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Let me first just say that this entry breaks the length rule. But it’s necessary to tell the story properly. The last few months have introduced me to the extreme codependence of my employer. Extended days, working from home and a heightened amount of stress have outlined the last 60 to 90 days. I needed a vacation but it almost didn’t happen.

To bring the reader up to speed, I’m writing this while on vacaton. So everything has worked out. But it wasn’t without a little bit of a challenge. At one point, it really seemed like the universe had given us enough signs to give caution to going on this vacation. Let's talk about the signs and the drama just get to where I'm at right now. Lounging on a couch staring at Blackcomb.

SIGN #1:
Every weekend in July, I tried to take either a Monday or a Friday off to extend my weekend. After all we’re redoing the landscaping in our backyard and I needed to get some shit done before it started raining again. Needless to say, the first sign was that I never got a day off. And more importantly, I actually worked most of those weekends. This trend didn't bode well for getting a complete week off in August.

While my peeps at work were telling me to get away and my friends and family were warning me about my degrading attitude, I still felt the need from my management to nearly call off the vacation. Fortunately, I didn't. But things then got more interesting. Working nonstop limits how much you can prepare for your trip and how much you can session your DH bike given the fact that you’ll be heading to Whistler for some summer shredding. So I didn’t plan for anything except for making sure that our reservations were made at our condo. After all we’re buying the place.

SIGN #2:
Late one night at the end of July, I was sitting and playing a little bit of Lego Harry Potter when my wife came home from her family reunion dance. She had picked up the mail from the mail box and there was a little surprise in it for me. Jury summons for the week we were supposed to be on vacation. Are you kidding me? Not only can I not get a day off but now my government thinks I have civic duty to preempt my escape from the real world.

SIGN #3:
The Saturday before we needed to leave, we needed to gather up all of our international travel documents and pack our shit. That morning I pulled out the boys’ birth certificates and our passports. For some unknown reason, I opened them and took a peak. What the hell? They are both expired. Mine in April and my wife's in August. For a quick moment, I thought about just going and saying fuck it. But realistically I better try and fix this. Getting to fix an expired passport on a Saturday is a pain in the ass.

SIGN #4:
I found three companies that can expedite the process. I called all three. Two were closed and the third said if I could get my paperwork in by 1pm (it was currently 8am) they could have the new passports to us by Tuesday. Good plan in theory, but let's talk about the price of such a service. One day turnaround around was $299 per passport + $110 for the passport + $60 for the State Department to expedite the process. $470 per passport just to get them by Tuesday. It really started to look like we weren't going to go.

SIGN #5:
So we started thinking about alternative plans. We could get an enhanced drivers license. The DOL opened at 8:30am so we rushed to get out of the house and down to the local office. We got there and were greeted with approximately an hour wait. Finally our numbers were called and we stepped up to the desk. The whole process of getting an EDL is two phases. After an hour wait, we filled out paperwork, then waited another hour to finalize the paperwork and get our picture taken. The moment of truth was upon us, after we had our picture taken, we were handed our temporary paper EDLs and a punched WA DL. Then we were told that the temporary EDL couldn’t be used to cross the border.

SIGN #6:
We just wasted over two hours in our schedule and didn’t fix our travel dilemma. We knew that we still needed to renew our passports so it made sense to at least get our new passport pictures whether we expedited things or not. Secretly, I was really leaning toward doing it. I wanted this vacation. But after the DOL, we were pinched for time. The UPS store could help us with the pictures. We headed there and get our pictures taken. We waited for them print and were struck by another sign. My wife's printed but then the store ran out of photo paper and couldn't print mine.

SIGN #7:
The UPS store told us Walgreens across the street could help us. Over to Walgreens. We joked that if there was one more sign, we have to believe it wasn't meant to be. Walking in to the photo department of Walgreens there was an employee cussing and hitting a photo machine. We thought it would be funny if it was the machine that printed passport photos. It was. Needless to say, we eventually got my passport pictures and headed on our way. This last sign put us past the 1pm deadline and we began to believe that the trip wasn't going to happen.

There was still one last thing to do. Call the border. I wanted to be sure that we could or couldn't get into Canada and then return to the US with the cornucopia of documents. Believe it or not, we were able to get a hold of US Customs. Two officers confirmed that if we could prove our citizenship, there’d be no way they’d refuse us entry into our homeland. We felt like we had enough and the officers agreed. Now to call Canada. Go figure, we found only one number for Canada and they were closed on Saturday. So we called US Customs again and asked if they had a phone number for their counter pas. Interestingly, the officer said that Canada wouldn't care and to go for it.

Not strong enough of an answer. My in-laws were in Canada during this. Out of support, they asked the front desk of the hotel about required documents. The front desk said a passport was required to enter and exit Canada. This was consistent with the WHTI. But they weren’t done there. They also asked Canadian customs. It was determined that to enter Canada, as a US citizen, you only need a birth certificate and a picture ID to get in. But it really comes down to individual border officers and their attitude. Catch one on a bad day and you could be stuck.

SIGN #8:
So really, it came down to a gut check. Do we feel comfortable loading everything up, heading to the border, and tempting fate for an answer? It had seemed that the universe didn't want us to go. We slept on it and intended on getting up on Sunday morning and making a decision. Well I got up, everyone else slept in. At about 9am after counsel from a friend and then from my mother, it seemed like I needed one more sign and that could only be read at the Canadian border. So we loaded up and left three hours later than I had hoped.

With the all ready heightened level of anxiety about the impending lack of appropriate paperwork and the overall anticipation of an awkward border conversation, we encounter a wicked web of traffic in both the Renton and Everett areas which bring our trip to an abrupt halt. Is this traffic jam another sign that we are choosing to avoid? We acknowledge it and patiently move on knowing that the true test of the conviction of the universe and its animosity toward our vacation waits only miles away.

When we got to the border we realized that the entire state of Washington was there too. And apparently, all of these drivers want to be in my lane. So there we are, waiting to plead our case with a Canadian border agent with expired and temporary documentation, unwillingly letting people pull in front of us due to their lack of driving skill, and secretly hoping for approved passage into the Great White North.

The suspense of waiting while talking to the border agent was petrifying. But after a few simple questions about firearms and pepper spray, we moved on into Canada. We made it. So tempting fate and taking the 150 mile leap of faith for possible disappointment and the potential unfortunate chance of being Debby downer and becoming an absolute ass to my family if this would have been an unsuccessful journey was worth it.

We kept on driving and eventually made it in decent time considering our late start. We only had one melt down by Son #2 as well. About 25 km from whistler (keeping it metric because we're in Canada) he just lost it. He was done with driving and wanted out of the car. Needless to say it was the longest and loudest 25 km of my life.

The whole process made picking up our condo keys that much more meaningful. The literal and figurative journeys were full of land mines and potential disappointments. Apparently, you got to work for what you want even when all signs would indicate disappointment. That's not to say this works in all situations. But I will say that I’m glad we stuck with it and took the chance.

The next big challenge is leaving the peace of this place and journeying back to the US border. Without proper documentation, who knows what can happen. We could be trapped here. I guess I better get a Canadian tuxedo so I can fit in.

UPDATE:
After an uneventful southbound trip to the US Border, we were greeted with only a 60 minute wait. In actuality, we hit the border at the right time by chance. Additionally, we hit the correct lane for coming back too. The US Border officer was pleasant and let us through despite our expired passports and temporary driver’s licenses. She actually said, “Welcome home” as we passed through. Despite all of the signs which appeared to be negative, we were able to have our vacation, I shredded the mountain, and we were able to get back to our homeland with no stress and anxiety; all with the incorrect paperwork. Here’s to breaking the rules and taking chances.

The procurement of our new residence has been much more atypical this time around when compared to our last two home purchases. I would guess some of that has to do with being older, more mature, or just more of a jack ass. In any event, we went in this relocation process with a different attitude than the last two.

Let’s recap the history of how my wife and I engage real estate. The first place we bought in 2003 involved a shrewd middle aged female realtor. My wife, who didn’t have that title during this history lesson, and I were strolling around downtown Long Beach looking for a new place to rent. She and I had worn out our welcome at the shack which a friend and I rented in Long Beach. Apparently, it was time to stop living like a college kid. While walking around the Snoop Dogg’s neighborhood, we saw this not-so-engaging sign with the realtor’s disenfranchised mug on it. We thought, “Maybe we should buy something instead of renting.”

We were no where near a financial readiness to comply with such a commitment but we did it anyway. The long and short of this story is that we had little cash, cold called the realtor, looked at four properties, and bought the last one we looked at. I borrowed money out of my 401K for the down payment and we made it work. Our first home purchase, an impulse buy. And it worked, we bought low, sold high and subsidized our next home purchase significantly.

The second purchase was significantly different. The major difference in that purchase was my wife, who was now my wife, stayed behind in Long Beach while I found a job in Seattle and relocated without her. So we shopped by correspondence. I physically looked at 1,000,000 houses. Okay, maybe not that many. But I guarantee it was quite a few more than four homes like the first purchase. This agent was recommended by family. It was a better experience and I felt a little more educated and less pressured to ‘get my shit together’ like the first deal.

We looked at new, old, sheds, tents, shanties, and lean-to’s. Everything. Ultimately, we settled on new construction that was barely even framing when we found it. We were able to customize it. This was a far cry from the mid-80’s place in Long Beach. When my wife relocated, we got into contract and this new structure became our home. Similar to the LBC, we bought low and lived there as house prices soared in Seattle and enjoyed the mammoth amount of appreciation.

Then everything changed. The economy went down like a $2 hooker. We lost a lot of equity over the last year in that house. Despite the unfortunate turn of fate, we still were forced to make future altering decisions. Son #1 was heading off to kindergarten. The school district where the house was built had been great. Then, the city of Renton annexed the area. The new district sucked balls. We had to move in a rough, yet improving, economy.

To make things more complicated, we chose to sell this home outright and wait and see if we could find our dream home. This gave us the greatest financial leverage while exposing us to the most risk of being homeless. After a period of time which tested the miniscule amount of patience I had, our home sold. Not nearly the windfall from our last home. We made a tenth of the net proceeds that we received in the Long Beach sale. Suck. Because of the lack of a contingency, we got stuck renting an apartment while we continued to look for our next home.

And then, a foreclosed property came on the market. We looked once. We looked twice. Then we low-balled an offer to the East Coast bank which owned the property. The process of dealing with a bank owned property is nothing short of annoying and slower than watching grass grow in winter. After an offer, a counter offer, a counter to the counter offer, and a counter to the counter of the counter offer, and three weeks had passed, we were in contract for our next home. Inspection, appraisal, and waiting. We were told that the bank would tell us to pound sand if we found anything wrong with the property short of the roof sliding off or the spontaneous combustion of the siding. None of that existed so we were locked in and waiting for the close of the house. And that’s where it gets more interesting.


Our closing date was the day after our annual visit to the Mecca of downhill mountain biking, Whistler. Being out of the country makes it difficult to sign your closing paperwork. To counter our absence, the title company called to set up an appointment for signing the documents before we left the country. It’s a national company with no local office, so they offered me the ‘convenience’ of having a mobile Notary bring me the paperwork. Let me just say this; the mobile Notary was the biggest joke and most unprepared professional I’ve ever encountered.

Not only was she late, she was one and a half hours late, in disarray, and brought her disrespectful 11 year old son. She shows up, marches in, doesn’t shake my hand or offer an apology, and allows her son to plop down on our couch and launch On-Demand in search for his preferred programming. What the Hell? She then has the nerve to try to convince us that her creepy son can entertain our children


More excuses. The documents at the last signing were incorrect. Her printer broke and she had to go to Kinkos. Whatever. She clearly hadn’t looked at our documents before this. She thought we were refinancing the shoebox apartment in Renton we were living in despite the fact that the paperwork lists a 30 Year fixed loan on a property in Puyallup. Awesome. Page by page, she read the title of each sheet but couldn’t provide a description. I swear she was dyslexic based on here reading. Fortunately for me, I’ve been through this several times before and knew what to look for in the paperwork.

The Notary kept saying that there were forms missing and we would have to fix it before we left for Whistler. There was nothing missing. Keep up the good work, idiot. So I informed my realtor of the experience. Conveniently, the title company neglected to let him know the time of the signing so he didn’t get to experience it first hand. From what I understand, he had a ‘professional’ discussion with the escrow agent about their choice in notaries. I received a very apologetic voice message from the title company about it.



Despite the atypical process in this purchase and our experiences along the way, our loan funded Monday and the sale recorded with Pierce County. We are now proud owners of our new home in Puyallup. It feels good to have this chapter close and the next open. Now we just need to knock out the projects around the house we want completed before we move in at the end of September.

With our keys in hand, we dropped by our new home that was minutes old in our possession. It felt great to let the boys run the gauntlet of the rooms. This is it. The future. My groms will grow up here and become adults just minutes from where I grew up. And with any luck, they’ll move out and quit mooching off their mom and dad. In all seriousness, I'll miss the Renton house. It was our first house here in Washington after we lost family and our lives were shattered. We brought our two little babies home to it. Many, many memories. But our new home will be better.

And now for an angry non-conformist post….

There’s a policy at my place of employment which outlines that social networking should not be used to misrepresent the company. Every year we go through ridiculous training classes to remind us that the company doesn’t like social media and its employees disseminating information in an uncontrolled medium. So I’m hesitant to post anything here which may infer bad press. The idea here is for it to be a friendly reminder of ‘who’ owns you.

I’m fine with the training and the recommitment to ethics. I’m all for corporate morality and helping HR check off a box in an effort to successfully avoid litigation from some executive’s inescapable fall from grace. But what I’m not fine with is the hypocrisy of an enterprise which routinely reminds its employees of ‘doing the right thing and you will be recognized.’ Gone are the days where people did things for the greater company good. Instead, it’s the ‘me-first’ attitude. Granted, I’m seeing this from my knot-hole and such a broad generalization of culture is not necessarily true.

My general state of malaise comes from this over-arching re-organization happening in the workplace. It’s the corporate version of musical chairs. With corporate downsizing only barely in the rear view mirror, we’re now reorganizing with limited or no discussion of organizational strategy and goals to measure this new performance by. What do we hope to achieve with this? No answers. But we’re hiring like crazy and people are changing jobs at a frequency inversely proportional to Son #1 changing his chonies.

Before all of this transpired, I had grown increasingly uneasy with my job. I was under utilized, I wasn’t intellectually challenged, and my talents and experience were being swept under the proverbial rug. That being said, I took this position years ago to be an agent of change for the perception of the businessman (a tattooed freeride mountain biker CAN sell airplanes). While my position isn’t intellectually challenging, it’s hugely stressful and I’ve proven my abilities through my hard work, persistence, and work ethic that I can accomplish an inordinate amount of work with a limited amount of resource. I’m effective and play well in the corporate sandbox with others. However, despite all of that, my skills and talents routinely are lost in the position. It’s widely known that I want to try new intellectual challenges around the organization but apparently hard work and effectiveness are not wanted.

This has left me with little choice but to consider moving on. The opportunities here are much more visible but are few and far between and heavily anchored in politics. Unfortunately for me, I don’t subscribe this level of bureaucracy. I’ve found over the last few months that hard work, persistence, leadership, and customer satisfaction are only a small part of the bureaucracy pie being served. The other annoying piece is that of self-promotion. I’m finding that the squeaky wheel gets the grease. The loudest and most gratuitously self promoting individuals earn the advancements. In my current position, I’m fighting perception of it being non-technical. Combine that with the lack of volume projecting how cool I am, all the sweet things I can do, and my kick ass designer suits, and I’ve been lost in the shuffle.


So as the cliché goes, if you can’t beat them, you might as well join them. Let’s not say I’m ‘falling in line’ with these blatant self promoters. What I’m doing is taking a proactive approach to a business condition which I can’t control. With a little control over the messaging about me, I’m able to shift perception. Truly, this is entirely out of my hands yet I can at least work towards a convincing level of commitment to my background and experience. Interestingly enough, I’m starting to see some positive results. Nothing has stuck yet and there are no new sure-things. But at least the message about my abilities is now being heard and being positively responded to.

Now back to your regularly scheduled posts with positivity. Ha.