To prove that it was indeed the Marine Ball, here I am with two of my favorite Marines, Garett and Tyler:

And now it’s time to pack for vacation. We’ll be in Spain for the next week!

One of the Marines also dressed up like Elvis, stealing Shawn’s thunder. However, we quickly learned that it is every Ukrainian girl’s dream to have her photo taken with two Elvises, so Shawn spent a good portion of the evening posing with scantily-clad maids/angels/devils/etc. Score one for The King!

Shawn was in charge of planning this year’s Independence Day celebration at the Embassy, so the past few weeks have been a little stressful for him. In fact, last night I could tell he’d reached his limit when I found him staring off into space with this look that just said he was done. And I practically had to push him out the door to take Laika on her post-dinner walk. So I know he’ll just be glad when this evening is over. And he can sit back and pass the planning for next year off to some other junior officer. Ah, the circle of the Foreign Service life.

If you’re in America, enjoy the festivities. I’m sure I’ll stand out on our balcony to watch the fireworks when they inevitably go off around 11pm tonight. Why, you ask? Because it’s a summer night in Kyiv, silly. And fireworks and drunkenness (particularly in combination) are plentiful here.

That’s right. Eight years ago today we were busy gettin’ hitched. What can happen in 8 years? Here’s a rundown:

We’ve lived at 5 different addresses — and were homeless for about 5 months (by our own choice).

We’ve owned 3 cars.

We’ve had a total of 7 pets. (I have to admit, we had a little trouble even remembering the names of our hermit crabs. Either we did something wrong, or hermit crabs don’t live very long.)

Together, we’ve been employed at 13 different jobs. 6 for Jennifer and 7 for Shawn.

We’ve visited and/or lived in 12 foreign countries together.

And still counting…

But how? One theory is that there is a day in every devushka’s life when she wakes up and is suddenly, tragically, a babushka. Her stiletto thigh-high boots have been replaced with ankle-high nylons and plastic house slippers; her breasts have shifted much too close to her waist; her Louis Vuitton handbag is now a plastic shopping bag filled with miscellaneous garbage; and, of course, her overly-dyed bleach-blonde hair is now back to its natural brown, streaked with grey, and tucked in a trademark babushka scarf.

I bring this up because I was a little worried that today would be that day for me — I am now (*gulp*) 30-years-old. Granted, I would not call myself a devushka — in Ukrainian terms, I tend to dress more like a middle-aged mother of three (that is to say, sensibly) — so I didn’t expect my downfall to be quite as extreme, but I have been feeling as of late that this birthday is more than just a number. I know, I know, I’ve always said that I wouldn’t be one of those people who gets all freaked out about turning 30, but now it’s here and it’s a little worrisome. Not that I feel any older, really, it’s just that I thought I would have things a little more figured out by now. That I would “have my shit together” as they say. And let me tell you, mine is all over the place.

This last year has been a pretty rough one for me. It goes well beyond culture shock and into the realm of having to do some serious work re-defining myself. Not an easy thing. But I’m getting there — I’m feeling better about who I am, the decisions I make, and where (literally and figuratively) that takes me. I feel like I still have a long way to go, but since I didn’t get things together for this milestone, now I have nothing but time until the next one. I’m sure I’ll have it all figured out by then…right?

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Shawn and I spent the morning with these people (Ambassador Taylor, Mrs. Bush, President Bush, Doctor Taylor, and Secretary of State Rice if you’re having trouble with my darkish photo). Well, not exactly “spent the morning” - more like spent two and a half hours waiting and then spent 20 minutes of the morning. But it was pretty cool.

When it was my turn to meet the President, Shawn wanted me to ask if he was supporting Obama or Clinton, but I thought back to my etiquitte class and determined that it might not be…um, diplomatic. Instead, I was a little taken aback as he said, “Hey, how’re you doing?” Um. Good. Thanks. He seemed pretty laid back, which I guess isn’t too shocking. Shawn did note that he does the little shoulder shake when he laughs just like Jon Stewart’s impression of him.

So the visit is only a day and then they’re all off to the NATO Summit. I’ll be glad when it’s all over because Shawn has been working a crazy amount of overtime for the last few weeks. I cannot even begin to describe all the work that goes into an event like this. And all the details - it’s hard to even imagine. Shawn was pretty lucky, though, in that he got to do a fairly important job for the visit and work closely with Secretary Rice’s staff. So even though it’s been a lot of work, it seems like it’s been a good experience for him.

And a couple more photos from this morning:

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As we got ourselves ready to head downtown yesterday, I felt a little stressed. This felt like such a big day. Granted, Shawn had actually already been sworn in on his first day of training, so this was just for show. But now that we know where we’re going and have learned more about the Foreign Service, it just feels we’re involved in something so much greater than ourselves. And it’s a good feeling.

So we got all snazzed up in our suits, met my parents (who were in town for the event), and jumped on the Metro. Walking from the Foggy Bottom stop to the State Department, we started running into some of Shawn’s classmates and their families. There was definitely a general excitement - it felt almost like a graduation day. After we made it through security, we all gathered for a continental breakfast in the exhibition hall. It was good to meet the families of some of our new friends and a chance to practice doing introductions. (Have I mentioned yet how much I hate doing introductions?)

Finally it was time for us to go up to the Diplomatic Reception rooms on the eighth floor of the building. All I can say is that they were stunning. Even the restrooms were decorated with antiques. We saw the desk where Thomas Jefferson wrote the Declaration of Independence and across the room was the Treaty of Paris. Very impressive. There’s an amazing deck with a view of the entire National Mall. And the room where Shawn was actually sworn in (the Benjamin Franklin Room) had amazing columns and chandeliers.

After many photos were taken, it was time for the actual event to begin. There were several speeches given by various members of the training staff, Ambassadors, and the new Director General. Then members of Diplomatic Security began surrounding the room, which could only mean one thing: Secretary Rice was on her way. And then she entered the room…right next to where my parents and I were sitting!

I just remember thinking: “Wow, she’s a real person.” And she’s tiny. And she looks a lot better in person than on tv. I had expected her to enter the room and move directly to the podium with purpose, but as she entered, she looked around smiling, making eye contact with people and thanking us for our applause. She acted like, well, a real person.

As she spoke to the class and all of us, I felt so proud of Shawn and what he’s going to be doing. I was even more proud when she specifically mentioned that there was a former 9-1-1 dispatcher in the class (that’s Shawn!). The class stood to take the Oath of Office, led by Secretary Rice, then posed for a group photo with her, and it was all over.

At that point, emotions shifted from excitement to a little sadness. This was the last time Shawn’s class would all be in the same place. They might see each other around the Foreign Service Institute as they continue their training, but they might not. And some people will be heading overseas as soon as August. People milled around, not quite ready to leave. But from what I can tell, the Foreign Service community is a small one, and I’m confident that we’ll see everyone again some day.

The Field House is the smallest gymnasium I have ever seen and by the time everyone was in and settled, it was hot. Nervous chatter filled the room, along with the shouts of all the children playing in the back. We all found seat, although some of us were a little disappointed that family and friends were expected to sit in the back of the room and not with our spouses. Finally, right at 3pm, the post announcements began - no speeches like I expected, but I don’t think anyone in the room had any patience for that sort of thing.

I was sitting near the back of the room with three of the other wives that I’ve gotten to know quite well over the past few weeks. We took turns cheering for each other as well as the other people in the class that we’ve come to see as friends. Each time a flag was raised, people in the audience would call out the name of the country (in my mental state, the only two I could remember were Laos and Burma…not even Mexico!), then there would be silence until the name of the employee going to that post was announced. This was usually followed by a cheer from the employee, family member, or both and the employee jumped up and ran down the aisle to receive their flag and pose for a graduation-style photo with the class sponsor. Then they received their training schedule and departure date.

When the half-way point was announced, Shawn’s name hadn’t been called. When we reached the three-quarter point, it still hadn’t been called. At that point, I thought I might pass out…various body parts had been going numb for a while now and I was having to consciously remind myself to breathe. But finally, the Ukrainian flag was raised and Shawn’s name was called. I jumped up and shouted in disbelief that we actually got our number one post!

Most of the rest of the ceremony was a blur (although when my friend Christy’s husband got Buenos Aires - the number one bid in the class - her reaction woke us all out of whatever daze we were in). After all of the flags had been handed out, I could finally talk with Shawn and find out that our planned departure date is April 2007 and there will be hours and hours and hours of Russian language training before then.

The best part of Flag Day was the feeling of comaraderie among the group. I think it’s probably hard for people who haven’t gone through this experience to understand just how close this group has become in only six weeks. Everyone was bidding on the same posts, yet we were all genuinely happy to see where everyone ended up. And almost everyone was really happy with their assignment. There were a few tears, but I think that has to be expected when you consider the intensity of this lifestyle. I haven’t had my pre-post “breakdown” yet, but give me time - now I know I’ve got 10 months!