A Feeling of Disconnect

I always knew to a certain extent, that moving to another country would disconnect me from friends and family back in Idaho.  When I first moved to the UK back in 2008 for my MA I never in a million years imagined that I would meet a guy, fall in love, and 10 years later be married in living just outside London.  It seems like a lifetime ago that my journey started.  When I moved back to the US in 2011 I thought I had lost the love of my life and everything I had ever dreamed of was gone forever.  But we survived a long distance relationship, a long distance engagement, and I moved back here to the UK In February of 2017. 
I remember being so scared to move away from home again.  I think it was because the first time I only planned on being gone a year (though it ended up being almost 3 years).  It was only a temporary move and I would be back to everything I had known.  Moving here in 2017 I knew it was a big step, I wasn't merely packing two suitcases, I was packing up my entire life and putting it in storage to be moved to the UK at a later date.
When my boxes arrived in December of 2017 I again had a wave of mixed emotions, happy that all my belonging arrived safely, and the flutter of anxiety as it became more concrete that the UK was my new home.
I have no regrets moving and settling here in the UK with my now husband. We spent so many year apart, and each time we would visit one another and had to leave, the cracks in my heart were so painful.  I could hardly bare it.  And the first few months of living here, every time he would go to work, that same pain would surface and the tears would fall.  But eventually my brain and heart communicated and I realised that we would never be separated like that again. I am so happy and so grateful to have my amazing husband in my life and I wouldn't trade it for anything.
But I miss my friends and my family back home, I miss being able to spend time with my closest friends and even though we instantly pick up where we left off when I visit its not the same.  I feel like I'm missing so much and am no longer included in things back home.  My best friend is getting married in a few weeks time and though I am over the moon with happiness, my heart is breaking because I haven't been there. She has always been such a big part of my life, she was not only my best friend but my sister.  I was there for her when her mum passed away, she was there for me when my grandma passed.  We have been there for each other for everything, the good and the bad. And now I've only had contact with her via occasional emails.  I feel like I'm no longer a part of anyones life there. I've been forgotten.
I love my life here, and I couldn't ask for a better husband, or kinder family but I miss my family and my friends back home.

Let it Snow! Let it Snow! Let it Snow!

When I hear the word snow storm I picture snow falling so heavy you can barely see out your window, accumulating to 1.5 feet and the city/county busy plowing roads.  People still go to work, kids go to school, and life as usual carries on. 

Imagine my surprise when less than three inches of snow over three days causes a complete shut down of public transport and news stories broadcast about hundreds of people stuck on the road in their cars because roads have been shut down (military was dispatched to save the stranded drivers).  They called the storm the "beast from the east".   A I said trains were delayed and cancelled, school was closed for 3 days, people worked from home because of the "severe" weather. 

Does this look severe to you?

To be honest I found the whole situation laughable, how can the UK be so inept to handle such a small amount of snow?  Yes I know its a Victorian infrastructure and they say there isn't anything they can do but really?  Letting 2.5 inches of snow bring a city to a standstill for days seems a bit over dramatic doesn't it?

I guess people from London and people from Idaho are like "chaulk and cheese" (a wonderful British term for very different).  When the infrastructure in Idaho can't keep up with the plowing of roads, etc locals step in to lend a hand.  Those with plows attached to their pickup trucks drive the side roads and clear the snow.  They clear car parks, and if they see someone stuck in the snow they lend a hand.

There wasn't even enough snow here to deem any of these things necessary, but what I want to know is how to do people not know how to handle snow? I mean that little of snow doesn't even go up over your shoes for the most part. Yes it will make roads slippery and pavement a bit more treacherous to walk on, but thats nothing a pair of snow boots won't fix.  As for driving, yes drive more cautiously, but you have all season tires right?  

I know there isn't a simple answer, because to be prepared with the proper infrastructure and equipment takes money.  But how much are these snow days costing in comparison to the investment that would be needed to avoid this chaos?  Snow is supposed rare for the UK (not including Scotland who does get their fair share), and so the cost of being prepared is more than the government is willing to spend.

This Is Me

Have you ever had a song speak to you on such a personal level that the hairs on your arms stand up and you feel like a song was written for you?  This Is Me is that song for me.  And while I loved every song that came on, this is the one that spoke to me the most. It is the signature song of "The Greatest Showman" a musical biography of P.T. Barnum and is an empowering song to outcasts everywhere.

I am not a stranger to the dark

"Hide away", they say

"'Cause we don't want your broken parts"

I've learned to be ashamed of all my scars

"Run away", they say

"No one'll love you as you are"

But I won't let them break me down to dust

I know that there's a place for us

For we are glorious

When the sharpest words wanna cut me down

I'm gonna send a flood, gonna drown em out

I am brave, I am bruised

I am who I'm meant to be, this is me

I have always felt like an outsider/outcast, in school I was the fat kid from the trailer park, at church I was the fat kid from a single parent household, in my family I was the daughter of a step child.  Every now and then people made attempts to include me and make me feel less like an outcast.  I'm not saying I had a particularly difficult childhood ( I had a few close friends who were outcasts as well), a lot of people are a lot worse off than I ever was.  All I'm saying that that I was different. I was the outcast that just didn't fit in.

I tried so hard to fit in,  I went through stages of starving myself and throwing up everything I ate to try and lose weight so I could be the same size as other girls in my school in hopes of being accepted.  I used my mother's iron to try and straighten my hair so I looked like everyone else.  I did well in school hoping I would at least fit in with the smart kids, but I wasn't as smart and didn't fit in there either.  In High School I auditioned for the choir and got in only to be an outsider within a group.  University was easier, the people in my program had a lot of the likes and interests I did so I was invited to social activities.  The first guy to take interest in me I pushed away because I thought there was no possible way he actually liked me (its a good thing he didn't give up, because we would have never gotten married and I would have at least 15 cats by now). 

Its been a long hard road, and I am only now learning to accept myself for who I am and understand that it is okay to be me.  Early life conditioning has made me uncomfortable in my own skin. I am extremely self critical and I know that puts limits on my potential.  I know I have to find my own self worth, it can't be given to me.  I've always found my worth through work and so not having a job this past year has been particularly difficult for me.  So much in fact that I have begun to think that the only thing I am good for is working in fast food, or baggage handling at an airport.

 Unfortunately I have a fixed mind set which means when I am challenged I get very defensive.  I don't mean to, but its an instinct.  I know I have to grow and expand my mind set because in life I am going to be challenged.  The important thing is that I take that chance to learn each time I am challenged instead of defending.  I have always been frustrated that coming from a single parent home I didn't have two parents, we didn't have money (half the time we didn't have electricity), and I had to pay my own way through school. Everyday I have to fight my self-fulling defeatism outlook that I have had for most of my life.

I have discovered something very important though as an outsider, I am a keen observer and can see the wider perspective.  This insight is a powerful tool to turn disadvantages into advantages.  When I went to university I saw so many students throwing their education away for parties and fun.  Having to pay for my own education I wasn't about to throw money away, so I studied hard to make sure I got the education I was paying for.  Growing up poor, I have so much more understanding of the value of money than a lot of people I know. 

I assume that world is full of false sincerity and because of this I struggle to participate which only leads to more loneliness and isolation.  I know the right thing to do is to participate in life in order to not be lonely and isolated in my own thoughts.  Last year I got married to an amazing man with an equally amazing family.  They include me in everything, but the years of being an outcast make it difficult for me to accept my place.  I know they want nothing but the best for me and want me to feel I am a part of the unit (because as my husband keeps telling me I am a part of this family) and I know that I am a part of this wonderful, kind family, but it is a daily struggle to accept their kindness and their genuine love.

From Idealistic to Realistic with Addendum

Not everyone can say they have their dream job. I am lucky enough to have had a dream job not once but twice. The first time as Collections Manager at the IMNH and the last time as Assistant Director & Collections Manager at the BCHM. Never in a million years did I dream of having such amazing jobs and working with such great people.  Life as a museum professional has been amazing but after 7 months of job hunting it is time to retire the search and move from idealistic to realistic.  In hindsight I wish I had come this conclusion earlier but it is better late than never.

I have realised it's not about doing what makes you happy but being happy and grateful for what you have.  Less than 1% of people have a job they love.  I have been very fortunate to have had my opportunity for working in my dream roles and I will forever remember all that I have learned.  Hopefully this new path will be prosperous because as we know it all comes down to money.

ADDENDUM:
Sometimes we are too hasty with our decisions. Sometimes fear of the unknown and fear of disappointing others leads us to make rash decisions.  Its been an emotional rollercoaster these past few days but I am trying to move forward.  I was looking at this from the wrong point of view, just because I haven't got that "dream"job yet doesn't mean I should give up and do a 180 in terms of career goals.  I had it in my mind that if I couldn't work in a museum then the only thing I could do was apply for minimum wage fast food, cashier roles, and baggage handler.  I flipped the switch completely and as a result pretty much broke down at the thought of having to do this for the rest of my life. I tried to convince myself for 2 days that I wanted to be a cashier for the rest of my life (not that there is anything wrong with that, it is a great job for those that love that type of work).  
Now I'm working on a mix of applications, I'm still pursuing that dream job in the heritage sector, but I'm also looking for other roles that fit my skill set and pay more than minimum wage.  My heart is happy, but my head still tells me that I'm not good for anything more than minimum wage.  

Obrigada Lisboa

I fell in love with Lisbon the moment we landed. A city rich in history with everything from castles to convents. São Jorge Castle offered breathtaking views of the city and the sea alongside a history of Moorish, Muslim and later Christian conquest.

We ventured to Belém where we tasted traditional Pastéis de Belém, and walked through the rain to Torre de Belém. The tower was commissioned by King John II to be part of a defence system at the mouth of the Tagus river and a ceremonial gateway to Lisbon. The views were beautiful even if the 93 steps up the spiral staircase made slippery from the day of rain were precarious. On the way is the Padrao dos Descobrimentos depicting the explorers of the world and a tropical garden filled with palm trees, chickens, and a feeling of peace as you walk the paths.

The Oceanário de Lisboa immersed us in life under the sea with sharks, crabs, and so much more. Santini gelato was as delicious as promised and topped with Chantilly cream was a decadent treat not to be missed. Praça de Comércio with the statue of King José I and the Arco Triunfal da Rua Augusta shine bright against the bright blue Portuguese sky.

The Santa Justa Lift provided a romantic view of the city at night, the São Jorge Castle and Lisbon Cathedral illuminated and the Carmo Convent (a gothic building founded in 1389 whose roof collapsed in the 1755 earthquake) just behind the lift is the perfect backdrop of this viewing platform.

Obrigada Lisboa (thank you Lisbon) for a wonderful honeymoon and a wonderful glimpse into Portuguese life. The city, the people, and the history of this small county are beautiful. We will return soon as it obvious that Lisbon has stolen a piece of our hearts.

For Auld Lang Syne

2017 has given me much to celebrate; I moved to the UK to be with the love of my life, I got married, I celebrated my first Diwali, Karva Chauth, and Bon Fire Night, its been a year of firsts.

Its been a year of making memories and making plans for the future.

It hasn't all gone smoothly, but I have a year of amazing memories and even the struggles don't seem as bad now as I reflect on the ups and downs this year has brought. I packed up my entire flat with the help of one of my besties and my mum in 3 days ( the 3 most exciting and stressful days of my life).  A horrible holiday turned into a lovely one, I made new friends, saw old friends get married, visited a new country, and made plans for the future.  I've had bouts of homesickness, moments of anxiety, and times when I didn't understand the culture around me, but every moment has made me a stronger person.

I don't know what 2018 will bring, hopefully a job, a home of our own, and maybe an adventure or two. Thank you 2017 for all you have given me, and 2018 I look forward to what you have in store...

Christmas Spirit...

As Christmas looms closer I can't help but feel a bit more homesick as the day approaches.  The house is filled with holiday smells, and yet they aren't the ones I am accustomed to.  Fruit cakes, lemon drizzle, chocolate bark, while all of it sounds lovely, none of it shouts "Its Christmas" to me.
Grandma's homemade fudge, divinity, peanut brittle, Christmas cookies, these are the holiday smells I've grown up with. 
Holidays are steeped in tradition and as a foreigner in a foreign land I am finding the transition difficult. My husband bless him has been a rock and even my very own Christmas elf trying his hardest to bring back my holiday spirit. We've gone to Winter Wonderland, Oxford Circus and Regent Street for Christmas lights, went to see White Christmas on the big screen. It has all been amazing.  And I have to admit that at times my holiday spirit is quite high, but then it seems to suddenly drop to almost nothing and I find myself thinking about Christmas traditions back home and I feel the tears start to well up in my eyes.
Its not that my new family doesn't want me to keep my traditions, I have tried to bring some of my traditions here, I made Christmas cookies for my mother in law's Christmas hampers to give out to family, but I didn't find the joy I usually feel as I was left to make them by myself.  Christmas cookies were always a family affair with everyone decorating them in their own fashion. My brother the artist made elaborate decorations that were almost too pretty to eat, while I was more of a see how many sprinkles I can fit on one cookie sort of decorator.
I know that one day I'll wake up and I won't feel quite so out of place, but the holidays are hard.  This year I will hopefully make new traditions to blend with old, and next year I won't feel the sting of homesickness quite so much.

Dear Santa

Dear Santa,

How are you and Mrs. Claus? How are the elves? I have been very good this year, or at least I think I have been good, I mean I haven't committed any criminal offences that I am aware of so thats good right?  I still go the gym though not quite as often as I should, and I try to be kind to everyone.  This year for Christmas I would only like one thing, can you help me fit in here in England, I'm still finding it difficult. I figure if I fit in then it will be easier to find a job, so maybe a hat or a British accent would help. Thank you in advance and I hope you have a safe journey.

Merry Christmas,

Carli

P.S. I'll leave you cookies and a coke just like I always do!   

Seven Years Between

In December 2010 I experienced my first Christmas in London, my boyfriend (now husband!) took me to Winter Wonderland for the first time.  What a wonderful day it was, and my first time at a Christmas Market, German hotdogs, chocolate covered everything, and that wonderful feeling of Christmas.

Fast forward seven years later and and we revisit that London icon of Christmas.  Its gotten bigger, the lights have gotten brighter, but the feeling is still the same.  We ate German hotdogs again, I traded in the chocolate covered grapes for chocolate covered pineapple and opted for a candy apple to bring home for later.

 2010 Winter Wonderland was quite small in comparison to the size it is now, we spent 3 hours and I think just about saw all of it.  There were more rides than I'd seen before and lots more food and trinket stalls. The crowds were larger, but it didn't matter. Walking hand in hand in it felt like it was just the two of us. We played in the artificial snow, drank mulled wine (well Mr. V had hot chocolate) and even danced when a favourite song came on.  All in all it was a magical evening.

2017

2010

I'll Just Call it Turkey Day!

Moving to the UK I thought perhaps I would leave this holiday back in America, my husband convinced me to share the holiday with my family here in London.  Thanksgiving is strange holiday.  We prepare a huge feast and eat until we are stuffed all in the memory of those first settlers who came to America on the Mayflower and nearly died had it not been for the indigenous people who saved the colonists.  The story goes that in 1621 the Plymouth colonists and the Wampanoag Indians shared a feast to celebrate the autumn harvest thus marking the first Thanksgiving. The harvest would not have been possible if the Wampanoag has not taught the colonists what plants were edible, how to grow crops, fish in the rivers, extract sap from trees, etc.  For decades following this, individual colonies and states celebrated days of thanksgiving.   In 1863 in the midst of civil war President Abraham Lincoln proclaimed a national holiday known as Thanksgiving to be held each November.   Today we acknowledge the 4th Thursday of each November as Thanksgiving.   

This is the story we are taught from the tender age of five, we bring home pilgrim hats made of construction paper, colour turkeys made from our hand prints, and as a grand finale of the holiday school children put on a production portraying that first Thanksgiving.  What a bunch of hooey!!!  This narrative we are taught and reminded of year after year paints a perfect and happy portrait of relations between the Wampanoag and the colonists.  It completely glosses over the long and bloody conflict between the Native Americans and European settlers.  A conflict that has resulted in the death of millions!  For Native Americans the 4th Thursday of November severs as a day to remember the disease, racism, and oppression the European settlers brought.  It is a day to remember and mourn the loss of millions of lives during the centuries of conflict between the Native people and the settlers.  We were sold a myth about the first Thanksgiving from a very young age.   In reality the colonists rewarded the kindness of the Native American peoples kindness by enslaving many and trying to carry out genocide on the rest.

My mum and I, I  think have always struggled with this holiday.  Being part European and part Native American its a struggle to come to terms with the holiday.  One part wants to celebrate the other part wants to mourn.  The only way I have found to cope with this holiday is to acknowledge both sides.  I am grateful for the kindness my Native ancestors showed to my white ancestors and I mourn for my Native American ancestors who were enslaved, ravaged by disease and war, and died.  I do not celebrate what my white ancestors did to my native ancestors but I do acknowledge it.  What I do celebrate is a year of successful harvests.  I give thanks that I have a roof over my head, food in my belly, and good health.  I give thanks to my ancestors for their strength, their courage, and their sacrifice.  I give thanks for my family and for all that I have.

Unemployed, Ashamed, and Disheartened

Even if you are one of the happiest people full of hope and generally optimistic about life, searching for a job can be painful, depressing and down right soul sucking. Especially when it takes longer than you expect to find that new job. 

I have found that one of the most difficult things to handle is the uncertainty of everything. I don't know when this search is ever going to end! Granted I am extremely fortunate to be living at home with my husband (who is employed full time thankfully) and his parents so I'm not constantly stressing about how to pay rent/mortgage, etc.  But what kills me is I don't know how hiring managers are reacting to my cv, do they just plain hate it? Am I really not good enough? Is it because I'm American? What is it!!! 

Rejections are so disheartening:

So I recall reading that the average job posting gets 300+ applications.  So essentially I'm competing against 299 other people for the same position. We've all been to school, done the training and are now all desperately vying for the same jobs. I know that rejection is all part of the process and eventually I am going to get an email that isn't a rejection but its is difficult to not feel bad about myself when I get rejection after rejection.

There is also this constant feeling of being unwanted.  Job = acceptance, acceptance = wanted, wanted = valuable.  If your offered a job, it means that there are people out there that say "hey, your talented and we want you to be part of this company because we think that you are great".  If no one is offering you a job what does that mean? 

I've also found that I feel ashamed for being unemployed. Family and friends ask me how work is going and I instantly put my head down and murmur that I' still looking. They give the usual response of "something will come along", "have you thought about just taking any old job", "keep trying", "have you applied to very many".  Its embarrassing!  There are times when I don't want to visit family or friends because I don't want to have to explain that I'm still an unemployed loser.  

Looking for a job is a full time job, I spend on average 9 hours a day (five sometimes six days a week) combing job sites, writing out cover letters and customising my cv to match the job description.  So to work 40+ hours a week and see nothing positive come from it for months on end (i.e.a job) its is disheartening and wearing me down.  I have gone from a confident museum professional with years of experience ready to tackle the next project to someone that is wondering if she's even good enough to work at McDonalds.