Proof Positive

My mom has requested proof that I am alive.

I tease my mom about this, but if you'd been through what I put my mother through, you too would demand proof periodically.

Take, for instance, the "new job paperwork" that one must fill out for a job like this. You know how normal jobs have you fill out things like "emergency contact information" and "401k contribution" documents? WELL, when you take a job like mine, the paperwork is a little more surreal. You've got your standard, "emergency contact" forms, sure - but, you've also got, "Questions only you would know the answers to in case you are taken hostage" and "Distinguishing marks by which you could be identified in the event of [fill in the blank with any horrible possibility and you're on the right track]" and, my personal favorite, "Family Plan for managing media contact if you are taken hostage". HA HA HA - this ain't Edward Jones!

Anyway, because my mother indulges me in my galavanting, I can indulge her request for proof positive (notice the date stamp on the photo, please ... and that's my little niece, KiKi, on my computer screen saver in the background - isn't she cute! Good job on that one, sis) that I'm alive and kicking - and caring for my pet basil (c'mon, mom - who but me could come up with this crazy stuff?!?) in Afghanistan.

Next post: Less about me, I promise.