I’ve been thinking about my then-girlfriend recently. She’s not my girlfriend now, of course, but she was then. Then was a different time, when children frolicked in the pastures and lambs gamboled, too, although neither children nor lambs were mine. Come to think of it, neither were the pastures, but things were freer then, you could walk through the countryside without owning it, without worrying about someone with a shotgun chasing you away, making you move at a much faster pace than a mere gambol.
So you begin to see why in thinking about my then-girlfriend, with whom I had so many fond memories, I have begun to feel a little nostalgic.
“My then-girlfriend.” It rolls trippingly off the tongue, doesn’t it? My. Then. Girlfriend. Of course, back then, the concept of “my then-girlfriend” had never even occurred to me, wasn’t even in the realm of possibility. There was no then-ness to my existence then, or to hers. We were now. It is etern...
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...nds over the years. But the good thing about that, come to think of it, is that even if she’s obese by now, my then-girlfriend is not. And never will be. My then-girlfriend exists only in our memories and will exist only the way she was then.
That’s one of the things that keep me going. I look down at the scar on my right knee, where that dangerously jagged rock got me that afternoon so many years ago, and I think about her. My then-girlfriend. Perfect, or close enough.
In reading Carolyn Kay Steedman's Landscape for a Good Woman, two themes took center stage: Memories and Motherhood. As the book unfolds Steedman repeatedly points out that childhood memories are used by individuals for various purposes; rather than objective recollections dominated by facts, she proposes that they are more subjective in nature, likely to alter with time or as circumstances dictate.
In order to accurately solve the problem of the foreclosure crisis the nation is currently in, one must look at the cause of the issue. To determine the cause, the history of foreclosures has to be looked at. The questions, “How long have foreclosures been around? In the past what was the cause of foreclosures? How was the problem fixed before? What are the similarities between now and then?” all need to be answered.
The last quarter twelve percent (12%) of American homes are in default of their loan, or in foreclosure. Add that to the previous four quarters and that is eight point seven (8.7) million homes in crisis. (Further on known as HIC's) The United States “Bail Out” helped major mortgage corporations, and their chief executive officers (CEO's), but not the families that are in, or were in these HIC's across America.
The frequency of foreclosure in our nation today is dangerously high. The strain from the recent economic downturn has put many families and individuals in a financial chokehold preventing them from being able to make their monthly mortgage payments. Consequently, many of these people feel they’ve punched a one-way ticket to foreclosure. With all these homes being foreclosed on, we face a very real crisis.
Modern society has made a sub-culture that lives in a reality that is not real. It is so far from the truth that the inhabitants of this sub-culture so often cannot live in both realities and have become a spectacle for others to marvel at. This sub-culture is made up of entertainers, millionaires, and athletes. The people in this group can range from newborns to death and some live on well after. The specimens that I find an interest in are the young ones that enter into this society not knowing well that their lives will never be the same. Britney Spears was just another victim of the society that brings into their prison.
Foreclosure in America has been a rising and prominent problem recently, and has destroyed many Americans hopes and dreams. Over 2.3 million homes were foreclosed in 2008, and an estimated four million homes will be foreclosed by the end of this year. Despite the efforts of many banks and lending companies, over half of homes will foreclose that have received their help. I believe that we have only started in the right direction in solving the foreclosure crisis. Giving money and lowering mortgage rates will help, but I believe we should find out why Americans are in this situation in the first place. We are being too stereotypical when we think the only reason someone is foreclosing is because of irresponsible payments or buying a home out of a person’s capabilities to pay for it. If we understand their situation, we will be better enabled to help and solve their crisis.
...arate occasions; first time in the late nineties, as a betrothed, migrating temporarily to the western state; second time four years later, a ring added, and everything else the same. She lured me into her sensuous web with promises of heathen desire. Now U2 plays and other memories from my teens and early twenties come as I race across streets, bang on cars, rush to join a crowd that I no longer see, so keen and now … different. The girl, English accent, cute in my shirt, stands on the front porch after one of the many sexual expeditions, a relationship based on sex, drunken sex, never sober, and I have the customary cigarette while two other friends sit inside my shadowy glow. They feel my passion, or the remnants.
I have a lot of fond memories looking back on my childhood. My dad’s parents had a house on Granbury Lake; it was a kid’s paradise. I grew up fishing, which is my favorite thing to do, boating, water skiing, 4-wheeling, anything you could do outdoors we did it. My grandparents had a massive garden and rows of fruit trees that lined their properly. We would wake up early in the morning to help Pa Pa woke in the garden. Being from the city, we that this was the coolest thing ever. As a reward for our hard work, Na Na would treat us to a snack of fresh cherry tomatoes from the garden. Although, she would always call them little boy and little girl tomatoes. Night time was my favorite out at the lake because that’s when the fire flies would come out. Every evening around dusk we would get our mason jars, poke holes in the lids, and wait to spot the first lightning bug. We didn’t have to wait long until the whole night sky
I met her in the autumn right after she had taken a terrible fall going to her mailbox and I was hired by her family as an in home aide. Her name was Jane* and she became a fast friend and provided me with never to be forgotten lessons that cant be taught within the walls of a school. Jane took the time to prove to me that I was worth loving and showed me unconditional love that at the time I couldn’t find. In the end all I have left are a few cherished memories, a pearl necklace, and some of the best lessons in life.
Contrary to popular belief, being a good doctor is about much more than simply completing surgeries, diagnosing illnesses, and prescribing medicine. For the best possible treatment, a doctor must analyze every piece of information. He must look at the patient’s medical history, consider their personal background, decide which symptoms are relevant to the problem, determine how reliable the patient is (mental state), and more. This requires greater skills than simply rote memorization from a medical book. As opposed to a routinized education, which drills a student to be good at a particular skill (like a machine), the liberal education that I have planned aims to create a ‘whole person’, one who is capable of analyzing any situation, identifying it’s problems, and proposing solutions. It will build the invaluable skills of creativity, critical thinking, ability to connect with others, and a spirit of inquiry, all of which will greatly enhance my future medicinal career.
I can surely say that I won't be able to forget about our love story. You were the most beautiful thing that could ever happen in my life. The most tender feeling I have ever endured. Having you in my life and having the opportunity to meet you brought warmth, love, and passion to my heart and soul. The fact that we decide to go separate ways has filled my heart with coldness, sadness and fear, not knowing if you would ever come back to me and perhaps you would forget me bring tears to my eyes.
Once upon a time I was tall and thin and on the outside all evidence pointed to a much healthier version of myself. I was thin, I exercised 3 or 4 times a week and did everything I knew to do to maintain my weight and keep my physical body in good shape. There are times I look at myself in a photo and I barely recognize that person from 20 or even 10 years ago.
I have met many people so far in this life, but the person I enjoy remembering the most is my husband Jeff. He was born and raised in Tennessee. He is six feet tall, weighs two hundred sixty seven pounds,he has dark brown eyes, and such a nice smile. His hair is jet black with just a few silver and white strands throughout. He is a very big and strong character of a man. And yet he is the most gentle, kind and caring man that I have ever met. Jeff has a sexy southern drawl to his voice. The one person who has influenced my life greatly is my husband, the first reason being because of his positive attitude, his intelligence, and the way he expresses his love.
Now some of us, in pondering our biggest regret, probably think immediately of a relationship we've had. Here are some examples:
Ah, I remember how she used to be with me all the time. A day did not go by without me going over to play. I remember how we used to play for hours and hours. We played whatever came to mind; it didn’t matter as long as we were together. We were happy.