We’re back in America!

It is great to be back but there is still quite a bit of stress involved as we try to figure out where we’re going to live.  In the meantime, we’re staying with our friend Niki, which has been wonderful in so many ways - the kids play great with her kids, and B and I have someone to spend time with during the day as we adjust back to being here.

Speaking of adjusting, considering the 9 hour time difference, we have adjusted to that part of things very well.  It helped that by the time we finally got in, after 27 hours of traveling, we were exhausted and had no problem sleeping.  Last night I was up at 3am for an hour or so but went back to sleep until a more reasonable hour.

There was drama in Madrid as they didn’t want to let us get on the plane with the cats.  We ended up purchasing soft carriers and shoving them under the seats in front of us, which couldn’t have been wonderful for them but then again, it’s not wonderful for anyone to be stuck in one spot for an almost-10 hour flight and then another 5 hour flight. Cat or hoomin.  It was also great that they put us all over the plane, so Isak was in row 17 in the middle, Anja was in row 39 in the middle, I was in row 30 in the middle and B was in row 34 in the middle.  Which meant not only were we not sitting near each other, but for us to check on the kids meant we had to ask someone else to get out so we could get up.  Fortunately I had the most bubbly cheerleader-esque girl from Baton Rouge, LA sitting next to me who, every time I asked if I could get up, bounced out of her seat with the same excitement as being told she just won the lottery.  I didn’t quite know how to deal with all that enthusiasm.

Back to the present: tomorrow I try to get my driver’s license (if Wisconsin’s DMV will be helpful) and then we can pick up our car and start actively finding a place to live.  In the meantime, we spent the afternoon on the beach at Lake Washington where I roasted in the sun…how is it that we picked orders somewhere that we were looking forward to being cold and rainy, and it’s sunny and in the 80s every day?  And no A/C…it’s a bit ridiculous.

We’re glad to be back, and to have cell phones in the U.S.  Helloooo free calls from 7pm to 7am!

Because most of my readers (if I even have any left) are my close friends and family, pretty much everyone already knows without my having posted about it that we’re moving back to Washington where I am going to be stationed on the aircraft carrier USS Abraham Lincoln.  It’s going to be a great career opportunity and I’m looking forward to getting started, but it’s a bit overwhelming to think about the pace my life is about to hit.  Going from Spain, land of mañana, to an aircraft carrier, land of…well…not land at all but rather nuclear-powered floating highly armed sovereign U.S. territory warship…need I say more?

As many people know, our stay here in Spain has not been quite what we expected it to be.  I’ve always said, and still maintain, that I would have loved Spain if we actually got to live in Spain.  Instead we lived on base, where all of our neighbors - fantastic as most of them have been - are American.  The base is all things American - American TV, American radio, American grocery stores, cars, coffee, language, culture.  And while I love my culture and am prouder than ever to be an American (living in another country can do that to a person), we came here with the hopes and expectations of being immersed in a new culture and we hoped to make friends and learn to speak Spanish well and appreciate everything the culture had to offer.

But I digress.  We’re leaving in 3 days, 13 hours and 11 minutes. 

The time snuck up on us a few weeks ago and I decided, rather firmly, that I was not leaving Spain without traveling more.  So 2 weekends ago a friend of mine and I left the kids at home (with B) and flew up to Barcelona where I soaked up the abundant sun, walked La Rambla and the Gothic Quarter, visited Gaudi’s architectural masterpieces, and, naturally, got my Visa check card number stolen.  Fortunately I put a stop to the payments to Renfe (the train), RyanAir and Vueling, lastminute.com travel agency, and various restaurants and hotels.

The crappy part about having your Visa check card number stolen when you’re moving is that you have nowhere reliable to send a replacement card to. And when you’ve shipped out your entire wallet with your debit card and remaining credit card (who does that?!), that puts you in a bit of a pickle financially.  Good thing I have a responsible spouse who does not do such silly things as ship a wallet out in his household goods.

Upon my return from Barcelona, I worked for 2 days and then B & I had our (10 years late) honeymoon - I took 4 days of leave and we drove our questionably reliable “Rota beater” to Sevilla and hopped a flight to Paris where we spent 3 magical days hitting all the major sights - Notre Dame, the Eiffel Tower, Arc du Triomphe, the Champs Elysses, the Musee Orsay, the Louvre, Versaille, Moulin Rouge, and even coffee at Amelie’s employer, Les Deux Moulins.  All finished with 300 steps up to the top of the Sacre Couer basilica to take in the spectacular view of Paris.  In between was stuffed with pain au chocolat, meringues, nutella-and-almond-filled crepes, cafe au lait, comte cheese, fabulous sandwiches, rich dinners, and copious amounts of red wine.

We got off the plane, drove back to the base where we picked up our kids, cleaned the house, slept for a few hours and then had a whirlwind of activity - we packed out our remaining household goods and put a “for sale” sign on our car.  On our way back from the office where I made the sign, the car battery died (naturally) and we had to buy a new battery, and while B was in the store buying the battery someone saw the sign and wanted the car.  In a half an hour we went from stressing about what to do with a car when we were leaving in 3 days to having sold the car and being ready to go.

All that’s left now is to pack and do some last-minute cleaning ’round the house.  And then it’s off to Everett, back to the cool and rainy weather that we actually really love.  I think I’ve had enough of this sun now.  I’m ready to be back in America.

My orders to Bahrain had me here until the 20th, with “but it’ll be done probably by the 15th” as a verbal addendum.  This is not me complaining that the investigation is taking longer than initially planned, it is me complaining that the stupid Formula 1 race going on in Bahrain right now has caused my standard of living to plummet, and for this I raise my fist in a very menacing manner and wave it at anyone at all who has ever enjoyed the sport.

When I first got here, despite my repeated requests to stay at the barracks on base - the convenience of being able to walk to and from work late at night, of having a washing machine available to me, and the obviously lower cost - was denied. 

Instead, the Navy graciously put me up in an incredible 5 star hotel.  It was beautiful.  There were 5 fantastic restaurants in it, and my biggest decision (on the days I made it back before they closed at 11) was to decide whether I wanted sushi and sake or filet mignon on grilled polenta.  The king sized bed and down duvet spoiled me.  I merely had to touch a keypad next to my pillow to shut off all the lights at once, where I could also select the “do not disturb” light to be displayed outside my door.  The lighted mirror made my eyebrows look better than ever.  The soft carpeting greeted my tired feet every morning, as I made my way to the lovely bath.  The staff greeted me every morning with friendly smiles and “good mornings” as I walked under the enormous crystal chandelier and down the escalator to the door where more kind “good mornings” greeted me as they held the door and whisked me into the hotel’s new-smelling SUV to shuttle me to the base on their prompt hourly schedule.

And then one day I was at work and got a call that they could no longer allow me to stay there.  My original reservations were up on the 15th and extended to the 21st, and on the 21st the hotel was already booked with the influx of people coming to watch the F1 race.  I called the base lodging facility, and sad as I was to not be pampered at the hotel, I was happy to be able to stay on base with the aforementioned conveniences. Alas, it was not to be.

Instead, they put me up in a different hotel off base.  It was a 4-star hotel, so I figured it would be rather nice, anyway.  When I got to the hotel in the morning (my other hotel regretted my inconvenience and graciously offered to drive me to my new hotel), I thought it was cute.  Kitschy.   Gaudy copper mirror-tiled exterior with worn terra cotta floors and slightly tacky persian rugs.  That was OK, because I’m less spectacular-crystal-chandelier-and-marble and more a gaudy-copper-mirror-tiled kind of gal.  My room was quaint, small with wood floors and velvet curtains, but it got the job done.  I gave a pass to the woman checking me in who seemed to be having One of Those Days with her glares and her curt disposition.

That was in the morning.  When I got home that night, I noticed right away that the staff seemed to be more aloof, with nary a smile in sight.  As I waited for the elevator with the sheer curtains with hundreds of things that looked like fly-fishing flies tied to it, a saxophonist in the lobby played over the already loud chintzy Muzak.  There’s only one instrument that I genuinely dislike, and it’s the saxophone.

I made my way to my room where a small child kept screaming from 2 rooms over, followed by its yelling mother, followed by screaming, followed by its yelling mother.  After eating my room service dinner - some iffy hummus (hammous!) that tasted more like smoked lamb than pureed garbanzo beans - I fell asleep. 

I recognize that I was spoiled by the luxurious king-sized bed at my other hotel, but I promise I am not that spoiled - this bed was awful.  At one point I woke up and my legs from knees down were off the bed.  When I woke up in the morning, I had a backache so bad it made me wish I had Dr. House there so I could borrow some Vicodin.  On top of that, I didn’t realize how nice and quiet the other hotel was until one night at this one: constant doors slamming, loud Muzak all night, conversations were audible, the traffic outside could be heard, plus someone nearby was smoking which I could smell from my room.

I asked for a ride to the base as they offered a shuttle, but they couldn’t tell me when it was going to leave.  I waited for 45 minutes for them to call, and when I called back to inquire when they believed the shuttle would be leaving was greeted with a friendly, “We already told you we will call you!”  The shuttle was laughable in comparison with the other hotel’s: a large, white, diesel van that got you high on the fumes of fuel and cigarettes, with peeling carpeting covering the floor.  What started out as “kitchy” turned into “icky”.

The next 2 nights I downed a handful of Motrin before going to bed to mitigate the pain, and last night I had a glass of wine before bed in the hopes that I would sleep through the assault of the Muzak.

At 5:30am I had this dream where this woman kept screaming, and it was annoying and I couldn’t shut her up.  But she kept screaming.  And screaming.  Until finally my brain worked in such a way as to tell me that I was NOT dreaming, there was someone screaming outside.  I went to the window and peered down the 6 stories into the parking lot where I had the fortune of watching a woman in a red minidress and stiletto heels lose her shit for the next 20 minutes, kicking, screaming, biting, crying, punching, pulling her hair, pulling others’ hair, smacking, shoving, and spitting at anyone who came near her.  Her friends (presumably) finally showed up with their SUV, but I watched as it rocked back and forth while a leg occassionally jutted out from the side, kicking the door back open, or as she inexplicably jumped out to start smacking someone else.  Eventually they wrestled her into the car and peeled off.  It was a lovely start to my day.

Maybe she also didn’t approve of the F1 race being in town.

This traveling thing has been very frustrating.  I called our air terminal on base (I’m traveling Space Available, or “Space A”) and called on Monday morning.  The first filght available was supposed to leave on Tuesday.  I called Tuesday morning to confirm and they said that the flight wasn’t coming in until the next day.  Wednesday I called throughout the day to confirm it was on, and the “showtime” for the flight was 9pm.  I called for the last time at about 8:45pm, just before I left my house, to confirm it was still on time.  I got to the terminal and guess what?  Flight was now leaving at midnight.

Finally at about quarter to midnight, one of the crew members met me and explained that they would be stopping off in Souda Bay, Greece, for crew rest - they originated in Washington, DC and had a stop in Lajes and then in Rota before continuing on for the stop in Souda Bay.  And oh yeah, it’s a 6 hour flight so you might want to stop at the vending machine.  The crew guy was a bit short; they hadn’t planned on taking any passengers because the C-130 was packed full of cargo.

Once I got on the plane, it was a lot nicer.  The crew guy was very friendly, and guess where they let me sit?  In the cockpit.  For the whole flight.  And then they stuck headphones on me and offered me a Mexican feast of burritos, enchiladas, and chips and salsa.  As good as that sounded, I didn’t want to overstay my welcome by smoking out the cockpit, IF YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN. 

One of the crew members said I could sit at the controls and “fly” but after the dropped-and-cracked iPod, shattered candy dish, smashed glass pepper grinder, spilled coffee, and dropped can of soda from this week, I told him they may not want me anywhere near any controls on that plane.

After the Chief Engineer explained the GPS system, the maps, the radars, and the seat belt, I was exhausted and slept for about 4 hours straight laid out in the cockpit.  I think that just took over as The Most Unusual Place I’ve Ever Slept.

This is Piazza del Duomo.  It is one of the most beautiful places I have ever been.

We took the subway down to the square and as we came up from underground, you see this massive thing emerge above your head.  I am not prehensile enough to be able to appreciate the size and detail of something so massive and so intricate.

But I do love the girl with the red umbrella passing through the square.

This is what I’m talking about when I mention the detail - I just couldn’t sort it out in my head.

That’s just one tiny part of it…it goes on and on and on and wraps around and just keeps going with dizzying detail.

We first saw it at night, as it drizzled…

But we had to go back during the day, both for the outside in light as well as for the inside.  The inside that is as unbelievable as the outside.

See that little red dot on the far wall, above the stained glass?  The story goes that that’s where one of the nails from the Crucifixion has been placed.

Back outside, during the day the square was full of people…

… and pigeons.

Remember the other part of the square to the left?  That’s the Galleria Vittorio Emanuele.  That’s pretty incredible, too.

They have a McDonald’s inside of that place.  Which sells McToast.

We went again during the day for some more pictures.  That’s a Prada store on the right.  It looked so expensive that I had to avert my eyes because I was afraid I’d have to pay to look at it.

Shortly after we got there the first night, there was a large crowd gathering between the church and the Galleria.  I chuckled to Dan that Scarlett Johansson must be coming since there was a giant advertisement that she was featured on that was hanging on the side of the Galleria (you can see it in the first picture).  Behold my deductive reasoning skills.

See those guys flanking her?  They’re Dolce & Gabbana.  ScarJo really was very beautiful.  So beautiful, in fact, that both of us completely forgot how to function our cameras.  Dan forgot to take off his lens cap and I forgot that I have a paparazzi-worthy lens in my bag that could have gotten a close-ish-up picture of her.  This is why I don’t quit my day job.

{click on any photo for a larger version}

We got back today from a very exciting trip to Berlin, Germany that Anja qualified to compete in with the European Forces Swim League Championship meet.

I will certainly blog again soon about the rest of the trip, after my cholesterol levels go back down after the obscene amounts of bratwurst I consumed over the last 5 days.  For now, though, it’s all about Anja!

As I mentioned briefly a few posts ago, Anja qualified for Champs during the meet she swam in in Naples, Italy.  She qualified on her own for two events, the 50 meter freestyle (she had to swim it in under 49.55 seconds) and the 50 meter backstroke (she had to swim that in under 59.89 seconds).  A third event, the 100 meter freestyle, she missed by something like 2 seconds but was pulled up to participate in (1:55.99), so she had 3 individual events to compete in for this meet.

For the first time since she’s been competing in these meets, she said she got nervous before her first 2 events, both freestyles.  This was also her first time competing in a 50 meter pool which is considerably different than the 25 meter pools she’s swum in throughout the season.  As she waited for the 100m free to start, she was being a dork and swinging her arms and whoops, wouldn’t you know my daughter fell in while they were on the blocks.  Fortunately, they’re allowed one false start so she wasn’t disqualified.

Going to the blocks for her first event - Anja was in lane 3 (the lanes were numbered incorrectly, she’s in the actual lane 3 which was marked lane 2).

Swimmers, take your mark…

Go!

She ended up tied for 8th place in her heat, which was 16th or 17th overall, but the most important part for us was that she improved on her personal best time - the achievement we’ve always told her to strive for.

There’s video, too!

It’s kind of hard to ensure good coverage when you’re trying to watch the race out of one eye, but B did a better job than I did on the 100m free, huh?  I have no pictures but he has video!

You must pay attention to the announcer at the :36 mark…we all got a good laugh out of that.

Next was her 50 meter backstroke, her final - and favorite - event.  This time, unlike the previous 2 events, she finally had her familiar look of concentration and I could tell she was in The Zone.

For this event, she was in lane 4 (marked as lane 3 below).

She got a good, solid start which was a big improvement from her last couple of meets where her arms were already flailing well before she got into the right position to start using them.

She was looking strong, but the girl in lane 6 was stronger and had about a body’s length lead on her to start.

But she never gave up, and her stamina stayed with her to the end and she ended up first in her heat!  When combined with the 2nd heat (the faster of the 2 heats), she ended up 7th.  7th in all of the girls in the league aged 8 & under - which is quite a lot considering there were 18 teams competing - was so much better than we ever hoped for.  Even better was that she cut off almost 6 seconds from her personal best time

And that video…

There was an article in Stars & Stripes newspaper about the meet that you (but not we) can read here: http://www.stripes.com/article.asp?section=123&article=60589&source=rss

All in all, it was a fantastic meet and we couldn’t be any prouder of how well she has done this season.  Now she gets some well-deserved time off and we will see if she wants to continue until we leave here…assuming, of course, we actually get our orders to leave here…

Isak and I are finally starting to feel better, though today seemed to be a step backwards with me having a very stiff neck and generally icky feeling by the end of the day.  Isak finally shook the fever he had for 5 days and was back at school yesterday.

I got the pictures from Anja’s first away meet tonight and I am so happy to have something, if not my own memories, to remind me of how much Anja can do when she puts her mind to it.

This posture looks familiar…

Presentation of her medal for first place in the 50 meter freestyle for girls 8 & under:

B and Anja went out for dinner in the birthplace of pizza.  He had this seafood creation, and Anja even loved the mussels.

Did someone say GELATO?  Yummmmm!

Dancing? for the leaning tower of Pisa:

Flexing? Leaning?  I’m not exactly sure what’s going on here…

I’m so disappointed that this wasn’t a family trip, but we’re very excited that we’ll be going together to Berlin next month for the Championship meet that Anja qualified for.  This is a huge accomplishment for her as there are swimmers who have been doing this for years who didn’t qualify, and after a very short 5 months she has already done it.  We can’t wait to see how the Champs go!