Disney World: 88

Depending upon whether you count from my timezone or Katie's timezone and whether you count my travel day, we are either 89 or 87 days from Disney World. So I'll take the average.

I think I'm more excited about it than the kids. I confirmed Disneyland to be the happiest place on earth among the subset of places I have visited. I haven't been to the Road of Bones, for example, but I'm pretty confident Disneyland is happier.

Now I will test it against Disney World, which I am informed is the one place children can obtain real magic wands, as compared to "this dumb thing that you just shake and nothing happens, even if you know the spells". Madeline requested one for Christmas. Rather than get creative with the Santa myth, I just redirected her to a Christmas list that substituted the iMac (which I was going to buy anyway) for the wand.

After Christmas, however, the request resurfaced, followed by, "And I know we can get one because we're going to Disney World."

Maybe I'm over thinking this, but I have a feeling that magic wand disillusionment will somehow lead back to Santa, and the Easter Bunny. Madeline will see the man behind the curtain and childhood will be over, and she will be trying to borrow the car, and some guy will be asking permission to marry her, and I'll be a grampa, and I'll say, "Why did she have to request that darn magic wand?"

I Have No Hot Water

Haven't had any for days. I shower at the embassy gym, with the four other regulars. No singing. I wear flip flops. I almost said thongs, but that sounded weird.

There is a bathroom down the hall from my office. It is the smelliest room I have ever entered on purpose. My New Year's resolution is to never go there again. That is not a joke. There is a bathroom downstairs that is almost normal. It at least has a toilet anyway. But what Pakistanis do in toilets must be very different from what I do in toilets.

I have never seen a broken toilet seat in my life until this toilet. They replace the toilet seat about every month. And it is always broken the next day. I really can't figure out what the toilet is for, for them, that would immediately break the toilet seat. If I could answer this one riddle, I would be happy with my time here. Or maybe I wouldn't. Maybe I don't want to know.

None of the bathrooms provide any way to dry your hands. No paper towels. No blow dryer thingy. Shake it off. So I use my hair as a towel. But since I forget to bring shampoo to work at least half the time, my hair is often more like noodles soaked in olive oil than a towel. On the bright side, I discovered that three days without washing yields optimally manageable hair. Really, I can make it do anything. Other times I use my pockets as a towel. Or my socks.

Sometimes I just watch all the people walking out of the bathroom shaking their hands like zombies with Turrets.

I got up at 4 am to watch the Super Bowl. Spoiler alert: The Patriots lost. So that royally sucked. And I didn't even have good commercials to console me. No, I was watching on AFN (Armed Forces Network), so I got nice PSAs reminding me to stop cyber-bullying my co-workers. As if. That's how I cope with my confusion over the broken toilet seat.

Hernia Ho!

My bulging intestines and I are going to Singapore for repairs. Apparently they have a pretty efficient operation there. In through the belly button, out through Terminal A, and back to Islamabad in no time.

I guess it's kind of like a free vacation, except that it includes surgery and laying in bed most of the time.

If anyone is going to be in Singapore in a few weeks, bring flowers.

Kickin' Down the Cobblestone

I have time. Evenings weekends. Time. Until this year, the last time I had time was about nine years ago.

So I work out, mostly running, and I plan (it's really more like shopping without intent to purchase, so I call it planning).

Alas, hernia! If this were 1970, I would be fully middle-aged so I would expect to have a hernia, but this is 2012 and I am barely entering adulthood, transitioning from "emerging adulthood." Why do I have a hernia? Do I also have osteoporosis? Menopause?

Anyway, the doc is trying to tell me it isn't an emergency. You know, like when you have a torn ACL, but, hey, you can use crutches, so why would you have surgery?

How I Became Wealthy

I am the wealthiest man on earth. My riches appeared quickly, and seemingly out of nowhere, but mine is not a get-rich-quick story. No, there was a lot of work for many years. But when the wealth finally came, it came all at once, while I was sitting in an armored vehicle on Faisal Avenue. I was thinking about the stoics.

Seneca carefully accounted for all his possessions each night. He would then make plans to throw them away and acquire them again through his efforts. In the morning he would decide to keep his things and subsequently feel immensely wealthy.

If I lost my job today, what would I have to do? OK, I have a plan for that. If the stock market crashed, what would I do? I have a plan for that. If I die tomorrow, have I done what I need to do? Hmm, looks like I'll be busy today.

Seneca prompted these exercises, and they have been fruitful. But when I discounted all my assets, that's when I became truly wealthy. I then perceived more clearly the value of what remained.

I have Madeline and her relentless creativity. I have Caleb and his boundless curiosity. I have Henry and his fearless adventures. I have Katherine and her tireless determination.

Can I ever be other than rich with such a team?

"Turn pain into information, fear into prudence, mistakes into initiation, and desire into undertaking."

Three Months

Just over three months to go. It is beginning to feel as though this year might actually end.

"Mom, was that the last time we have to say goodbye to dad?" Caleb reportedly asked Katie a few days ago.

She replied in the affirmative.

"Can we make him a welcome home sign?"

I miss you too, buddy. Three months to Disney World, which will truly be the happiest place on earth.

A Tribute

I just listened to a podcast with this quote about/tribute to Steve Jobs (paraphrased because I am writing from memory):

"Steve Jobs was the last true artisan. He made computers that were beautiful on the inside even though no one ever opens their computer. He did it because he wanted to deliver authenticity."

I like that idea: deliver authenticity.

And I will take it one step further: Quality is love. When we love others, we strive for quality in all that we do. Especially the parts no one sees.

It's Funny the Things I'm Sad About

When contemplated, the foreign service life is a grand adventure. When chosen and approaching relentlessly, it can be unnerving.

Over the past year, Madeline has mentioned several times that her friends will go to such-and-such middle school and such-and-such high school. She wonders where she will go to high school.

I grew up a few blocks from my high school. I would sit on the front porch and listen to the crowd roar at the football games. I looked forward to being an Idaho Falls Tiger. Years before I became one, it was already a deep part of my identity.

It makes me sad that my children won't have that. I suppose they'll have something else. Even so.

Guacamole

A little Christmas surprise

How Many In Your Party

When browsing for hotel rooms, you know how they ask you how many adults and how many children?

I thought this was to help you find the right room. Foolish me. This is actually to discourage large families (and by large, I mean small compared to 30 years ago--three is the new six) from coming to their hotel.

Put in more than two children and the website says they have no rooms for a party that size. Read the "room details" section and they usually limit the party to three or four per room maximum. This is especially true in Europe where they hate children.

As a soon-to-be world traveler with two-plus children, I can:

A) Ignore the hotels' signal that they will not accommodate my family. I have done this before for a night here or there, but for a week long vacation, do I really want to stay somewhere that is clearly telling me they would rather I go somewhere else? Nope.

B) Reserve two rooms. Um, expensive, plus I'm kind of ticked off that they hate children in the first place, so why do I want to give them my business?

C) Vacation rentals. Some have raved but I have a branding problem. Specifically, "Alkilis745" offering a two-bedroom in Athens is not a brand I trust. Supposedly vetted by Tripadvisor, but only one review, probably from Mr. Alkilis745, if that's really his name.

D) Here you go: Disney Vacation Club. That's right. I'm the sucker who wants to buy into Disney's timeshare program. Disney is a brand I trust. Disney loves kids! Plus Casey from the sales DVD is so peppy.

The Curious Spectacle of a Dying Bird

My desk is by the window. Outside the window is a very large tree. I looked out to see many passers by stopping and staring up at the tree. I could not see anything noteworthy in tree from my vantage point.

Over the next several hours, the crowd grew, perhaps to 30 at it largest. Construction staff (of which there are many buzzing around) were tugging on ropes draped over high branches.

The nearest branch from which one might attempt to climb the rest of the tree is about 30 feet off the ground. A ladder was brought in, but attempts to scale it were aborted for the uneven ground. Pointing. Discussing. Embassy construction managers and engineers huddled. A second ladder, and lashing. Alas, the same result.

Then a forty foot pole, from whence I cannot even guess, arrived and was employed by a team of three, one holding the pole, two balancing him. And the tree was jabbed. The pole pushed branches aside and at last, about three hours into the ordeal as I peaked up periodically from my work, I saw the object of interest, a large hawk, tangled in a rope winding through the tree for who knows what reason.

By hour four, the bird was out of the tree, dead.

I can't put my finger on why, but I found it reassuring that scores of workers would leave their posts for hours to pursue the rescue of an almost certainly doomed bird.