Monday, 30 December 2013

Buda and Pest.

A friend  [Scott] and i went to

We stayed in an eccentric hostel- very much suited to our taste.

The city is beautiful. Although every Hungarian you meet will tell you "You should have seen how beautiful the city was before the war." i have no idea how you could fit in any more architecture to wonder at.

Perhaps driving round the island, that seemed too out of place and other worldly to be located in the very centre of the river in such a buzzing city, was my favourite part. The trees were so huge and dense (even if it was mid fall) you could barely tell you were approaching huge mounds of building until you were within feet of them.

It was funny to be such a tourist. Its rare i travel with such luxury.

The art is unlike anything i have every seen.

Yet religion and her wealth sits so close to hypocrisy it clouds my appreciation.

It was a city full of memories and memorials. Learning from its past.

Perhaps my favourite day was escaping the city, to the hills and a graveyard.

Remembering and reflecting. Glad to escape the 9-5, yet still a little dull inside. 

We met such lovely people. Who shamed me with there language skills.


I had fun. I love the city. I like the people. And they have amazing food.

Tuesday, 26 November 2013

Solitude Saving my Soul.

I've been home, and settled, for a few moths now. The first week of my return im not sure i left the house once. I certainly wasn't leaving my bed before midday. I just needed to re charge.

 Since ive been home ive barely had a whole day alone. I work Wednesday through Saturday and get three glorious days off to do with what i please. But because i have three consecutive days off ive felt i had to make them into mini holiday every weekend. So ive went away visiting people-every weekend. Its been great fun, and ive had a great time. However, i felt myself dipping. I was becoming rude, internally frustrated and just exhausted. So this weekend rolled around and i just said no and cleared my calendar (genuinely blackened the three days out with a black marker).

And its been marvelous! I slept, a lot. i finished a book.. Took myself skateboarding!? Done some art! A rather big deal since i havent been able to write or paint properly since ive been home. Cried at "Saving Mr Banks". Took some photos. And of course vegetated for about 6 hours watching the first six episodes of the second season of the period drama "The Paradise"- have you seen those dresses and hats?!!

I feel so damn good- refreshed and energized. I want to be nice to everyone again! 

Solitude has totally saved my soul this weekend. 

Tuesday, 19 November 2013


Usual tears are easy enough to hold back, and they are not often triggered by films or images very easily.

These are two images that struck a chord tonight. Without warning i was sobbing. Something about fathers and their children.

2002: A boy holds his dead father’s trousers as he squats beside the spot where his father is to be buried, surrounded by soldiers and villagers digging graves for victims of an earthquake in Armenia. (By Eric Grigorian)

 2003: An Iraqi man comforts his four-year-old son at a holding center for prisoners of war, in the base camp of the US Army 101st Airborne Division near An Najaf. The boy had become terrified when, according to orders, his father was hooded and handcuffed. A soldier later severed the plastic handcuffs so that the man could comfort his child. Hoods were placed over detainees’ heads because they were quicker to apply than blindfolds. The military said the bags were used to disorient prisoners and protect their identities. It is not known what happened to the man or the boy. (By Jean-Marc Bouju)

I mean i don't particularly enjoy how much my father likes to hold my hand, but im glad he does- and can. 

Friday, 25 October 2013

Comfort Eating.

I've been comfort eating. 

I've been comfort eating for years. Bad habit. Makes you feel better, then worse, then you stick two finger up to the world and feel better- for a little while. I eat cereal, sugary cereal. Cinnamon  grahams are my favorite. Its something from my childhood i guess- i would eat cereal for breakfast lunch and dinner (and second breakfast...elevenses too) if i had been allowed.

Irreverent. Anyhoo...

I'm comfort eating for, i think, three reasons. However, whenever i think about it i add and take away about a million other things that are happening daily- I'm not the most emotionally stable or luckiest person generally.

Reason 1- The Boring: Heart Ache.

     There are different components to this (several of the minor issues that pop up and disappear daily are contributed under this category- I am a sensitive person right!? gees! Sorry.) I got my heart broken. For the first time in a long time. Its getting harder instead of easier, mainly because i desperately try to detach myself emotionally when im falling in love, then point blank refuse to acknowledge that i ever was when my heart gets broken. So instead i get this long term, prolonged aching pain that grows for weeks. Until finally like two months later i sit down and hit that wall face on. Im hitting my face off that wall these past few days. Im told it gets better.
     Friendships are causing heart aches too. On two sides of the coin. Heads: I am leaving behind friends, necessary but hard. That's been the same story for  year now- change is not my forte. Again that'll get easier.
Tales: Since i seem to have hit this low ive been leaning heavily on friends- i have amazing friends, that let me do so. For that i cant be more grateful- but i dont like leaning on people. I dont like always having a problem to whine about. Recently i do. I am sorry for that. That heartache is just me beating myself up about moaning: identifying the trait i dislike; making myself accountable to it; and hopefully changing that about myself.

There are more, but they are too close to my heart for now.

Reason 2- The Bland: Moving Out.

I hate change. Its about time for this tho. My parents are moving out of our family home- the only home i ever remember living in. We moved in on Christmas day when i was like 3 years old. We roller-bladed around the house (i had the most awesome pink barbie 4 wheelers.) and i think there was an Elvis Christmas album playing (i could just be embellishing a childhood memory- but it makes a story. k!). This is my family home. A place of community, friends, and family. A refuge and retreat. Its the place i formed my routines and habits, a base. With an open door, open fridge policy. Since my parents are leaving its time for me to find my own home.
      I have all the means to do so. Also im making home relationships difficult. Im making my own decisions, forming my own opinions, finding my own beliefs, and being an emotional teenage female- and a lot of these are currently conflicting with my my parents. And ive become, not confrontational. Well a bit, but mostly i just shut down. Be plain rude. I just cant talk about things yet because i havent made my mind up on them and it makes me emotional for some reason. And so, although im sure perhaps my parents would disagree, for me i think to improve and help my relationship with them and myself, i have to get a bit further away with my own space. Even if i think ill regret leaving these comforts- perhaps.

Reason 3- The Basic: What am i living for?

So im looking at flats. Tonight i found some more to view. I then sat and done some sums:

Yearly wage
                -National insurance
                -Travel to work

Thats how i broke my financial life down by necessity. The fact i have a sole focus on financial year (no matter how sensible or whatever) hurts a little inside. Is this what i deem as important? Is this what im living for? This whole system is what comes naturally to me- what i desire. BUT it is exactly what ive tried to train myself to live without: routine, selfish habit and financial security. Where is the story in that?! Where is the life? Do i achieve my aim in life (to make the world a little happier) by paying bloody taxes?

I dont know how to change this, for now, tho. I dont know what i want to do with my life for the short or long term. I know i want the result to be a few more smiles on peoples faces every day (im not a big thinker). But i dont know how im going to do that, yet.

There are a lot of buts. And the real answers are probably just selfish. So i comfort eat. It makes me feel better. For now.

Monday, 30 September 2013


Memories. They get twisted and warped in our minds. Reflection is a dangerous business.

Reflections- by Charlotte H. Knox

Sunday, 29 September 2013

Autumn is coming...

... And i'm getting restless.

Autumn Travel- by Charlotte H. Knox 2009
It is to be expected, of course. If you've been 'free', or at least not committed to anything formally for almost a year, just a few weeks of the same place, same routine, same faces, same ness, is going to get boring. But thats not it. I'm not bored. I'm enjoying my job. Enjoying routine. Enjoying the faces i get to see. I'm enjoying the control i've gained. I wasn't in control when i was traveling- not really- i was at the mercy and kindness of strangers.

I have to settle. At least for a little while.

But the world is beautiful this time of year. The cold creeps in and you can wear large coats out. Leaves fall crisp on the ground and force you to walk with a spring in your step. The sunrise is more beautiful. And every city smells of anticipation.

I want to see Europe. Now. 

I need a new project.

Tuesday, 17 September 2013

A Drink with Jam and Bread.

I awoke yesterday morning to a delightful text, from a delightful lady. Only to find her and my mother in the kitchen, surrounded by the most delightful smell- home made jam cooking.

Yesterday was the start of this roller coaster going up. 

Tea, a drink with jam and bread, that makes the day better and could cure the world.

Sunday, 15 September 2013


I used to get annoyed at people who had favorites. Like favorite films, or bands, or songs ect. If someone could answer with one straight answer i wanted to tell them to go watch more films and listen to more music. Now, however, i understand a favorite doesn't come about because you haven't experienced enough. You have favorites because it means a lot to you (or at least that is why i have favorites).

So about two years ago my friend Isaac and i were in a car with his older brother and another friend, driving back from Alton Towers (one of my favorite weekends). Isaac brought up a youtube video of his friend, Anthony, who had written this song:

Now i wasn't that emotional as a person- not that you could tell from this bloody blog. Anyway, i put the headphones in and listened to the song. The last thing i was expecting was to be reduced to tears. But its a beautiful song. And, although the relationship with my father does not resemble the lyrics at all, it still meant a lot to me. It struck a chord pretty hard.

Now, two years later, i still listen to the song most weeks. And i'd say its one of my favorites

Confession: I still can't spell the word favorite. I didn't spell favorite correct once when i wrote this. I had to Google chrome spell check it every time...

Saturday, 14 September 2013

Soup of the Audible Sort.

Pre Note: I am trying not to offend my friends who work hard and do amazing jobs of creating these events. The events themselves are brilliant. My experiences are just tainted by my lack of ability to enjoy myself in environments created for fun.....

I don't like festivals.

Or at least i think i don't. Large groups of people don't do it for me, generally.

However, last year i attended Doune the Rabbit Hole and had a brilliant time. Chiefly due to people. Some drugs also (sorry parental units), but mostly just people. So this year i went to two festivals: Doune the Rabbit Hole and Audio Soup.

I worked at both (but only took my camera to one) mostly because i want to relieve my friends, at least a little bit, of the huge amounts of stress that comes with organizing and running a music festival. I also figure if i work through the day i can get my quiet time, miss all the waking up and daytime wandering (i'd struggle doing this in company, i am not human when i wake up.), and reduce the number of hours i am focused on enjoying myself and then jump in to the middle of the party where everyone is already having a good time, that i have not contributed to. So i can come and go as i please without taking away from their fun. I have fun just myself. I like just having little snip-its of group enjoyment and the rest of the time i like to wander alone in my own world.

I was in the box office all day at Doune. I had a lovely time there, in the box office. The residents were some of the most lovely people. They brought us wine, and chocolate profiteroles with cream, and cheese and crackers, and hot sausage rolls, and home made double baked chips, and tea on several occasions (which i cant thank then enough for). On the Saturday the lady from one of the cottages came down at the end of my shift, at 10pm, with a torch to take me back to her home and let me shower- a luxury i never underrate. After having, possibly one of the nicest shower of the year, i came out refreshed and warm to be greeted by a cup of tea and a bacon roll with not one, not two, but three bits of bacon on. It is this that made my weekend.

I also had a marvelous time at the festival, with friends. There was a tree in the middle of the site that had lights attached to the branches. I would be standing under this tree, when my friend would appear. He'd sweep me up in a waltz position and dance with me while reciting his poems. He would look into my eye and make me half fall in love, in under 30 seconds. Then he would finish his poem, kiss me on the hand, or the forehead, and evaporate into the darkness. Breaking my heart in the process. That was spectacular. Far too romantic for real life, but it was at a festival and it makes a good story.

The festivals were on consecutive weekends. So by the time i hit up audio soup i was tired. Damn tired. I was pretty sucky person because i was tired. Also because as a person i suck sometimes. I missed helping my best friend. I was not as helpful as i could have been ect ect ect. But the people are so lovely they didn't even mind. It ended up i worked the box office for the whole first day and then i got the rest of the weekend off (far too good a deal if you ask me).

After i had finished my shift i was ready for bed, far too many waking hours and like 12 of them working. I got ready to grit my teeth so i could face a night of excessive alcohol intake, music that would make my head ache worse and generally pretending i was having a great time, so as not to dampen everyone else's good time. This is what i was expecting. I forgot, or hadn't realized yet, the sort of people i had found myself surrounded by.

After i finished my shift, i ran from the box office, in the pitch black, to the festival sight trying to warm myself up. I found some friends and, all of a sudden, there was no obligation. No expectations. In fact there was sympathy and encouragement to go to bed. I had a hand taking all my crap round to a friends tent- i didn't have my own camp, and i got put up for the whole weekend by a marvelous family. I even got hugs goodnight- that made me cry, but only after i was in the tent and no-one could see.

 I am tired and sick so this is mushy. But these people are marvelous. They are genuine and kind. They sort of renewed my want for social interactions and friends. And i don't think they know that they make me happy.

Yet again i enjoyed a festival for large groups of, splendid, people.
And after a year of transitions, travels and brief encounters i've found some wonderful people to call friends.

This guy played at Doune. I enjoyed this: