Duct Tape & WD-40

Wish You Were Here (If I hated you)

My husband is here. This is a shot of the pool area at Miami's Fountainebleau Hotel.

I will be headed to Williamsburg, VA with Cole's 5th grade class at 5:45 a.m. tomorrow morning.  I've decided to leave the laptop at home so I will be flying without a net (or the net, get it???) Don't worry, I've packed the essentials - iphone, underwear, vodka.

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Whenever I go out with my girlfriends (usually drinking!), our conversations eventually come around to this.  One of us says, "You know, I love my husband. I can't even imagine what I would do if something happened to him. But if anything ever did happen to him, I would NEVER get married again." and everyone else joins in agreeing whole heartedly. Sometimes we even wax poetically about life without a husband to serve.

Last time, however, a girl who isn't usually with us chimed in and said "I wouldn't get married again because I could never replace the husband I've got."

The conversation stopped dead and we all stared at her blankly. Finally I spoke up.

"How long have you been married?" I asked.

"Five years." was her reply.

"Oh", we all nodded and started smiling and talking again. That explained it.

Good Vibrations

Look! Big Ben, Parliament!

Look! Big Ben, Parliament!

Look! Big Ben, Parliament!

Look! Big Ben, Parliament!

Blog prize to the first person to tell me what movie that was from.

I know you have seen different versions of this photo a million times. But have you ever seen it acidified in Photoshop. I think not.

Feeling better. Getting back into things. The good life seems a distant memory. I think that there is a term for that - let me look it up.

Oh here it is: Stockholm Sydrome

–noun Psychiatry.

an emotional attachment to a captor formed by a hostage as a result of continuous stress, dependence, and a need to cooperate for survival.

Origin: 
after an incident in Stockholm in 1973, during which a bank employee became romantically attached to a robber who held her hostage

Yes, that about sums it up.

I had someone ask me today if I would go back to London anytime soon given the difficult time I had returning home?  My answer was "Yes! Absolutely! Without a doubt. I can have my bags packed in 15 minutes."

"But what if you couldn't afford to fly first class?" they continued.

"Well I'm sure I could sell something (a child?) to get the money." was my reply.

"What if all of the first class seats were booked for the next four years?"

"This is a stupid conversation and you're stupid, too!"

Although at one time last week I was thinking that perhaps my next trip should be to Kandahar, Afghanistan or maybe a freighter off the coast of Somalia. Then I would be extremely excited to come home.

Finally, today, this song seems to be resonating with me.

Yo! It's about that time

To bring forth the rhythm and the rhyme

It's "Good Vibrations" from Marky Mark and the Funky Bunch. That's Mark Walberg for you infants out there. Wonder what ever happened to the Funky Bunch?

Oh Boy! A Postcard from the Front Line

Thank you to everyone with their sweet, encouraging comments about my last post. Not just on this blog, but in person and through e-mail. Sometimes you think you are all alone in your feelings, especially the ones that you feel horrible to even think, much less admit to anyone.  Then you find out that so many people are going through the EXACT SAME THING. It certainly helps to put things into perspective.

I may not be at the best place in my life right now, but I never lose sight of the fact that I am truly, truly blessed an lucky.

There are a couple of other things that are contributing to my melancholy.

1. I actually am hormonal right now.

2. I am extremely tired and stretched very thin. You see, when school starts in August, there are lists posted for parents to volunteer to help in the classroom throughout the year.  Well, in August, April seems soooooooooo far away. I always think that I am too busy in the Fall and Christmas, so I will do a lot in the Spring. Remember I have three boys in three different classrooms. So I sign up for lots of things and then comes April when I am shocked to find out that I said I would this and this and this and this and this......

I am completely responsible for a lot of thing that need to be done in the next three weeks.  I am completely overwhelmed.

This isn't the first year I have made this mistake. I did it last year too and ended up spending a month at the beach feeling so shell shocked that I couldn't even watch TV!

I WILL NOT MAKE THE SAME MISTAKE NEXT YEAR!

I am going to set a firm number of things that I will do throughout the year and stick to it.

I have also realized that although I now have household/nanny help for almost 30 hours a week, I am still freaked out. That is because I have filled the extra time that Karen has allowed me to have with more stuff to do with the kids and school. The extra time was supposed to allow me to breathe.  I must work on this problem. I want to fill the extra time (at least most of it) with creativity  - art, writing and photography.

So, to go back to my soldier at war analogy, maybe I could say now that he is still committed to a job he does not like, but he is being transfered from the front lines to a resort city in Dubai. He would rather be home and doing his own thing, but it is not the hell and horror of war.

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My post title suggests a postcard and here it is.

London has sidewalk stands selling beautiful flowers on what seems like every corner. I'm always drawn to them and these caught my eye on the last day of my trip. It was all I could do to keep myself from buying them, but I knew I couldn't take them with me.

I have never in my life seen these round flowers.  The signs says they are Rununculas and they may have become my new favorite flower. I love their round layers.

Or Maybe I'm Just Hormonal

While in London, I indulged my obsession with paper, patterns, print and words by stopping by a card shop at the Kensington High Street tube station. I was looking for anything that caught my eye or seemed particularly English (that's for you, Mark).  How could I pass this one up? I also collected another one that said "So You Are Leaving? Well Piss Off Then" and another that simply said "Shit."

So that is the humorous part of this post. The rest is going down hill, so you might just want to click away.

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I can finally say that I am seeing some light, but I am still so very sad. I am having such a hard time readjusting to life post-London. I started organizing the video I took over there and I had to stop because it made me cry. I didn't really expect this. Like I said in my last post, I'm trying to process and reconcile it all.

I'm sad because being away made me realize how miserable I am in my life right now. Okay, "miserable" is too strong a word. How about unhappy?

Remember last year when my "one little word" was BLOOM, as in bloom where you are planted?  That was so on target for me. I have made choices in my life that caused me to be planted in my current situation. I have so little patience for people who sit around and say "life is awful" but won't do anything to change it. If I have planted myself here, then I will do what it takes to be happy and satisfied here. I choose to bloom.

But being in London, having that all too brief taste of freedom and fun, reminded me that I don't like where I am planted and I am forcing myself to bloom.

Now I overanalyze a lot. I promise you that I look at everything six ways to Sunday.  I am well aware that my time in London is not what real life would be like if I lived there and didn't have a husband and kids. My trip was a fairytale where I was treated like a princess. I did whatever I wanted. I indulged in everything. I spent loads of money. I am not silly enough to think that that could continue.

But the contrast between that and my life here is causing a lot of pain at the moment. I love my husband. I love my children. That is why I came back. I have committed to them and I will not let them down. I will not run away. I will not leave them. I will not give up on them or my life. I will continue to give them my very, very best.

But, oh God, I hate the crushing responsibility of it all. I hate consulting and considering four other people when making decisions. I hate making decisions! I hate putting everything and everybody's needs ahead of my own. I hate wondering "What if?" I hate Orlando. I hate making lunches and dinner. I hate helping with homework. I hate watching Cole struggle and witnessing his pain. I hate making the best of a bad situation. I hate blooming!

I've got to pull it all back together and squash this rebellion in me. My situation will not change for at least another ten years. And who knows how much it will change then? Actually, I don't want it to change because that would mean a life without Gary or my kids and I DON'T WANT THAT. I've just got to get used to it again.

I wonder if it is kind of like a solider at war who has gotten a furlough to come home for a week. Home is great. People are happy to see him. Special parties are given for him. He gets to eat home cooking and all his favorite foods. He gets spend time with the people that he loves - people that he misses so much when he is gone. He gets to watch TV and control the remote!

But then he has to go back to the base. He must leave what he loves to return to what he hates. He must submit to authority. He must experience the horror and fear that is war. How does he do it?

He must just readjust. I guess because even war and all that bad stuff has its good moments. Maybe he takes comfort in the few benefits. Sure he would rather be home, but he has made friends in his unit. He is constantly seeing and learning new things.  He readjusts because has made a commitment. He has no other choice. He has to honor his contract. He has to complete his tour of duty and make it out alive.

So there you have it internet. I have just compared my life to that of a soldier fighting in Iraq. And that, people, has made me laugh out loud!  Could I be any more self-centered???

See, I told you the light is starting to shine though the clouds. I am readjusting.

I thought of these words today and they resonated with me. "To everything there is a season." Then I remembered that Bruce Springsteen has sung those words, too. It was here in Orlando when Roger McGuinn came on stage to perform "Turn, Turn, Turn" with him. You can download the video from iTunes if you would like to see it. It seems almost too connected not to take it to heart.

I also read this entry and this entry from one of my favorite blogs and felt better knowing that I am not the only mother to ever feel that all this work might not be greatest thing I ever do.  Motherhood and marriage is hard and sometimes it totally sucks.

Or maybe I'm just hormonal.

P.S. I hate going on school field trips, too.

Back To Life, Back To Reality

Ah London... I'm still trying to process it all. How can I love a place so much that has NOTHING to do with my real life? How can I be so happy and content in two places? In London, I am single (as in unattached to kids and a husband and able to make my own decisions - NOT as in single looking for hook up!).  I am completely free and I love it.  At home I have a wonderful husband and a terrific family and I love it too. It is almost like I have split personalities, except my personality is the same in both places.  Maybe I mean I have a double life? I don't know. Maybe I am reading too much into the whole thing. Maybe I should just say I had fun and I can't wait to go again.

So here are some final points about my trip

• Made my goal of 600 pints! Woo Hoo!

• Scone count = 0. Seriously!!! I couldn't find one on any menu or in any bakery. I guess they are out of fashion. But really, no scones???

• Flying first class on an international flight is going to get it's own blog post. It was an experience all itself. I don't know if I will ever be able to fly coach internationally again. Let me sum it up this way. I've been poor and I've sat with rich people. Sitting with rich people is better.

• Bought much more stuff than I expected to buy including enough European sunscreen to take a bath in.

• Loved being in a walking city. I didn't worry about the calories in the pints and Maltesers because I had walked all day long. Like tennis, I would rather just get exercise in the things I like doing, rather spending hours in a stupid gym.

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My first full day back was just awful. I mean it ranks up there in the top 30 Worst Days Ever. It started at 9:00 a.m. with three calls that began with the phrase "Oh, glad you are back..." then went on to the million things I have committed to do.

Then came an issue with Cole that required taking him to the doctor and lots of worrying by me.

Luke faked being sick so that he could come home from school. Of course, I was at the doctor with Cole, so Gary had to get Luke.

Gary informed me that my trip to the Inspired Artist Workshop in May is in jeopardy because he has to go to a golf tournament in North Carolina. 

Cole's teacher called to tell me that he has failed a test both the first and second time that he took it. Also, he is failing to turn in assignments. This means that I am going to have to take a more active role in his classes so that he will get his butt in gear.

All this with jet lag and about 2 hrs of sleep after 24 hours of traveling. I ended up crying in bed with covers over my head!

I'm supposed to go from breakfast in bed every day to this???  Can't I just ease back into things?

Anyway today is better and I have lots of photos, videos and memories to get me through the rough spots - like this photo of my last night in London. It was taken in a beautiful pub at Liverpool Street Station. 

Steve, Mark and Holly. Miss them. Miss the pubs. Miss the pints.

A Night of Farewells in London

Quickly chugging pints to make my goal of 600.  I knew my time here would go too quickly.  I'm leaving for Liverpool Street Station (they filmed scenes from the Elephant Man there) to meet Steve and his other Metropolitan police buddies.  They promise to give a proper send off.  Not too much of a party because I have to make my 9:30 a.m. flight which means I have to leave my hotel stupid early in the morning.  Oh well, won't be the first time I have left London with a hangover.  Hopefully it won't be the last time either!

Revising History with Photoshop

Today I returned to Wimbledon.  I was at the sight of my 2008 victory over Serena Williams at the All England Lawn Tennis club. It felt so good to be back at Centre Court. I could almost hear the fans shouting "Lori! Lori! Lori!" and "USA!"  Winning Wimbledon was the best day of my life.

What? You don't remember me winning Wimbledon? Of course you do! I wore that cute sparkly white Nike tennis dress and my Nike shoes with my name stitched on them?  Really, you didn't know that was me?

Well here I'll show you.  They keep the leader board up all year until the next Wimbledon.  I took a picture of it.

Don't you see my name.  Here I'll show you a close up.

I can't wait to come back in June and defend my title.

Here's one more thing before I go.  I call this one "Looks Like a Movie Set From a Film about London"

When I Get Home You Can Call Me Malteser Butt

It's now become my routine to sleep in, breakfast in bed, then walk around a chosen area of town. Then I meet Steve and his friends for drinks, dinner, a show and more drinks.  Then I go back to my room and eat an entire package of Maltesers while watching American shows on British TV.

I would love to stay longer, but I fear developing Malteser Butt.

Today I went to Portobello Market for a few hours. I'm not really into antiques, but I thought I might come upon some crap and nonsense to carry home.

Did I ever!

A booth dedicated to printing.  I knew I shouldn't but I bought a type drawer and some woodblock type plus a type stamp of the RAF (Royal Air Force).  I also bought a couple of brooches that I will use in a class at the upcoming Inspired artist workshop.  Here is a photo of my bounty.

Going out to buy an extra suitcase tomorrow.

Here is a photo of my room.  It is HUGE by London (or any other big city) standards, but it is not as large as it is in the picture.  I used my wide angle lens to get everthing in and it distorts things.

Alright then, keep calm and carry on and mind the gap and all that rubish.  Good night.

600 Pints of Ale on the Wall

When my friend, Steve, asked what I wanted to do while I was in London, I told him that I wanted to drink 600 pints and eat 700 scones.

The count:

 2 pints

0 scones

I've got to get busy!

I'm On My Way to India For 3 Weeks London for Five Days

Here I sit in the Virgin Atlantic Club Lounge at JFK airport waiting for my flight to London. It's hard to believe that this day has arrived. I've been planning this for a LONG time - about 19 years to be exact.

Actually about 15 years ago, I told Gary that I wanted to go to India for 3 weeks for my 40th birthday. It was supposed to be sort of a spiritual journey. It was going to be a time where I took stock of my life and made decisions about the future. I got the idea before Eat, Pray, Love. Only I wasn't going to stay in an Ashrim and I wouldn't be newly divorced. It would be a challenge to my every day existence and a check to see if I was still in the right place.

Most importantly, Gary couldn't complain about this trip because he had 15 YEARS to get used to the idea! I had 15 years to save up for the trip.

Well reality has a way of stepping in on one's plans. I am now 40 years old, but I am a mother of 3 young boys.  Going away for 3 weeks is simply not possible. Going to India at this time may even be dangerous. I can't risk it at this point in my life. I was not, however, ready to give up on my trip.

I have spent the last year contemplating a kinder, gentler, shorter (as in less than a week) version of my trip. I thought of an art retreat in Italy.  I looked into an art retreat in Washington State. But my heart kept saying London.

I spent my last semester of college in London and I haven't been back since.  If you had told me when I left in 1990 that it would be almost 20 years before I would come back. I know that I would have never left.  I love London.  But I also love Gary Hudson, and almost 20 years ago, he was waiting to marry me in the United States. I definitely made the right decision.

But London was never far from my mind. I often dream of it at night. Sometimes I have thought of just buying a ticket and going, but that is not the responsible thing to do.

But now I am 40. Now I have my trip. If it can't be India, then it must be London.

I will be gone for five days.  I am going alone.  And I hate to admit it, but it is a challenge to my every day existence. I'm not used to flying internationally. It is no longer comfortable for me. I fear all that as changed in 19 years.

But in about an hour I will be on my way across the pond.

Check back often because my hotel has wi-fi and I'll be posting pictures. Can you believe it? When I was there so long ago, Gary and I had to write letters. Snail mail!  We called each other once a week and our phone bill was $600 a month!