Two conversations from the past week, both with New Zealanders...
Kiwi 1: When was the last time you were home in Aussie?
Me: In July.
Kiwi 1: Yeah, I think you need to go back again so that you can lose that American accent.
Kiwi 2: So are you from the States or Canada?
Me: Australia.
Kiwi 2: Oh. Shit. Sorry.
Apparently I need to throw in more "G'day" and "mate" into conversations...
In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flander's fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, tho poppies grow
In Flander's fields.
Liet. -Col. John McCrae
Wednesday started pretty good - I had a briefing with the General, which went extremely well.
The rest of the day went downhill after that - fighting bureaucracy, one of my civilians in tears, and receiving orders from someone at HQ that I don't have any respect for (I did, however, resist the urge to tell her that if she wanted to give orders, she should get some stripes on her shoulder and get her ass down here to work for a change rather than swanning about drinking cappucinos at the cafe down below her office - yes, apparently I am able to exercise a little bit of diplomacy from time to time!).
But the day got significantly better when one of my military friends stopped by my office and said "grab your IBA [individual body armour], we're going to the range."
After a very involved safety briefing, which included tips like "keep the weapon pointed in that direction" and how to load the magazine and where the safety was located, I went out on the range and fired off 30 rounds at a very small target.
The Alpha Marshmellow was suitably impressed with my shooting ability - 11 out of 30 rounds hit the (very) small target - not bad at all for my first time firing a gun.
And I went back to work covered in dust/sand (from kneeling and lying in the dirt), but in a much better mood.
Me: Are you tired?
AM: No, not really.
Twenty seconds later (literally!), and he is sound asleep.
I, however, spent most of the night awake, and then spent most of Tuesday feeling very cranky from lack of sleep.
(yes, Sarah - I am still alive!)
A summary of vacation:
The scenery was awesome.
The hiking was awesome.
The food was awesome - healthy, organic, Farmers Market produce.
Lots of awesome massages.
All 'round great vacation.
And then I came back to work.
My first week back was only 4 days long, and I spent two and a half days out of the office at training for harassment/EO issues and in meetings for other things. All the time that jetlag is kicking my ass.
And then my boss went on vacation this week, leaving me in charge. Not having fun at all. Vacation seems a long time ago.
but today I went hiking, and it was spectacular.
Long flight to get here.
Made longer and slightly more stressful at Charles De Gaulle airport in Paris, when I was asked a gazzilion questions about my travel plans before I was let back on the plane.
Who knew that an Aussie female could attract so much attention just by travelling from an airport in the Middle East???
What is the purpose of your trip to the US?
How long will you be in the US?
Where are you a resident of?
How long have you been there?
How much longer will you be living there?
What are you doing there?
Can you show me a business card? (no, but I can show you my fancy-schmancy work ID)
Who bought your ticket?
How was it paid for?
How did you book it?
Do you have a return ticket?
(By contrast, the Immigration Officer when I actually landed in the US was polite and friendly, and only asked me what the purpose of my trip was, and how long I would be staying)
Yes, I realise that there is a reason why these questions are asked, but I had serious flashbacks to Sept 1999, when I first travelled to the US, on my way to the UK where I was planning to live for two years. The Immigration Officer as LAX asked me about 20 questions on what I was doing in the US (hello? I'm here to spend money in your country and then leave!), and made me feel like a criminal for even wanting to visit the US as a tourist.
So yeah... I am on vacation. And I am at that point where I am trying to relax and it doesn't really feel comfortable yet. Admittedly, I am not thinking too much about work. I am not checking my work emails. But I have yet to let go of the "everything must be on a schedule!" mentality. I guess that will come in a few days.
*deep breath* and relax...
