Otanjoubi Omedetou Gozaimasu
My boss assigned me a writing assignment during my absence Thursday, thanks to the recommendation of my Good Friend Mike who saw that I'd won a writing award at Joint Forces Staff College, even though I didn't and tried to explain that the author of my training report had just cut and pasted comments from another guy's and failed to edit that part.
So I get to write about innovation and its role in our Theater Security Cooperation activities. In a day.
But I'd already planned on scoping out the O'Club for free linens and a place to hang out after my promotion, then host a brown-bag lunch with fellow space officers at DTRA just to talk shop (something a few of us had done at the Pentagon). By the time that and the next meeting were over, the Division Chief forcefully kicked everyone out of the office to get a head-start on the three-day celebration of James K. Polk (Mr. Fifty-Four-Forty or Fight, as I tried to explain to my branch members). No one in the office knew it was my birthday, which is fine; this ain't kindergarten.
Per my request, the family headed down to the Tokyo Japan Steak House, with Beth Boivin accompanying and Dad meeting us there. Ryan enjoyed the BIG FIRE again, the spinning, the cooking, the steam, the noise, the onion volcano. Even let the chef hit him in the face three times with tossed shrimp parts. And he especially enjoyed the "soup" (basically hot salt water). Erin, recovering from her ordeal at the clinic (shots), amazingly slept through the entire meal.
The family let it slip that it was my birthday, so they brought out a bowl of lavendar ice cream with a lit candle, while singing Happy Birthday and banging drums, bells, and sauce bowls together. They then had me stand up next to them and do a silly dance while singing it in Japanese, much to Ryan's open-mouth fascination (either at the words or Daddy Doing Shakira).
Back home to open tons of great presents, including coat hangers so I'd quit bitching about Mimaa and Grandpa using them all up when they visited, TWO copies of the movie "Nacho Libre" and a pack of Hula Hoops potato chips from Tim in England, before wolfing down some of my standard birthday 'cake'...pumpkin pie. Beth officially thinks I'm weird.
NaCHOOOOO!
So I get to write about innovation and its role in our Theater Security Cooperation activities. In a day.
But I'd already planned on scoping out the O'Club for free linens and a place to hang out after my promotion, then host a brown-bag lunch with fellow space officers at DTRA just to talk shop (something a few of us had done at the Pentagon). By the time that and the next meeting were over, the Division Chief forcefully kicked everyone out of the office to get a head-start on the three-day celebration of James K. Polk (Mr. Fifty-Four-Forty or Fight, as I tried to explain to my branch members). No one in the office knew it was my birthday, which is fine; this ain't kindergarten.
Per my request, the family headed down to the Tokyo Japan Steak House, with Beth Boivin accompanying and Dad meeting us there. Ryan enjoyed the BIG FIRE again, the spinning, the cooking, the steam, the noise, the onion volcano. Even let the chef hit him in the face three times with tossed shrimp parts. And he especially enjoyed the "soup" (basically hot salt water). Erin, recovering from her ordeal at the clinic (shots), amazingly slept through the entire meal.
The family let it slip that it was my birthday, so they brought out a bowl of lavendar ice cream with a lit candle, while singing Happy Birthday and banging drums, bells, and sauce bowls together. They then had me stand up next to them and do a silly dance while singing it in Japanese, much to Ryan's open-mouth fascination (either at the words or Daddy Doing Shakira).
Back home to open tons of great presents, including coat hangers so I'd quit bitching about Mimaa and Grandpa using them all up when they visited, TWO copies of the movie "Nacho Libre" and a pack of Hula Hoops potato chips from Tim in England, before wolfing down some of my standard birthday 'cake'...pumpkin pie. Beth officially thinks I'm weird.
NaCHOOOOO!
posted by Dan at 2:18 PM
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