If It Takes 10,000 Hours to Become an Expert…

You know there’s that famous Malcolm Gladwell “it takes 10,000 hours to become an expert at something” thing?

Well, here’s a partial list of things, which, by that criteria, I feel like I’m an expert in.

And I would peel 10,000 carrots… And I’ll probably peel 10,000 more.

Carrot peeling
Closing doors
Right-side outing socks
Flushing un-flushed toilets
Packing lunches
Embarrassing myself
Finding ways to say “no”
Avoiding making phone calls
Trying to figure out who benefits if the whole earth being a sphere thing was, indeed, a hoax.
Sleeping
Drinking wine
Putting fitted sheets on the wrong way first
Turning everything into a ‘lesson’
Reading
Making small talk
Typing
Refereeing arguments about socks
Dieting
Wasting time on FaceBook/Twitter
Drinking coffee
Extracting dirty underwear from dirty pants
Listening to stories about video games
Shouting “close your (fill in screen name here)!”
Studying

I close all these doors daily

Making sure the toilet seat is down before I pee
Crying
Growing a human being
Finding ways to read my book instead of having sex (KIDDING, HONEY!!)
Saying “I just sat down!”
Filling water glasses
Worrying
Wondering where the time went
Saying “I wonder where the time went.”
Cooking breakfast
and lunch
and dinner.
Obsessively checking a bank account
Fretting over credit card bills
Resenting the two above
Trying to find logic in places where logic does not exist

I do, I did, I will

Saying “I love you” (maybe not 10,000 hours, but surely 10,000 times)
Kissing
Being a mother
Being married
Writing
Hating what I write
Wearing my heart on my sleeve
Loving
Forgetting why I’m standing in a room
Forgetting what else should probably go on this list.

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The War on Christmas

#Breaking: As part of Operation Kringle, President Trump today ordered the deployment of the newly renamed 1st North Pole Battalion to an undisclosed mid-west location to monitor and protect the Koch Tree Farm, the nation’s largest supplier of Spruce and Fir trees.

President Trump today, speaking from a dais festooned with holly and ivy, declared the latest deployment the first step in the War on Christmas.

“Today, we will make America Merry Again!,” the president declared. “No one celebrates Christmas as bigly as The United States of America, no one, ok? It’s tremendous. So much Christmas-ing. You’re going to be sick of Christmas-ing there’ll be so much of it.”

The President was flanked by his advisors, all donned in gay apparel. One notable exception was vice-president Pence who was seeking conversion therapy from apparel he donned “too gay”.

“After eight years under the imposter Kwanza president, with his anti-American diversity and his sad policies, I’m here to tell you that Americans can once again have a holly jolly Christmas without fear of prostitution! What’s that?” he asked, “Oh, without fear of persecution!”

The President’s remarks were praised by his Attorney General, Jeffrey Sessions (who, despite  strong resemblance, insists there is no family relation to the Keebler Elf).

“They,” the president continued, “they want to come into our country and take Christmas away from us! With their dirty “Happy Holidays” and their foreign “Season’s Greetings”. It’s everywhere you look,” the president shouted into the microphone. “It’s all over the cards. You go into a Wal-Mart, and what do you hear from the people working there?” he asked, “Happy Holidays,” the President appeared to mock the words, screwing his face and raising his hands, reminiscent of his mocking of a disabled reporter during the election campaign.

“No one, you hear me, no one is going to force you to say ‘Happy Holidays’ anymore!” the president shouted. At one point Trump, pausing in his speech, pointed to a speaker hanging in the corner. “You hear that, folks? If we can bring Christmas to Africa,” referring to the 1984 song Do they Know it’s Christmas playing, “we can bring Christmas back to the United States!”

AP Reuters later reported that the audience was stacked with paid supporters of the President.

At one point, appearing to go off-script Trump asked, “You know what you never hear?You never hear I’m Dreaming of a White Hanukkah, do you? Or It’s Beginning to look a lot like Kwanza. You never hear Rocking around the Menorah. You don’t hear any of those things, but them? Those people? Liberals and Pochahontas and devil-worshippers? They want to come in with their political correctness and make you sing songs about Three Kings Day. They want your kids to know that some people celebrate other holidays. Fake holidays! Not in this country! No. December is for Christmas. The rest? Fake holidays! Sad!”

The President went on, “I’m going to build a great, big, beautiful wall around Christmas. And newly elected Senator Moore over here from Alabama? Well, we’re putting him in charge of rounding up yon virgins. Mother and child.” The Presdient chuckled. “Look, between you and me,” the president said, winking at Moore, “the mother’s just there for show, right? He’s really just after the yon virgins. Hey Roy, did you know that ‘yon’ means ‘young’? I didn’t know that til my son-in-law told me. Very smart. Smartest kid in the room.”

Asked by pool reporters about the absence of mistletoe above the podium, the President replied, ‘Who needs mistletoe? When you’re a star, you can do whatever you want. You can grab ‘ by the pussy!” the president said, to laughter.

BBC News later reported that the raucous laughter was from a pre-recorded laugh track.

CNN reporter Jake Tapper asked the President if he saw any hypocrisy in celebrating the story of Joseph and Mary, Jewish refugees seeking shelter, while promoting his travel ban, which targets visitors from majority Muslim nations, including refugees seeking shelter. Trump decried the biblical story as fake news.

Later, when asked if the President viewed Jesus as a white-skinned, blue- eyed blonde, despite anthropological and historical evidence, press secretary Sarah Huckabee Sanders said, “This was all covered during the campaign. The President has made his opinions of Jesus known. He prefers to believe in the alternative bible. It is the President’s position that all other biblical scholars are liars.”

Trump ended his press conference with a bold promise.

“I pledge the full power and might of our great military to fight this war on the yuletide season. We shall go on to the end of the year. We shall fight them in the shopping malls, we shall fight them on the coffee cups, we shall fight them in the schools and in big-box retailers, we shall fight in the media; we shall never surrender, and we shall win. Bigly.”

During Huckabee-Sander’s Q&A session afterward, a Fox News reporter asked how the President was planning to celebrate the holiday.

“Alone in Mar-a-lago, counting his coins,” Huckabee Sanders said. “But in the spirit of Christmas, he shall choose one white boy-child to send a turkey to because in the US, white boy children are routinely oppressed and discriminated against. The President has pledged to bring turkey back to the forgotten Americans.”

“Would that be the same turkey he pardoned at Thanksgiving? the reporter followed up with Sanders.

“No comment,” the press secretary said before she walked off the stage.

When asked later for comments, critics of the President pointed to 68,540 studies showing that retail sales during the holiday season were up, and that, in actuality, there were zero actual instances of Christmas being banned, of Christians being denied the opportunity to wish anyone a Merry Christmas.

“No one is stopping anyone from celebrating Christmas,” said one critic who wished to remain anonymous for fear of reprisal.  “There are no Secret Nativity Police as is being reported in Breitbart,” she said. “There are no Tannenbaum Terrorists as Fox News is saying. In fact, the entire thing is made up. It started with a Starbucks cup. Now if you’ll excuse me,” she said, “I need to respond the President’s tweet that an army of Maccabees are marching on the White House armed with menorahs.” She paused.

“It’s not true, by the way. Oh, and Happy Holidays. Screw the President.”

 

Sorry I’ve Been A Shitty Friend: A Multiple Choice Form Letter

Dear (fill in name of friend here),

How are you? It’s been way too long, I know. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve thought of you and then said to myself, I should really (call/write/at least click like on your vacation photos) but I’m sure you know how it goes. No matter how organized I am, it seems like (life/the news/a hangover) is always getting in the way. It’s so true what they say. Time sure does have a habit of flying when you’re (procrastinating/bemoaning the state of humanity/binge watching Better Call Saul), doesn’t it?

Funny thing is, your name came up just the other day. Someone asked me, “Hey, how’s (fill in name of friend here)? (He’s/She’s) got to be almost (ready to move/ready to have a baby/done with school), right? And it really drove home how long it’s been since I (emailed/tweeted/tagged you in a photo)!

I’m so sorry I missed your (birthday/anniversary/relative’s funeral), I really have no excuse other than the fact that I am spending far too much time (arguing with strangers on the internet/drowning my sorrows in Pinot Noir/in the midst of an existential breakdown). Most days it seems all of my time is taken up by (numb shock/carpooling/debating the continued existence of humankind). I keep thinking things are going to settle down in the next few months, at least enough to (stop refreshing Twitter incessantly/clean my house/remember my kids birthdays), but who knows? Crazy world we live in, right??

And here we are half way through the year already! It seems like yesterday (the world was normal/school started/you moved). Time really does go by quickly. Did I say that already? Lol. Oh, God. I really have to stop using (texting/Snapchat/emoji) abbreviations before I lose all ability to (speak/reason/write) coherently!

But hey, (fill in name of friend), listen. You should know that despite how bad I’ve been at keeping in touch, I’m totally (stalking you on Instagram/following your exploits on FaceBook/relying on what my mom tells me). But it’s nice to get a (letter/email/social media comment longer than 140 characters) sometimes, isn’t it? Despite my (radio silence/passive aggressive comments/emoji reduction correspondence) I do think of you often and wonder how everyone’s doing.

So, in case you’re wondering, it’s not you! It’s (me/Brexit/Trump/Camus level existentialism). I really do feel bad about not keeping in touch, though. Honest!

Anyway, hope you’re all (well/sane/not contemplating the meaning of life from a ledge). Please keep me up to date. And let’s not let this long go by again!

All the best!

(Fill in your name here)

Nine (More) Expats You’ll Meet Abroad

Victoria the Veteran Victoria has seen generations of expats come…and go. She’s been around long enough that she’s practically part of the furniture. She knows her way around, navigating not only the place, but the relationships that make up the place. Vic has ten different toes dipped in ten different circles–because she knows just how fleeting expat friendships can be. Some think she’s ice-cold because the constant goodbyes don’t seem to faze her, but it’s more that years on the scene have hardened her….just a little.

Freak-out Frannie. Frannie finds it hard to breathe deep and…relax, no matter how many hot yoga classes she signs up for. It doesn’t matter how smooth things seem to be going, there’s always cause for a freak-out. If it’s not the math curriculum, it’s the school lunches. Or something on the news. Or the cost of living. Or the way the traffic light doesn’t give you enough time to cross. The local propensity for liberally dropping the f-bomb into conversation sends her into convulsions. Her heart’s in the right place–it’s just always beating too fast, set to semi-permanent outrage mode.

Homesick Harriet  Harry gets monthly parcels sent from home, keeps up all her magazine instructions at exorbitant prices, and subscribes to whatever local cable package that lets her watch her favorite shows. She travels home at every given opportunity and brings food back in her luggage. She shops online–from stores in her own country. First-year Freyas are usually half-Harriet by default, but true Harriets never really embrace living abroad, they always have one foot where they’re living and another one firmly planted at home.

Traveling Tony It’s a stretch to call Tony an expat, as he’s usually not in town long enough to sleep in his own bed more than three nights in a row. Tony usually heads up family of ‘lifeboat expats’–women and children only–who stay behind in one place while he plies his trade all over the globe. Sometimes it’s hard for Tony’s spouse to convince others he actually exists. Perhaps those wedding photos you see when you go to their amazingly furnished house are just props after all?

Never-Going-Back Niamh. Niamh, like many expats, was skeptical at first, but took to expat life like a fish outta the Atlantic and relocated to the Pacific. So much so that Niamh never plans on going back home. Ever. In fact, Niamh will do anything, including moving internationally three times in a year, just to avoid it. Whether it’s the life, the opportunities, or the bonds, Niamh has embraced life as expat to the fullest extent and you’ll have to pry it out of her cold, dead hands.

Repatriating Rena–While Niamh settles in for a life of transient relocation, Rena is getting ready to move home and experiencing the nausea of the repatriation rollercoaster. Whether she’s been gone one year or ten, life outside has made her question what life will like back ‘inside’. Will she re-fit in? Will her kids be ok? Rena’s worries often gets lost in the two-step expat shuffle because people assume going home is easier….but as Rena worries, it may be anything but.

Pam the Polyglot A round in Russian? Да! A stint in Shang-hai? 好! A post in Paraguay? Si! Pam picks up the local language wherever she lands–and not just enough to order a coffee and a cup of the Bolshoi borscht. Pam can carry on conversations with the locals, understand and answer when folks stop her on the street, and get around by taxi no problem. Pam’s linguistic gymnastics often make her English-speaking compatriots feel guilty for not trying harder-the ones who rely solely on their mother tongue to get by without making much of an effort beyond nej, tak…

Superiority Complex Sam Sam never has a good word to say about the place she’s landed. Not one. Oh sure, there’s nothing an expat coffee klatch likes more than a little bitch about little annoyances and cultural quirks, but Sam’s insults take a much broader focus. There’s nothing about her adopted country that suits her, everything is better where she comes from.

Fay the Fantasy Fay is the expat we all aspire to be…and fail miserably at. The one who settles in with ease. Who speaks the language within months. Who has no trouble finding the expensive cheese she likes at the market in Uruguay that doesn’t even sell cheese. She travels extensively, her kids are involved in local sports programs, and she still Skypes her family back home twice a week. She takes every shock that a new culture sends up her spine with a smile and can pack up her family and move at the drop of a hat. With grace. Fay doesn’t really exist outside our collective expat imagination–but it doesn’t stop us from wanting to be her anyway.

Since I penned  Nine Expats You’ll Meet Abroad a few years ago, and watched it circulate the globe itself, I’ve cycled through a few more of these stages myself. And some of these as well…Nine Expats You’ll Meet in a Galaxy Far, Far Away. As for where I am now…well, it depends on any given day, really.

More importantly though, which expat are you?