A Daring Adventure

Another UAB ("Urcrates All Busted") Nightmare Comes out of Houston

But before I get to the UAB nightmare, thank you so much, everyone, for your well-wishes as I faced my first week of Chinese.  Hopefully, soon I'll be able to sit down and do justice to the Chinese class topic, but in this blog post I want to address something I feel is much more important.  (In short, the summary of this past week would be:  no sleep before midnight any day last week;  waking up at six a.m. every morning;  more homework than James (because my class goes faster!);  trying to do everything and falling way short;  sheer exhaustion;  pure joy at being included and having this opportunity.  Life is busy, but life is good.)


I wish life was as good right now for a dear friend of ours who just moved domestically from Houston to here (the FSI area).   She is a State Department co-worker of James', and yesterday (Saturday) her UAB (Unaccompanied Air Baggage, or:  "Urcrates All Busted") was delivered to her TDY apartment. 

She's a professional.  This means that she has all manner of professional clothing (slacks, shirts, jackets, skirts), shoes, accessories, etc.  She put these professional clothes (together with her other casual, nice, non-work clothes) in her UAB coming out of Houston about a week ago.

Only the same thing that happened to our family a couple of months ago when we moved from Houston to here happened to her:  her UAB was delivered to her in a far different state than when it was packed.  

With our family, one of our UAB crates was literally brought to us in pieces.  The "crate"  (translation:  big cardboard box)  had fallen apart and all of the stuff inside it had fallen out on the ground.  The clothes inside that "crate" that had fallen all over the ground were stuffed back inside the "crate" (big cardboard box) and were delivered to us filthy and gross - covered in dirt and mulch.  But at least, with us, it was the kids' dark clothing that had been roughed up and only a mixing bowl or two broke.  Our family didn't pursue any claim for reimbursement.


But for James' co-worker, when her UAB (from Houston to FSI) was delivered to her yesterday, her UAB "crate" (big cardboard box) had also busted open/apart, and all her clothes, shoes, etc. had fallen out, gotten ruined, and then all her ruined items had been stuffed back into the box.


She used her phone to take pictures during the UAB delivery.  They're blurry, but you can still tell that the box doesn't look as it should:



 


(Above:  Ripped cardboard box "crate"  with everything that had fallen out at one point stuffed randomly back inside.  Also, we just learned that our UAB items are *packed* like they will actually be flying, but then are actually shipped by truck.  So even though it's called UAB, when you're moving domestically your UAB is sent by truck!)


She sent me a picture of one of her ruined casual pieces of clothing - a white skirt:



 

(You can click on the picture to get it to enlarge - what I'd like to know is, what happened to this skirt?)


All her clothes look like this - her professional work clothes, her casual non-work clothes like this skirt, the whole thing.  Shoes are missing, etc.

So now she's faced with the task of trying to figure out what to do next.  She has private insurance through USAA, but I've heard that maybe USAA doesn't cover damage during transport like this - only total loss.  I hope that's not true.  Meanwhile, will State cover it?  Has anyone had this happen to them?  Can anyone offer advice? 


I've read some crazy stories (some on Livelines) about people's entire shipments of HHE being hijacked in foreign countries;  of HHE shipments being ruined by mold (sort of like what happened to Emily & Ben);  of consumables shipments being stolen, and other such craziness.  But what bothers me in this situation is that two UAB shipments coming out of Houston within a very small period of time were damaged/ruined.  What's up with that?!


Anyway, like I said, any advice for our dear friend would be most welcome.  She's looking at a HUGE task of professional/casual wardrobe replacement, and is wondering how to go about making the claims for the damaged items.  And how do we make sure this doesn't keep happening to other folks moving domestically out of Houston or elsewhere?   

Let's Talk Money: One Little Word Can SCREW STUFF UP, Y'ALL!

And I'm not kidding.


Okay, so there I was in the kitchen today, baking Emily's celebratory Chess Bars (I'll post the recipe in the comments section) and doing nothing much else in particular, when James called me and we had the following rather unpleasant conversation:


~  ~  ~



JAMES:

So get THIS.  You know those vouchers, right?



ME:

The vouchers?  The vouchers that you submitted from when we PCSed (moved) from Texas to DC and also from our househunting trip?  And spent all that money out of pocket for all those things?  And we were seeking reimbursement?



JAMES:

Yeah, THOSE vouchers. 



ME:

The vouchers that haven't been paid yet, right?  The ones that we were hoping would be paid last week?

JAMES:

Yeah, THOSE vouchers.  Well, turns out that my Orders were somehow written wrong, and the Voucher Payment People (okay, those weren't James' exact words, because he knows darn well who the Voucher Payment People are, but I don't remember stuff that techincal) CAN'T PAY MY VOUCHERS because there's ONE WORD on my Orders that's wrong. 



ME:

One word wrong?  On your Orders?  And because of that one word on your Orders that's wrong, your vouchers can't be paid? 



JAMES:

Yes. 



ME:

?!?!?!?!?!?!!?

What is the one wrong word?  What's going on??



JAMES:

Turns out, they didn't label you as a "Spouse" on my vouchers.  They labeled you only as an "EFM Adult" instead of as my wife, or "EFM Spouse."  And thus, they can't pay anything on the voucher claimed because of you.  Because according to my Orders, WE'RE NOT MARRIED.

ME:

And so - ???



JAMES:

And SO, my orders have to be changed so that you and I are MARRIED and so that I can resubmit my vouchers so that I can maybe then get reimbursed.



~  ~  ~

And so, there you have it, dear Readers.  James and I are not currently married (according to his Orders as written).  We have to get married on his Orders so that he can then have his vouchers paid.


Which is, actually, sort of fun.  We already sorta had a wedding this week; we got married on Facebook.  And, as everyone knows, unless a relationship is all public and stuff on Facebook, it's like it doesn't exist.  Or at least, that's what I've heard.  (I have to rely on hearsay, for I was never single and on Facebook at the same time.  Because I'm OLD.  I don't know if there was INTERNET before James and I got married.  Seriously.)


Now, I'm not complaining.  I'm honestly and truly not.  Because back when we were with the soul sucking evil demons, they wouldn't have even CONSIDERED helping us move.  In fact, they stuck James and me on opposite sides of the United States and wouldn't even let us see each other, and James never got so much as a penny for anything - not per diem or travel or relocation or anything.  Heck, those bastards didn't even let him take his own annual leave he had accrued in order to fly home (on our own dime, all the way) and visit his wife and children (over the course of the almost two years they kept him a prisoner).  So we know how bad BAD can be; there's a REASON why TSA sucks so royal (right, Skeptical Bureaucrat?).


But the reason why I'm blogging about this is because, before James got hired by State, I honestly and truly did not know just how much money families with State often have to float... or how often.  You're moving, you're in flux, you have to pay out of pocket sometimes for lots of things (probably with DS a lot more than as a regular FSO, but that's just an educated guess of mine), and I didn't really understand that very well.  James and I are not going to starve; all is well; the vouchers will get fixed at some point and paid - but if it could help anyone with this knowledge, I wanted the information to be out there. 


Because some of the expenses that are now in paperwork limbo are from August.  So, you know- it can sometimes be a while.

 

From the Daring Adventure (E)mail Bag, Part 1 (or: Beards, Motorcyles & Moving)

I've been really tickled by the amount of emailed questions I've gotten from folks who are in the process of being hired by State.  I'm always happy to try to help, since I still remember how difficult it was a few years ago when James was in the hiring process as a Special Agent with the Diplomatic Security Service (or "DS"). 


(NOTE:  The Diplomatic Security Service has a hiring announcement open right now, but only until August 27th!  Since this opens only once or twice a year, max, I just wanted to put that out there!  Best of luck to all of you applicants!  It's a great job - well worth braving the gauntlet that is the BEX.)

When James was being hired by State, we knew basically NOTHING about moving/assignments/anything.  Which is why I have a soft spot in my heart for folks who are being hired and have questions.


I figure - for every person who emails me questions, there have to be multiple others who would like to know the same information but are too shy to ask.  So here you go, a glimpse from the Daring Adventure (E)mail Bag...

~  ~  ~

Q:  I see that James has a full beard/goatee.  My husband is being hired as a Foreign Service Officer (FSO) for the State Department, and he has a beard.  Is he going to have to shave his beard for this job?

A:  When my husband was hired by State, he had a goatee.  Now, he's not a Generalist/ FSO, he's a Specialist with the folks who like to capture bad guys (like I said, above).  When James got hired and went to FLETC, during his multiple months there he was required to be completely clean-shaven.  (A picture from that time is what I use on my Facebook page, the badge of which is on this blog's right sidebar).  However, when he was finished with FLETC and even to this day, he has had facial hair that has ranged from a goatee again to a full blown beard (which is what he has today).

Since he's not an FSO, I can't speak with authority to the facial hair than an FSO is or is not allowed to have, however, I would imagine that if State didn't allow facial hair on their FSOs, they wouldn't allow it for their Specialists, either.  I hope someone corrects me in my comments box if I'm wrong!

~  ~  ~

Q:  You have said that you guys have had your closing costs from the sale of your home(s) reimbursed by State during your move(s).  Where is the written directive that covers this and how can the closing costs from the sale of my home be covered, too?


A:  Yes, when James was initially hired by State, we lived in Florida and owned a home.  BECAUSE (AND ONLY BECAUSE) JAMES WAS ALREADY A FEDERAL EMPLOYEE WHEN HE WAS HIRED BY STATE (I guess working for soul-sucking evil demons can come in handy sometimes), the closing costs from the sale of our pre-hire home were reimbursed by State.  Had James NOT already been a federal employee when State hired him, he would NOT have gotten this benefit. 


Also, know that in order for closing costs from the sale of a home to be reimbursed, you MUST be making a DOMESTIC MOVE (or: from one domestic post to another) that is OVER FIFTY MILES AWAY from where you already are/from one post to another. (This ends up excluding DC are to DC area post moves.) Thus, when we were hired out of Florida and moved to Houston, Texas initially, all of these requirements (current federal employee... domestic move over fifty miles away from the new assignment) were met.  Thus, we were reimbursed for our closing costs. (Also, just wanted to re-iterate that the reimbursement of closing costs doesn't count everything on the HUD sheet at closing.  For example, we were not reimbursed for the pro-rated property taxes.)


We just closed on our house in Texas a few days ago, and we will be reimbursed those closing costs, also, because we are PCSing (or Permanently Changing Station) from Texas to Washington DC for training that is longer than a year long (to prepare us for James' next post:  Chengdu, China).  It's a domestic move more than fifty miles away - we thus will get our closing costs reimbursed.  (Furthermore, you must ALWAYS have these benefits reflected on your orders, and you must sign a continuing service agreement with State.)


As far as the written documentation (FAMs or FTRs) for these...


- You can find the list of what is and is not reimbursed from the closing of a home at FTR (Federal Travel Regulations) 302-6;


- 14 FAM 630 covers Domestic Moves, and 14 FAM 632.2 covers the Residence Transaction Allowance.

~  ~  ~

Q:  I'm a new hire and I own a motorcycle.  Do you think that State will move my motorcycle?  (UPDATE:  This question is regarding a domestic-to-domestic move, and NOT a move overseas. In regards to a move overseas, please see this post's comments section!)


A:  Wow, what an interesting question!  Our family doesn't own a motorcycle, so we haven't had to ask about that.  But this question was so interesting to me that I asked our Moving Coordinator Dude about it. 


Our moving coordinator hadn't had anyone ask him about it, either, so he chewed on the question for a bit, and ended up surmising that the fluids could probably be drained from the motorcycle and then it could probably be crated and moved just like the family bicycles that James and I just had moved.  It would count against your HHE weight total (HHE is short, I think, for Household Effects), so bear in mind that we all, I believe, have a domestic move limit of 18,000 pounds of HHE allowance.  But that's a nice, large number.  Even our family of four didn't come close to our limit.

~  ~  ~

Q:  I saw on your last post that you guys came in under your weight for your UAB.  How is that calculated, and how does the use of your UAB allotment work? 


A:  This was the first move in which James and I used the UAB that we were allotted.  It just wasn't feasible to use it during our other moves, for various reasons, so we were both sort of biting our nails early this week during packout over how the UAB worked. 


While everyone in a domestic move situation (from what I understand) is allotted 18,000 pounds of HHE (or Household Effects... or "YOUR CRAP"), you are also allowed to get some of your crap somewhere faster than your HHE would otherwise ship it.  Your UAB allowance (Unaccompanied Air Baggage or "fast crap shipment") is actually calculated based upon the number of people in your family.  Basically, the employee is allotted 250 pounds of UAB, and each family member gets some weight added on.  Our family was allotted 700 pounds of UAB total.


James and I sort of squirreled away piles of we-would-like-to-have-this-sooner-rather-than-later crap in a corner of our home for immediate packout as UAB.  The UAB movers were actually from a different moving carrier than our HHE movers, and they arrived before the HHE movers did.  James and I had been conservative with our potential UAB crap pile, and when our initial UAB crap pile was wrapped/boxed, we had only set aside about 350 pounds, or half of our total allotment.

 

It was actually really interesting - the UAB mover guys wrapped our UAB crap, put it in boxes, and then had what almost looked like the scale people have in their bathrooms (but it was actually a commercial scale... just really small!) that they slid under the box to weigh the box.  That is how we knew, right then and there during packout, what our UAB weights were.


Once we found out that we had a lot more UAB allowance to play with, James and I started dashing around the house, grabbing more crap to go into the UAB.  By the time we were done, we were STILL under our allotment by 30 pounds.  WooHoo!

Packout, Day 1 (or: Did I Mention My Husband Should Probably be at the ER?)

Seriously... I kid you not.


The pool tried to kill my family.


It all happened yesterday.


Yesterday, all three of my guys were in the pool for the last time as a family.  There was a lot of this:

And there was a fair amount of this:








And, of course, there was a lot of this:

...You know, just the guys having fun together in and around the pool.


I had spent some time outside taking pictures of them with the camera (which is how come there are some to show you), and had gone inside because of something or other, when there was a knock at the back (pool) door.

It was Matthew.  With something new on his face:





As I watched, the top bump began to swell. 

So we put ice on it, and Matthew then looked like this:





Teenager holding ice on injured head.  Not the best memory for the last time to swim in the pool.

Matthew's bump continued to swell, but- you know - I've been the mom of boys for what is approaching two decades, and Matthew has pretty much, at this point, fractured every bone in his body at least once because, HELLO, the guy is fearless... so we knew Matthew's bump/scrapes would all be okay in the end. (Which they are.  They just look ugly, but aren't anything worse than that.)


(Or, you can all now just be certain that I am, in fact, a horrible mother.)


After requisite oohing and aahing over bump/scrapes on the teenaged head, I went back inside. 

Then there was another knock on the door.  The eleven-year-old is panting.  Breathless.


"Dad's really hurt!!"  he shouts at me.

Indeed, Dad had fallen.  Fallen - entirely - right on top of his ankle.  Across some of the rocks that surrounded the pool.  So it was James completely on top of ankle... on top of rocks.  He limped toward me, in obvious pain.

Initially, the injury looked only bloody and scrapy:

We figured:  cuts and scrapes and such.  Would be fine. 


However, it's almost 36 hours later, and his ankle has, at this point, swollen up nice and big and poofy.  You know, like how ankles look and act when they're more than just superficially scraped.  Still painful.  Still limping.


And this, of course, happened... now.  During packout.  Not really a lot of time to, you know, go hang out at an Emergency Room for multiple hours waiting for xrays and such.  So he's hobbling around, and we'll evaluate as we go along.  Packout will be done tomorrow afternoon/evening, and then we close on the house Wednesday morning.


All this to say:  Friends?  Family?  You know- the folks who are going to see us soon?  The teenager is looking pretty battered and my husband is limping/in pain and his ankle is swollen. 


The pool tried to kill them. 

Mercifully, it failed. 

But the good news is that they packed out our UAB today!  (UAB = "Unidentified Air Baggage" or "Unaccompanied Air Baggage" or something like that.  James and his injured ankle are asleep which is why I don't have its name right.  But it's the stuff that will get to Washington DC when we do, and not the stuff we have to wait a long time for.)  And we came - oh, get this! - UNDER our allotted UAB weight by 30 pounds!  We were allowed something like 700 pounds and we came in at 670.  So that's a happy thing.


So now we're hoping that James' swollen ankle is just... bumps and bruises. That he'll wake up tomorrow morning and all the swelling/pain will be - POOF! - gone!   Because if he doesn't, who knows when we'll be able to get him to an ER?  Certainly not anytime soon.

Ugh. I Hope No One Else Makes The Same Mistakes We Did.

James and I got back from Seattle recently, and yesterday was my husband's very last day ever at his office in Houston.

It was so sad. 

It's so hard to leave - there are some great folks here. 


And as James and I were talking about our time here in Houston, we realized that we both have powerful regrets.  I want to pass those on, in case someone else can learn from them.


When we first moved to Houston, we *KNEW* (Ha!) that this assignment was for two years.  We bought a house that desperately needed remodeling (the only way we could have a house in the area we do), and I proceeded to gut it and start over... slowly... going along as we could do it.  Because - we had all the time in the world!  (Ha!)


The house's remodel took a really loooooooooong time.  And then - all of a sudden - our FOR CERTAIN two year assignment was cut immediately in half.  And you know what?


During that whole year, while our house was destroyed in the remodel, we never had a single State person/family over to our home.  Not for dinner, not to swim... nothing.  Because, you know why?  We thought we had all the time in the world.  And I was embarrassed to have someone over (especially someone important like any coworker of my husband's) until the entire remodel was finished.  Who wants to have guests over when the guest bathroom is gutted?  (Etc.)

And now, here we are.  Yesterday was James' last day.  We pack out Monday morning.  We sell the house (that I just poured a YEAR of my life into) to the biggest jerks on the face of the planet on Wednesday.  Our time here is up... and we NEVER HAD ANYONE OVER.  We never... hosted.  We never... reached out. 


How tragically sad. 


We may never be assigned in the same city with some of these wonderful people Ever. Again. 


And so, please PLEASE don't do what we did.  Don't wait.  Don't put off the joy of meeting people.  NO ONE CARES if you're in an Oakwood apartment (they probably are, too!).  NO ONE CARES if your remodel isn't finished... or if your furniture isn't brand new... or if the dog (or baby) made a hole in your rug/wallpaper/table.


We're all working for State.  That means that all we're going to ever do is come and go.  Take the time that you have RIGHT. NOW. and dive into life, wherever you are.  You may think that you will be somewhere for a certain amount of time - but you don't know that for sure!  Don't powerfully regret all that you did not do when your assignment is suddenly up. 


Don't be like us.  This sucks. 

In Which Donna Gets what She Deserves

We got back to our under-contract-so-soon-to-not-be-owned-by-us-much-longer house in Houston, Texas a day or so ago.  All throughout the drive (and even the day we got back), our Buyers were royally toying with us and ticking us off. 


It might be because they're moving to Texas from Michigan.  From what I understand, all of Michigan is a buyer's market.  But our Buyers seemed to have been under the impression that our suburb here in Houston, Texas was a buyer's market, too.


Um, not so much.


So our Buyers had to be firmly skooled in the knowledge that, NO, you don't actually have ANY power or leverage in this relationship, thankyouverymuch... but like cranky little toddlers with no snackies and no nap, it took the message a while to sink in.  I think we're there now.


Needless, to say, there's been drama.  That and my mother-in-law is, as I write, at the airport and my husband is picking her up.  And James and I fly to Seattle tomorrow and will be there for 10 days (a training conference for him... all I had to do was arrange child care and buy the ticket to Seattle!  So I'm going, too!). 


All this to say (and back to this post's title)... it took me a bit before I realized that Donna had updated her blog recently. 


Huh. 


You know, Donna is an INSANELY talented writer.  And I've read her blog for YEARS now.  It's been foundational for me and for my family, together with Jill's blog and Jen's blog. 


But GOSH - in all the years I've been reading talented Donna's incredible blog, she's never... how to put this... written a story that was so desperately in need of... an Epilogue?  Or, at the very least... more details?   

And not to say that I am EVEN the sort of writer who could touch Donna's work... but right now, I just really feel like this one blog post of Donna's needed


MORE.
INFORMATION.


So I provided some in the Comments section.  And now the story feels just a little bit more complete. 


:)

~  ~  ~

P.S.  About my husband's Native American name ("Fits Crap in Minivan")...






Toldja. 


Dude - traveling with a family of four across the US to be in an Oakwood for three months?  You need a lot of STUFF.  So, packing that minivan to travel back to Texas was like playing Tetris in real life.  Because when this picture was taken, the man

Wasn't

EVEN

Done

Packing.


See the bag in the right hand corner of the picture?  More crap.

~  ~  ~

P.P.S.   Just in case anyone is interested, the following pictures are what one gets when two children finally get to swim in their own pool in a hot Texas summer... and their mother has her Nikon camera with her Nikkor 18-200mm lens on it.


Matthew:


















Zachary:












And Matthew again (his facial expressions in this set Crack. Me. Up!):


You have to hold your tongue just so...



He will totally murder me when he realizes this shot is on the internet. 




Wait.  Maybe this one was worse.





This next two shots are quite possibly my most favorite action shots I've ever taken -





I seriously LOVE this next shot:




Scalp meets water...





Zero points for polish or style... but ten points for zeal!