Foof in a box

Heartbreak Hotel

2011-07-04T15:26:00.017+01:00

So here I sit, my chest cavity ripped open and laid bare for all to see... minus the heart that once beat there.

I feel like the gaping, bloody hole where my heart used to sit is now empty. Vacant. Space to let.

It's dramatic, yes. BUT if you let youself go there, anyone who has ever had the misfortune to have fallen in love and felt the unbearable sting of a break up will know that these words barely scratch the surface of how it feels when you're in that place.

When your heart has been crumpled, battered and shattered into a billion pieces it feels like the world is ending. Yet, miraculously over time, it repairs itself. Not just once or twice but Every. Single. Time.

Don't be fooled though, there is a price to pay. Whenever it manages to regroup, it is always minus a few pieces which are so destroyed that they disappear - Never to be seen again. Lost forever to the person who broke it.

These pieces eventually fill with scar tissue resulting in a heart that is tougher than the original, but now unsightly and a constant reminder of what has been. The heart never looks as it did when it first felt the tender flush of first love but it does grow stronger and a little bit tougher with each bit of heartache.

Each break-up is a lesson too. If you're smart, you don't make the same mistakes more than once because scar tissue is tougher to break... but it takes longer to heal.

This, as with everything else on the personal development journey, is easy to say and difficult to do in real life.

In that fragile state, my personal emotional array goes from one extreme to another within seconds. Anger, Denial, Pain, Loss, Relief, Acceptance, Sadness, Indifference and Hope. I churn through these emotions at an alarming rate and my own unfortunate disposition is that, mostly, what's in my emotions shows up clearly on my face.

This is the cycle for me...

I think about everything then I can't concentrate on anything else. I feel sick. My heart beats too fast. My palms get sweaty and I think i might pass out.

Then, without rhyme or reason, I calm down again and my logical self takes over for a while allowing me some recovery time and a false sense of security...

...before religiously giving way to irrational fear, doubt, guilt and self loathing... and the cycle begins again.

It's endless and exhausting.

All this and the trauma of missing that person and not being able to talk to them means that I end up completely wiped out. Sure, I can get through work and keep it together for the general public but when I go home and shut the door it feels like there is no strength left to fight it.

This ends in either tears, unscrupulous alcohol abuse or overeating. The latter two thirds of which I secretly enjoy... but they never truly ease the pain or fill the void.

I always try to keep in mind all of my logical faculties. I know that these things just get a little better every day. I know the logical responses which should be adhered to... I'm just not the best at sticking to my own sound advice.

Eventually, the ability to keep it all 'in check' returns in minimal increments over weeks and months. Then one day you wake up and you forget to remember that you were ever sad at all... which in itself is kind of sad.

Who knows where I am currently on the sliding scale of heartbreak repair. If only there were a heartbreak repair kit, like a bicycle repair kit that could just keep the damn thing going until it mended itself.

The person who invents a cure for heartbreak (other than overeating, moaning to your friends and drinking wine in mahoosive measures) could technically rule the world. Fact.

Until then though... i'll just keep breathing in and out... putting one foot in front of the other... Living in the moment...and trying not to eat too much chocolate.

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3

Foof

x

Friendly Fires...

2011-06-13T22:44:00.007+01:00

Have you ever stopped to think that there is potentially a huge difference between people who you THINK are your friends, and the ones who truly are there for you no matter what?

Most people choose not to notice. It's not something that we want to have our eyes opened up to - how many people aren't as close as we first imagined them to be. What a bloody depressing thought, but, hear me out.

There are certain characteristics of true friendship that we all agree on... Friends you can get angry with and they don't mind but who crucially, can get angry at you too.Who will never judge you, no matter what idiocy you get involved in next. They know your favourite song isn't really 'Hallelujah' by Jeff Buckley... it's Steps '5,6,7,8' but they never tell anyone or make fun of you. At least never in earshot of anyone who would let your secret out.

More than that though, what makes each friendship special is entirely personal to those two people. There are no two friendships alike - like snowflakes! Whether it's shared experiences, differing opinions or a love-to-hate-you banter that keeps the friendship home fires burning... it's a one off experience unlike any other. When you think about friendship like that, it becomes really wonderful. Something that should always be cherished.

I'm lucky to have a couple of people who know every single bad move I've ever made and who still think i'm great. Lucky for them, the feeling is 100% mutual.

The hard part... and it's something that only really dawns on you after a long time of ignoring the obvious signs... is when someone you really care about doesn't hold you in the same high regard.

You can ignore it for a while. You brush it off and tell yourself that they are just busy in their hectic life. Maybe they really are too busy to squeeze you in.

Some people truly do live their lives like that, cramming people into every corner and every inch of their weekly schedule... but mostly, that's not the case. Sooner or later, reality seeps in.

The truth is, there's a hierarchy, a frienderarchy. A pecking order, if you will.

Not only does it exist but frankly my dear... they just don't give enough of a damn about you to reply to that text you sent last week.

Don't try to deny it - you know it because you have a hierarchy of your very own. Yes, you do!

and... before you get too high and mighty, we are all guilty of being both the offender, and the offendee.

Everyone has those people in their lives who you always reply to as soon as they get in touch. They're the ones so close that they divulge secrets to you that you'd probably sooner not know, but who you love dearly regardless.

These are the people who you'd call in the middle of the night when something truly awful happens. They are at the top of the food chain. In your eyes, they are the cream of the crop, the shiniest stars in your sky.

Then you have the friends who you love, but who aren't QUITE as close to the inner workings of your crazy mind... who don't know every dark secret, but still know enough to incriminate you in a court of law.

You probably wouldn't call these friends in the middle of a crisis... but you would definitely speak to them the next day. They are your B plus students in the school of friendship.

The next tier probably don't know many of your secrets at all, but they're hellova fun on a night out... and so it goes on.

If you were at the top of the hierarchy, you'd know. We're just not honest about it and as a consequence, people get hurt when they realise that they aren't as high up as they thought they were.Or when they find out that the place that they sit in on your hierarchy, is lower than your position on theirs - You only rated them 3*** and they gave you the full 5***** Madonna treatment.

The other important thing to know, is that your position on the chain is not permanent. Some frienderarchies change every month. Others stay relatively static. However, it is possible to get knocked off the top spot and sometimes it's not immediately obvious that this has happened.

It's a tough lesson. There is a little part of you that never recovers from the fickle inequality of social standings.

It chews you up, spits you out and can definitely cause some permanent emotional scarring if you let it.

What it does teach you though, is hugely valuable - Don't take the real friends for granted and lose yourself in a sea of people who don't give you the 5 star rating you deserve.

Keep those friends close and tell them how much they mean to you...because life is short and we waste a lot of it trying to impress people who will never give as much as they take.

You are lucky to have people in your life who love you and you should cherish them always.

Alternatively... if you don't fancy cherishing your mates and you are in full on self destruct mode ready to throw your friendships on the proverbial bonfire, at least have the decency to do it on national television with a braying audience and a smug chat show host throwing insults at you. (Jeremy Kyle anyone?)

As the big man Jerry Springer himself used to say... "Look after yourselves... and each other."

<3 Foof

xxxx

looking out for a hero

2011-05-22T22:22:00.003+01:00

As a little girl i watched countless films and cartoons and read fairy tales about strong, confident men saving the female leads from wicked witches, dark wizards, jealous stepmothers and all kinds of evil and treachery. I could look back at these stories and scoff at the weak portrayal of femininity and the old fashioned notion that these men, these heroes, will come and save us from whatever darkness is threatening.

I've read blogs and features about how we're spoonfed these ideals to brain-wash women into thinking that they are the weaker sex... however, i don't really buy into that. Our society doesn't look favourably on that ideology and I certainly don't think that the young women of generations to come will take ANY kind of sexism lying down. So dissecting fairytales and their underlying themes, well... that is not my pressing concern.

What i can say about it though, is that some part of it did seep into my brain and stick there. Not so much the part about the 'weaker sex', just the part about heroism and romantic idealistic situations where men would step in and try to 'save' the heroines in their lives.

In love, I think that romantic gestures are everything. Not roses all over my bedroom or knights on white steeds in shiny armour to whisk me away, but a more realistic expectation that... even when it gets tough, men will fight for what they believe in and the people they love. In this day and age, it's unlikely to be dragons or wicked stepmothers that are the problem. Not always, but mostly. It's more likely to be something a lot more mundane but nevertheless these minor issues can still warrant a bit of heroism. right? If I argue with a boyfriend and he is in the wrong... is it childish and impractical of me to think that he might arrive at my door unbidden and apologise? Saying sorry if you've been a twat, or standing up for your girl if someone else is upsetting her, or driving to the airport in a last ditch attempt to stop her from leaving your life forever (sorry i think i got sidetracked by some mental romantic film montage there) is modern day heroism. It's simple to do, so why does it happen so infrequently??

I fantasise (and it has NEVER been proven in reality) that if I give my heart to someone and they hurt me (even in a very minor way), that they will turn up and face the music - they'll fight to fix it and win backmy affection. Similarly I have to say that, if I have been a twat (which almost never happens - ha) then i should make an equal effort to make it ok. It's probably ridiculous and it has clearly not been helped by my addiction to romance (as aformentioned in my previous blog on 'Romantic film abusers anonymous'), but if i'm upset at a guy, he could make a LOT of amends by just turning up on my doorstep, telling me from the heart that I matter to him and that he wants to fix it. Call me sad if you like, but there it is.

I may be alone in this, but as independent as I am, sometimes I just want someone to show me with a gesture that they mean business. Surely everyone wants to feel like that?? I blame Cinderella and Snow White and Sleeping Beauty. They were all classy broads capable of getting stuff done independently (at least they are in my head) but when the shit hit the fan, they all needed a prince charming to to kiss them better. That is the long lasting effect of being told fairytales. I'm impressionable even now, but my mind didn't stand a chance against that rose-tinted vision of utopia as a child.

I could go even further into the depths of my twisted and fanastical brain and bring out the big guns... my love for superheroes and all things of a 'super' nature. I will try to keep it to a minimum though. Superheroes represent (to me) a type of man who is strong, courageous and inherently good. They face up to bad situations and always give 100%. On the down side though, they usually have some pretty tragic love lives since love appears to detract from them being 'super', so i won't continue with this train of thought.

Even the most fiercely independent women, when they fall in love, want to relinquish some of that control to their other half. It's kind of that handing over of control that seals the deal in the first place. To love someone, they have to have a bit of you and you a bit of them, right? In this day and age, it seems to me that men have lost their heroism. If a girl is gutsy and strong, she doesnt deserve the big romantic gesture.

Hey! Am I being punished for being able to look after myself? That sucks!

Huge amounts of sucking.

Or... there could be another answer to all this. Maybe, as strong independent women (Beyonce style - throw your hands up at meeee-eee) we need to let men take the lead sometimes. To BE that hero that we so want them to be. Maybe men think that we actually don't need them to be that strong character in our lives since we have so much strength of our own. Maybe we need to let them know that we'd like them to make the kind of gestures that make us feel all girly.

*sigh*

I guess, the lesson is that fairytales are just that. They're stories. There's romance in the smallest of things if that's how you choose to see it. Yes, we need a bit of grandeur in the way that someone chooses to show you they care at times, but appreciating it when someone unloads your dishwasher and tidies your flat before you come home, or asks you if you want a cup of tea and a hug when you have had a hard day at the office, is just as important.

I am always going to have a little part of me that's looking for a hero - i can't pretend any different. What's important is recognising the little heroic things that shine through when you least expect it.

Heroes these days don't tend to wear lycra, pants on the outside of their trousers, or masks while they go about their heroic deeds... but it doesn't make their kindness and their sincerity any less real. In fact, in many ways, i'd go so far as to say that i'm GLAD that reality isn't like that. Most men cant pull off tights either, so it's a win-win situation all round.

Fairytales and Superheroes are a ridiculous standard to set. If i was to set the bar at 'Prince Charming' i'd be single for life or eternally disappointed in what life had to offer. What i took away from it all was that i'd like a man who is a man. I don't need a castle or a glass slipper... I just want someone who fights in my corner regardless of the fact that i can look after myself.

Grand gestures don't have to be grand at all, but being man enough to show that you care makes you as charming as that Prince Charming dude could ever hope to be.

<3 Foof

happiness is...

2011-04-20T22:31:00.001+01:00

As i sit here contemplating the funny twists and turns life takes, it seems to me that writing about love, is (strangely) best done when you're single and mildly unhappy. Or hugely unhappy. Almost like, the creative gene gets switched off when you meet someone.

When you ARE happy, all sorts of mushy inappropriate, vomit-inducing slush seems to come out, quite unbidden. So, in order to truly be able to connect with ideas and aspirations about love and its effects on life... you can't be engaged in love, or anything approaching it.

I am of course prepared to be wrong about this, and actually... i sort of HOPE that i am, since... for the first time for a hugely long time... i am indeed, happily entangled with a boy.

It scares me to think that this blossoming romance may impede my ability to make interesting observations about life in general, and love inparticular.

You may scoff at the notion, but soppy relatationship stuff does seem to make other parts of your life (even when they go horribly wrong) altogether more enjoyable... therefore making comedy anger at real life injustices quite impossible. This is both sweet and disturbing, at the same time.

The annoying bit is, I quite like comedy anger.

Will this almost self-imposed creative injunction last, or is it just while you are in the first throes of new relationship haze that you suffer an inability to be articulate??

I guess we'll have to wait and see...

<3 Foof

xxx

3 steps to Henry...

2011-03-12T12:55:00.001Z

I had a genius thought today. There are literally only 3 steps between me and the delectable Henry Cavill. I called my sister to tell her the good news and to ask her if, since she is step one in my three steps to Henry programme, she would get me Henry for my 30th birthday. Or at least for my party. I think it's only fair!!!

In other news, I have had a horrendous couple of months. Realising that people aren't who you thought they were, is not a pleasant experience. However, it's an experience that i wouldn't change. It hurts now, sure, but in time my life will improve as I get over the hurt i feel now and move on to bigger and better things.

I'm not someone who judges people on what they do. Unfortunately, the same can't be said of everyone. It's a simple lesson i guess - not everyone is the same - and truthfully, the world would be dull if we were. I just believe in live and let live. Nothing is black and white and judging other peoples lives is not something I feel I have the authority to do. People and situations are complex and humans make mistakes... that's how i see the world, and nothing is going to change that. I know my weaknesses and I know I'm so far from being perfect that i can't even SEE perfect. Can you say the same?

One thing i will say though, I've got a whole new perspective on life. I have to thank my recent experiences for that. I'm growing as a person and no matter how hard it is, that's a positive thing. So thanks to the friends who let me down - without you I'd have never got this far.

<3 Fi xxx

If Carlsberg made babies....

2010-10-13T14:06:00.001+01:00

...they wouldn't even be half as cute as this one. Corrie Honeyman-Whitelaw: makes dribbling yoghurt all over the shop, look good!!

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A change will do you good...

2010-10-05T21:18:00.004+01:00

Change. I've never been one who enjoys it. Some people claim to, but I would argue that these people are big fat liars.

In fact it has generally had profoundly disturbing effects on me. It always seems to feel very negative and emotional. No matter how small the change may be on the outside... it still seems massive.

I fight against this tendency to look upon change unfavourably though, as I believe in my heart of hearts (when my logic is engaged) that change is, despite deceptive appearances, mostly GOOD.

Without change there is no progression or growth - this I know. Yet when change is thrust upon me, I am almost always unwilling. Sometimes HUMUNGOUS amounts of unwilling.

Then, without warning, I adapt and grow to love it. My backwards approach seems to just be how I process the information.

It's a bit like the 'Fiona-Simpson-seven-steps-to-accepting-change-programme' which goes something like this:

ANGER at the bare faced cheek of change insinutating it is required.
Then lashings of DENIAL and ignoring of any aforementioned requirement.
Followed wholeheartedly with copious amounts of RESENTMENT and gratuitous grumbling about said change. Next we almost certainly have (RELUCTANT) ACCEPTANCE of changing things. Then eventual ADAPTATION to new circumstance, moving swiftly onto EMBRACING of the change in question. Finally we arrive at ENJOYMENT and FULFILLMENT at new circumstance (and let's face it, probably saying it was my idea in the first place).

What am I banging on about you may ask. And, I shall tell you! It just might take a bit of explaining - so bear with me.

At the start of this year (the glorious 2010) I began to question my life and my choices in it and I approached this task with an anxious conviction and heartfelt soul searching that only twenty-somethings can muster.

Various feelings and questions began bubbling up inside me and yelled at me, each desperate to have their say. I did my very best to ignore these bubblings for quite some time, however they did not subside. I realised quickly that some kind of drastic change was needed in my life but accepting the notion and freely applying it are two very different things.

The feelings got stronger and stronger until I sat down and listened to them with my head in my hands.

People, as i said in my previous blog, seem to think that being true to yourself is a simple thing to carry out. Personally, i have always felt that the 'real me' is hiding. I always feel like I have yet to find the real Fiona. I catch glimpses of her, through the trees and she seems to be enjoying herself, but I cant quite get close enough to her to get a grasp on who I am and what I REALLY want from life. So, when it came to making decisions regarding being true to myself, and valuing myself to the detriment of some of the people (who i greatly value) in my life, I needed some help from my lovely mum. She gave me some much needed tips on 'How to listen to yourself 101'. The voice inside me telling me I was unhappy and expressing the distinct need for change had been suppressed for so long that I couldn't hear it any more, but the feelings were real enough. I didn't enjoy this part one bit.

I ummmed and ahhhed over the decisions I knew I would make and then finally summoned the courage to make them. I started out by being honest with people. It meant truly reflecting on my friends and their overall contribution to my happiness. Some of it I did on my own, and some it was forced upon me... and it was a painful process which is still fairly raw if I'm honest.

As a consequence, I now find myself in a position where some of the people I truly held dear are no longer a part of me and my life. Or at least, not in the same capacity as they once were. Of course, I still have my job... some of the same group of people around me, the same loving family but I guess, as a result of the changes, my priorities have shifted.

Ahh life-altering mind-bending soul-crushing change... how I wish I could meet your steely gaze with an equally strong and metallic facial expression and just nod my head, and say...

"Where to now, change? Let us joyfully go forth into the unknown!".

but, somehow, I can't see that happening any time soon.

However, as many tears as I have cried over it all, a sense of calm has also descended. I'm really beginning to feel like this change is ACTUALLY good.

Maybe, it's true what they say and the end of an era is just the beginning of the next one.

I can't say i know what is to come BUT... I can say that given the choice of continuing as I was or going with the change (despite not knowing what's in store)... I now choose the next chapter.

If that's not progress, I don't know what is.

Hurrah for change.

I wonder what's next...

(For the full recomended foof-blog experience, please imagine David Bowie's Ch-h-ch-ch-changes playing to you as you ponder on that....)

<3 xxx

Being yourself

2010-07-20T13:08:00.002+01:00

Have you ever been watching something randomly and it just hit the nail on the head of how you were feeling at that exact moment?

I was watching "My so-called life" and Angela said something along the lines of this...

"people always talk about 'being yourself' like it's this solid thing you should always know how to be..."

and BAM! That's how i feel. How can i 'be myself' when i dont know who i am??

I have a tendency to over analyse myself. Why i acted a certain way, or felt a certain way as if i have no control over it. Sometimes, i feel like i'm watching myself do things and later on i look back, and i'm either pleased or angry at myself for how it went. I cringe at things that other people don't even give a second thought to.

This is an example of how messed up my reactions to things can be...

My friend tells me she thinks i'm not happy. Internally i start questioning myself...what if i just genuinely fluctuate between happy and sad? What if i'm abnormal and i don't have the capacity to regulate my emotions like normal human beings?

Then i took it to the next level of unhappy... i could think was "Am i making HER unhappy with my unhappiness? Am i now affecting her too??"

err... WHAT!!!

The point is that she was worried about me, and she expressed her concern... which i tunred round and started to worry about how that made her feel.

I need to address this tendency, as clearly it's already out of control.

It's a tricky situation... and not one there's a tangible answer for. Noone can flick a switch and make everything alright.

Is everyone else in the dark too? Fumbling around trying to make sense?

'Be yourself' is only easy if you know what that is. When you change or grow and develop... it might be slightly harder to 'be yourself' when you're not the way you were yesterday. It doesnt mean that it's impossible though. It just means you need to practice...

Practice being yourself and being true to yourself cos... as we all know too well... practice makes perfect.

Listen up... Mark Owen, Tiger Woods and John Terry

2010-03-11T14:44:00.006Z

What's with the new celebrity trend of admitting you've been cheating on your partner and coming out with it to the world?

As male celebrities you have SERIOUS choices when it comes to hot women making a play for you when your other half isn't looking... i get it. As my friend Matt put it "I'm surprised it doesnt happen more often. The sheer volume of women throwing themselves at male celebrities would mean that sometimes the man would succumb to temptation even if they were the most faithful of men. They're just humans". Spoken by a true man.

I understand the point but it's still AWFUL. To a romantic soul like me its pretty crushing, but then i'm not out to get a celebrity boyfriend. It happens enough to the un-famous... so add the fame hungry nature of our current culture into the mix and you're in serious trouble. EURGH.

What's suprising me most though, are the women. A little self respect wouldnt go amiss. Throwing yourself at a married celeb isn't really something to shout about.

I'm not going to proclaim to be any kind of saint, but how sad do you have to be to try and bag a celeb with a wife and kids at home.

Bad times.

half the world away...

2010-03-11T14:29:00.006Z

A few things have been troubling my mind of late.

1) My doppelganger is leaving (again). *sigh*

2) My pal Cal is also leaving. in June. *sigh* (although it may be argued that cal has been leaving for over two years, his date setting has troubled me with it again)

3) Petrol stations. Aside from the ludicrously HIGH price of petrol these days, does everyone try to get the petrol to stop at an exact amount?? I do it every single time. Surely petrol stations should capitalise on this obscene practice, maybe by making a competition out of it. The person who gets it exactly on £20.00 the fastest wins. it could have a leaderboard and flashing lights and music when you beat the highest score. Everyone on the forecourt shall know of your brilliance! Oh yes.

4) Dave is also leaving. Are you seeing a pattern here? Is it me? Is it something i said? They're dispersing with alarming frequency, my friends.

Maybe i too should leave? I have a fabulous life. Friends, gigs, good times... the lot. I also have a job which i love... but, this constant barrage of leaving-ness is making me wonder if i should jump ship too and see where the wind takes me. Living life on the edge is for winners i say.

I shall cogitate and contemplate. I may masticate whilst i deliberate. Then i will update.

:-)

xxx

you gotta go there to come back.

2009-10-19T17:20:00.002+01:00

Something dawned on me today...a horrifying truth that i can’t talk my way out of for once.

It all started because I watched a sloppy film... as an eternal singleton it’s the only time I really get to see anything romantic. So I’m on my own in my lovely flat... curled up on the sofa... and at the end of the film as the credits roll, I’m sobbing. Not even in a happy ‘oh that was so lovely’ way. More in a ‘lump in the throat, snotty nose, tears running down my cheeks’ way. Call me crazy, but I don’t believe that was the intention of the film makers.

Maybe it’s hormonal or lack-of-sleep related, but I started thinking about boys and desires and past relationships and all that gubbins. When a realisation took up residence in my brain and started making a home for itself... I have never ever truly given my heart to anyone. There have been plenty of love interests and frissons, there have been flings and even relationships, but there has never truly been anyone that I have utterly and completely loved and trusted with my heart, and had it reciprocated.

This is probably partly due to my terrible awful and utterly senseless boy choices. I pick boys who are emotionally unavailable (or in times gone by are actually physically unavailable with real life girlfriends and everything) or boys who I like a lot and who make me feel special, but who don’t make my heart skip a beat which inevitably never lasts very long. It’s also probably due to the fact that I spend so much time and energy and emotion on the FIRST type of boy – the one I can never really HAVE. In that moment of clarity, I felt so sad and worried that I had been subconsciously sabotaging myself all these years, that I began sobbing uncontrollably. Heartfelt sobs that would make you cry to hear them.

I have always been quite grounded and sorted when it comes to GIVING advice. People come to me for it all the time – and I love it. But at that exact moment when I wanted to turn to one of my friends for a friendly word, to tell me that I was wrong and was blowing things out of proportion, to make me feel better in the way that only real friends can, I just thought ‘no one can help you here but yourself’. Sadly, it’s true.

I’m not actually looking for love, not actively looking anyway. I’d like to fall in love, but haven’t got the will to try and seek it out. I’m a romantic at heart; a soppy emotional old fashioned being (despite my cool-as-ice projected self who feels nothing and is completely fine with everything all the time) that wants a man to be a man and to take the lead in pursuing me. Instead I have been fraternising with the kind of guys that love to be chased... and there are PLENTY of girls who seemingly relish that role. I haven’t compromised myself so much as to have to be one of those girls who hunt down men with promises of no strings sex. Empowered females are all fine and dandy, but where’s the challenge for men in pulling them? It just makes it so easy for them... and this generation of boys all seem to be having that in abundance. Lets be honest, most men are easy to manipulate if you offer them easy sex, but I’m just not challenged by that prospect.

Not that I’m saying I could have any guy I want, but if you offer them sex on a plate, they’re prone to taking it without asking too many questions. Some girls are fine with it though and I salute you for your brazen girl-power ways. It’s just not me.

My impulsive, impatient side though, (unsurprisingly) wants to hurry love, in the way Phil Collins would not be best pleased about – my impatience knows no bounds. So I do something infinitely worse. I make the game a little tougher for myself by putting myself in situations where it’s easy to be taken advantage of by whoever has my interest at the time. I don’t mean physically but, in terms of making it easy for them to step up to the plate (so to speak).

For example, in the past i have engineered situations, which I often found dull but which meant we'd be alone together; I’d listen to them drone on for hours about their football team, ex girlfriends or their computer games so that that they'd finally make a move. I never actually make a move, I wait for them to do it, and when they do, I accept. But even if the dalliance happened more than once, it could never live up to the fantasy because I willed it to happen. Then I get upset about it, vow never to do it again and then... repeat.

Not surprisingly, I’m incredibly unhappy when I finally realise I’ve invested a whole lot of hours and emotion in someone who actually didn’t want me enough to chase me of his own accord. (Shocker, I know.) The cold, hard reality is, they’re just not that fussed, I’m a second rate alternative to a girl he really wants. Fact.

Am I any different to the girls who put it out there? No.

I guess I can hide behind the fact that I didn’t make the first move; therefore they must want me... ha! Ridiculous.

The upshot of all this jibber jabber is that tough decisions had to be made. I am now aware of the issues I face. I need to stop opening my heart to completely useless boys and stop confusing being flattered by attention from nice boys I don’t fancy, with wanting to go out with them.

Simples.

My emotional breakdown at (it has to be said) a fairly average romantic slush-fest was not warranted, but perhaps it’s just my minds way of releasing the negative things I’ve done in the past and letting them go. Maybe it will help me to clear the decks and figure out what I really want.

Even though it hurts to try and figure this stuff out, I guess the delectable Kelly Jones got it right when he said ‘you gotta go there to come back’. Perhaps I’m on my way back now. Bonus.

PEACE OUT.

xxxxxxxxxxx

mirror time...

2009-07-20T15:17:00.004+01:00

Have you ever looked at yourself in the mirror? I mean, really looked at yourself. Not, while you’re doing your hair or brushing your teeth... but have you ever taken the time to just look into your own eyes and see yourself? Checking our reflection is something we do every day... but how many times did you actually look at yourself? How often do you truly see yourself from the outside in?

I always think it’s really funny that I can’t see my own face as I go about my own day. I can see everyone’s but my own... and everyone can see mine, but not theirs. In a culture where we place so much emphasis on how we look, and so much of our communication is non verbal, it strikes me as funny that I don’t know at any given time, how my face looks. How other people see me, what my eyes say when I’m talking to my friends, or what my facial expressions are like when I’m angry, or sad, or confused.

You could, at this point, refer me to the Mr Men books and explain what an angry face looks like... but it’s not the emotion I don’t recognise, it’s my own interpretation that I’m unable to spot. Some people can look at me and know there’s something wrong, even if no-one else sees it. It’s weird that I am unable to interpret my OWN face, with the same cues I use to understand the faces of others.

You could say that I should know what’s going on in my own head. I should always know how i’m TRULY feeling, but the truth too is an elusive concept. It’s so elastic that it’s completely immeasurable.

How honest are you with other people? Would you tell your friend if they looked fat in those trousers? Would you be honest that they have a problem with body odour? Would you tell her if you saw her man kissing another woman? I struggle with that kind of honesty.

It depends on the situation, right? You have to judge and weigh up how honest you should be, in proportion with how much good you’re actually doing with the truth. Tact is a quality that I believe you have to learn in order to cause the least amount of damage to those around you. The truth is a weapon. It can build things up and make wonderful things happen, but it can also cause pain and destruction. So, how much truth should you use in order to negotiate situations that happen in life? If you protect those around you from the sometimes brutal realities of existence in the world today, are you doing them a favour? Are you then, doing yourself a disservice?

In my experience, I have always protected those around me. For whatever subconscious reason, I want to protect them in ways that are completely ridiculous. You tell a white lie here and there to spare someone’s feelings and if you continue with the small lies and covering up, slowly it becomes habit.

In my case, I began covering up my emotions to spare those of other people, bottling up my reactions, thoughts and feelings so as not to ‘rock the boat’. Eventually I started to believe I was good at it. Repression of my innermost thoughts, desires, dreams and feelings had become second nature. I freely divulged positive thoughts and feelings, but continued suppressing all the negative ones until I got to this point.

Part of me would like to be completely open and truthful with my friends and family, but the bigger part of me tells me not to hurt them. It’s a vicious cycle. One I don’t know how to break. It can run on a small scale, over a cross word with a friend, or on a massive scale with a boy who breaks my heart. I feel an overwhelming compulsion with whoever has upset me, to makes things right again. If it lasts for any length of time, it cripples me, so I make it right with them no matter what the cost. The fear of negative reactions so consumes my being that I don’t lash out at those who upset me, I keep it all inside. Festering.

I’ve heard all the right things to say in this situation – be true to yourself, it’s in your hands, only you can take control of what you do – I’m an old hand at dishing out sensible logical advice to those who need it. It’s just that my judgement is ridiculously skewed with my own problems. If someone told me to simply let out my feelings, I’d probably nod at them, rather than screaming in their face (which internally I would want to do) and agree that they’re right. Which they are. It’s just that faced with a situation where honesty is called for and feelings are on the line, I become unable to follow through with it and just be honest.

I can be honest where no negative emotion is involved, but put me in a situation where real feelings are on the line, or I’m going to cause an argument or upset someone if I’m honest about my feelings, and I’ll lie right to your face, and bottle up my emotions.

It affects me even when I think I’m OK. If there has been a disagreement, even after I’ve made it right with the other person, two days later or even a week later, I have moments of complete desolation and melancholy. Then if I suppress it enough, I start to feel OK again. I start to forget the negative thoughts and feelings. In time, they ebb away and the world seems to right itself again. Until the next hurdle.

As I get older I’m starting to wonder whether or not my destructive romantic behaviour...

(Always towards myself, usually in the form of a boy who knowingly or unknowingly hurts me by being emotionally unavailable)

...is a way of prodding my subconscious to let my innermost feelings out. I’m a highly emotional person, not that many people who know me would tell you that. Am I emotionally self harming to let the feelings out a bit? If I am, then there must be a way to stop it, to let them out whilst leading a full and happy life, with my friends and family around me. I just don’t know how to manage it.

You fool yourself into thinking that you’re OK, that you’re happy and that you’re leading the best life you can. You can lie to yourself till you’re blue in the face. Contrary to popular belief, you’ll believe your own lies faster than anyone... but then one day, you’ll catch sight of yourself in the mirror, and realise you can’t look yourself in the eye. Not without wincing a little.

quote of the day....

2009-07-03T16:44:00.000+01:00

The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars

- Jack Kerouac

Paintings...

2009-05-14T12:02:00.012+01:00

I am currently exploring painting as a form of expression... and a form of keeping me in the house doing something when i have no money!!

here are my efforts so far.

This one is for my cousin Alastair of his two boys... 1st proper commission.

This one was done in an hour at Matt's house for ART day... its just a mess about really, but it came out pretty well!

This is the one i did for Claire and Paul's wedding present...
This is the only one i have in my house - Caleb from KOL. I love it.

My dad's Christmas present. It's them on their wedding day.

My mum and tony's christmas present. On their Honeymoon in Cuba. COOOOOBA.

:-)

xxxxxxxx

space hoppers

2009-05-14T11:08:00.012+01:00

Man, I know i have let this blog slide a wee bit in the last couple of months... but truly, i am now back. Like Gloria Gaynor, from outer space. I just logged in to find you here without any new words in my blogspace. *sings* I should have written to you more, i should made you cool and witty, if i had known for just one second you'd be useless without me... blah blah blah blah...

SO ANYWAY i have several million things to rant about. Not least the fact that i havent blogged. I blame the cosmos.

rant 1. That my doppelganger doesnt live closer to me, and all things pertaining to a happy doppelganger relationship. She's too far away. I dislike it intensely. I am realising more and more as i type that i am angry at things i have no control over. Whatever that says about me, i'm not ready to confront. I just want RESULTS, Universe. FIX IT FOR ME LIKE JIM or THERE WILL BE CONSEQUENCES.

rant 2. working out. Why does it have to be such a bloody difficult and time consuming slog to make yourself fit and aesthetically pleasing. I concur that i am pleasing on the INSIDE. But how many people want to see my insides? dont answer that.

rant 3. writing a book. I am considering taking on said writing project... but dont know where you begin. Do you start at the start or start from the end. GAD, why is it not SIMPLE. Anyone who retorts that anything worthwhile is never simple will not be allowed to pass go or collect 200 smackers, and will be beheaded at dawn.

rant 4. secrets... almost always come out eventually. Except mine, which i will take with me to the grave. I have made many mistakes, but i wont relinquish the information without first killing myself, therefore rendering the secrets null and void. HOWEVER... i found out something 'interesting' about two of my mates recently and everytime i think about it, i get a bit a of sick in my mouth. I'm not gonna spread the gossip though, its bad enough that I know!!!

rant 5. Ex boyfriends. Why oh why can we never just be friends? i dont get it.

I have no more anger within me... so i will relent from my outburst.

OOOH! My step dad and i embarked on a 80's throwback activity last night - a space hopping spree. The big inflatable orange space hoppers of yore!! You may well question why my step dad had a brand new space hopper, but you'd probably be best not to ask. Our dogs couldnt handle the bouncing activity and took to engaging in all out WAR with the helpless hopper in a bid to win our affections back.

You could say that our labradors are spoiled brats. You'd be right. Tia actually chest bumped Tony off the hopper mid bounce and threw him into my mums wardrobe. Bailey was actively trying to get ON the hopper with me, however the bouncy orange hopster is not a vehicle made for two. OR indeed, a vehicle at all. PLUS Dogs DONT have opposable thumbs, and arent generally reknowned for their skill at space hopping.

I reckon they were insanely jealous of our jumping shenanigans and our opposable thumbs. You think dogs are loyal? Think again my friend. These animals just want to space hop all over the shop and have no regard for their masters welfare in their bloody mindedness. They were going all La Rioux on us and going in for the kill...

Either way, it made for exceptionally comical viewing.

I might even go a stage further and say - space hoppers have been SEVERELY underestimated as a viable mode of transport. Settle down and just imagine for a second how much better the world would be if we space hopped to work...

we'd be fitter
they're better for the environment
and generally happier (have you ever engaged in space hopping activity without a big smile on your face?? Could you envisage a time where you space hopped whilst angry? COURSE NOT!)

There are no downsides to space hopping. Sure, time might be a bit tighter, but would you get up a little bit earlier anyway if you knew you could play with your space hopper before work?

(as long as you're not using 'space hopper' as a pseudonym for your genitals... or even if you are... )

That will be all.

<3 Foof

Twittering on....

2009-03-11T17:10:00.002Z

Can i just say...

Twitter. What a fabulous invention.

YET another way for me to frivolously expend time and energy...

It makes no odds how i try to resist, i love a social networking opportunity. I've even managed to incorporate it into my work load and persuaded the work that it's time to 'get online'. KER-CHING!

bring it on.

ALSO my sister just got a job at London Zoo.

I believe if that was me, i wouldnt be asking what time lunch was.... i'd be asking what perks of the job there are... does she get to feed the penguins? Can she play bingo with the monkeys? Does she have a sewing class with the kangaroos?

It's important stuff.

WELL DONE GILL!!!!

xxxxx

No timewasters please...

2009-02-03T12:01:00.005Z

SO...

Im just sitting there at my computer when a realisation hits me. I'm frittering my life away on frivolous social networking sites when i'm actually SUPPOSED to be doing work. The realisation of this hit me like a violent husband.

See, at the moment, there is some CRAAAZZZYYY work shit going down. I wish i knew a more succinct way of putting it, but at present... it's all i can muster.

(NB Mustering is a pastime often neglected. People should muster more often.)

The upshot of the crazy shit is... (is there a band name in there somewhere? upshot of shit?) I need to really push myself harder at work. No more cruising along reading Ashton Kutchers twitter updates, no. I will use tweetdeck to keep an eye on the twitterverse as i go about my day in an organised and intelligent fashion without being sucked into every witty update.

My work deserves more of my attention than facebook. Hell, it pays better - maybe not in witty banter from my friends across the globe or in photographic comedy happenings... but in cold hard cash... work wins.

SO (this blog aside) I am therfore turning my back on social web activity... and getting my serious head on.

Oh yes.

Once i have established my next move up the corporate ladder, i'll slack off again and play with whatever social site takes my fancy until someone notices.

Down with facebook and Bebo. Down with twitter and it's hilarious proximity to ACTUAL celebrity banter. Down with downloading music and photoshopping pictures of my friends.

It's back to work time people.

AND... Yes i do realise that even this blog has eaten away at my work day - oh the humanity.

It's pleasantly ironic though. Peace.

<3 Foof

Christmas.

2008-12-12T11:29:00.010Z

Why is there not a cool way of saying 'Merry Christmas!'... i mean throughout school people sent cards with particularly witty Christmas messages like... 'Have a cool yule!' (What is the significance of the Yule anyway? It's not really a feature in contemporary Christmas celebrations but we still mention it), 'Seasons greetings' (which is another LAME Christmas-card-ism), 'Happy Holidays' (which is particulaly nondescript - you can say that at ANY holiday. How lazy are the Americans?) 'Have a cracking crimbo' or 'Yuletide greetings' (again, mention of said YULE... por que?).

Frankly, they are atrocious, and only really cool when you are in Primary 7 and you have to (unwillingly in most cases) send out a Christmas card to everyone in your class. Although on reading my first paragraph again i'm not sure how many 11 year olds would think to write 'Yuletide greetings' - it sounds like something Mr Spock might say.

Why don't we have a really cool way of saying 'Merry Christmas' that isnt 'Merry Christmas'!! I'm finding it slightly disturbing that we haven't evolved that greeting in any way since days of yore when you could actually describe festivities as 'Merry' without fear of your peers knocking six shades of shit out of you for being too jovial.

I do however, lament those days. The way people spoke back then was FAAAAAAR superior to how we converse these days. The only person who still talks like that is Rita off Coronation Street. I don't ACTUALLY watch it, but on one of the occasions where i was present while it was on (it happens about once a month), Rita made me come over all misty-eyed when she started saying something was 'afoot' and 'mark my words, no good will come of it.' How cool is that!!! It's much more expressive and infinitely more interesting than todays (Scottish) equivalent which would be 'she's uptae su'hin. ken?'

No-one says 'Greetings!' when they speak to people any more. Or 'Salutations'. They just say 'Hi' or 'Hello' and personally i think the world is all the poorer for it.

I digress. The point is Christmas has become about Christmas cards and presents and it's bollocks. cos a LOT of times people don't even try!!! They just write:

To Fiona (note: not even comedy use of one of my many pseudonyms/nicknames - however tragic they may be, they at least show a bit of familiarity. I don't believe that it breeds contempt where Christmas is concerned)
Merry Christmas
Love (or evern worse FROM), XXX

what's THAT about? If you're sending a christmas card to someone, surely you want to show them a little bit more love than THAT! And if you dont... don't send the card! If you don't know someone well enough to write something more personal in the card, then why are you sending one??

because you think you have to??? FUCK IT!! you really don't.

You're just killing trees.

Personally i'm cutting back Christmas this year.. and it's not just because of the credit crunch. I'm sick of feeling like i SHOULD buy this or that or send a card to them... it's bollocks. Christmas is about being with people, not sending out as many christmas gifts or cards as you can. I would much rather see someone (where possible) than get a single card or present from them. AND if i do get a card... i'd like it to be personal to me!!! We're a little bit too mundane about stuff sometimes and it pisses me off.

I'm not Christmases biggest fan, due to personal circumstances, but I do like the personable-fluffy-loving-friends-and-family-together side of it. What i don't like though, is lame Christmas greetings.

So do yourself a favour, and think of something original. You never know... you might invent the new hip, cool and rad way of spreading Christmas love for next year if it catches on...

Have a festively plump Christmas!

<3 Foof

xxxxxxxxxxx

Dirty little secrets...

2008-11-21T13:05:00.010Z

Everyone has them. It's true.

There's not a single human on this planet who doesnt have a dirty little secret or maybe multiple grubby secrets. Even Julie Andrews.

Well... ESPECIALLY Julie Andrews. Which is kind of my point. People who portray themselves as whiter than white, have secrets which are more notably SHOCKING than anyone else's (and this is the clever bit) simply because they appear as if butter wouldnt melt. SO the entire premise of being GOOD all the time, simply flags you up as a complete arsehole when you do something... less than white.

SO. I'm admitting it now... not that i've ever been whiter than white... I have done bad things. Lots of them. Maybe more than most people would ever dream of doing. AND although i'm proclaiming it here, publicly on my blog, i'm not proud of any of them.

YES, i'm a nice person. (despite my aforementioned secrets)

but NO... it doesnt mean i make the right decisions all the time... and frankly i think it's about time i confessed.

...i've made some WHOPPING mistakes.

But, i'd like this to be a public note... that i'm trying to be a better person... and i'm trying to learn from my mistakes. It's tough though. Mostly the bad things i've done, i lean toward doing again. Especially where boys come into the equation.

However... i stand here now (uncomfortably at my computer... sitting is definitely the preferred option) and i am proclaiming loudly (silently by TYPING) that i am indeed a human person.

and i have some dirty little secrets.

But i am trying to fix the damage i've done either internally or externally with my actions. Slowly.

All the time realising that people who would judge me if they found out, are as they say in france.... Like ze pot calling ze kettle, black.

(as an aside, i never really understood that saying - What happens if your kettle is black and your pot is silver. Then the pot can surely call the kettle black.... without fear of retribution)

and that is where my head's at today.

<3 Foof

Across the Universe...

2008-11-17T15:25:00.005Z

PS...

Jim Sturgess??

(despite his name being JIM)

YES PLEASE.

Gutterpixie.

2008-11-17T14:40:00.006Z

There's little meaning in the name to this blog, except that someone called me it once, and i like it.

So, what has been happening in the world of foof is that i'm in a state of topsy turvy rollercoaster fun one minute, and wondering where my life is going the next. Which shouldn't bother me (considering no-one actually knows what is going to happen next) but the nature of my altogether shambolic present leaves me fearing the worst for my future...

Recently i feel like my world has been sped up, and shaken up by several events (which i shall not go into) but which have both catapulted me into utter confusion and delighted me in equal measure. The upshot is, i'm shattered, yet excitable, and fragile all at the same time.

It's a heady mix let me tell you.

It's also something i'm utterly unable to control. One minute i'm loving the randomness, and the next minute i'm cussing the day i was born (i like to cuss in a southern american drawling kind of way, it's so much better than simply just cursing). I think i would like it all to settle down and level out now though.

However, the events, well... i'm not sure they are up for a calming-down kind of motion... they have their own inertia and are unlikely to stop, unless i quit everything and go and live in a cave without my mobile... cos in a cave, you can't use your charger, and there would be no point.

I don't know. I have to find a way of putting less importance on what other people do/think/feel, and start feeling and thinking or doing what i want to do. Except that i worry if i do, then i'll be less of a good friend to the people i love.

It's not a compromise i want to make.

BUT, i recently got ridiculously upset about something that i had no control over, and i want to be able to deal with blips like that without feeling as though the world may end... cos it won't. I just worry too much about what everyone else does and thinks.

It's a realisation that doesnt sit too well with me, because i always figured i was pretty laid back, and independant. Turns out i'm just as much of a kook as everyone else... and it IS POSSIBLE to care too much.

I'm working on it though... I'll figure out all the topsy turvy stuff soon too.

A drink might help though. and a stint in the gutter, dressed as a pixie.

Anyone for booze?

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Dave Gorman is a legend

2008-10-14T12:33:00.005+01:00

I just copied this from Dave Gorman because it completely stumped me... The man has a fucking valid point...

Where does it (money) come from? It's all symbolic anyway. If there were a hundred people living on an island without any contact with the outside world and they all had a pound each... and one of them opened a bank and offered the others 1% interest per annum... then how would they pay that interest? If someone invested their whole pound, then at the end of the year they'd be owed a penny and that would mean the banker had only 99p of their own pound left... which would make banking an inherently unprofitable business. Which (despite the recent evidence) it can't be... or there wouldn't be bankers.

Someone has to have decided to just make more of it. Someone somewhere must be deciding to increase the amount of money in the world year on year. But who decides how much and where does it go to? Say you're one of the 100 people who all started with a pound each. And say you've decided that for your society's economy to function you need to have another £10 added in to the mix? So what do you do next? You mint another ten coins... and then where do you put them? Who do they belong to? Are they yours? The governments? How do they get into the system?

If governments are just creating more symbolic money each year, how do they decide how much to create? How do they balance that out with each other?

Countries borrow money from each other. For that to work there has to be some agreement between nations about where money comes from. You can't decide that a pound is worth two dollars if they're allowed to just make more dollars whenever they want.

Somebody somewhere has to be increasing the sum total of money in the world bit by bit... because there's more of it now than there was then... and there has to be some kind of international agreement between governments about how that works... or there would be no way of trading with each other.

So... on the off-chance that the World's Money Increaser (I think that must be his/her title) is reading this (and come on, I think there's every chance they google themselves) can I offer them this suggestion: make more.

You know that National Debt that people are always going on about? However much it is... that's how much I'd create on Day 2 if I was in charge. Just make enough money to pay it off.

I don't know why no one seems to have thought of it sooner.

Errr.... TOO RIGHT GORMO!!!

get it sorted mr money man... and i would like some more money while you're at it.

<3 Foof

Boys

2008-10-01T15:05:00.002+01:00

I despair of boys.

All boys. I give up on man/boykind.

They are a complete mystery, and one that it is looking more and more that i will never unravel.

I mean, what is with boys in Scotland? They refuse to take the lead in any blossoming partnership, at least that is my experience. Why are Scottish guys such wimps?? Mostly, girls LIKE boys to take the lead.

It is true however, that times have afforded women the apparent luxury of voting, sleeping around and paying for things with their own money... BUT that doesnt mean that a girl doesn't like a bit of romance. Scottish boys don't seem to have a clue about women.

OR

Maybe it's just me. I don't know.

Give me absolute unwavering honesty and upfront-ness from a guy any day of the week over false hope and politeness.

<3 Foof

xxxx

For Lauren...

2008-10-01T14:47:00.006+01:00

HAPPY BIRTHDAY WARDSO!!!

You're A-maz-ing and I love you very much.

Doppelgangers Unite!

xxxxxxxxxx

The friends...

2008-09-30T16:28:00.011+01:00

Sometimes in life, i recently discovered, the things that happen unexpectedly are the things that can bring you both the worst pain and the greatest joy.

I say this because, unexpectedly, last Sunday turned out to be one of those days i know i'll never forget, in a good way, although it didnt start out that way.

My friend of 13 years, Kirsty, called me up out of the blue with the sad news that her lovely dad passed away. It was awful. I stood dumbfounded in the vegetable aisle of tesco's after i got off the phone for ages, completely unable to make any sense of it.

When i got home i had to pass on the news to our friends... some of whom i havent seen or spoken to in months, it's a difficult job, but i wanted to help Kirsty out. When i started calling though, something really amazing happened. Everyone, no matter how long it had been, responded without hesitation and agreed to meet up in the pub in Polmont to see Kirsty and give her some love.

It was really heartwarming to see that, we may not see each other or talk often, but at the first sign of trouble, my friends will be there regardless, united in support.

It gave me hope, and a sudden realisation of what and who is important to me. From something terrible, something wonderful shone through, and i'm very lucky to have those people in my life. Bad times sometimes bring out the best in people, it's good to know.

So a big huge massive shout out from me goes to: Kirsty and her Mum, Jill, Steph, Elaine, Ana, Jacqui and McGeady for turning up on Sunday... Big Love to you all.

love,

Foof

xxxxxxx

Ibiza ROCKS.

2008-09-30T13:28:00.005+01:00

I have returned from the white isle in one piece... yet i am severely distracted by the post holiday blues. Why is it that we are unable to go on holiday without a severe bout of post-holiday depression after it??? What's wrong with us!! Assuming you don't catch anything else on your travels (depending on how discerning you are) maybe it's not something we should worry about.

BUT... i am discerning, so i don't have to worry about the latter. (no matter if there are some incriminating disco-winching pictures or not, i'm still discerning.)

I do however, worry about how low i can go following my 7 days in the sun. I could wax lyrical about Ibiza and the people i met there, the nights out and the general banter and atmosphere... but i won't bore you with it. Sufficed to say, It was bloomin' marvellous.

The aftermath is the true test of a holiday. If you don't feel, as i do now, that you would jack in your job, your flat and your mates to hotfoot it back from whence you came... you probably weren't trying hard enough.

Say what you like about it, but no matter how cliched it gets, Ibiza is still the coolest place on the planet... bar none.

At least, that's how i feel now. Maybe i need to get some perspective, but for now....

IBIZA 1 SCOTLAND 0.

I think i might have to go and book up for next year... Ibiza anyone?

<3 Foof

xxxxx

sprachen sie francais?

2008-08-19T13:12:00.018+01:00

Bonjour mon amie...

ahh mon croissant. Mange tout et parlevous francais, sacre bleu. Pan au chocolat mon cherie petit chou, chien. Stripey top. J'adore mon ange, zut alors c'est tres bien.

Moet Chandon, haw hee haw hee haw, au claire de la lune voulez vous couche avec moi ce'soir, et la tower eiffel. J'taime, menage a trois, ca va. Je ne sais pas pour que, et Chardonnay le beouf.

I love pretending i can speak french. If you CAN however speak french, and you're trying to make sense of the above, then please cease and desist. It makes sense only to me as a random list of the words i have amassed in my minds 'french dictionary a la foof'.

I even know some of their meanings... but mostly, i just like how it sounds. It makes me laugh till my sides ache when my friend Catherine and I talk in broken bastardised french, and lord knows why i find it so funny. I just do, true story.

It also amuses me to find random phrases in foreign languages that i could never ever use in conversation. My friend Helena (or Helenka as i affectionately call her... my name is Fionka by the way) who is Slovakian, taught me how to say several winning phrases in Slovakian, in return for some small help with her English (which was bloody perfect by the way).

The best ones are as follows (Helenka if you read this, i apologise for the spelling!):

Mas extremne velke hlavu - You have an extremely large head.

Tvoja mama szmirdi ako ponozsky - Your mother smells of socks

Zmirzlina - Ice cream (i realise this isnt a phrase so much as a really cool sounding word)

My former egypt-dwelling friends Jenn and Jo taught me to say this in arabic:

Ana bashoof nas miyeti - I see dead people

My high school education taught me German, which i love. But the most memorable phrase i learned, was in 2nd year at Graeme High School in Falkirk (In Frau Robson's class, the best German teacher i ever had):

Ich bin ein kleines gelb osterglocker aber ich mochte ein baum sein: I am a little yellow daffodil, but i want to be a tree.

Seriously, i love it. It makes me laugh till I stop.

What else... Ahh please note the lovely pic of Claire and I from Beth's leaving do at the weekend. I think it's splendid.

The other hilarious foreign language frolics i have indulged in recently was with Senor Harper. We'd write emails to one another, then use an online english-french translator to make it sound as if we were bi-lingual. The key point though, is then to place the french translation BACK into the translator and see what english comes out.

It is ABSOLUTELY fantastic.

For example: Shake your ass is... tremble your donkey. Oh yes it is.

DO IT. If you don't do anything else today, please, just do this. It will amuse you, i promise.

Where was i going with all that??

umm... who knows where thoughts come from, they just appear - Name the film and i'll give you 20 bucks (not you Gillian, we did this one to death)

...and by bucks i mean male deer.

Love!

<3 Foof

kiss and tell...

2008-07-30T16:59:00.016+01:00

Much time has passed since i last laid some blog smackdown... but the time has come to rectify that.

Many things have occured. There was T in the Park... a joyous occasion of frolicking in a field in the (unexpected but welcome) sunshine... catching a few bands, catching up with mates, camping like FUCK and getting absolutely wrecked. Brilliant. Also, i got a yellow hat which i love immensely, and sometimes i even sleep with it on. In the picture i am the only sober person. True story...

What else... Well... In my life it rings true that there is a lot of drama. Most of it not mine. This month was a lot like that.

One of my sisters, in this case Bryony, ended up in hospital because of asthma and a respiratory infection. My mum was away and in the end i stayed with her overnight in hospital. It was shit, but we managed to cruise though it together. Mostly with me laughing at her breathing apparatus, especially when she sneezed into her oxygen mask. Priceless.

The overall effect that it had on me, was to make me worry about smoking. I was smoking 5-10 a day for a couple of years, with a couple of years experimentation before that. After the unexpected overnight hospital holiday with Bryony, i thought i should stop. SO i've been free from the fags since Sunday night... and it ain't easy. But it's a step in the right direction.... we'll see how difficult it becomes this weekend!!!

love triangles/squares/dodecahedrons.... I'm not in any form of love shape at the moment (i'm free form baby)... however, some of my friends are. Somehow, through it all, despite not having any form of love-action, i get it in the neck. From a few people actually.

Unfair? You don't know the meaning of the word.

In my opinion, a promise to a friend is paramount. The nature of whatever they have divulged may put you in an awkward situation, but all you can do is advise them on how to address whatever it is ON THEIR OWN. It's their secret or problem, regardless of how sensitive the information is (excluding matters of public security of course - how often am I going to be privvy to that though? seriously...)

That's how i roll, and i'm not going to apologise. If that seems wrong to you, try and think about it like this: If it was your secret... would you want me to tell?

So, as a friend, i'd try to help them out of their jam, without alerting the authorities/ex-girlfriends/everyone who wants to know. If it makes a difference i'll also give them the benefit of my honest opinion as a payback for me keeping out of it. Does that make me a bad person? Apparently.

And it gets my fucking goat.

More than that though... i get pissed off at myself. I have many strong feelings on the way people treat me. I almost never let these feelings out into the open in case i ruffle any feathers, and upset people. However, it's becoming more and more apparent that even when i don't ruffle feathers with an outburst now and again, people dont afford me the same treatment. I have people going in huffs and being bitchy to me left right and centre, leading to me kind of grovelling to them in order to smooth things over. When did i become so worried about what other people think??!!?? I just worry too much about the repercussions of me biting back. Except, as a few of my friends have recently pointed out, people dont always give me the same courtesy. If i start lashing out at people in the same way they do to me, i'll lose friends. The thing is, i'm starting to question whether or not that would be a good thing. Terrible.

Why cant everyone just get along? People think i'm just super nice... it's bollocks. If i'm super nice, it means that i ain't comfortable enough to show my true feelings. Which leads me to another point. Maybe i'm not comfortable enough with any of these people to be the real me. Cos what it leads to is me having rants to other people, which i hate because it breeds bitchiness. Yes, it provides me with a release and ultimately gives me perspective, but as my friend Bolder said last night, he'd rather go straight to the person he's having issues with and tell them to their face that they are being a dick. I'm not used to that kind of confrontation, but it is the best way of dealing with things. I just need to start doing it.

What else... just general mayhem and melodrama. I personally love a bit of melodrama now and again, just not when i'm stopping smoking. The risk of uncharacteristically OTT verbal backlash from me is currently infinitely higher than ever before..

I wish my life was less like Sunset Beach. Or at least, if it has to be this dramatic, could there be a greater number of attractive males frequenting the scene to even out the bad times with good ones??? Otherwise it becomes more like River City... Grey, OTT, sometimes completely incomprehensive and overtly Angst-ridden. Frankly, noone wants to live there, least of all me.

<3 Foof

xxxxxxxxx

Rose tinted glasses

2008-07-08T16:31:00.012+01:00

Let me first say... that these glasses you see before you, are not simply 'orange' as you first might think.

Yes, they have an orangey hue... but look closer dear friends, and you will see that they are in fact... the fabled rose-tinted glasses of yore.

Who would ever have thought that the world famous rose-tinted glasses would turn up at my house, or for that matter, that they would be so MONUMENTALLY HUGE! But there you have it.

They look normal (if you're a giant) but when placed in the traditional manner on one's face ( i say face because if placed on any other body part, they lose their ability to make anything rose-tinted, save for the body part in question)... the world becomes brighter, lighter and just generally more fantastic than before.

If you look closely at my face in the picture... you can literally see the joy emanating from within me as i wear the wonderous spectacles.

If you would like to own a pair of splendid rose-tinted glasses, they are (i am assured by Claire and Paul) available for general purchase in LasVegas, Nevada.

BARGAIN.

<3 Foof

Romantic-film-abusers-anonymous

2008-06-30T09:53:00.012+01:00

I am a complex soul.

I don't doubt that everyone else is too mind you... hell, i couldnt possibly take credit for being complex over and above the complexity of the rest of mankind. It's just that today, i feel particularly complicated.

I can be strong, independent, weak, impulsive, emotional, heartless, flippant and loving all in the same minute... and sometimes i'm overwhelmed by my own feelings. Last night was one of those times.

Anyone who knows me will say that I really shouldnt watch emotive films... they trigger an unbidden discontent within me that shocks me with its force, and it's not like i didn't even like the film. No, I LOVED it. But sure as fate, as the credits came up... i started questioning things. Things that, goddammit, i dont want to question.

My life and how i live it is generally a source of joy to me... but when i get in that frame of mind, it's like BAM/SMACK/BOSH WHAT ARE YOU DOIIINNNG WITH YOURSELF?!? WHERE ARE WE GOING?!? WHY ARE WE HERE?!? GAAAAAAAAAA!!!!

Poppycock. (i dont think i have ever used that word before, yet it feels oh-so-right)

Despair goes through me like a runaway train... and fills me with anguish. Then, it leaks out of my eyes long after i finish watching the film, liquid anguish. I could bottle and sell the stuff, but the only people who may buy such a thing are washed up musicians who get too successful and forget that it was angst and despair that made their songs so popular. So to recapture their initial angsty popularity and reconnect with their audience, they could use a bottle or two of liquid anguish. (Noel Gallagher)

OR...Maybe film makers could use it to make more films that upset my inner balance. bastards - Make more films that make me cry.

A good cry should never be underestimated, that much is true. But films like 'PS i love you' evoke an innate and unbending fear of being alone in me, that i can hardly breathe. Day to day, i never worry about it. I love my life and my independence... but something stirs within me when i see a well-crafted lovestory... and rears its ugly head. Rendering me useless for about 24 hours afterwards. True story.

After the initial gushing subsides, i feel both joyful and hopeless all in one swift motion. Like a punch to the jaw - figuratively speaking of course. In literal terms, that's nothing like a punch to the jaw.

It's scary how affected i am by something i KNOW is made for pure entertainment. More than that, it always takes me by surprise. Each time i think 'It won't happen this time. I'm made of STEEEEEEL'... Inevitably, I'm wrong.

I'm not talking about just ANY romantic slush though, i have standards. (DONT LAUGH. I really DO!) I'm not some tearful mess trudging through life getting soppy at every slight romantic notion. Yet a well written love story always has me in bits. It's DESPICABLE.

The tragedy is, i laugh at people who scare themselves silly with horror films... but isnt it just as ridiculous for me, a secretly romantic soul, to torture it with unnattainable wrecklessly romantic celluloid?

After a childhood of literally no morals or conscience, or feelings even (ask my sisters, they'll pretty much vouch for that!) ... for the first time in my life, tv and film have the power to make me blub. It scares me. PLUS i love that i'm independent (insert suitable woman-power R-E-S-P-E-C-T type song here) and not reliant on men to make me happy... so how where does it COME FROM! Just from watching a film? JESUS.

AND it makes me ANGRY too... these films have raised my expectations so high that the version of love i aspire to is absolutely, unequivocally unattainable. Believe me, i'd change that if i could. I think it's ridiculous that a girl like me, someone who isn't a COMPLETE halfwit (but who arguably may have halfwit aspects), would allow that to happen to themselves.

Am i the only one who does that? Is there some kind of romantic-film-abusers-anonymous that i can join??

Even in real relationships that i am surrounded by... some inspire me... but mostly i look around and i worry that there are no stupidly romantic heart-on-your-sleeve ridiculous gestures any more. We seem to be too scared to assert the romantic gestures for fear of looking stupid or being laughed at by our peers, who in our generation have become the be all and end all of our existence. Love is on the couch watching TV, it's given away too easily and discarded just as quick. Do people love each other any more? Or, are we all so impatient that we'll settle for second-rate fast love in the arms of someone who is there, but isn't quite right for us? Our generation is spoiled. We want it all. Now. There's no waiting around for anything, not even love.

You've got to hope... and i do... that the romantic souls who created the stories that touch me, are out there somewhere writing about people they know who are keeping real love, not just movie love, alive.

<3

Cambodia Bruising

2008-06-20T09:08:00.017+01:00

Sorry. Sorry. Sorry.

I've had a hectic week.. and already i've started to push my blog to the back of my mind whilst other, more pressing matters, take hold. I'm ashamed. This blog was meant to be a regular feature in my life, and i feel that i've somehow let blogkind down.

My sincere apologies.

So, to fill you in... I was at my friend's wedding last weekend, and what a hoot it was. There was drinking, debauchery and dancing. All the best ingredients for a successful wedding i feel. Well, that and the bride and groom. And they were the quintessential bride and groom combo let me tell you.

Maybe i was overwhelmed by the sight of my first 'friend-based-wedding' but Claire and Paul (pictured cutting the cake) looked amazing, the ceremony was beautiful... and all in all, i just thought it was possibly the best wedding i've ever attended. True story. Claire's dress was magnificent. And i dont use that word often, or lightly. MAGNIFICENT.

Truth be told, all my friends who attended scrubbed up well... if i do say so myself, we too, looked almost magnificent. We clearly looked somewhere between fantastic and magnificent. Magnificent was covered solely by Claire.

I'm glad we cleared that up... SO, yes. It was a lovely day. And a good time was had by all.

Elsewhere this week i have mostly been injuring myself by falling in the shower. But before you desparage me, let me first defend this seemingly ridiculous event...

It was slippy. I slipped.

My ankle (being of the weak variety) gave way, leaving my no other choice but to smash my leg off the metal bar (ironically used to help people NOT fall in the bath) on my way to the bottom of the bath. I was thinking of calling one of those 'had an accident at work' lines, when i realise that it was not at work, or indeed something i could actually get compensation for. My leg is actually purple from hip to knee, the bruise is the size of cambodia.

It's not my best look, but i'm working it, baby.

ALSO after this event, not realising the full extent of my ankle sprain-age, i hot-footed it to Glasgow to take pictures of Day of Days who were playing in Nice 'n' Sleazys... and to see my good mates Carol and Sam. My pictures are on bebo, but the best one is pictured for the good of this blog. Nice!

It was a cool night, and despite having one leg bigger than the other due to swelling, i had fun! Thanks to Jill and Funsizeharris for accompanying me to Glasvegas... and beyond!

On a more serious note, am thinking of changing my name by deed poll to Sir Limpalot. Feedback on the back of a postcard...

Much love,

Foof <3

the best photo i've ever taken?

2008-06-12T12:39:00.000+01:00

i bloody well love this picture. I took it at on Fireworks night at Stirling Castle. Jackie, Jade and Beth kindly tried to write a word for me.. and failed. But at least they tried.

I think in this topsy turvy world, that's all that matters.

<3

the art of sha...

2008-06-12T11:30:00.002+01:00

Well now... i have been prompted to start this blog by someone telling me that the stuff i'd written was good.

I protested. But so did he.

SO i figure, that there must be something to having a little forum to rant out your thoughts and ideas... my own little corner of cyberspace in which i may be as completely ridiculous as i please. With absolutely no retribution. That pleases me.

I read Dave Gorman's blog today, on the lovely Lauren's request, which inspired this blog-tastic start to what will no doubt become a beautiful friendship... whatever happens between a girl and her blog, no man can put asunder. Or so i hope... but this is just the start of my magical bloggiferous journey and only time will tell.

I forgot how awesome Dave Gorman and his one-time writer/comedy/flatmate compadre Danny Wallace are at making me chuckle. Not laugh or giggle, but chuckle. From deep within me, happiness exudes when i read their stuff. It's funny cos it's true!

I have a couple of ideas for things which i still want to produce. One of which is an article called 'the art of sha!' which should really be a (slighly comical) look at Scottish music and Scottish bands who use a 'sha!' within their songs... i want to find out the history of it, how it works and all the ins and outs of sha (which sounds more like a sex self help book), and write all about my ridiculous findings. For what i dont know, but the outcome is less important than the process i think.

It started when my very good friend Romana (Gaily pictured at a Big Country gig from Dec 2007) introduced me to 'Big Country' on a drunken escapade (as we're prone to having). When i realised that those who knew the songs we were listening to were all doing this 'sha' thing, i wanted to know more about it. I drunkenly fired a huge number of questions about 'sha' at them (to a great deal of comedy derision and laughter) and in my glorious inebriation i vowed there and then to find out all there was to know about it.

As yet i have not fulfilled this promise.

BUT. I will.

(in the syle of Waynes World) Sha will be mine. Oh yes. Sha will be mine.

<3