A Daring Adventure

(James Isn't) Going Postal

If you're the sort of person who is interested in trying to get/have/find a federal law enforcement Special Agent job, you don't have to go too far before you start hearing about how incredibly long it takes to get hired on with a federal law enforcement agency.


We're talking... a looooooooooooooong time, you guys.


So back in 2006 when James was first starting to try to go from DHS to something federal law-enforcement-y, he cast his job application net super duper wide.  It's what you have to do if you want to get on somewhere. This is because some places go through hiring freezes, or some places have their budgets cut, or some places only hire a dozen people every other year, or what have you.  Trying to get a federal law enforcement Special Agent job really is almost like playing the lottery. Some folks end up getting lucky; some don't.


So anyway, back to 2006 and James' wide net.  It includes lots of three-letter-non-word agencies, as it should.  He goes pretty far with one agency just to be told that they imposed a brand-new hiring freeze just as he was nearing the end.  He goes pretty far with another, just for them to lose his paperwork during a piece of the process. Talk about one bummer after another, and none of them his fault.


Time goes by.


Then, one day in January of 2008 his loud and obnoxious wife shows him the Special Agent position announcement that the State Department has just opened. And it sounds FABULOUS! (Yes, of course I am the heroine of this story: THIS IS MY BLOG.)  He fills out all the stuff and takes all the tests and passes everything on the first try (hello: HE IS AWESOME) and from the day he applied online to the day he is hired and officially starts training, only about eight months goes by (yes, he didn't even spend a single day on the Register, and yes, there was one, so eat your heart out).  TALK ABOUT FAST!  In federal law enforcement job land, years can go by just for *just one single step,* and yet here he is!  Hired! Start to finish in just about eight months!  It's literally like a dream come true!


So James goes to FLETC.  And he does a lot of pushups and runs a lot and stuff.  Or whatever they do there.  And one day, while he's at FLETC, his cell phone rings.  And it goes to voicemail, because he is busy in class or running or whatever.  But the person who called left a message, and the message is as follows:


"This is Special Agent So-and-So from the ATF.  We're pleased to offer you our next class as a Special Agent.  Please call me back so we can confirm."


Well, James hadn't heard a word from the ATF for so long he didn't even know he was still in the process with them. So he calls Special Agent So-and-So from the ATF back and says, Thanks, but I'm now with State and I'm at FLETC with them, so thank you but no thank you, I'm staying put with State.  


And the ATF guy literally is INCREDULOUS and tells my husband on the phone that NO ONE has EVER said NO to the ATF and he has to have James' no in writing because he just can't even believe he is being told no. Because, again, this never happens.


So James writes him or emails him or whatever (it's been a while so I can't recall which) telling him no in writing, and life goes on. 


Years pass.  James is happy as a clam with State and we burrow in.  And now we're in China.  As you know.


A couple of weeks ago, out of the clear blue nowhere, James gets an email sent to a very old personal email address.  CONGRATULATIONS, the email says to James and many other people, but YOU, LUCKY YOU have been selected to continue on with the Special Agent hiring process with the US Postal Service!  Be in Orlando in a week and bring (this freaking huge stack of original) documents with you and we will see you then!   


Things are very busy here in China and James is tired.  But amused.  And we both look at the email and James wonders aloud if and when he even applied to the Postal Service.  Do either of us even recall such a thing?


And we put our heads together and come up with our best estimation:  We suppose that he must have applied (or they wouldn't be emailing him?) and we suppose it therefore must have been circa 2006. And certainly he heard nothing since then, so we've both quite forgotten that he even submitted an application SIX. YEARS. AGO.  (I'm telling you... federal law enforcement job hiring can go veeeerrrrrryyyy slooooooooowly.)


James and I both forget about the email.  Because he sure isn't going to be in Orlando with his freaking huge stack of original documents on that date, that's why.  James tells some fellow DS folks here and there about the email and they all get a good chuckle out of the situation. 


A few days pass.  Then, again out of the clear blue nowhere James gets a PERSONALIZED email, this time from a Ms. So-and-So., THANKING HIM FOR HIS CONTINUED INTEREST IN A SPECIAL AGENT POSITION WITH THE U.S. POSTAL SERVICE (!!!!!) and directing him and his freaking huge stack of original documents to Orlando in three days.  And to call her with any questions.  James hadn't responded to the original widely-sent-out email, so they were reaching out again just to be sure, I guess.


James tries to call Ms. So-and-So, but it's, of course, not business hours in the US, so another day goes by.


Then James gets an email from Mr. Postal Service Special Agent Such-and-Such, and a few hours later he gets a VOICEMAIL from Mr. Postal Service Special Agent Such-and-Such (left on a very old phone number's voice mail), inquiring as to Orlando in two days and the freaking huge stack of aforementioned original documents.


So, yeah.  All that to say:  James didn't make it to Orlando and neither did his stack of documents.  Not that he would have gone, as he's quite happy where he is thankyouverymuch, but the whole thing is rather amusing.


So just in case you or a friend of yours ever hears rumors about how applying for a federal law enforcement Special Agent job can take a SERIOUSLY LONG TIME, now you know just how long it can actually take in reality!  Six years, my friend.  Six years from the opening up of a job announcement online until the job process begins.  That's not even from the opening of the announcement to the *hiring* for the position, that's just from opening the announcement to when the process BEGINS: six years.    


And that, you guys, is a long, loooooooooooooong time. 

It's A Darn Good Thing James Doesn't Pay Me a Salary

Because I would have had to have refunded it to him this week.  


No lie.


So, yeah, not only was this week the week James had to deal with things and stuff (ahem), but the day my blog was, um, not here was also Valentine's Day.  


And not only was the day my blog, um, wasn't here Valentine's Day, it was also Matthew's 18th Birthday.  Because Matthew is a Valentine's Day baby, that's why.  And nothing says Happy Birthday! and Happy Valentine's Day! like having to also deal with things and stuff on a day meant for birthdays and romance. 


Um, yeah.


So all of that stuff, above, would be grounds for me to have refunded James any and all Housewifely Salary he would have paid me for the week, had I been getting such an income.  (Which I don't. Not that I deserve any, of course.)  But then, oh, then, my friends, I proved and yet more worthless on that same fateful day.


Here's how.


You know how, when it's someone's birthday, and you're living in the United States, it actually really doesn't matter if the mother of the home is proficient in the kitchen because you can just go out to the grocery store or a bakery or Costco or Sam's or any number of zillions of places and buy a birthday cake?  That arguably tastes better than a homemade one because those sorts of stores add Glycoaminolacticgalactate and Red #40 and lard and all manner of stuff that actually tastes really good but that you wouldn't use at home?  With the end result being a scrumptious birthday cake that the mother of the home didn't have to bake herself?  And then all is well and the birthday is fabulous?  


Yeah.


So... they ain't got those cakes here.  Which meant that while my husband was off dealing with things and stuff, I was home tasked with baking and frosting a birthday cake for Matthew, who already doesn't really like being here anyway, and who doesn't really feel that it's a blessing to spend any random day here, let alone his 18th birthday, which comes along once in a lifetime, etc.


So I used a dear friend's layer cake recipe and somehow I eked out three round cake pans full of perfect, springy chocolate cake.  For a chocolate layer cake!  And I looked at the three round cake pans full of perfect, springy chocolate cake and my little heart swelled with pride, for BEHOLD!  Everyone knows that mixing and baking the cake is the hardest part!!  SUCCESS!!  I might have screwed everything else in the entire universe up, and my husband might be off dealing with things and stuff, but goshdarnit, I COULD BAKE A BIRTHDAY CAKE.


I had a box mix for the icing - no one screws up icing! - and I set about to whip the boxed icing.


I frosted the cake.  Then I picked out colors that were as manly as I could find them (you can't argue with a red, white and blue theme, especially for an Eagle Scout) and I wrote Matthew's name and "Happy 18th Birthday" on the cake.  I tossed around a few sprinkles just for additional flair and I stood back and admired my handiwork.  


I may have shed a few tears, because tears were flowing fast and thick that day anyway, and anyway I was making MY ADULT SON A BIRTHDAY CAKE, which is bound to make any mother weepy.  No joke.


I put the cake in the fridge and went on with my day, such as it was.  


A couple of hours later, just because I couldn't believe that I had actually accomplished something correctly and well, I pulled the cake out of the fridge just to gaze at it lovingly.  


And the moment I looked at it, it seemed to me that... the frosting and the writing on the cake sort of looked like they were... sliding off.  Was it my imagination?  Or did the end of Matthew's name sort of look like it was slowly falling off the side of the cake?  


I realized that something was wrong.  And I began to panic.  Because my family wasn't even there to see the cake that I had made (in what, at that exact moment, was as pretty as it would ever be), there was no time to make another one, and LORD HAVE MERCY, I CAN'T EVEN DO SOMETHING SIMPLE LIKE MAKE A BIRTHDAY CAKE.  


I decided to take a picture *then* so that at least I would have one somewhat decent shot of the birthday cake for posterity:





The afternoon passed by.  James got home from things and stuff, the boys got home from school, and we headed off to Tony Roma's (yes!  They have one of those here!  And it's real!) for a special birthday meal.


Each entree was roughly $50.  Yes, US dollars. Per person.  For ribs, corn, coleslaw, your choice of soup or side salad and bread on the table.   Which means that we got out of there for about $200.  


But 18th birthdays come only once, and we hardly ever go out to eat western food here.  And it made the birthday boy smile:





So it was money well spent.


By the time we got home and got around to doing cake, the frosting landslide was even more evident:





I can't even describe my sea of utter despair.  I mean, seriously.  Things and stuff and now the evidence that I can't even make a birthday cake for my son. The sad part is that the above picture really doesn't do the UTTER CAKE FAIL justice.  Here's another angle:





I mean, HOW HARD IS THIS?!?!  I wasn't even responsible for making the birthday dinner!  Just the cake!


The guys cut some cake and then used a spoon to sort of scoop up the frosting from around the sides in order to use it as a makeshift cake dip.  Lame, lame, lame.


The next day, the cake was so way worse:





I can't even make this up.  Tell me that cake doesn't look like death.  They continued to eat it, because even cakes that look like death are better than no cake at all here in China, but my shame and utter despair continued unabated.  I mean, just LOOK at this hideous thing:





It looks like it has mange or some sort of flesh-eating-bacteria issue.  Mercy.


And on that day, when I put away some groceries, I saw a package of locally-made hot dog buns that I had bought.  They were "Good Manufacture!" and got a big thumbs-up:





Which is a whole lot more than can be said for my son's pathetic melted birthday cake.


STAY-AT-HOME-MOM HOUSEWIFEY SKILLS FAIL.

Crazy and Wondrous Things To Behold

So you know how sometimes blogs disappear and then sometimes blogs reappear, sorta like magic? 


No? 


Well, now you do. 


But instead of chatting about magic blogs, which would be long and tedious and totally not even remotely funny, I say it's high time for some humor.  Because humor is fun!  And we so could use some fun around here.


Like, for example, does the chain of dentists that is scattered around Chengdu (and elsewhere around China, for all I know) know that the signs advertising their services can tend to bring about some rather impertinent remarks? 


For behold... Mr. Tang:  Professional in the Mouth:





Or how about this line of eyeglasses that can be found in many upscale eyeglass stores...


Behold... Helen Keller brand eyeglasses:





I don't know, you guys... I don't really see that brand doing too well in the U.S. market.  


Turning our attention toward food, know what snacks are so super yummy (I guess?) that they're in almost every store? 





Anyone for some Spicy Duck Tablets?  I could totally send you some. Because I like you, that's why.  And we have an abundance here!


In fact, here in China, you are much closer to your food.  Closer as in, you tend to be reminded that animal foods here have actually come from animals, as opposed to food in the US which is usually scoured and nearly un-recognizable as being animal-related.


But here?  Eggs come complete with feathers:






(And yes, those are *my* hideously ugly fingers.  They look like sausages.  I've always wanted ladylike fingers, like my Mom and all other women in this world, but I will never have them aside from maybe getting finger plastic surgery, which is probably expensive and super painful.)


And just in case you're not up for some Spicy Duck Tongue (I wonder how the pink package of Spicy Duck Tongue is different from the yellow package of Spicy Duck Tongue?), you can go down to this totally hip smoothie place where each and every one of their smoothies and teas comes complete with...


Top Quality Fructose Syrup:





Which I know is what each and every one of you is totally desperate for.


Oh, yes, my friends... we have all that AND MORE here in Chengdu.  I know, I know, you're jealous.

In Which The Whole EFM-Job-for-Me-Thing Comes to An End

Last you heard, it was Chinese New Year here and people were bombing the place. I am happy to report that Chinese New Year is now OVER (YAY!), and life here in Chengdu has gotten back to normal.  Which is totally awesome.  And I want to write about it - I really do - but I feel like I have one last EFM Job type of blog post I have to write for you guys before I can permanently move on to other topics. Forever.


Okay, so, on the EFM-Job-for-Me topic, the last you guys heard was that I had submitted my e-Quip on December the 1st (which is how one starts one's clearance process.  Mine was 33 pages... how long was yours?) and then didn't hear anything at all back about it.  And so I decided that I just couldn't take being at post and literally not having anything at all to do, so I started back to school doing something completely and totally non-State.  Because being at post without having anything at all to do is lonely.  And isolating.  And depressing.


Time went by.  It was getting into February without my having heard a single word about the clearance I had submitted on December 1st.  An irritating aspect of this is that I never ever - not EVER - got a single shred of paper or email or directions or instructions or anything at all that told me how to follow up about my clearance to check its progress or find out if everything was okay with it. 


And just in case anyone wants to be let into the real story behind the front door of our apartment, James and I went through some tense discussions about what we should do next.  Since I have now been through this horrible EFM job process, I am therefore very, very sympathetic to EFMs worldwide who are trying desperately to get jobs.  Because China and the US don't have a bilateral work agreement, I'm literally not allowed to work anywhere but the Consulate, so that just ups the emotional ante (never mind the fact that I trained at FSI for a whole year, UNPAID, in hopes of being able to get this job).  


And my opinion is that the fact that my husband is DS should not in any way benefit me as it relates to my job application process.  Because not all EFMs are married to DS, that's why.


So I wanted to refuse to let James "help" me figure out what was going on with my clearance.  And by "help" me, I mean that I initially refused to allow James to pass along to me the general email box email address for the clearance people in DC. If State wanted me to have that email address, I told him, then they could very well give it to me (or have given it to me) themselves. That it was absurd that I'm sitting at post five months after getting here, SEVEN months after being qualified for the job (the day I graduated from ConGen I was qualified for the job, since I had already passed Chinese) and not only had I not even been offered the job, I didn't even have any way to contact anyone in DC to ask about my clearance.  That all the other EFMs worldwide hoping for jobs weren't married to DS guys who happened to have been communicating with the clearance people for other reasons and could therefore pass their general email address along to their applicant wives who were in the dark about their own clearances.


James argued that the cobbler's wife may well go without shoes, but his wife wasn't going to go without a clearance update seeing as that he knew the general email box address of the clearance people and could give it to me.  That any and all active State applicants are SUPPOSED TO get this general email address during the clearance process, so his giving it to me isn't some sort of you're-sleeping-with-a-DS-Agent-advantage.  Both of us completely agreed that HIS directly asking anyone for an update about my clearance was COMPLETELY off the table, so the only thing left was for ME to ask.  He gave me the email address and basically told me FOR THE LOVE OF GOD to just email the people already and be done with it so we could move on.   


So I did.  I used the email address James gave me (if any EFM needs it, just email me. I'm happy to share!) and I wrote an email to the clearance people.  I provided my name, DOB, SSN, position for which I was being considered, current post, date I'd submitted my eQuip paperwork online, etc.  And then I waited for their update. 


Three days later, the clearance people in DC wrote me back.  This was literally what they said, word for word, verbatim, in their email to me:


"We have no record of you in our system.  Did you apply with the Department of State?"


Of course, I was thinking only in CAPS and italics.  And probably four-letter-words, to be perfectly honest.  For so long - SO LONG - I had pushed the chain that was this job and had come on my blog (and ranted and cried) and whined to my husband (and ranted and cried) and called my parents (and ranted and cried) and emailed my girlfriends (and ranted and cried), and this email from the clearance people was just the icing on the cake.


But then, after ranting and crying, I calmed down.  And I thought for a really long time.  


And I thought.


And I thought.


And during my thoughts, I faced reality.  


The reality, my friends, is that even if I re-started my clearance process now, in February, I wouldn't have my clearance until probably the fall.  If then.  Let's not forget that EFM clearances can take even up to eight months or more, I've heard, when you're overseas, which could put me into October or beyond, even.  Which would give me just nine or ten months left at post during which I could work before we would leave.  And during that short time, we'd also be taking a long R&R and getting ready to move.  And also, by then my FSI Chinese would be even more far gone than it is now (I've lost a ton of it), my oldest son would be in what may be his last year living in my home (he'll be a senior), and, even bigger than these issues, I would have to completely give up going to school in order to work full-time.  And I sure have liked being back in school.  


And during my thoughts, I also realized that maybe, just maybe, the reason why this whole EFM-employment-journey has been so horribly difficult for me has been because it wasn't meant to be.  You know, sometimes, when you want something really badly and you fight and claw and scratch for it and it doesn't happen - and you're mad and angry and furious - but then, later, you realize that it just wasn't meant to be?  Yeah.  Maybe that was what was going on here.  


So I said thank you, but I've decided to withdraw my name from consideration for the position.  

                                                   ~   ~   ~


I don't regret the journey.  Because, frustrating and painful though it has been every single step of the way, this last more-than-a-year of howling after the EFM job moon has also been powerfully instructive.  Language was torturous, and I don't think I'll ever use my score, but it showed me that I could still kick some serious booty in the classroom (I took the test a month early and got a better score than my target).  ConGen was interesting, and gave me some great insight into what goes on internationally with immigration law and what goes on in the Consular section of our Consulates and Embassies worldwide.  Trying to apply for an EFM job at post has shown me the realities of what EFMs face every day, and it is something that I don't believe I will ever seek again.  


So I'm moving forward.  I'm planning my online classes out through the rest of the time we have here in Chengdu.  I'm getting braver and venturing out into the community and doing things that I love doing and that feed my soul and my mind.  I'm finding my joy, and I hope and pray that other EFMs are finding theirs, also.  We are not alone - we have each other.  


And just in case any of you guys are wondering - I literally have no idea what went wrong with my clearance. Maybe it was never submitted to the people in DC.  Maybe it was actually submitted, but was never received by the people in DC.  Maybe it was both submitted to and received by the people in DC, and then subsequently lost or something.  I have no idea, and neither does James.  Neither of us has heard a single word about it. 


The only email or communication I have ever gotten from State about my clearance was the one I quoted to you, above.  And since I have withdrawn myself from consideration for the position, I'm sure I'll never hear anything further.  But it isn't too thrilling that, somewhere in the cyberspace-y universe (that is very vast), 33 pages of my PII are floating in limbo, and we have no idea who has all of that personal information about me.  It's the sort of thing that would keep DS-y sorts of folks awake at night, you know?  But some mysteries will never be solved, my friends, and this is probably one of them.  


And thus closes the final chapter of my quest for EFM job-y sorts of things.  Or even non-EFM job-y sorts of things, since I am no longer interested in trying to become an FSO. 


The end.