ME? Moving? Ha! Ha!

It’s been a long time since I have shared. For that I must apologize. But you know how life is; just when you think you have a handle on life, you are tested.

Since 2015, I have moved on in ways that I never imagined.

 

RAIN

CHEERS! BON JOUR! AND WHAT’S UP PEOPLES?

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“So what brings you to London,” said a local shopkeeper.

“I have always wanted to come, so I did.”

How cool is that? If only my mom were alive. I imagine she is up there saying, “That’s my Melissa baby.”

There is so much to see, to learn, and to explore. And my running tale was that I wanted to sneak in to have tea with the Queen. She seems like such a nice older woman.

Remember the couple who crashed the party at the White House? Well, that was going to be me at the Palace. I didn’t have it in me. Maybe next time.

If it worked out, I would have shared my experiences from an English jail. LOL. They would have understood, right? I am an American. I am curious about how they live. I also have a few questions for the Queen.

And since I am back in the states, I can say anything that I want. J

Naw, I’ll leave it alone.

Seriously, though, London was a cool place. Many parts reminded me of the Big Apple. The main difference was the architecture. Interesting buildings. And I loved the double decker buses. Melissa is on the move.

Yep. That’s me. I am the one moving on. That means that as life darkens, I keep pointing my little flashlight along the path. I am determined to see, and so I shall.

One Saturday, as I drove to Costco to get a prescription and some bananas, something came to me. I was smiling. I was hopeful. I was looking forward to the future.

It was a weird feeling. I almost felt as if I should have called my doctor. I realized that I was happy.

It was 16° F. I was exhausted. My right & left shoulder, right hand, left ankle, back, sinuses, head, left leg, and upper tooth were aching profusely. I missed my son. But I was happy—for the moment.

Moments of depression always come and go. A few things were beginning to look up.

I was scared. I was alone. I was lonely. But I was happy.

A part of my happiness could have been my planned trip. What do you think?

 

                              *                      *                       *                      *

 

For those of you who read the February Movers And Shakers, I guess I owe you an explanation. I promised to explain more about my ride—the ride of my life.

A man on the Eiffel Tower noticed that I was afraid of heights. Though the view was more than breathtaking, my knees shook as I tried to get closer to the edge. Even today—weeks later—I still feel as if it were all a dream. Life has truly taken its shots at me in the past few years. It makes you lose hope.

The man who spoke to me seemed friendly. He told me that he was from Wales—another place that I must see someday. After chatting for a bit and taking in a few sights, he told me that he was having lunch and then going for a boat tour. I walked around the tower, found a shop, bought a couple of things, found the loo and ran into him again. He was looking for the first floor. I tried to help. It wasn’t as simple as it would seem.

Long story short, we had lunch in the Eiffel Tower restaurant, went on a boat tour together, took a walk for a bit, and had a beer and wine in a small café. We talked about me going shopping for a while. We talked about me catching my train. There was a bit of confusion with the London/Paris time difference; I wasn’t sure if my ticket was in London time or Paris time.

Before long, it was time that I got a taxi to the tube station. He hailed me a taxi, and got in with me. As we rode and embraced each other, he continued nudging the driver to go faster. When we arrived at the station, he tried getting directions to the Eurostar gate. Someone mentioned a lift. We looked around and saw no lift. Frantically searching, I tried not to scream while he stayed composed.

Who knows what the future holds for me and my friend. What I do know is that my recent experiences have taught me that we should never close our hearts. In recent years, I have been somewhat pessimistic when it came to relationships.

Guess what everyone? The cliché is possible. Love at first sight is possible. Do you know how I know? Well……………….

It has happened to me.

Yep, I’m moving on. In what direction, I’m not sure. I will get back to you on that one.

WORDS TO REMEMBER, LITERALLY…

By Melissa Flynn

Office PicJune
Busy
Tired
Confused
Inspired
Home
Rowe
MA
Good
Inspirational Woman
May
WDRC
Shoulder
LWV
Embrace
The Sun
Sy Syfransky
Dent
Business Expo
Movers And Shakers, MAS
Moving On
Health and Wellness Symposium
Query
Agents
Memoir
Nervous
Happy
Love
Mommy

Just a few words while I’m moving on. If you have any questions, feel free to ask.

WHAT?

Stuck

We need a heat wave.

We need a heat wave.

By Melissa Flynn

Ok. I’m so tired. I’m achy. My brain is overloaded. And I’m tired.

Why are you supposed to care, you ask? You aren’t. I’m venting, as we women like to do. There was no one around to vent to. So I let my fingers do the talking, as they say. Or is it “fingers do the walking?” I’m not sure, but I think you get my point.

Anyway, I came to the realization that I’m getting older. I saw another gray hair. It was small, but it was there. I’m going to be just like Dionne Warwick and Jamie Lee Curtis; I’m going to gray gracefully.

I feel as if people try halting old age. You can be gray and vibrant just as well as you can have no gray and be vibrant. I just don’t see a purpose in hiding my gray hair.

So when I turn 60, I’m sure that I will be fully gray. If I’m not, feel free to call me on it. I hereby swear to not dye my grays. This doesn’t mean that I won’t get highlights, from time to time.

If anyone is wondering what all this has to do with me ‘moving on,’ I will explain. It’s actually really simple. As I move on, I’ve got all kinds of crazy stuff going through my head. I always find it easier to get it out—write it down. I didn’t say it fixes anything. It just makes it easier.

So as I get old, grow and get ‘gray-er,’ I shall share.

The Blizzard of 2013 has locked me indoors. What better time than this to share? Don’t get me wrong. There are people outside working on clearing a path. But my only current option is to climb out a window and scale the roof. My ailments have ruled that out as a real plan.

So I read, clean, write, clean, email, eat, play with my hair and watch British television. I love hulu.com and Acorn TV.

How can I move on, when I can’t get out? LOL. This is where the sharing thing comes back in. I need to share—to vent. Everyone has their methods. Feel free to try out some of mine, or just test some of your own.

“What works for me may not work for you. But if you keep at it, what works for you will become evident.” A quote from a speech of mine.

I’m not sure why it bothers me to be stuck in the house because of the snow. Most weekends, I’m in working anyway. I guess it’s the idea of my options being limited to indoor activities.

There is a chance that my week could start without me. It’s Sunday, and my Wednesday meeting has already cancelled. Maybe we can be like school. Have make-up days. If I miss everything from Monday to Wednesday, I can make them all up in June.

That sounds great. I will wake up tomorrow and start calling my bill collectors. Got to get them ‘up’ on the new plan.

Wait. Do my bill collectors have to sign off on it before it’s a plan? Naw. It’s my plan. I’m the one moving on.
So everyone out there, make your own plan.

“It’s never too late! Get out [I mean figuratively, not literally, of course, if you live in New England]! Get up! Be productive!” Just something I heard Melissa Flynn say along the way.

Oh wait! That’s me again. 🙂