was a stand-in like the fake Stanley Cup, but I really never figured it out.

However, on the way out, I saw the real marker across the street. It was a big thing on a platform shaped like a heart. It’s not much, but it was kind of neat to see. Hey, neither is the Four Corners place.

 

Yesterday, we headed out to New Town, which has a casino. I lost .70. My driver lost $8.50. I had to laugh. It didn’t take five minutes to go through it.

We went to that building – on one of several reservations in North Dakota – to avoid a rainstorm, but I’m really unclear on if it ever did rain. It was kind of neat to see, really. They’ve had concerts there before and I wondered what the venue was like. (Answer: sort of a gym.)

On the way out, we went to a hilltop that overlooked Lake Sakakawea, which, you might remember, was made when the Garrison Dam was built. When the dam was put in, it was going to flood a town in the valley, so the town relocated and Sanish became New Town.

Apparently when the water is low (which it hasn’t been since I’ve been here), you can see the spots where certain buildings used to be. As it was, the little sign said the rodeo grounds had been located under where the gigantic bridge was now.

It’s also a Lewis and Clark site, and there were little markers showing where they’d camped. On the way back from their trip, it was the spot where Sakakawea left the Corps of Discovery for home.

We got home fairly early yesterday, all things considered, and then grilled. It was a nice afternoon.

But probably my last ride. My diver heads back to Minnesota this week and is gone until after Labor Day, so I won’t see him anymore. I am a little bummed about that, but I knew it was coming so it’s not like I can complain.

There is lots to keep me busy at work this week, and then everything changes. But right now, the focus is on trying to put together a policy manual and a how-to book. As if that weren’t enough for the week, I also have to sit at a booth at the fairgrounds for three days for some oil expo.

I’m not really sure what it’s all about, but they wanted to donate a portion of the proceeds to Hope Village, and this is the hoop I have to go through to get it. At the time, I didn’t realize it was going to be THIS week, but I’m dealing with it.

What’s kind of amusing to me is that I have all these tickets and things and I really can’t say I know anyone who really wants to go. (Seriously, who do I know to ask?) I’ve even got three tickets to some reception on Wednesday night. If they have good food, I might ask my driver to go, but I don’t think it’s more than appetizers. It’s some kind of Bakken Oil event.

Sunflowers on Sunday

My countdown clock is really winding down now, and it worries me some. I’ve got at least one large project due before around the middle of November and so far it’s kind of stalled. After doing a lot of work on one phase of it last week, there’s little I can do on it until I enter my supervisor’s brain.

At the moment, that brain is suffering from a severe migraine, so it ain’t going to be today.

Today’s been a little of a letdown overall, in part because Saturday is over. This is a good thing. I had a really big community event on Saturday and I have been ready for 2:30 p.m. on August 10 since about April 3. Now that it’s over, I am kind of at a loss as to in which direction to move.

Yesterday, though, that direction was south. I hopped on the back of the bike again and got chauffeured around a big square in North Dakota encompassing the Garrison Dam, some cool national park with a lot of flowers, Hazen and Stanton, the home of Sakakawea (more commonly known as Sacajawea).

So it was nice and somewhat relaxing, even if I did forget to put sunscreen on my nose. Today I look like Rudolph. 

 

The dam is an earthen one, one of the biggest in the U.S. I’m fascinated by these things because I just don’t understand science at all. Somehow water turns into electricity. I just don’t grasp these things. A misused “it’s” jumps out at me, but my brain cannot grasp this kind of stuff.

There were lots of people fishing, be it in boats or along the sand. Saw some beaver-chewed trees but no evidence of the beavers or any dam made by critters.

Went by a fish hatchery, which wasn’t open despite being between the posted hours. You could walk in and see some tanks, but not the big long ones or anything. But it was cool to see what a walleye looks like because people talk about catching those all the time.

 

The sunflowers are massively cool. North Dakota produces more sunflower oil and seeds than any other US state, and there are fields upon fields of them.

Last week’s ride north didn’t yield too many that had gotten to the big blooming phase just yet, but on this trip there were plenty. They’re just so gorgeous.

The little Sakakawea city had a museum there, but we only had about 10 minutes before closing. Fortunately, you could wander outside in the mud igloo earth home thing. It was actually a nice-sized area with things like bunk beds and I thought that wouldn’t be so bad until I read the description that said that families of 5-15 plus their dogs and horses lived in them. Then it was a bit too cozy for me.

Saw lots of little wildlife, including something small being run down quickly by something medium-sized. Couldn’t really tell what it was, though.

The frogs were out in force and one deer jumped in front of us. I couldn’t get the camera ready for that one. Also met two cool dogs, which made me miss Kocur all over again.

Oh, and another awesome thing I couldn’t capture on film: a bald eagle. Man, that was cool. I don’t think I’ve ever seen one in the wild. This one obviously had a nest nearby because he kept hanging out in the same area (this was when we were talking to a fisherman so we were there awhile). But my camera is crappy and I didn’t even try. I just watched it fly.

I’ve no idea how long the motorcycle rides are going to last, but I am enjoying them. It’s a little tough getting the view from the bike – I have this big head in front of me – but it’s much easier to just duck down a side street and see where it goes.

Peace Out

TWO weekends away in the span of a month! What has happened to me?

I darted out on Sunday (and am unbelievably exhausted today) to go up to the International Peace Gardens with another volunteer. On the back of a motorcycle, no less, but I think I did OK. I didn’t cause any crashes, but I do know to wear more clothes next time. It was very overcast and I was really chilled.

 

North Dakota is the Peace Garden State. If you didn’t know this, well, that’s OK because neither did I. But, for informational purposes, there is a fantastic garden that straddles the border between North Dakota and Manitoba.

We, being newbies to the site, erred on the side of caution at this left turn into the garden. It’s in the zone between the US customs and the Canadian customs, and, since I lived in Detroit, fear ticking off the border guys and suggested we go through Canadian customs instead of just turning straight in.

Well, as it turns out, you can just go straight in, so my trek into Manitoba by motorbike was only the new meters it took to make a U-turn and enter the grounds. The lady said it happens 40 times a day; you’d think they could put up some kind of sign that says, “Really, you can turn left here without standing in line.”

Just over half the park – something like 1,000 acres – is in Manitoba and the other 800 or so is in North Dakota. It’s ridiculously beautiful.

We putzed around a ride around a couple of lakes. Didn’t see any turtles sunning themselves because there was no sun, but we heard some loons and saw some cool trees before we hit the main flower part.

That is just incredible. I took 100 photos exactly. I couldn’t even guess on the number of petals in the photos. They had a couple of side things, like the cactus garden, and I just oohhed and ahhed.

Even though it was overcast and misty, it was really gorgeous.

We made a stop on the way up at some random thing that turned out to be a modern-day Stonehenge. Sitting smack in North Dakota. Who knew?

On the way back, we stopped at an old cemetery in a boarded-up Catholic church. It was on one of the Indian reservations in the area. I saw some headstones that I’d never seen before, like wooden or metal crosses.

My penance for taking a weekend off was that I didn’t get a story written that I should have done. I was supposed to get it to the board members by close of business today.

I wrote it at about 3 p.m., but sent it to two board members for an early look in hopes of getting feedback before sending it to the rest. It’s a story on the exit plan as the organization winds down.

October 31 is the hoped-for end date of the rebuild. There are a lot of things that have to fall into place, but the idea of the story is to stave off panic of flooded homeowners when they see Hope Village bedroom sleeping units being packed up for deployment to Moore, Okla.

It doesn’t appear I am going to get the draft back, though, so I’m just going to cut my losses and send that version to the board. I really need to give them time to get their input before I send it out.

So peace out.