Tuesday, 12 March 2013
a visit
I don't think I have ever wanted to go... just be transported for a week or two so badly as I do now, to lovely jubly old London. If I could just wiggle my nose like Something from bewitched I would pop up in good ole London town... First I would probably stroll wherever I could find my friend Ilya, I know he would be on the adventure with me wherever I might go, We would then go to Twinings on the strand where I would hope to possibly surprise Natalia and visit Phil, Karen, Lucy, Mark and all of the wonderful people who are there, we could go to the sandwich shop around the corner, who's name escapes my memory.... i would choose tuna melt and it would of course be a sunny fabulous day where we would bask in the sun... I would go on to meet up with Karolina and Safina and tour whole foods kinsington, walk from there to Sloan street and buy baxter something from Mungo and Maud. Then we would go on to meet seriously every last person we love and adore at some shit but lovely up centrally, and hang out drink/ karaoke until we absolutely had to take a taxi home (Seema should know a great place). The next day Alex and I would some how make it to chili pepper jelly ( I can never get the name right) for breakfast, take a walk through the book shop and waitrose along with all the corner shops then pop into blue legume for a little dessert, before popping into jacks to get some cider to take back to Niall and David's where I assume we are staying..... where everyone could once again meet on the roof top garden and we could party until the sun came up. I must stop by the art shop in covent garden, cos on regent st., liberty, greensmiths, fortnum and mason, and hattchards and bond street! and another cocktail at the ritz and a run into cordings with ilya and see Chloe (whom I felt was my very first friend in London ever!) , churches on bond street.... make that everywhere on bond street, a mani - pedi with Desi wherever she recommends and whatever Lola says is the best new place in town. Catching up with Szabina and flat planet and Liberty with Kash, and trying to hold every list bit with me forever and ever until I can come back again......... I would do absolutely anything for this to be where I am going tomorrow... next week, anything... but I will wait, patiently, but I cannot wait to see you all again, so soon and soak up every last little bit of London that I can!
Friday, 7 December 2012
longing for a memory...
We have been here in Colorado for a few months now and are settling in well, we both have jobs and are making friends. The quality of life is amazing, there is little stress and so many of the things that we longed for in England. We can finally buy the appliances we want (I realise this sounds ridiculous, but it is a sign of settling.) I know that we made the right decision, I know that this is beyond right for us.
Though there is still a bit of impossible longing somewhere deep inside. It isn't that we moved from the "big city" as so many people around here to think it is. There are very few places we would even consider living back in the US and the roaring fork valley won... we moved here because of exactly what it is. It is slow paced, and adventurous, it is active and cultural. It is the biggest small city ( I'm not even sure if it can be considered a city, it's really more of a town) that that I know. What it isn't and what it can't be... is simply put London. I was far from enjoying my every moment there and realise I look back on it with only the fondest memories. It was the first that was really my own, our own. It was where Alex and I began to make a life for ourselves and even added the best puppy ever to our family. We conquered it together, truly!
London holds within it so much to me, things that cannot be explained. I miss the transport and the views, the cafes, the friends and how they are from all over the world! I miss the chaos and the calm, the passion and the apathy, roof top gardens and the parks... oh the parks be it sunbathing, picnicking, and drinking in them. I miss the culture of each borough and how individual and similar they all were. The beauty in the ordinary and the freedom to be. I miss being where all the magazines were focused on and what felt like the centre of the world. I miss Mo Farah and Paula Radcliffe, Fortnum and Mason, Liberty, and all that as there, all that was history. Oh, and I miss the ease of travel, the great sense of adventure with so many countries and continents all being so close.
These along with many other things are what I miss and thus what I remember. I don't remember the bad, which I am glad. I do force myself to recall the troubles and trials to remember why we left and acknowledge decisions made.
I miss London and cannot wait to go back and visit it along with all of our other favourite places but I am truly happy for our decision to live here.
Monday, 17 September 2012
Everything is bigger in... Texas, no... America!
We landed on U.S. soil and it didn't take long before we noticed some real size differences. As we were waiting on my parents to pick us up from the terminal (we arrived into Brooklyn via boat, the Queen Mary 2.) We knew there would be a bit of a delay but had no idea how long it would be. As I had an unrelenting headache and the start of hunger pains were starting to set in Alex set off to find relief from both. He shortly returned with: 1-diet, 1- tuna sandwich, 1- bottle of beer, 1- New York times, 2- pain relievers. Immediately I grab for the med's and coke to wash it down, the coke though didn't quite sit in my hand as I was used to, it was larger. No, he hadn't picked up some liter or sharing size or anything, it was the "normal" standard grab and go size. We began to eat some of the full meal size of tuna sandwich which we could happily share as Baxter tried to get in on the action too. We made our way to Missouri over a number of days with supersize meals, cars, drinks and I am sure many other things along the way.
Once back to Missouri we took upon an adventure to go grocery shopping with my mom. Here we were astounded by the supersize veggies, fruits packages and bundles of foods. My mom really only drinks decaf coffee, Alex has a ritual of caffeinated coffee every morning. So, while we were at the store she was sweet enough to pick up some full coffee for the house. She picked up a jug (yes, literally a jug) of coffee that was larger than my head. She then remarks that it used to be bigger and began searching for the larger container of coffee. Why on earth someone would need a larger container of coffee that was not a business was beyond us, though that is the norm here... lots of stuff, and big.
Once back to Missouri we took upon an adventure to go grocery shopping with my mom. Here we were astounded by the supersize veggies, fruits packages and bundles of foods. My mom really only drinks decaf coffee, Alex has a ritual of caffeinated coffee every morning. So, while we were at the store she was sweet enough to pick up some full coffee for the house. She picked up a jug (yes, literally a jug) of coffee that was larger than my head. She then remarks that it used to be bigger and began searching for the larger container of coffee. Why on earth someone would need a larger container of coffee that was not a business was beyond us, though that is the norm here... lots of stuff, and big.
Friday, 14 September 2012
Fresh Veggies
We have been hit with a few culture shocks since moving back to the U.S. I will later post as to why we moved back but also several of these instances on later posts but the one most on my mind at the moment is the overwhelming generosity and friendliness of the people here. I find myself being a bit of a cynic though have been fighting the urge to doubt the authenticity of some of the kindness but for the most part it seems pretty legitimate.
We stayed with some friends for the first week we were here, they have a garden and we have been beyond blessed with fresh vegetables straight out of the ground. They also have some cattle that they kill and sell once a year which they gave Alex some of the meat to try. Another girl that we have just met last week that lives in the building of lofts next to ours kindly dropped off Alex's hoodie that we left at their place during a party the other night along with a heaping back of fresh vegetables from her garden. We have been eating some wonderful dishes inspired by what we are receiving from very generous friends.
Other than that, the entire population almost seems to be on something in comparison to London. Everyone smiles, offers assistance and goes out of their way, to help make your day that little bit better. I have even tried to get mad about things. For example, someone is in our parking spot, we have a parking garage below our building with secure parking and assigned spots to coordinate with your loft. Someone has been in ours since we moved in. Granted it has only been 3 days now but it is annoying none the less. They first told us to park in guest parking though at times this has been full, forcing us to park in handicapped parking in fear of throwing the system off balance by taking someone else's individual assigned spot. I felt very uncomfortable about this and marched in to tell the guy whom we rented from that something must be done. He was not worried, "oh, just go ahead and park in 212." Today I see that there is a note on our car from 212, kindly asking us to move as they have moved in and need their spots. I again march in, beyond annoyed, as now I look like the bad guy and and ready to give this guy a piece of my mind. Again, he calmly says it was his mistake, he will apologize to them and that I was to park in 214. This would have not been the response I would have gotten in London, at least not from our letting agent or managing company.
I am slowly getting used to this new kind wonderful world, but things are looking pretty good!
We stayed with some friends for the first week we were here, they have a garden and we have been beyond blessed with fresh vegetables straight out of the ground. They also have some cattle that they kill and sell once a year which they gave Alex some of the meat to try. Another girl that we have just met last week that lives in the building of lofts next to ours kindly dropped off Alex's hoodie that we left at their place during a party the other night along with a heaping back of fresh vegetables from her garden. We have been eating some wonderful dishes inspired by what we are receiving from very generous friends.
Other than that, the entire population almost seems to be on something in comparison to London. Everyone smiles, offers assistance and goes out of their way, to help make your day that little bit better. I have even tried to get mad about things. For example, someone is in our parking spot, we have a parking garage below our building with secure parking and assigned spots to coordinate with your loft. Someone has been in ours since we moved in. Granted it has only been 3 days now but it is annoying none the less. They first told us to park in guest parking though at times this has been full, forcing us to park in handicapped parking in fear of throwing the system off balance by taking someone else's individual assigned spot. I felt very uncomfortable about this and marched in to tell the guy whom we rented from that something must be done. He was not worried, "oh, just go ahead and park in 212." Today I see that there is a note on our car from 212, kindly asking us to move as they have moved in and need their spots. I again march in, beyond annoyed, as now I look like the bad guy and and ready to give this guy a piece of my mind. Again, he calmly says it was his mistake, he will apologize to them and that I was to park in 214. This would have not been the response I would have gotten in London, at least not from our letting agent or managing company.
I am slowly getting used to this new kind wonderful world, but things are looking pretty good!
Saturday, 28 July 2012
Feelings building visions...
I have these visions. OK that sounds weird, but it's not as weird as that sounds.... I mean when I have some feelings I see some almost cartoon version of these feelings being acted out at times. There are really three main ones.
I remember the first, I had when I was younger... I grew up having two step brothers that lived far away, and though they often promised they seldom visited (at least that was my feeling, but I am not sure that it would have ever been enough, I craved their attention.) My dad was also gone often, he travelled with work and would be gone for month's at a time. He often came home by surprise which was sometimes wonderful and sometimes scary dependent upon the method of surprise. At this stage in my life I often envisioned one of these wonderful men in my life appearing down a street, me running toward them, them running toward me and a wonderful embrace with them picking me up and swinging me around. This happened, at least in my memory when I was between 8-12 probably, at least in my memory, but it was wonderful.
The one I seem to have more often than not is of someone pulling me by the feet, my face down, nails most likely dug into the floor/ground. There is probably some combination of kicking, screaming and tears. Though it is usually not all too dire as I know that the things that bring this feeling on are usually things I want but am scared of. It is what I see often before a flight, I don't remember if it was there before the move to London, but it sure is there now... daily.
I know that I want to move, I know that I am excited, but it is difficult to see that at times. I absolutely love London, beautiful, rainy, overcast, chaotic, diverse and unexplainable London. I have loathed and loved it in these two years and now that it is coming to an end I have very mixed feelings. I am very glad to say that there are not any days that I am at my breaking point, that I just can't wait to get out of here. This is for the best, as it would be a horrible feeling to leave hating London. Samuel Johnson speaks true, though I feel we are intellectual, and that is why it is time for us to leave, at least for now.
"Why, Sir, you find no man, at all intellectual, who is willing to leave London. No, Sir, when a man is tired of London, he is tired of life; for there is in London all that life can afford."
— Samuel Johnson
If you have not visited this wonderful city, like so many wonderful places you are truly missing out, though even at visiting, it depends how deeply you dive into the city to find the pieces that have grown the dearest to my heart. The places that remain on my list to go to again, after I go to them time and time again.
I remember the first, I had when I was younger... I grew up having two step brothers that lived far away, and though they often promised they seldom visited (at least that was my feeling, but I am not sure that it would have ever been enough, I craved their attention.) My dad was also gone often, he travelled with work and would be gone for month's at a time. He often came home by surprise which was sometimes wonderful and sometimes scary dependent upon the method of surprise. At this stage in my life I often envisioned one of these wonderful men in my life appearing down a street, me running toward them, them running toward me and a wonderful embrace with them picking me up and swinging me around. This happened, at least in my memory when I was between 8-12 probably, at least in my memory, but it was wonderful.
The one I seem to have more often than not is of someone pulling me by the feet, my face down, nails most likely dug into the floor/ground. There is probably some combination of kicking, screaming and tears. Though it is usually not all too dire as I know that the things that bring this feeling on are usually things I want but am scared of. It is what I see often before a flight, I don't remember if it was there before the move to London, but it sure is there now... daily.
I know that I want to move, I know that I am excited, but it is difficult to see that at times. I absolutely love London, beautiful, rainy, overcast, chaotic, diverse and unexplainable London. I have loathed and loved it in these two years and now that it is coming to an end I have very mixed feelings. I am very glad to say that there are not any days that I am at my breaking point, that I just can't wait to get out of here. This is for the best, as it would be a horrible feeling to leave hating London. Samuel Johnson speaks true, though I feel we are intellectual, and that is why it is time for us to leave, at least for now.
"Why, Sir, you find no man, at all intellectual, who is willing to leave London. No, Sir, when a man is tired of London, he is tired of life; for there is in London all that life can afford."
— Samuel Johnson
If you have not visited this wonderful city, like so many wonderful places you are truly missing out, though even at visiting, it depends how deeply you dive into the city to find the pieces that have grown the dearest to my heart. The places that remain on my list to go to again, after I go to them time and time again.
Wednesday, 13 June 2012
a long time since writing.
--another old one I found, wanted to share it though, this would be from January or February. ---
I haven't written in a long time, a really long time! I don't know why, I just haven't found the motivation to sit down and put my fingers to the keyboard. Dealing with a computer so much at work that is so frustrating and pathetic I don't have much of an urge to get onto it when I get home. A lot has happened since I last typed though, many thoughts and feelings, ups and downs. We have gone on holiday to Australia and ended up seeing a bit of Singapore due to an unfortunate illness.
I have been thinking a lot, though I am not sure if it is more than normal I am actually getting somewhere with it. You know, like those great revelations that feel like the something from oh, I don't know... the past 10, 15 or so years of your life has suddenly been explained. I have been seeing a "counsellor" if you will to help me figure out a few things, it has helped a lot, though most of it I really knew it is making me think of it in a different way. Cognitive behavioural therapy. I am beginning realise how hard I am on myself.
One of the problems I had, though I honestly didn't think it could be solved as it is something I remember dealing with from a young age was death. Though I am sure it is an uncomfortable topic for many, it causes weird little mini anxiety attacks in me. If I am lying, it forces me to sit, if not stand up sharply, quickly. If standing, I must pace around... there is a pattern or stream of thoughts that flutter themselves through my head and they are triggered from nothing, often times quite the opposite, from pure bliss this horrible pattern emerges. I have come a log way on dealing with it, and I am beginning to understand some of where it stems from.
We were watching a movie the other night, the beginners... very cute and quirky, I would recommend you watch it. The story goes back and forth between what is "now" and the time leading up to his father's death. The main character makes a statement, it is just after the hospice worker gives him the news that his father has passed away. He talks about how quick it all seems to happen after that. His father is a life loving man, and the main character (the son) ends up in a relationship that made me realise how much alive it is that I feel, how in love, and how inspired by every moment.
Through the part described I realised something, what hospice meant to me, and how horrible and unfair I felt life was. For those that don't know, my best friend growing up lost her mother when we were in the 6th grade. I remember seeing it all unfold from the headaches to the hospital visits to the treatments and then to hospice, the funeral and figuring out life afterwards. You like to think that the old age of 11 or whatever it is you are in the 6th grade that you know so much, but looking back I realise that the only person I had known to die before this point was my papaw, and I didn't have much of a relationship with him. That was not how life was supposed to go, you aren't supposed to grow up without a parent and in a nice way, I now realise how much the whole situation really just pissed me off. I was the supportive friend though, and then I was the supportive role again senior year when another good friend lost her mother, between the two during freshman year I lost a friend that was my age. Senior year also held with it saying goodbye to my grandfather only to move into uni where thankfully things stayed calm. In grad-school it was then my uncle and once I was "an adult" finally in the real world, it was my mamaw. I know I have spoken about her before, if not several of them.
I realise now how confused it left me, how unfair I saw life and what a distorted it left me that it was somehow normal to lose people early in life. I am slowly learning to realise though that it isn't.
I haven't written in a long time, a really long time! I don't know why, I just haven't found the motivation to sit down and put my fingers to the keyboard. Dealing with a computer so much at work that is so frustrating and pathetic I don't have much of an urge to get onto it when I get home. A lot has happened since I last typed though, many thoughts and feelings, ups and downs. We have gone on holiday to Australia and ended up seeing a bit of Singapore due to an unfortunate illness.
I have been thinking a lot, though I am not sure if it is more than normal I am actually getting somewhere with it. You know, like those great revelations that feel like the something from oh, I don't know... the past 10, 15 or so years of your life has suddenly been explained. I have been seeing a "counsellor" if you will to help me figure out a few things, it has helped a lot, though most of it I really knew it is making me think of it in a different way. Cognitive behavioural therapy. I am beginning realise how hard I am on myself.
One of the problems I had, though I honestly didn't think it could be solved as it is something I remember dealing with from a young age was death. Though I am sure it is an uncomfortable topic for many, it causes weird little mini anxiety attacks in me. If I am lying, it forces me to sit, if not stand up sharply, quickly. If standing, I must pace around... there is a pattern or stream of thoughts that flutter themselves through my head and they are triggered from nothing, often times quite the opposite, from pure bliss this horrible pattern emerges. I have come a log way on dealing with it, and I am beginning to understand some of where it stems from.
We were watching a movie the other night, the beginners... very cute and quirky, I would recommend you watch it. The story goes back and forth between what is "now" and the time leading up to his father's death. The main character makes a statement, it is just after the hospice worker gives him the news that his father has passed away. He talks about how quick it all seems to happen after that. His father is a life loving man, and the main character (the son) ends up in a relationship that made me realise how much alive it is that I feel, how in love, and how inspired by every moment.
Through the part described I realised something, what hospice meant to me, and how horrible and unfair I felt life was. For those that don't know, my best friend growing up lost her mother when we were in the 6th grade. I remember seeing it all unfold from the headaches to the hospital visits to the treatments and then to hospice, the funeral and figuring out life afterwards. You like to think that the old age of 11 or whatever it is you are in the 6th grade that you know so much, but looking back I realise that the only person I had known to die before this point was my papaw, and I didn't have much of a relationship with him. That was not how life was supposed to go, you aren't supposed to grow up without a parent and in a nice way, I now realise how much the whole situation really just pissed me off. I was the supportive friend though, and then I was the supportive role again senior year when another good friend lost her mother, between the two during freshman year I lost a friend that was my age. Senior year also held with it saying goodbye to my grandfather only to move into uni where thankfully things stayed calm. In grad-school it was then my uncle and once I was "an adult" finally in the real world, it was my mamaw. I know I have spoken about her before, if not several of them.
I realise now how confused it left me, how unfair I saw life and what a distorted it left me that it was somehow normal to lose people early in life. I am slowly learning to realise though that it isn't.
Christmas blues.
--Another old one I never published. --
I knew these days would come, the ones where Alex is at work and I am home alone. The previous two I have had were not too bad. Things have been looking up and they still are, I realise how fortunate I am to have so many things go right for me. I am so happy with so many things, I feel so comfortable in my own skin, and am in a wonderful happy relationship.
I am not sure why, but today was one of the most difficult I have had so far. Every facebook bleep that popped up from a friend brought me to tears. I was wrapping a few presents and couldn't stop thinking about my mom and I's annual Christmas shopping trip to Kansas City, the lights and bonding. I couldn't help but think of Christmas morning, and my parents, half-brothers, and Molly. And, not only because I am not there (other than Molly, I'm sure, she wouldn't go to my parent's without me there) but I don't think it will be anyone other than my parent's for Christmas this year. It will be the first time for them in at least 26 years, if not longer. I don't know if the boys were with them before I was around. That thought alone makes me pretty upset, which I am sure doesn't make much sense, I am not worried about my Christmas.
Alex does an amazing job at making sure I know how much he loves me and am supported by him, and we've been invited out by some friends for Christmas eve and then to Alex's family's house for Christmas dinner. I am confidant it will be a good day, though I have no doubt it will be a difficult one.
Anyway, that doesn't do much to explain why I am a blubbering ball of tears today. I honestly don't have much of a clue, but wouldn't mind it going away!
I knew these days would come, the ones where Alex is at work and I am home alone. The previous two I have had were not too bad. Things have been looking up and they still are, I realise how fortunate I am to have so many things go right for me. I am so happy with so many things, I feel so comfortable in my own skin, and am in a wonderful happy relationship.
I am not sure why, but today was one of the most difficult I have had so far. Every facebook bleep that popped up from a friend brought me to tears. I was wrapping a few presents and couldn't stop thinking about my mom and I's annual Christmas shopping trip to Kansas City, the lights and bonding. I couldn't help but think of Christmas morning, and my parents, half-brothers, and Molly. And, not only because I am not there (other than Molly, I'm sure, she wouldn't go to my parent's without me there) but I don't think it will be anyone other than my parent's for Christmas this year. It will be the first time for them in at least 26 years, if not longer. I don't know if the boys were with them before I was around. That thought alone makes me pretty upset, which I am sure doesn't make much sense, I am not worried about my Christmas.
Alex does an amazing job at making sure I know how much he loves me and am supported by him, and we've been invited out by some friends for Christmas eve and then to Alex's family's house for Christmas dinner. I am confidant it will be a good day, though I have no doubt it will be a difficult one.
Anyway, that doesn't do much to explain why I am a blubbering ball of tears today. I honestly don't have much of a clue, but wouldn't mind it going away!
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