Uhhh...

I have no words for this.

"Thai"-ing to Cook

In an attempt to become a more interesting and well-rounded person, I have joined a Thai cooking class. The owner of Thai Basil in Chantilly holds her own cooking classes in the restaurant. There are 3 classes, each 3 hours long, and you learn to make 3 dishes in each class. Not only do you learn to make them, but at the end, you get to EAT them! All the dishes are items on the menu which makes it even more cool.

The teacher is Nongkran Daks who is a 60 something Thai lady that is probably just about the most hilarious thing I've ever seen. She's the Thai equivalent of the Soup Nazi crossed with a cute little bunny. She'll be telling you how to do things in her sweet little way, but once you ask one stupid question, it's off with your head! For instance, while learning to make mango sticky rice, a classmate innocently said, "So, can we just cook that rice in a rice cooker?"

"NO!!!!!!!!!!" screamed Nongkran, "You never use rice cooker! You use bamboo steamer! You buy next door!"

Apparently, Nongkran must be in cahoots with the Asian market next door to Thai Basil because her answer to everything was "You buy next door!"

At any rate, I've learned how to make a mean curry from scratch and some pretty bitchin pickles made from broccoli stems, daikon and carrots. We'll see if John is still alive after trying my first dish on Friday.

Mijoy

I often wonder how many people understand why I go by "Mijoy". Mijoy is the pairing of my first and middle name -- Michelle Joy. I always thought that my middle name was so ironic because I am not by definition a "joyous" person. My mother told me that when she was pregnant with me, she kept seeing the scripture that reads, "Joy comes in the morning." I was born in the morning, so she thought that the name was appropriate.

Whenever I have a birthday or special occassion, my mother always finds a card that has the word "Joy" in it. It always makes me feel good deep down that I'm a joy to at least SOMEONE. I guess by calling myself "Mijoy" I am trying to remind myself to be the joyous person that I was intended to be (at least according to my mother).

When I was in highschool, I drew this really stupid sign that said in really big letters, "SMILE!" I taped it to the top shelf so everytime I opened my locker, it would encourage me to try to smile and be nice to people. Maybe by tagging myself as Mijoy I am doing the same thing... trying to tell myself that I need to be joyous and nice to people. Even when I don't want to.

I was named Michelle after my parents' neighbor and good friend, Michael. He was killed by a drunk driver when my Mom was 7 months pregnant with me. Before that, I was going to be Roberta, after my grandfather Robert. I was always thankful that Michael spared his life so I would not have to live mine as Roberta. Michelle means "Who is like God?" which is just as fitting as Joy. If by fitting you mean not fitting.

My newest name, Peerenboom, is Dutch for pear tree. I always joke with John that I went from bad to worse with my last name. But I actually really like my new name. I always get a lot of comments on it and I enjoy explaining to people what it means. Besides, the name belongs to my husband, so why wouldn't I love it?

So I guess if you put all my names together, I'm a godlike joyous person that lives in a pear tree. I guess I have a lot to live up to.

A tree in Sedona that I stopped to shoot on our way to Vegas.

Recent trip to Rappahanock Cellars...

I want this...

http://www.mood-light.com/MLmovie.htm

Resumes

Isn't it sad that we can spend 5, 10, 15 years at a job and when we put it on a resume, it's reduced to a one paragraph synopsis? You can spend an entire year working on a project, putting every ounce of your soul into it, and when it goes on your resume, it's reduced to "Took lead in implementing multi-million dollar project".

It's even more sad that our entire lives have to be summed up in a few words on our headstones. "Beloved Mother" or "Cherished Husband" are the types of things I often see. My headstone will probably read, "IMA ENTJ." :)

Ok, How About This One?

http://www.sanyo.com/appliances/hello_kitty/index.cfm?productID=700

For Jamie...

http://www.wishingfish.com/toastrain.html

If I Told You, I'd Have to Kill You...

In the business that I'm in, I have to deal with all sorts of people with all different types of backgrounds. Not only do I have to submit people for clearances, but I have to counsel employees that get denied, I must inform employees when they fail polygraphs and I am responsible for reporting to the Defense Security Service every little thing that an employee does wrong. With this job, I learn very quickly that there are a lot of people out there that are unclearable. Which brings me to my recent revelation...

I bet only about 50% of our elected politicians could get a TS/SCI clearance and yet about 99% of them are privy to our nation's secrets. It doesn't make sense! Why do they get to have clearances just because they won a popularity contest? I think that after they are elected, all politicians should have to fill out an SF86, get fingerprinted and take a polygraph like the rest of our cleared citizens. And if they don't pass, they need to be kicked out of office.

Also, government contractors are required to drug test all incoming employees. Why aren't our politicians required to do the same? Why do congressmen and Presidents get to smoke crack on the job, but a Systems Analyst from SAIC can't?

I highly doubt if Bill Clinton or Marion Barry could pass a poly (or a drug test for that matter!)... but then again, I wonder what politician could?