The one with London

Heathrow Airport is a big place. We were supposed to have a seven hour layover there. Instead we faced a nightmare and were detained through the holidays. Luckily, we were able to leave the airport and our nightmare slowly became less of a disappointment. The airline put us up in a fancy hotel the first night which a singing bus driving delivered us to. We had vouchers for dinner along with breakfast and lunch the following day. Although the meals were buffet style they were delicious.

Our first morning was spent trying to find a place to leave our bags for the day and rest our heads that night. We decided on a Shakespeare Hotel on the other side of the city to be closer to the consulate. Due to the holiday tube strike we chose to stay close to the consulate. Although the Shakespeare Hotel sounded fancy, it was not. We were supposed to have two beds, but only one was to be shared. Stephanie's side of the bed was partly in the fireplace. We had to place a coffee cup in the windowsill to prop the window open to breath fresh air. We were four flights up with no lift and a number of bags. We paid for the internet and had a terrible time accessing it. After complaining to the front desk I had to sit in the stairwell to Skype with my entire family on Christmas Eve. Our shower leaked when other people utilized the pipes and our bathroom faucet randomly spewed water. To our advantage, we were out exploring most of the day and did not have to endure the smallness of the room until the evening.

The Big Bus (tour) became our friend. We were walking to the consulate so that we would know how to get there when the time came and a man stopped us to inquire about the Big Bus Tour. We obliged and it all worked out beautifully. Although it was a hop on-hop off tour we rode the entire way through. We saw a multitude of neat things and made a list of the places to which we wished to return. With our tour came a free Harry Potter walking tour which showed us seven locations used in the films. It was awesome and, of course, rainy. After our tour we went to dinner at a Taylor Walker pub. Stephanie had lamb. I had salmon and a Carling beer. We both nommed on Camamberet cheese. Since it was Christmas Eve we decided a bottle of wine and an assortment of wafer chocolates seemed a good way to celebrate. Two days later and we still had about half a bottle of wine. We never did finish it.

Christmas Day most places were closed, including public transit, so we walked the city. We actually walked all the way to the consulate this time. Once there a friendly, everyone in London is friendly, armed guard pointed us in the direction of Shepards Market, where he assured us some pubs would be open. What we found was a Turkish restaurant with a few Christmas specials on the menu. After some time of deliberation over what to chose from the menu our server arrived. As we pointed to the menu and voiced our desired selections he informed us that we would be served every item listed under each special. We spent all that time deliberating only to be served small portions of all the options. Lamb, tabouli, broad beans, falafel, spicy shrimp, etc etc was feast before us. After picking though those options it was time for dessert. I decided on what sounded traditional- Christmas pudding. I was quite displeased with my Christmas pudding. It was not pudding at all. In fact, it was a sort of dense chocolate cake with prunes deep inside and something of an egg drizzle atop. It was not good. Stephanie made the best dessert decision; she ordered Eton mess. It was fruity, meringue-y, delicious, and light. She was nice enough to share with me since I could not even stomach mine.

From the Turkish restaurant we walked to Buckingham Palace. We arrived at the Palace a short time before the rain did. We oogled over the grandness of everything and took loads of photos. We next walked to Westminster Abbey, stopping along the way to take photos of Big Ben. At this point the mist had started and the rain was moving in. Of course we took photos while at Westminster also, and could not resist getting some fresh roasted nuts to munch on for the walk back. The rain was really falling now, but we marched on and although we were freezing we stopped for ice cream at Baskin Robbins. We had to leave before I finished my cone due to Stephanie feeling sick from all the Hookah smoke from the nearby lounges.

Other things seen and experienced in London: Picidillay Circus, Tower of London, London Bridge, Fleet Street, Baker Street, The Sherlock Holmes Museum, The London Eye, Regent Streeet (owned by the Queen and Norway), Margaret Thatcher's house, The Prime Minister's house, Bridget Jones' "house", Abbey Road, eating fish and chips with our Big Bus tour guide on Boxing Day, etc etc. Oh, and my new favorite television show is 8 Out of 10 Cats.

Our time in London ended once Stephanie and I had waited in the queue at the consulate, made various phone calls from one of the infamous Red Booths, sipped hot cocoa at Starbucks (where I napped and waited for Steph while she was at the colsulate for a second and then third time), received a new passport, and boarded our plane to Madrid.

Thanks London for being so friendly and for not completely ruining Christmas.

The One With the Flight Before Christmas

"Twas the flight before Christmas and all through the plane the passengers were all snug in their seats and no one complained."

Southwest proves time again to be the most creative and enjoyable airline to travel with. After riding the airport emloyee shuttle to the terminal with my uncle and a decent flight to Chicago with barking dogs, this was a first for me, I boarded another plane to Newark. The flight commenced with an entire rendition of Twas the Night Before Christmas. It entailed safety precautions and airline procedures. There was even a time for passenger participation. The flight itself was fine, full but fine. Here is a little something I have learned during this flight. If you know that your Southwest flight is full then opt for a seat other than the window. If you chose a window seat then anyone can choose to sit next to you, especially the creepers. Be the chooser and not the choosee. I have learned this from experience.

I am not yet sure what useful things I have learned from my flight from JFK to Heathrow. Some facts have been reiterated, but nothing new has come to light. Things that have been reiterated: Christmas is a busy time especially for travelers, people as a general public tend to not listen and they also like to sit next to their travel mate on their flight especially if they paid extra for a seat assignment, people get impatient, and yet there is always someone willing to help. Sometimes that helpful person heaves your luggage over a carousel that you are obviously struggling with and sometimes that helpful person shoves your luggage into the overhead bin after people have stowed their coats there first even after advised not to. It is nice to know that there is always that helpful person out there. That thought makes me wonder how often and when I present myself as that helpful person.

Boarding the flight at JKF proved to be rather nightmare-ish. The flight was cancelled the day before we were scheduled to leave, so Steph and I were frantically calling to make new plans and get things in place. Once we got to the airport, late, our boarding passes could not be located and by the time they were found it was almost boarding time. Steph got her bag checked and in the time that took it was supposedly too late to check me in- it was too close to boarding time. The airport personnel did not seem to understand that we had been there waiting and that we were travelling together. All things said and done, I got through. We made it through security, somehow, and then we ran with significant haste to our gate. I heard the Home Alone music in my head the whole time. Our flight was not even boarding when we arrived at our gate.

All things considered the actual flight was not so bad, except for the mini asthma attck I had once I finally sat down and not being seated near my travel mate. Little did we know what nightmare loomed ahead once our plane was to land in London.

The one with Endings

Sometime about a month ago my last guinea baby decided it was time to join her Uncle Pappy, Sister Obi, and Brother Micki in the Tapley pet cemetery. I’m only now getting around to writing her tribute because, to be quite frank, I do not like endings. *Sidebar- I don’t like television finales, I don’t like when people move away, I don’t like saying goodnight to a memorable evening, and I don’t like reading the last page of a good book. I always want more. * I especially do not like the fact that the era of guinea babies has come to an end.

Darbi was a super cuddly pig and from the first moment I first saw her and her beady red eyes and white fur. I knew our time together would be special. She was named after my own grandmother and she lived up to that regard. The night she died she awoke me with the sound of her foot scratching against the bottom of her plastic cage. I jumped out of bed thinking that she found the strength to revive herself, but alas she was asking for company so as to not be alone during her send off. Mom, Dad, and I joined her just as she heaved her last breath- much the same as her namesake.

Despite the number of days since her death, I still find myself listening for her squeals when I walk into her room and I still want to give her scraps of veggies while preparing dinner. It’s a strange feeling to be guinea free.

I must remember two things:

1- Every new beginning comes from some other beginning’s end.

2- After a hurricane comes a rainbow.

The one with Weekends

Much fun was had this weekend.

 

A (more than) slightly off Broadway production of Sweeny Todd- Demon Barber of Fleet Street. Mom, Dad, Joyce, and Mike made the evening in Excelsior Springs rather memorable.

 

My precious goddaughter turned three and we had quite the celebration!

 

Walking Tacos- crunched up snack sized bag of Doritos, taco meat, cheese, lettuce, and other taco fixins- are consumed with a fork straight from the bag. One tent, no windows, one bucket with a trash bag and toilet seat, and a soggy roll of toilet paper. The walking taco was much more enjoyable than the peepee tent, however, both made for an awesome day at Arrowhead. The Chiefs win helped a little, too.

 

I love and live for weekends!

The One With Creepy Negativity

Sometime last year I came to recognize that happiness is a choice. Today, with the help of Cornell Dillard of the Missouri Department of Labor, I learned that negativity is also a choice. Negativity is a chosen emotional response to change.

Today was Oktoberfest for the entire Rainbow Options/Rainbow Center crew. There was German food, a root beer garden, and a guest speaker. Although the daily grind of work at Rainbow can be, at times, tedious, the days of getting everyone together are very welcomed. It is a nice to see the faces of those not seen every day, refreshing to hear roars and snorts of laughter, and insightful to gain knowledge of how to work better as a team.

Through a very animated and interactive presentation Cornell explained that negativity has a multitude of identifying personalities and that it is generally creepy to be negative. A story to explain- if you smile at a baby then the baby will smile back. If you frown at a baby the baby will cry and the baby’s mama will ask, “Why yo bein’ creepy with ma baby?” Being negative, creepy, has consequences.

My past work experience taught me a very specific technique in being positive. I need to do more than just remind myself of those techniques and take it a step further by utilizing them, at work and elsewhere. 

The One With That Old Familiar Road

There is nothing quite like death and late night drives with my best friend to sync my head and my heart.

For as long as I have been able to force a key into an inginition I have taken secret drives to my late Aunt Judy's earthly home, often with my best friend. It's a little jaunt through some twisty turns to get there and when making that journey at night, which I only ever do, fog is a near guarantee. 

When I turn my brights on and strain my eyes to see through that fog, I cannot help but to look back at some very memorable events with and involving my Aunt Judy. The most vivid memories are the extravagant 4th of July parties and the somber night she died.  These precious memories burst with laughter, love, and comfort that can only come through the knowledge that family is forever. 

September first was the 13th anniversary of the day she went Home. This thought must have been more present in my subconscious than I realized. After spending a sweet weekend night with family and friends, my best friend and I had a hankering to roll the windows down and just drive- like we used to.

 We wanted to sing loudly into the blackened sky, escape for a bit as if night was forever, and feel as innocent as the kids we once were. Without much thought, I merged onto the highway and almost immediately began the journey down that old familiar road. 

Realizing that I remembered the way, after so many years with no secret trips, created in me a sense of closeness- closeness to my Aunt, closeness to God, and a closeness between my head and my heart. 

My journey through the fog, both literally and metaphorically, has led me to a place where my head and my heart make sense together. 

Thanks be to God. And a special thanks to my Aunt Judy for saying HI to me on the radio this morning- I will remember you. 

The one with the Extravagant Life

We all live such elaborate lives with wild ambitions in our sights. My wild ambitions have, for as long as I can remember, been to live in a location far from the mid-west or to own my own business. That list goes on- such wild ambitions I create for my life.

We all live in extravagant times. Yes, yes, we do. Technology makes my days seem even more extravagant. But then again, what is the measure of extravagance?

To me, extravagance in life is being blessed enough to recognize my blessings. My blessings consist largely of the people I choose to share my days with. Everyone believes they have the best friends and I am no different.

I have, for quite some time now, been in deliberation with myself as to whether or not to chase one of my wild ambitions and move away or to recognize my blessings here. Each hug from my god daughter, each beer with my cousins, each game of Bananagram with my friends, each cup of coffee with my aunts, each downtown antiquing trip with my parents, each late night conversation, each laugh, each movie night, each dinner party- makes it harder for me to considering moving my life from this place.

Maybe it was some elaborate twist of fate that brought me back to this place- home. Whatever the case, I find that I am feeling more at ease with the thought of sticking around. Spending some of December in France may change this thought, however, that is still a few months away. For now, I’m settling down and making this place my home because I know I’m not alone.

“We all lead such elaborate lives

wild ambitions in our sights

How an affair of the heart survives

days apart and hurried nights

Seems quite unbelievable to me

I don't want to live like that

seems quite unbelievable to me

I don't want to love like that

I just want our time to be

slower and gentler, wiser, free

We all live in extravagant times

playing games we can't all win

Unintened emotional crimes

Take some out, take others in

We all lead such elaborate lives

We don't know whose words are true

Strangers, lovers, husbands, wives

Hard to know who's loving who “

…

- Aida