honest memories....

I often find my self 'Talking' to my mamaw. She passed away a few years ago, my mind cannot remember the date, as it cannot remember her birthday, I think I mourn the loss enough without remembering specific days to make it all the worse, so for this I am very glad. I remember losing other people, I remember their specific days, but I can't with you, it becomes a blur. I miss calling you and catching up, I miss laughing at my dad and you laughing at me, and telling me about things from when I was little. Or about my dad when he was my age, the fights he and Aunt Carolyn used to have (I think you said he broker her arm once or something) But now I can't remember the details, not without you hear. I remember each and every thing about your apartment, and I remember your old apartment and how wonderful I thought it was. You lived in the city, and I thought it was so wonderful and exotic.
I wish I could send you post cards now, and I will I could tell you all about what is happening, get your opinion and tell you my stresses. You were some how this wonderful source of secret holding, a bit of an independent party offering sound advice, a listening ear, and consistent loving. I remember at your funeral, Kelly (our family friend and pastor) asked for memories about you, I couldn't talk, I didn't say anything. There were so many wonderful fun memories spinning around in my head, but I couldn't share them. I think they ended up deciding to ask my cousins, the ones whom had always lived closer to you, they would surely have more memories. But when he shared them with the congregation he didn't mention you letting me actually take an egg and break it on the side walk because we concluded together that it was surely hot enough to fry an egg (it did nothing, just kind of sat there, and we laughed). He didn't talk about you scrubbing my hair so hard with your long nails as you washed it, or over watering my mom's benjamina ficus plant while we were away on holiday. He didn't mention your stories of Moody's goose or poking my stomach to find "empty" spots when I said I was full and simply could not eat anymore, you would find a spot. He didn't mention your consistent mix up of Jamie and I's names and how you used to sing Chantilly lace and the song with the moon hitting the sky and the big pizza pie. He didn't because I couldn't open my mouth. I remember them all daily though. I remember calling you at the end, and you being tired on the phone, I told you that you would get better again, that you would be fine... and I remember you telling me that you didn't think you would that time. It broke my heart, more than you would ever know. I wanted nothing more than to drive down and just hold you, I wanted to sit there with you and hang out, I wanted so bad for everything to go back to how it was, talking about dresses and silly stories and good food. Dad said I couldn't that I shouldn't, that he didn't want me to see you at that state, but I don't know that I will ever forgive myself for listening to him (probably the only time I will say that in my life).
You always took care of me, even when you were sick, I still remember feeling so horribly sick on my last visit with you. You laid me down and put a cool wash cloth on my head. You with your bald head and your long moo moo dress on. I listen to "At Last" by Etta James, and the tears fall. It is a bit of the emotional cutter in me, I know I will cry, not even cry but sob, but I still do it anyway, it is like a force that I cannot stop, it just helps me to feel a bit closer to you.
I wish you could have met Alex, you would love him, absolutely adore him. I can hear you now going on and on about him. I try to explain you to him, to share with him the love and passion  you had, but I can't just do you justice. In a way, I feel like he doesn't know all of me, or can't, not without knowing you. I wish you could hold my children, and give them your wonderful hugs and kisses, tease them and tell them the embarrassing stories from when I was little.
I know there is nothing I can do to bring you back, but I will continue to remember you every day, I will still cry at the thoughts of you. I will try not to because I am sure it isn't what you would want, but I am not strong enough not to.

Umbrella people

I would like to think few things annoy me, though, I would also like to be an honest person and am not sure this is so true. I think a lot of things probably annoy me, actually I know they do. The one that got me again today, is the umbrella people. That is my name for them at least, now, I am not against umbrellas at all, they come in very hand, especially in a city where rain (light, misty, somewhat also annoying rain) is a common happening. Though I am still a much bigger fan of the rain jacket and shoes. I personally think I have the best rain gear... the only thing missing is a trench coat, though I am in no rush to get this. I have the two most wonderful coats, one a black arc'teryx (if this means nothing to you... you need to know it, and check out more outdoor gear). The other is a wonderful Barbour (if this means nothing to you... traditional British brand that you really should be aware of!) It is a dark forrest green with the most wonderful pink rose liberty material. Then there is the oh so wonderful black hunter boots (with neoprene lining, for added warmth and comfort). I mean, really.... what else do you need. Ok, I do have an umbrella, though when I am carrying it, I refuse to be an... "umbrella" person.
You are probably asking yourself what exactly what an "Umbrella person" well, let me tell you. An Umbrella person is one of those annoying people whom seem to have no concept of how much room their umbrella takes up. These are the people whom run into you, or collide with others carrying umbrellas, or possibly worst, catch you in between them and another umbrella person. Ugh! If it is barely sprinkling, are you really so precious that you must have an umbrella? Are you made of sugar and oh so sweet where you just might melt? Ya, for some reason, I just don't think so... so put your umbrella away!
Anyway, there is my rant, I recommend everyone just get better rain gear so you don't have to carry around a big awkward tent around with you! :)

Rat Dog

As we have moved, we now move a little over a mile from the tube station, it is a nice, walk, no real harm. Though I have had a go at an ignorant man cycling behind me whom found the need to inform me that he liked the way my body moved or some bit of disgusting information, which I told him just that.... I believe my wording was something like, "You know what... you're sick." to which he replied something (no clue really what this was) and I asked politely, yet very firmly for him to please not speak to me. Though Alex still often walks down with Baxter to meet me, especially if it is night, or I will take a bus. After a colleague being mugged recently (not in this area, but still) and our bike being stolen (the old mountain bike... locked up outside, the cut the thick wire) I am more than happy to take his company. We have recently run out of the small bags that are attached to Bax's lead to pick up the poos he decides to deposit along walks. As he walked me home the other day he told me about his journey down to meet me, since he had forgotten to grab another bag, he decided to use a nearby leaf to cover it. After leaving the freshly laid poo... sealed off by leave he continued to walk only to encounter a group of kids, whom when they passed claimed that Baxter looked like a rat! ah, a rat! Are you kidding me... 1. he looks nothing like a rat, 2. daily we are stopped by people saying how cute he is and wanting to pet him 3. he makes everyone smile (other than this dumb girl apparently). He watched which way they walked, and had a slight laugh since it was in the direction of the poo bomb waiting to be detonated. He hoped karma would have the upper hand and give this snarky little girl a taste of Baxter's revenge. After him telling me this, I was annoyed, but there wasn't much to do about it. Baxter is for all intensive purposes... our child for the moment! He is our little pride and joy, the one we cuddle up with and snuggle for hours on end, he brings us laughter, joy, fear and the rest of the great spectrum of emotions that can be bestowed upon by such a small furry creature.  As we made our way home there was a group of kids leaning against a car, one doing something at a house. Again, with passing them the snarky girl boldly stepped up and claimed... "That dog looks like a rat!" Alex, the smart man he is, simply told them to get a life... me... the not so smart one at times, stepped up and asked them to repeat themselves stating.... excuse me multiple times. After Alex nugged me to continue on and be mature about the situation I couldn't help myself but to inform them that I didn't have time for uneducated people. 

My blood was boiling, I was like a child, asking for a fight or something, this group of "kids" could have taken both Alex and I on, and embarrassing to admit, but won.  Of course, nothing happened, we walked off, I was annoyed, irritated, and ready to yell at the little twerps the remainder of our journey home, coming up with come backs, many of which, as Alex pointed out would have taken far to long to say, though I still found them brilliant. Alex, was as always trying to tell me to calm down and forget about it. People still continue to stop us and oh and awe on how cute our little Bax man is... so, apparently the little hooligans were on their own with their mean thoughts! 

The power of Education...

Something that so many of us take for granted but is quite possibly one of the most valuable things in life, I am feeling a bit romantic at the moment, so I will dare to say only behind Love, passion, and a few of those other "fluffy" motivational type things. I am forever grateful for the education I have been provided with, not only University and post-graduate, though I am more thankful for these by many measures of the imagination. I enjoyed my early years of development at school, though like all kids, I had my rough times of teasing and wondering what spot I would be picked for the recess kick-ball game. As I was sitting on the train tonight on my way home, I began to realize in ways how my education has saved my life, and other ways that it really doesn't seem to make a difference. The main ways that these two come into play are flying and eating. This might not make sense to many, like I am sure a lot of my thoughts. Though... in this little head of mine it does. You see, I am not sure where, or when it happened for sure, some time around the middle school years, but something clicked and I went from the child who was not afraid to fly and had done it time after time to being so anti-flight that I missed a family vacation to Niagara Falls (I opted to stay in Oklahoma with family for some crazy reason) as well as force my mother into taking an amtrak train from Missouri to New York City, a journey that took the better part of several days. It was a fun trip, don't get me wrong, there was a lot of bonding, a large bag filled only with coloring books, dolls, games, etc... Regardless of the amount of education I have, the studies and evidence all point to the extreme safety of plane travel, I know that I am so much more likely to become injured or worse in my every day life, on the tube, walking down the street, so on and so on, but there is just some missing link where I cannot allow the greater knowledge I have received via so many mediums to penetrate into my thick scull and my nervous beating heart, and my anxious body when it comes time to close that cabin door and prepare for lift off. I currently have to holidays booked which involve air travel and a minimum of three more in the near booking future (ease of travel is one of the major perks to living in London). And at times the mere thought of walking down the gang way makes my body tingle in flight or fight mode (I usually tend to go with flight, and am ready to take off running... not flying!)

Though the opposite is said to be true of my education in another way, in a way, that I know has made my life much better, happier, stronger and quite possibly saved it. That is when it comes to eating. I like many girls, have struggled with the difficulties of a number of issues with food. Though I don't know the true route of these I do have estaminets and probably route causes, but that is not what I am writing about now. It is not something I think that I am fully over, and may possibly never been free of (though I am not sure how many women or people for that matter are in some way or another). I want to write about how the education of the extreme harm not giving my body proteins and nutrients would do to me, and my quality of life over the years. A lot of health problems come with being too thin, just as they do with being obese. Obviously if I were to have to choose, I would go with the thinner, but luckily I get to choose healthy, fit, and active. If it hadn't clicked and I wasn't able to put forth the education that I had received in this situation I would probably be in a far worse position, but that is not the case. I know the harmful effects, and am able to look to the future and know what I really want in life... and sleeping my life away while my body deteriorates is not one of them. I am beyond grateful for nutrition classes and the shock value of what things become when they go too far. Similar to drugs, I am grateful to know the full effects before I am so overly addicted, in over my head that I lose control of my life to forces other than myself. I don't know why my education allows itself to click in one area, but not the other, but I won't question it either, simply hope and pray that the wonders of physics clicks a bit more and soon to help my life out a little. 

Entitlement

Ah, Entitlement... what a loaded word. Though that is the only thing that springs to mind when time after time I see people receiving things, great things, good things... not really earned or deserved and not being grateful. I am so over it, I am sure (Actually... no, I know for certain) that I have had this attitude before and honestly, it disgusts me. I am not saying you need to be overly, obnoxiously grateful for each and everything, but realize how great it is that you have it, and gracefully accept gifts from people. I find myself being so grateful for everything these days! I do not think I have ever been so glad to receive the smallest thing in my life, I am sure  a lot of it is to do with the position I am now in, in life. We are fine, we are not suffering or starving, but it is so wonderful to receive someones generosity. For my birthday one of my dearest friends from home made such a difference in my day, my week, and close to my year (she sure helped my 27th year get started much, much better. Upon moving in to my new flat, before I got the key actually, I found a small parcel waiting for me. It contained, a cookbook of cupcakes (one of our favorite things to make together, some English pounds to go buy myself a few cupcakes (which I have yet to do, though I have the money set aside for just that!) along with a specific cupcake vendor that she has heard good things about, and a wonderfully sweet card. I am certain that she has no idea what a difference that made to me, but it did. To be so separated from family and friends and to feel that warmth of someone thinking and caring for me made such a huge difference. I am so tired of providing incentives and gifts at work (not only my current work but others in the past) and people simply not being grateful, people being apathetic or complaining about their receipt. I just want to shout at them sometimes, that they are receiving it... for doing their JOB! It is really nothing more than what they should be doing anyway, but they are receiving incentive. I think it is a lot to do with age, perceptive and standing. And I am sure, very much to do with how you were raised, I know I still find myself trying to learn when someone owes me something and when they do not. My parents, the wonderful parents they are spoiled me and wanted so much for everything to be wonderful and perfect in my world. To this point, when something would go wrong, someone my have hurt me or done me wrong or things just hadn't worked out... I was compensated, be that via a new toy, a treat, clothing... etc. I find myself now, when getting screwed over by say... a letting agent (Which I feel has happened semi- a lot lately, I feel as though they owe me something. Where in the real world, the sad truth is that they don't. There is no judge or governing body that is going to make someone whom I deem incompetent of doing their job purchase a cupcake for me or what have you, that is just not the real world. And as I do prefer my little dream world, where I am the center for it, that simply just isn't life, and it really isn't that much fun in the grand scheme of things.
So, now I am growing up, and the odd desire to need to have a budget, and to need to be concerned with money, and save and plan and organize, has come to fruition. We are grateful for things, I hope everything. I know much more appreciative of the chocolates and cookery we have received in the past few days from a family member visiting from Australia. I have become  more organized, more diligent, more concerned with getting the most out of everything, and having that everything be something organic, recycle-able, and good for both myself and my world!  I value random bits that people give me be it a soda, or a  bottle of dishwashing soap (though I guess I have not outgrown my picky nature that I am the most grateful if it is my selected kind... organic but not overpriced! :) ) I hope I continue to realize my fortune and everyone realizes how blessed they are and what a gift we each have in real life.

Traditions

I often wonder a lot about cultures, being that London is by far the most diverse city I have ever and will ever live. There is someone from every possible make up that you pass daily, if not work with. I wonder why people come here, what keeps them here, what their lives are like in their home countries. Is this life harder or easier for them? What about their living conditions are they as nice as they were accustomed to at home, worse, or on par? I have never realized how different growing up in the different cultures are, and never felt as though my up bringing, my overall pretty normal, average American years were so vastly different that so many others. There are simple things, every day things, that I took as the norm. and they weren't so for many many people. Not always in a sense of being fortunate or spoiled (which I know I was as well) but in the general aspect of culture. Things like holiday traditions, rite-of-passages, and thought processes are so specific to my culture, my nation and my experience. It is often that people seem to gasp at things I take to be normal. This might sound weird, as it seems odd to me sitting here typing it out... but things like Dying Easter eggs, Easter baskets, Trick-or-treating, carving pumpkins, Friday night football games, Cheerleading, prom... and the list goes on and on. Admit it (American people) ever once, did you think it was something special, something out of the ordinary to do any of those things? To partake in these were not any odd occurrence, they were everyday occurrences. Some of the concepts seem so odd to so many people, including my husband. And sadly he has been at the brunt of trying to figure them out with streams of tears coming through my eyes uttering bits of random holiday traditions that I have realized do not exist outside of the bubble of the USA. There was the great shedding of tears before we had left Missouri upon the great fear of not being able to locate a pumpkin patch in London... like the ever so wonderful husband he is, Alex comforted me and rushed to the computer to show multiple places that we would be able to buy a pumpkin. Then there is the more recent frustration with not being able to find my traditional Easter accompaniments. After breaking through the mumbles and the tears with this one, he finally got to the brunt of it and was baffled to what it was that was causing these tears, then we had to go over what I was actually mumbling on about... and I quote, "What exactly is an Easter Basket?" It has since been explained, he has been shown examples, but it still baffles me a bit that these are not things every kid grew up with. Here is wishing everyone a happy holiday season, regardless of your traditions, what you think of as normal and what you are celebrating. I hope you have all your desires and expectations met.

Thinking

I think a lot these days I realize, not that I always haven't.... but I find myself thinking about my thinking more. I Think of it in terms of writing, in terms of analyzing, in terms of sharing it. I have been told before that I think about things that others don't, I don't know if this is necessarily true, though I know for certain not all people think in the same patters and capacities. Lately one thing I find myself thinking on close to a daily basis, I want to find a way to study the statistics between the people whom continue to walk (or the left siders) against those whom stand on the right side. You see... I think there could be some severe differences between these two groups. My estimate is that there are several direct correlations between income levels and education levels possibly even happiness in life and stress as well as I am sure many others that I do not recall at the moment. Though I am sure the largest correlations would have something to do with if they were at work that day or not, if they were on holiday or living there. But, just say you separated those people into smaller groups, so everyone working was together and then you compared the people going to and from work whom were walking with those standing, as well as those whom were off with one another... then, that is where you might really make some ground. Like I said, who knows why I think these things, especially being that I am no longer directly in the fields of psychology or sociology but I do still find them quite interesting obviously.