Pond Hopper

Life in the UK test

I just found out that in order to get my next Visa (indefinite leave to remain), I need to pass a 'Life in the UK' test.  I just ordered my handbook.  By the time I take the test, I'll know more about this country than Wayne (I asked him some sample questions and he didn't know too many answers).  I took a practice test on-line and failed.  The real test takes 45 minutes and I have to pass before they will give me the next Visa.  It seems unfair considering we plan to move back to the states next year, but it's what I have to do to stay here until that happens.  I need to apply for the visa in August so I have time, but it's still unnerving.  The only good thing about it is that after I get the visa, I'll be able to come and go as I please without having to get another visa - ever. 

My biggest misadventure...

Looking for blogging topics, I looked on a blogging website that suggested writing about a time I was in grave danger -  I then realized I had a story worth sharing...

When I was 19 years old, I was held up at gunpoint in a bank robbery. It was a Friday night after closing. My manager and I were alone in the bank and leaving for the night  - while walking out the back door, a man in a ski mask and holding a gun jumped us and forced us back inside. I screamed and he shoved me through the door telling me to be quiet. He walked us over to the alarm system, had my manager shut it down and then led us over to the vault. He told my manger, Donna to open it and then put the gun to my head. This terrified her and in a panic, she struggled to get the combination right. She tried multiple times and began to cry. I remember seeing spots in front of my eyes and feeling like I was going to pass out, but thinking I would leave Donna alone to handle the situation, I quickly composed myself and asked her to try and relax before attempting to open the vault again. I told her just do what he said and we’d be ok (he had already told us that he wasn’t going to hurt us). At one point I turned and looked at him and for a second, he looked at me almost familiar before realizing I shouldn’t be looking at him and yelled for me to turn around. Because of how he looked at me, I thought to myself he had to young and then thought how scared he must have been as well. Donna finally got the vault open and he forced us inside, handed us a couple of bags and ordered us to fill them with the money from the teller drawers that were there in the vault (unaware that there was a lot more money in another location close by). Angry by what was happening, I put explosive dye packs of fake money into the bag I was filling. Donna looked at me surprised as if I shouldn’t do anything that would make him angry, but I just thought – ‘Hold me up at gunpoint – I’ll show you’ and proceeded to add the dye packs. The dye packs are fake money that has a small explosive devise in them filled with tear gas and red dye. 30 seconds after leaving the bank, they detonate and explode making the money unusable and fill the air with tear gas. We handed him the bags of money. He told me to tell him which car was mine and demanded my car keys. Knowing the dye packs would go off after leaving the bank, I though – just my luck – it had to be MY car. I gave up my keys and told him which car it was. He told us he was going to shut us in the vault, but not to worry because he wouldn’t turn the lock. We’d be trapped but we’d get out eventually. He shut us in and we were left to finally take in what was happening. We hugged and Donna cried in my arms.

It’s funny what goes through your mind at times of distress. I remember thinking if I got out of the experience alive, I was going to track down the man I loved and get him back. He was with a woman he didn’t love. It was me he loved – me he should be spending his life with and if I got out of there I was going to tell him just that. I hated that when it was over, he wouldn’t be outside waiting for me. He would be there to comfort me and I was going to make sure it was never going to be like that again.

Donna was a mess. I told her it was okay and we had to find a way out. There were no air vents in the vault, no phones to get help and if we were trapped until morning we may not survive. I told her we had to get a hold of ourselves and get out of there. We began searching for a way to open the door. There wasn’t a handle on the inside. Then I remembered Greg. Greg was the runner for the bank. He brought documents from branch to branch for any internal business. He was a geeky guy that the girls picked on shamelessly but he always laughed it off and seemed to enjoy the mocking. He once told me a story that the girls locked him in the vault and he bragged to me (on more than one occasion) that he found a way out. - I said to Donna, remember what Greg said about how he got out when you locked him in?? We tried to remember the details and soon got the door open.

Donna ran to the phone to call the police. I don’t know why, but I ran for the back door. The door was open and the air was filled with smoke. My car door was open and with the interior lights on, it looked eerie seeing the glow of the lights in the dark of night and smoke filled air. On the ground was one of the bags of money and there was red dye everywhere. Out of nowhere, police cars came flying into the parking lot where I was standing. They got out, drew their guns and told me not to move. Fed up with guns for one night, I screamed for them to put the guns away – that I’d had just about enough of guns in my face. They must have seen the dye on the ground and thought the worst. Realizing I was a victim and not a suspect they put their guns down and walked over to make sure I was ok.

It was a long night that night. The bank was being taken over by the government so the president of the bank didn’t feel it was his responsibility to come and take care of things. We weren’t allowed to leave because after a hold up, a bank employee needed to be present at all times during the investigation. Police came from every surrounding town. Even the military police from a near by army base (it wasn’t a kind of town big things happened very often and they all wanted a piece of it). The FBI arrived as well. Being 19, I thought they were the coolest thing ever. One of them was extremely handsome, well built and quite tall. He was right out of the movies. We were there for hours on end waiting for the bank president to step up and let us leave. When he didn’t show, I stood there and watched the FBI agent call him and threaten to go over to his house and drag his ass back in his pyjamas. He said – you WILL come and let these ladies go home. I think the bottom line was that they were sick of my mother raising hell outside because they wouldn’t let her in to see me (It was a crime scene after all). Out of spite eventually, they let my brother in for a few words, but made her wait outside. It’s still funny looking back now. She was never an easy woman.

The bank president showed up around 2am (the hold up took place a little after 8) and we were finally permitted to leave. I remember I didn’t cry until I was alone in my bed that night. I didn’t allow myself to be very scared before that moment, but there alone in the dark, I cried myself to sleep.

 

It's all happening

Wayne and I are officially trying to have a baby.  It feels weird announcing it to the world before telling half my friends and family, but half my friends and family are not as easily accessible and I just needed to say it to try and make it feel a bit less surreal.  I can't really put into words all that I'm feeling.  I'm terrified and excited all at the same time.  I have a new thought and new emotion every minute.  I've been ready for a while now.  Hell, I've been ready for years.  I guess I've just been waiting for the right time - not to mention the right man.  Who would have thought it would have taken so long?  I guess I've also been waiting for the green light from Wayne (it is a joint venture after all).  I got it in a rather unexpected way over the weekend and I'm still a bit overwhelmed.  I cried when he let me know.  It's funny, I knew he loved me and planned to spend his life with me, but having the confirmation in such a way is really beautiful.  I'm not saying I doubted him, but this experience has just made me realize the scale of how he feels so much more. 
Woman know from an early age that they want a family.  For most of us, it's an innate desire we can't control or explain, but I don't think it's the same for men.  It comes later with love and maturity.  Deep down, I know my husband would like to wait a few more years, but loving me and knowing that waiting any longer would make me unhappy has made him re-evaluate his priorities.  This is a true act of love and I am so grateful to be loved in such a way.  With any luck, we're going to be a family.  It's all happening - everything was waiting for.

Big things on my mind...

Keeping this blog is tricky at times.  More times than not, I write when I need to feel more connected to the rest of the world.  It's 9:30 in the morning.  Wayne has left for work and until I go to the gym later today, I won't speak to another soul until it's at least late enough to call someone back home.  I have big things on my mind; things that seem inappropriate to share with the rest of the world rather than someone I'm close to.  This is what makes this blog so tricky.  When is it just plain inappropriate to blog about what's on my mind?  Maybe it's not so much this blog that makes it difficult -  maybe it's living here and not having a circle of friends to go to when I need to share the very personal aspects of my life.  Sometimes I feel very cut off.  Sometimes I can just scream out of the frustration of it all.  It's been nearly three years and I want more than anything to just get used to it being this way.  I want more than anything to just accept it as it is and be fine with it.  It appears it's not going to happen. 
All I want to do right now is call my friends and meet them for lunch so I can discuss the big things that are on my mind.  Instead, I'll throw myself into the work I have to do to distract myself, wait for it to be late enough to be able to call the states, and hope I get through to someone who has some time to talk...

Just being honest...

I've gotten a few emails since yesterday's post from people trying to make me feel better about the email I got from the girl telling me I seem to have a weight problem.  First, let me just say that I wasn't fishing for compliments.  I am aware that I'm not 'obese', but I do have a scale and a mirror.  I was just really being honest about how it feels to be heavier than I've ever been.
After posting the picture of Wayne and I on the London eye, the one thing people said after seeing it was:  Did you lose weight?  You look so much thinner than you did last time you came home.  Sadly, I haven't really lost too much weight at all since my last visit, but apparently people noticed I needed to.  This is a difficult realization for me (but not at all something I didn't already know). 
During our last visit, I put on an outfit I had just bought.  It was a long cowl-neck sweater that I wore with leggings and a pair of ballet type flats.  It was an outfit very similar to something I probably wore in Jr. High School so I felt a bit self conscious about wearing it.  Wayne and I went to breakfast and ran a few errands before returning to the hotel to pick up some Christmas gifts we needed to bring with us to my mother's house that day.  Wayne kept looking at me funny all morning.  I kept asking - what?  Am I too old for this outfit?  Do I look silly?  He said no and I dismissed his looks until he did it again at the hotel.  I asked again.  He finally said,  'It's just that I think your legs jiggle in those leggings'.  Horrified, I screamed THEY JIGGLE?? and proceeded to walk back and forth in front of the mirror.  I then had a complete and utter hissy fit!  THEY JIGGLE AND YOU LET ME GO OUT LIKE THAT??  I wasn't mad that he said it, I was mad that he let me walk around like that!  I carried on for a little while about it, changed and retired the newly bought leggings to my never to be worn again category of clothing.
My best friend and I had a very frank conversation the other day about what it feels like to all of a sudden realize we're never going to be the girls we used to be.  I would love to be fine with that.  I'd love to say it doesn't matter.  I'd love to be happy with myself now, but I can't help but notice when I look in the mirror that I see someone I didn't expect to see.  The thing is that in my mind, I'm still that same girl.  It's just when I pick something out in a store for her and try it on as the woman I am, I'm always disappointed when I just can't seem to pull it off.
I know it's a part of getting older, but I want to get pregnant and I know with that my body will change drastically and I worry I'll become one of those woman that has a baby and is never recognisable again.  My mother tells me it happens to the best of of us and the fact that it matters will make all the difference when it comes to losing the weight after the baby.  It's the ones that stop caring that end up forever changed.  Considering she's had three kids, is over 60 and still looks great - I really hope she's right.

An ego boost...

A guy walked into a parked car while checking me out today.  Is it horrible that it made my day?  Hell, who am I kidding? It made my week!  Granted, I was walking out of the gym, wearing a form fitting top and reaching back to put on my jacket at the time.  Men and tits - they really make me laugh.  Poor bastard did it right in front of a workman working on the building next to us.  The workman called down to him saying - nice one!  I kept walking, smiling to myself and pretending not to notice.  Word got around the gym and a little while later, my trainer txt me saying 'Good job, Hart!'
I've been feeling fat and horrible lately (still struggling to lose the last 10 - 15 lbs I desperately wanted to lose before I get pregnant).  A couple of weeks ago, a random stranger that looked at my photo gallery on this site, emailed me to tell me I appear to have a weight problem and asked if I've tried weight watchers.  She ended with - you have such a pretty face - it would be a shame for you to become obese.  Obese?? Christ!  I was feeling like crap about my weight that day anyway.  Getting that email just made it worse.  I responded to her by saying: 'Thanks, you're a real charmer' and left it at that.  It wasn't what I wanted to say, but it wasn't worth saying anything more. After that experience, today's events gave me a much needed, shameless ego boost.  Does that make me vain - yes.  Does it make me a little bit sad - maybe, but I'll take it anyway.

Our day in London...

Well, I did it - I went on the London eye and it was really cool.  I only got dizzy a couple of times when I looked straight down.  Other than that it wasn't scary at all.  I was too busy taking pictures most of the time.  Unfortunately, it was really overcast and the photos didn't come out as nice as I would have liked. I really enjoyed the ride and hope to go back when the weather is better.

I wish I could say the rest of our day went as well as our ride on the London Eye, but sadly, it was not the case.  Although it was really nice to see our friends, the journey into London put a real damper on the day - The train lines were being worked on between our town and London.  We couldn't get a direct train in, so we were forced to take the train to a station in between and take a bus to the station that was going into London.  The first train took 30 minutes (during which we were stuck sitting next to two drunk guys that were on their way to a soccer match - at 10:30 in the morning no less.  We think they may have been drunk from the night before).  Upon arrival to the next station, we had to wait 30 minutes for the bus to leave.  When we saw the driver studying a map, we had a pretty good idea that our journey may not be a smooth one.  Apparently, he was not a bus driver by trade because he not only didn't know where he was going, but he never went over 25 miles per hour the entire time - 90 minutes later, we reached the next station to pick up the train into London.  The train also seemed to be going extremely slow and we finally arrived in London 30 minutes later.  It was the trip from hell.  What should have taken no more than 90 minutes took 3 frustrating hours (so if we look a mess - it's because we were by the time we got there)! 

By the time we arrived we weren't in the best of moods.  Our friends had plans that night and we only got a few hours with them before we had to take the same journey back.  On the way back, the bus driver was a real bus driver and instead of going too slow, he drove a bit too fast and sitting in the back of the bus - we got a bit knocked around.  In the scheme of things - it could have been worse because the bus ride only took about an hour going back so instead of 3 hours it was 2 and a half.
Next time we go to London, we'll be sure to look at the train schedule before we leave the house - the journey by car would probably only taken 2 hours.  Live and learn.