YEA!!! Now I can relax and not study at all this weekend. The board was this afternoon and it went about as well as can be expected. There was a last-minute change in board membership so one person I really wanted to have on the panel wasn't able to be there and someone else took her place. It was someone I really was hoping would not be on the panel. But that's o.k.....it went pretty well and I got the outcome I was hoping for -- an unlimited contracting officer's warrant!!! What a huge relief!
I think a celebration is in order...so I'm going out for cheesecake tonight. Yum! Thanks so much for all of the prayers and positive thoughts....they worked!
Friday, January 26, 2007
Thursday, January 25, 2007
Tomorrow is the Big Day....
My warrant board is tomorrow at 2 p.m. Yikes! I'm feeling a bit nervous about it. I've printed off some recent policy memos to study tonight, plus I have some notes and a few other things to review. I'm trying not to stress too much about it. I've spent A LOT of time studying over the last two weeks, and I've been warned that it isn't good to "overprepare." I don't know that I've ever been overprepared for anything in my life, LOL! The best advice I've been given is to be calm and trust my knowledge, training, and instincts. That has worked for me in the past when I've done career boards (very similar to what I'll be doing tomorrow) and interviews, so I'm going to stick with it. The other advice I've been given is to take some time tomorrow morning to relax, gather my thoughts, and do some last minute review. I've decided not to skip my dance class tonight -- dancing always helps me relax, clear my mind, and gather my thoughts. I'm going to do that after physical therapy and my doctor's appointment in the morning.
As silly as this may sound, I've made my wardrobe selection. Suits are "mandatory" for things like this and I have several (or more) to choose from. I have two navy blue suits...one of them is more tailored than the other and it's one of my favorites, so that's what I'm going with. It seems appropriate (if not overkill) to wear navy blue to an Air Force warrant board, LOL! Now I need to find my navy blue shoes....
I would definitely appreciate any prayers and positive you can send my way! I'll be sure to post and let you know how everything turns out.
As silly as this may sound, I've made my wardrobe selection. Suits are "mandatory" for things like this and I have several (or more) to choose from. I have two navy blue suits...one of them is more tailored than the other and it's one of my favorites, so that's what I'm going with. It seems appropriate (if not overkill) to wear navy blue to an Air Force warrant board, LOL! Now I need to find my navy blue shoes....
I would definitely appreciate any prayers and positive you can send my way! I'll be sure to post and let you know how everything turns out.
Wednesday, January 24, 2007
"I Go Back...."
Lately I've been thinking about how certain smells, sounds, or sights evoke strong memories. It's interesting. I don't know exactly how it works it's fascinating. For some reason I've been experiencing this quite a bit lately.
Things like....
*The smell of L'Oreal lipstick. I just bought a tube recently and as soon as I opened it the familiar scent hit me and transported me back in time...to 1988 and a San Francisco Bay dinner cruise with my best friend, her brother (who was my boyfriend at the time), and his best friend (who was my best friend's boyfriend). Fisherman's Wharf, the smell of the ocean, seagulls squawking, and the lights of the city reflecting off the water.
*Pipe tobacco. I caught just a brief scent of pipe tobacco the other day...and it transported me back to childhood summer visits to my Grandparents' home in Idaho and Grandpa smoking his pipe. The house always smelled of pipe tobacco. After he stopped smoking, the smell gradually went away and the house never seemed the same to me.
*Raspberries. Fresh raspberries also take me back to childhood visits to Idaho. Grandma and Grandpa had tons of raspberry bushes and we picked fresh berries each morning for breakfast. SO delicious. Grocery store raspberries aren't the same as fresh-picked-that-morning-covered with milk and sugar-eaten warm off the bush raspberries. Grandma's homemade raspberry jam tastes so much better than any Smuckers will ever make. When Grandpa's health declined the raspberry bushes disappeared. The backyard seems much smaller now.
*The smell of hospitals...and I'm back to Alyssa's stay in the NICU. It isn't a a happy memory, but it isn't a sad memory, either. It's just there, reminding me always how precious life is...monitors beeping and squealing nonstop, the tiniest babies I had ever seen, limited visiting hours, and just sitting there watching her lay in her isolette. And knowing, in a way I couldn't explain, that my baby was going to be just fine.
*Sunscreen...back to Lake Powell , Oahu, and Maui, many years ago. Relaxing in the sun, swimming, laying on the beach. Amazing trips...not a care in the world...just living in the moment and enjoying the amazing adventure that stretched before me.
*Fresh cut grass...back to Anchorage in our back yard on B's first birthday, with A playing on the swingset and B just sitting on the blanket, smiling and laughing and basking in all of the attention. Looking around and knowing that we would be leaving soon to move across the country, and wanting to soak in everything around me.
*Beets. My Dad and I are the only people in our family who like beets. One year my parents decided we would grow a garden and each child picked one thing to plant. I chose beets. Even though no one else liked them, they let me plant beets. Of course, planting them also meant actually taking care of them...hands in the dirt and all of that. Yuck. But every time I see beets, I think back to that summer night in Wyoming when we planted a row of beets just because *I* wanted to plant beets.
*80s music by The Jets and Stevie B....back to Senior Night at Disneyland with one of my best friends, flirting with all of the guys because our boyfriends weren't on the trip with us...dancing at the outdoor venues to concerts by The Jets and Stevie B...Mint Juleps and beignets...a sailor hat with "Princess" embroidered on it...falling asleep on the bus ride home...laughing so hard it hurt and riding the Matterhorn and Space Mountain until I thought I would be sick.
Simple things. And I go back.
Things like....
*The smell of L'Oreal lipstick. I just bought a tube recently and as soon as I opened it the familiar scent hit me and transported me back in time...to 1988 and a San Francisco Bay dinner cruise with my best friend, her brother (who was my boyfriend at the time), and his best friend (who was my best friend's boyfriend). Fisherman's Wharf, the smell of the ocean, seagulls squawking, and the lights of the city reflecting off the water.
*Pipe tobacco. I caught just a brief scent of pipe tobacco the other day...and it transported me back to childhood summer visits to my Grandparents' home in Idaho and Grandpa smoking his pipe. The house always smelled of pipe tobacco. After he stopped smoking, the smell gradually went away and the house never seemed the same to me.
*Raspberries. Fresh raspberries also take me back to childhood visits to Idaho. Grandma and Grandpa had tons of raspberry bushes and we picked fresh berries each morning for breakfast. SO delicious. Grocery store raspberries aren't the same as fresh-picked-that-morning-covered with milk and sugar-eaten warm off the bush raspberries. Grandma's homemade raspberry jam tastes so much better than any Smuckers will ever make. When Grandpa's health declined the raspberry bushes disappeared. The backyard seems much smaller now.
*The smell of hospitals...and I'm back to Alyssa's stay in the NICU. It isn't a a happy memory, but it isn't a sad memory, either. It's just there, reminding me always how precious life is...monitors beeping and squealing nonstop, the tiniest babies I had ever seen, limited visiting hours, and just sitting there watching her lay in her isolette. And knowing, in a way I couldn't explain, that my baby was going to be just fine.
*Sunscreen...back to Lake Powell , Oahu, and Maui, many years ago. Relaxing in the sun, swimming, laying on the beach. Amazing trips...not a care in the world...just living in the moment and enjoying the amazing adventure that stretched before me.
*Fresh cut grass...back to Anchorage in our back yard on B's first birthday, with A playing on the swingset and B just sitting on the blanket, smiling and laughing and basking in all of the attention. Looking around and knowing that we would be leaving soon to move across the country, and wanting to soak in everything around me.
*Beets. My Dad and I are the only people in our family who like beets. One year my parents decided we would grow a garden and each child picked one thing to plant. I chose beets. Even though no one else liked them, they let me plant beets. Of course, planting them also meant actually taking care of them...hands in the dirt and all of that. Yuck. But every time I see beets, I think back to that summer night in Wyoming when we planted a row of beets just because *I* wanted to plant beets.
*80s music by The Jets and Stevie B....back to Senior Night at Disneyland with one of my best friends, flirting with all of the guys because our boyfriends weren't on the trip with us...dancing at the outdoor venues to concerts by The Jets and Stevie B...Mint Juleps and beignets...a sailor hat with "Princess" embroidered on it...falling asleep on the bus ride home...laughing so hard it hurt and riding the Matterhorn and Space Mountain until I thought I would be sick.
Simple things. And I go back.
Tuesday, January 23, 2007
Rachelle over at Teacher Going Mad is posting topics for My Life Mondays again and I thought would participate! If nothing else, it gives me something to blog about...and since I'm not good at keeping a journal and I'm hoping this blog will help me feel like I'm accomplishing something in the "record your life" arena, this serves as a ready-made journal topic! The topic for this week (yes, I'm a day late...) is "Where I live and how I got here."
I live in the south. Never in a million years did I expect to live in the south. Not me. Not that I didn't dream about being Scarlett O'Hara (no jokes or comments, please!) when I was younger. I'll even admit to dressing as a "Southern Belle" for Halloween two years in a row (you can get away with that when you go to 3 different high schools in four years). I just just never expected to live here. I grew up in a military family and the only assignment my Dad ever had in the eastern US was his first assignment in Illinois. Other than that, we lived out west...and mostly in California.
Thanks to the USAF, we ended up in Anchorage, Alaska. Although I'm not an outdoors person by any stretch of the imagination (you can quit laughing now), I loved it there. I absolutely loved it. Something about being so close to incredibly majestic mountains...the Northern Lights...the beauty of quiet winter snow...the quietness of not living in a city of fifty gazillion people...being able to literally see spring growth overnight...the people, the city, the culture...I loved it. I never wanted to leave. When my parents left, the plan was that they would move back to Anchorage after my Dad retired from the military. And so we stayed, awaiting their return.
And waiting. And waiting.
And then, the unthinkable happened. My parents moved to the south and they (my Mother, to be exact) decided that "they" (she) didn't want to move back to Alaska. Something about cold, dark, higher cost of living, having to travel by plane to get anywhere, being far away from family. Yeah, something like that. And they retired here. In the south. Where we had never lived before, and never even considered living.
DH served his mission in North Carolina and he had mentioned a few times that he would like to live in south someday. I never took him seriously. After all, I loved Alaska! Cross country ski trails just around the block from our house...gorgeous trees everywhere...the most beautiful, soft green grass you've ever seen... By this time we had two children and we knew that flying outside to visit family once each year just wasn't going to work for us. My family is very close, and DH's family is all very close. They all live within 30 minutes of each and see each other on a regular basis. The cousins are all close, and it's wonderful for everyone.
As much as we love them, we didn't want to live there. Financially, with DH's career field, we just couldn't live there.
So one day, out of the blue, DH suggested that we think about moving to the south so our children could grow up with their grandparents and extended family involved in their lives. Very involved...since we ended up building a house in the same subdivision as my parents (and my grandfather and his wife, who lived here for a short time). Move to the south? Me?
So, to make an already too-long story somewhat short, I took a long shot and applied for a federal job down here. I did a telephone interview and then a VTC interview and was hired. And that was all there was to it. I left a job I had loved for 10 years and moved by myself with two children across the country...almost as far away from Anchorage, AK as one can get and still be in the continental US. DH stayed behind to sell our home and was able to visit for a few days and found a teaching job while he was here. My head was spinning from everything happening so fast.
That was several years ago, and we're still here. I dream of going back to Anchorage. When my sister moved back there this summer I was green with envy. She's invited us to visit this summer and while it doesn't look good, I'm praying that I can find a way to make it work out. I miss it so much. Growing up in the military, I never knew what it was like to feel an almost physical attachment to a place. I do now. It used to be that I didn't have an answer when someone asked where I was from. "Standard Air Force issue," I would say. I'm not from anywhere.
Not anymore. I'm from Alaska. They say you either love Alaska or you hate it. There is no in between. I may live in the south, but my heart belongs to Alaska. Does that mean I'm not happy here? Not at all. I can be happy anywhere, as long as I am with my family. But that doesn't mean I can't miss those long summer days...seeing the moose in my back yard eating the trees...driving up to Alyeska along the ocean...sometimes seeing beluga whales...even the long, dark winter days...I miss it.
I live in the south. Never in a million years did I expect to live in the south. Not me. Not that I didn't dream about being Scarlett O'Hara (no jokes or comments, please!) when I was younger. I'll even admit to dressing as a "Southern Belle" for Halloween two years in a row (you can get away with that when you go to 3 different high schools in four years). I just just never expected to live here. I grew up in a military family and the only assignment my Dad ever had in the eastern US was his first assignment in Illinois. Other than that, we lived out west...and mostly in California.
Thanks to the USAF, we ended up in Anchorage, Alaska. Although I'm not an outdoors person by any stretch of the imagination (you can quit laughing now), I loved it there. I absolutely loved it. Something about being so close to incredibly majestic mountains...the Northern Lights...the beauty of quiet winter snow...the quietness of not living in a city of fifty gazillion people...being able to literally see spring growth overnight...the people, the city, the culture...I loved it. I never wanted to leave. When my parents left, the plan was that they would move back to Anchorage after my Dad retired from the military. And so we stayed, awaiting their return.
And waiting. And waiting.
And then, the unthinkable happened. My parents moved to the south and they (my Mother, to be exact) decided that "they" (she) didn't want to move back to Alaska. Something about cold, dark, higher cost of living, having to travel by plane to get anywhere, being far away from family. Yeah, something like that. And they retired here. In the south. Where we had never lived before, and never even considered living.
DH served his mission in North Carolina and he had mentioned a few times that he would like to live in south someday. I never took him seriously. After all, I loved Alaska! Cross country ski trails just around the block from our house...gorgeous trees everywhere...the most beautiful, soft green grass you've ever seen... By this time we had two children and we knew that flying outside to visit family once each year just wasn't going to work for us. My family is very close, and DH's family is all very close. They all live within 30 minutes of each and see each other on a regular basis. The cousins are all close, and it's wonderful for everyone.
As much as we love them, we didn't want to live there. Financially, with DH's career field, we just couldn't live there.
So one day, out of the blue, DH suggested that we think about moving to the south so our children could grow up with their grandparents and extended family involved in their lives. Very involved...since we ended up building a house in the same subdivision as my parents (and my grandfather and his wife, who lived here for a short time). Move to the south? Me?
So, to make an already too-long story somewhat short, I took a long shot and applied for a federal job down here. I did a telephone interview and then a VTC interview and was hired. And that was all there was to it. I left a job I had loved for 10 years and moved by myself with two children across the country...almost as far away from Anchorage, AK as one can get and still be in the continental US. DH stayed behind to sell our home and was able to visit for a few days and found a teaching job while he was here. My head was spinning from everything happening so fast.
That was several years ago, and we're still here. I dream of going back to Anchorage. When my sister moved back there this summer I was green with envy. She's invited us to visit this summer and while it doesn't look good, I'm praying that I can find a way to make it work out. I miss it so much. Growing up in the military, I never knew what it was like to feel an almost physical attachment to a place. I do now. It used to be that I didn't have an answer when someone asked where I was from. "Standard Air Force issue," I would say. I'm not from anywhere.
Not anymore. I'm from Alaska. They say you either love Alaska or you hate it. There is no in between. I may live in the south, but my heart belongs to Alaska. Does that mean I'm not happy here? Not at all. I can be happy anywhere, as long as I am with my family. But that doesn't mean I can't miss those long summer days...seeing the moose in my back yard eating the trees...driving up to Alyeska along the ocean...sometimes seeing beluga whales...even the long, dark winter days...I miss it.
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