tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-85363652175799408332024-02-18T21:05:25.872-08:00A little life adventure with tea.my thoughts with humble pie.Charley.http://www.blogger.com/profile/18078933597053874215noreply@blogger.comBlogger29125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8536365217579940833.post-74011189576165794522015-07-07T13:19:00.001-07:002015-07-07T13:19:20.830-07:00Not so done with love.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCjt7eQuP9StYqg89WV1Ad1u9wClrEIqQpIvLCyGC86uWvIkiPHXWFDApQ_8g1bgqLNSEU1xADbSvycIHBEnfU3_KbIxPenadxObe5nTD9BTMXT6-BImbO7ieJv2UbjddEk2iAFxI6lJS0/s1600/BeFunky_IMG_0873.jpg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCjt7eQuP9StYqg89WV1Ad1u9wClrEIqQpIvLCyGC86uWvIkiPHXWFDApQ_8g1bgqLNSEU1xADbSvycIHBEnfU3_KbIxPenadxObe5nTD9BTMXT6-BImbO7ieJv2UbjddEk2iAFxI6lJS0/s640/BeFunky_IMG_0873.jpg.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
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After a gloriously shit break-up, last year, i was done with love. I was hurt, sad, lonely, depressed ( i don't use that lightly), and stuck. I decided that since i was never going near boys again i should save up and run away. INDIA became a great idea. A culture shock. A change of pace, a challenge to take on alone. So i got myself together. Used planning India as a brilliant distraction, and also as a way to reassure myself i could do life on my own. Im not half bad at it.<br />Plans were made. 6 months to a year of travel. Keeping it cheap, and thus hard but worth it and doable.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsZj3Km7HYdJxcLmWx0wxAJZqkkEzS9BUAU1pwkW6uMzoUfJyVxrrZYv6M2K1cWz9zuVC0lCvTHIkvMz2S2QCPY38xYpsy0WDj2gXmk9vGw6ui0PTPg2rSnEwF5Oh_FOVjCCyjg8NE9UHr/s1600/BeFunky_IMG_0653.jpg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsZj3Km7HYdJxcLmWx0wxAJZqkkEzS9BUAU1pwkW6uMzoUfJyVxrrZYv6M2K1cWz9zuVC0lCvTHIkvMz2S2QCPY38xYpsy0WDj2gXmk9vGw6ui0PTPg2rSnEwF5Oh_FOVjCCyjg8NE9UHr/s640/BeFunky_IMG_0653.jpg.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
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Then at a friends encouragement i put myself on Tinder. It was laughable, i took the mick out of the profile thing and contented myself with the satisfaction of judging photos of folk. Some i even spoke to- but most got creepy or too full on and i just ignored them. Then i think it was a spell of madness, i spoke to a guy called "crouching" or something like that. We were chatting for s few days and he was cool enough so i gave him my number (still not knowing his real name). A week or so later the madness took me and i agreed to an utterly blind date, in the middle of no where, at the biggest wind farm in the UK, alone, with no phone signal, and didn't tell anyone what i was doing. Woops...<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4mJR2mKSU2JWDsfI-E1aaGJqoLjJEcsnwvfUa10-Kdn8Xy16caiAlRhl52QZgrr5rqkVf7kq4iZXfsu9sTCsBI-XcgCpJhBXr1hg1sC0Ao7u_n05AvhxSGlZjHu_VZ40AYhKdrgEDm7Dn/s1600/BeFunky_IMG_0673.jpg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="438" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4mJR2mKSU2JWDsfI-E1aaGJqoLjJEcsnwvfUa10-Kdn8Xy16caiAlRhl52QZgrr5rqkVf7kq4iZXfsu9sTCsBI-XcgCpJhBXr1hg1sC0Ao7u_n05AvhxSGlZjHu_VZ40AYhKdrgEDm7Dn/s640/BeFunky_IMG_0673.jpg.jpg" width="640" /></a><br /><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUwfXHzwCr5a75RTO6bu2jQZ_xKDy5tub0_2yMwqSUFKBZ-2zIShyphenhyphenrhVzQpvUiVjYk84YEeM51FHwoj3KCvkW1uGfcQisH_rWR88YgrsLmE0FKEoK_W4IBSatrti-1eL6qP4QIXt7WkbkN/s1600/BeFunky_IMG_0705.jpg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUwfXHzwCr5a75RTO6bu2jQZ_xKDy5tub0_2yMwqSUFKBZ-2zIShyphenhyphenrhVzQpvUiVjYk84YEeM51FHwoj3KCvkW1uGfcQisH_rWR88YgrsLmE0FKEoK_W4IBSatrti-1eL6qP4QIXt7WkbkN/s640/BeFunky_IMG_0705.jpg.jpg" width="408" /></a></div>
<br />We drank ice tea and watches a mediocre sunset, and talked bits and bobs. On the walk back to the car Kenny (as i now knew he was called) asked me; "On a scale of 1 to 10 how comfortable is this silence? 1 being <i>totally </i>comfortable." i said 2... and only because i wasnt sure how comfortable he found the silence. We laughed and totally agreed. That made me fall in love a little bit.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkBa0L9929898qvgxn8PCGnqMM7JeHzWj2kB0Ubs7ldU9lZtVAvOiDtVD6P9uEnhbfP4Gt8v_Vh0MR3o20dy_wDdA88FlvgT-mp4VwdVHHr8SPIvKt4vQk2j0oXMxzyWB6N414SiNfBFG5/s1600/BeFunky_nudll_2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkBa0L9929898qvgxn8PCGnqMM7JeHzWj2kB0Ubs7ldU9lZtVAvOiDtVD6P9uEnhbfP4Gt8v_Vh0MR3o20dy_wDdA88FlvgT-mp4VwdVHHr8SPIvKt4vQk2j0oXMxzyWB6N414SiNfBFG5/s640/BeFunky_nudll_2.jpg" width="640" /></a><br /><br />He then proceeded to get us utterly lost, in the middle of no where, late at night, with no phone signal, with a stranger and nobody knew where i was... I thought i was going to die at the hands of an axe murderer and everyone who had ever criticise my parents for raising us so freely was right.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">
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He did not murder me, and instead delivered me safely to my door. So after a lot of nervous laughter i agreed to a second date. AND THE REST IS HISTORY.</div>
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Our first holiday together November 2014, we drove all around Scotland. West to east. Visited old castles with sea shell paths, hippy cafes in the middle of no where, walked up hills in the rain, saw a stag, stayed at an adorable old ladies B&B and took our first self timer selfie from the car.</div>
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<br />Im pretty happy. Still going to India, but not running away to fix myself. Its a shorter trip and i cant wait to go and see some amazing places. But this guy will make coming home the sweetest part of my travels.<br /><br /></div>
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Charley.http://www.blogger.com/profile/18078933597053874215noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8536365217579940833.post-70905121681349855422015-02-24T15:09:00.002-08:002015-02-24T15:13:00.026-08:00Who Do You Think You Are?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="text-align: start;">I have had a day, or at least and evening, of watching empowering woman speakers on TED talks. It has been good, i feel all woman powered up. I also feel like i can do anything and want to do everything.</span></div>
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<span style="text-align: start;"><br /> And then this video appeared:</span></div>
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First off i LOVE this lady, she is totally awesome. What caught my attention (more than her awesome coat and accent) was that bloody question "Who do you think you are?". This question has been asked of me so many times since the 1st of January 2015. I see it everywhere. Videos, adverts, at a church meeting i ended up in accidentally, strangers asked me on public transport. EVERYWHERE. Yet, even though i have been asked and made to think about the question i have totally avoided answering it. Even to myself.<br />
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I remember listening to an audio book as a child and the same question was raised to the characters in the story, and you know how these stories always have a sort of question or moral to challenge you at the end, this one said "Ask yourself who you are and what makes you you." I did, i wrote lists, i edited said lists i thought over and over, and could never define myself with anything i was happy to tell people. So i stopped trying to answer the stupid question. To this day have never found anything that defines Who I Think I am.<br />
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This is very frustrating, and i figured it would be something i naturally grew into knowing. However, this question has been persisting. It is on my mind, without being answered. Now i am starting to feel the answer wont just become me, i have to find the answer- i have to go searching. Look through everyone else's answers and <i>decide Who I am.</i><br />
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This is the year i do that, or at least the year i start acknowledging the question, again, and decidedly coming up with and answer. I think i will be putting myself through experiences this year that will help me find out more about me and who i am.<br />
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I want to know because i want to know what i have to offer the world.<br />
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<br />Charley.http://www.blogger.com/profile/18078933597053874215noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8536365217579940833.post-46979443383053075282014-08-06T12:22:00.002-07:002014-08-06T12:22:57.599-07:00New things, good things.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="text-align: start;">Its been so long, i forget this is here. </span><br style="text-align: start;" /><br style="text-align: start;" /><span style="text-align: start;">Update nubero one: I GOT A KITTEN</span></div>
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His name is Scotch. Its been a hard lesson in responsibility, but his cuteness makes it bearable.</div>
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Update two: I got a new Flatmate. </div>
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She is wonderful. Her name is Sarah, and she has just became a fully qualified nurse! She has also become one of my dearest friends. I cant write much more before i start blubering- but she is a spectacular human being and i am truly grateful to have her in my life. </div>
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These two are the biggest changes in my life, from the past few months, and</div>
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It is great to have them with me.</div>
<br /><br /><br />Charley.http://www.blogger.com/profile/18078933597053874215noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8536365217579940833.post-18896026438413381832014-01-15T13:52:00.000-08:002014-01-15T13:52:13.421-08:00Night Roller.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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There was nothing special about this evening. Just some casual night rolling with a friend and cheep photos.</div>
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I love this city, and these streets.<br /><br /><br /><br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/95COmsGKdkk?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
Charley.http://www.blogger.com/profile/18078933597053874215noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8536365217579940833.post-60893562730466336862014-01-01T16:17:00.001-08:002014-01-01T16:17:06.426-08:00A Cup of Tea and A Window Seat. <br />
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In the first <i>6 months of 2013</i> i had visited 6 countries. I learnt so much about life. And be reminded of the freedom in nature and travels (as cheesy as that sounds). I had traveled with people (mostly Americans) who highlighted what friendship is.<br />
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<b> I commit to traveling to some new places this year- for the right reasons.</b><br />
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On the <i>9th of February</i> i received a parcel from a friend that was filled with thoughtfulness. <i>On the 22nd-24th of March</i> i met and fell in love with a whole bunch of wonderful people, who've become like family. On the<i> 22nd of June</i> i sat at a table, laden with food and wine and in the company of just a few of the most precious people i know. On<i> July 19th till 23rd </i>i sat in my best friends garden painting sticks. On the <i>20th of October</i> i drank tea and sat in a friends living room, talking and painting each others portraits.<br />
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<b>I look forward to investing in my friendships, and repairing the damage neglect has done.</b> </div>
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On the<i> 8th of May 2013</i> i lay on-board a 32ft sailing boat, underneath a blanket of stars and Sky. With the fire of whiskey in my chest. And on the <i>17th of September 2013</i> i sat at a kitchen table with tea, toast and homemade jam.<br />
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<b>I shall wonder and gaze at this world and its splendor and the simplest forms of beauty this year.</b></div>
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On the <i>21st of September 2013</i> I sat in a bus station, waiting on a very delayed bus. In my own tunnel and thoughts i watched a less able bodied, elderly gentleman struggle with his bags, and i didnt help. I didnt even notice what i was watching until another elderly gentleman (who had already given up his seat for a lady) gave him a hand with his bags.<br />
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<b>I hope to find the joy in being nice to people again. </b><br />
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On the <i>5th of December 2013</i> I sat at the window in my new room in the middle of a panic attack (one of many this year) as wind tore up the city and rain lashed on the glass pane. Again a beloved comforted me, and everything was okay- better for the bad experience actually.<br />
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<b>I will get rid of some anxiety this year. </b></div>
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<i> At 5.23 am on the 1st of January 2014</i> I was sat in a car holding back tears. I have forgotten and undervalued my most beloveds. I have undervalued you. I have criticized in fear and anger. I haven't apologized or thanked you enough times. I havent followed through the kind gestures i think of doing for you. Ive been pushing and running away this year- in a vain attempt to grow up. I have been quiet and distant. I have been unfair.<br />
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<b>I know these things. I am sorry i dont know how to talk properly just now. Im working on it, this year.</b></div>
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<b>I love yous.</b><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5-Gq4hpQ99aeGC6xDxxdqRQ74jN-eN3ydkAUgc04yD5uXBnj1rSrn3VxQTQUth5UKdtRe7O1xiEM_yKR757l3LFPppeLE7OJZN7Z0sKHltVRkO8i-UmKMdx7iX5msZaLdXYlZlE-hGIey/s1600/1546171_10202930806089667_933600673_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5-Gq4hpQ99aeGC6xDxxdqRQ74jN-eN3ydkAUgc04yD5uXBnj1rSrn3VxQTQUth5UKdtRe7O1xiEM_yKR757l3LFPppeLE7OJZN7Z0sKHltVRkO8i-UmKMdx7iX5msZaLdXYlZlE-hGIey/s400/1546171_10202930806089667_933600673_n.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
<br />Now here i am. With a cup of tea and a window seat. The future a little hazy but exciting. And with all the wonderful company of my beloveds i shall take a deep gulp of tea and breath steady. I am up for this years adventures- may they be plentiful.<br />
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Charley.http://www.blogger.com/profile/18078933597053874215noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8536365217579940833.post-39661378429885767752014-01-01T12:18:00.001-08:002014-01-01T12:19:44.719-08:00To A New Year.<span style="background-color: #fafbfb;"><br /></span>
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So, welcome 2014. I look forward to the adventures.</div>
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"We live in the right time, even if it doesn't feel like it."</div>
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Charley.http://www.blogger.com/profile/18078933597053874215noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8536365217579940833.post-7807512322877419372013-12-30T12:29:00.000-08:002013-12-30T12:29:49.427-08:00Buda and Pest.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
A friend [Scott] and i went to</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO6Z5xoCTiD5KxzdciDaCFXXRWtso7vCVUKqcW1VwNuvtNWztrir22XL9id1-MSBsLEimLa8f_8tDiUI6WZYkIuEYhkaHIvoqtYXTj3X0ZPorgNOGDBOliTtBh5U8D9XAwk2OxIITbOEbm/s1600/BeFunky_IMG_4846.jpg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO6Z5xoCTiD5KxzdciDaCFXXRWtso7vCVUKqcW1VwNuvtNWztrir22XL9id1-MSBsLEimLa8f_8tDiUI6WZYkIuEYhkaHIvoqtYXTj3X0ZPorgNOGDBOliTtBh5U8D9XAwk2OxIITbOEbm/s640/BeFunky_IMG_4846.jpg.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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We stayed in an eccentric hostel- very much suited to our taste.</div>
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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.</div>
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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.</div>
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It was funny to be such a tourist. Its rare i travel with such luxury.<br />
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The art is unlike anything i have every seen.</div>
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Yet religion and her wealth sits so close to hypocrisy it clouds my appreciation.<br />
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It was a city full of memories and memorials. Learning from its past.</div>
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Perhaps my favourite day was escaping the city, to the hills and a graveyard.<br />
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Remembering and reflecting. Glad to escape the 9-5, yet still a little dull inside. </div>
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We met such lovely people. Who shamed me with there language skills.<br />
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I had fun. I love the city. I like the people. And they have amazing food.<br /><br /></div>
Charley.http://www.blogger.com/profile/18078933597053874215noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8536365217579940833.post-90410889168079584672013-11-26T13:27:00.001-08:002013-11-26T13:39:20.178-08:00Solitude Saving my Soul..<br />
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.<br />
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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-<b><i>every</i></b> 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).<br />
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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?!!<br />
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I feel so damn good- refreshed and energized. I want to be nice to everyone again! </div>
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Solitude has totally saved my soul this weekend. </div>
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Charley.http://www.blogger.com/profile/18078933597053874215noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8536365217579940833.post-78257280949925503672013-11-19T13:03:00.003-08:002013-11-19T13:03:49.002-08:00Tears. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br />Usual tears are easy enough to hold back, and they are not often triggered by films or images very easily.<br /><br />These are two images that struck a chord tonight. Without warning i was sobbing. Something about fathers and their children.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-Od-XDY_OK27uAY5EW78NwGBWm-fuBPOdyONAgTXss9oTjoZUdTG7nZR42PWSEjA3Vl4YYcyoJfnuB7O08hz3O2idfrNNQfTCXJ0gFdjYaSJSQFi0fhbjwDiGUwf2vA_25RhCdEqI2sI0/s1600/awesome-photos45.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="432" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-Od-XDY_OK27uAY5EW78NwGBWm-fuBPOdyONAgTXss9oTjoZUdTG7nZR42PWSEjA3Vl4YYcyoJfnuB7O08hz3O2idfrNNQfTCXJ0gFdjYaSJSQFi0fhbjwDiGUwf2vA_25RhCdEqI2sI0/s640/awesome-photos45.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #777777; font-family: 'Droid Serif', sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 22px;">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)</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #777777; font-family: 'Droid Serif', sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 22px; text-align: center;">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)<br /><br /></span></div>
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I mean i don't particularly enjoy how much my father likes to hold my hand, but im glad he does- and can. </div>
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Charley.http://www.blogger.com/profile/18078933597053874215noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8536365217579940833.post-62899283454769348672013-10-25T15:01:00.000-07:002013-10-25T15:01:45.364-07:00Comfort Eating.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I've been comfort eating. </h4>
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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.</div>
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Irreverent. Anyhoo...<br /><br />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.<br /></div>
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<b>Reason 1</b>- The Boring: Heart Ache.<br /><br /> 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.<br /> 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.<br />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 <i>always </i>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.<br /><br />There are more, but they are too close to my heart for now.</div>
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<br /><b>Reason 2- </b>The Bland: Moving Out.</div>
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<br />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.</div>
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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.<br /><div style="text-align: center;">
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<br /><br /><b>Reason 3-</b> The Basic: What am i living for?</div>
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So im looking at flats. Tonight i found some more to view. I then sat and done some sums:<br /></div>
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Yearly wage<br /> -Tax<br /> -National insurance<br /> -Rent<br /> -Food<br /> -Travel to work<br /> =£££<br /><br />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?<br /><br />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.<br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">
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.</div>
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Charley.http://www.blogger.com/profile/18078933597053874215noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8536365217579940833.post-45254789039867724262013-09-30T16:21:00.000-07:002013-09-30T16:24:04.030-07:00Reflections. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Memories. They get twisted and warped in our minds. Reflection is a dangerous business.</div>
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Reflections- by Charlotte H. Knox</div>
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Charley.http://www.blogger.com/profile/18078933597053874215noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8536365217579940833.post-6157992291860575602013-09-29T11:13:00.000-07:002013-09-29T11:13:08.020-07:00Autumn is coming...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="text-align: start;">... And i'm getting restless.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Autumn Travel- by Charlotte H. Knox 2009</span><br /> </div>
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 <i>ness</i>, 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.<br /><br />I have to settle. At least for a little while.<br /><br />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. <br /><br />
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I want to see Europe. Now. </div>
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I need a new project.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div>
Charley.http://www.blogger.com/profile/18078933597053874215noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8536365217579940833.post-8835637238550237332013-09-17T14:45:00.001-07:002013-09-17T14:45:45.815-07:00A Drink with Jam and Bread.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="text-align: start;">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.</span></div>
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<b>Yesterday was the start of this roller coaster going up. </b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmIXvHQFwdbJLrwK4JMsEWZ6Q_DxNTFuSqufkvKuuMCOSQQO865ugfuCN5k81da7yJ_VqbwU0BSDrUssKe6npRiaXvSeawMqn3QhButtRs0shnZiqFtChBrNZpKqvjc-ITe56K25eArb0P/s1600/tea+and+jam.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmIXvHQFwdbJLrwK4JMsEWZ6Q_DxNTFuSqufkvKuuMCOSQQO865ugfuCN5k81da7yJ_VqbwU0BSDrUssKe6npRiaXvSeawMqn3QhButtRs0shnZiqFtChBrNZpKqvjc-ITe56K25eArb0P/s640/tea+and+jam.jpg" width="640" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br />Tea, a drink with jam and bread, that makes the day better and could cure the world.<br /><br /><br /><br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/xIjobdArtiA?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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Charley.http://www.blogger.com/profile/18078933597053874215noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8536365217579940833.post-32256708995516541972013-09-15T09:30:00.001-07:002013-09-15T09:30:22.282-07:00FavoritesI 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).<br />
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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:<br />
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<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kyk3RRSXheE">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kyk3RRSXheE</a></div>
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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.<br />
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<b>Now, two years later, i still listen to the song most weeks. And i'd say its one of my <i>favorites</i>. </b></div>
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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...Charley.http://www.blogger.com/profile/18078933597053874215noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8536365217579940833.post-24436192667949063922013-09-14T11:08:00.004-07:002013-10-28T15:03:51.909-07:00Soup of the Audible Sort.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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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.....<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbL67dSdIyfpOvpxAlhcyGxgjIqLEZ7BgsEeI_mtMAyTWgVAYJCWzfqeL11G6AXE84AeSOgWPN8W-Yhk4CBsS2qapEQEtVgt8y01VibJxke4Q1pNMuezT_9r60VpQsFjFTifI2UEZcNm9m/s1600/BeFunky_null_3973.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbL67dSdIyfpOvpxAlhcyGxgjIqLEZ7BgsEeI_mtMAyTWgVAYJCWzfqeL11G6AXE84AeSOgWPN8W-Yhk4CBsS2qapEQEtVgt8y01VibJxke4Q1pNMuezT_9r60VpQsFjFTifI2UEZcNm9m/s640/BeFunky_null_3973.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<b>I don't like festivals. </b><br />
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Or at least i think i don't. Large groups of people don't do it for me, generally.<br />
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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.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrdq6Sa-JUeLvCAcTYzXBH2KWqljGoPps5jlSRh_eEkE04BZSdF8P4tzTc70Xl84CmfhnBW3WcfwTr_M05DRtI6_4ANdhyjD1OY6tFYa2w91VHE0XlIQUFlqzuE0nQcUFLjb3cdqiR7PtX/s1600/BeFunky_IMG_3478.jpg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrdq6Sa-JUeLvCAcTYzXBH2KWqljGoPps5jlSRh_eEkE04BZSdF8P4tzTc70Xl84CmfhnBW3WcfwTr_M05DRtI6_4ANdhyjD1OY6tFYa2w91VHE0XlIQUFlqzuE0nQcUFLjb3cdqiR7PtX/s640/BeFunky_IMG_3478.jpg.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6b1bSZN4sTSW2pFjXVKmHDBLRATfKNEFucqzzH77GYsxqz8ymU5sCMr_JzgkB0PrO7cNs5518GEAYtKehBPViBFbf91RP3RRryeGp9pAuIE2XZqEBGVOz3-lAav7ltvk7HBZWSs44v-yx/s1600/BeFunky_IMG_3996.jpg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6b1bSZN4sTSW2pFjXVKmHDBLRATfKNEFucqzzH77GYsxqz8ymU5sCMr_JzgkB0PrO7cNs5518GEAYtKehBPViBFbf91RP3RRryeGp9pAuIE2XZqEBGVOz3-lAav7ltvk7HBZWSs44v-yx/s640/BeFunky_IMG_3996.jpg.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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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 <i>focused</i> 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.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9bKlexgTellZ9v72ydpm-nJldujqNZjeNNOp3COCh6IwvqT52ngXd-TblagL07APj-z6e6vW4_QfqWossn0SNgJS3MFQc2_8kxo4Gs9NdgNeFCLmiW7xzw6KVN6ti6aKebAX-wosHusOp/s1600/BeFunky_IMG_3610.jpg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9bKlexgTellZ9v72ydpm-nJldujqNZjeNNOp3COCh6IwvqT52ngXd-TblagL07APj-z6e6vW4_QfqWossn0SNgJS3MFQc2_8kxo4Gs9NdgNeFCLmiW7xzw6KVN6ti6aKebAX-wosHusOp/s320/BeFunky_IMG_3610.jpg.jpg" width="213" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_oQzMGwdtjvKFX1Uo6OF26aPQWHEgaZGuq2rq2NGb_pwWIL03D_9R7lkjrPGXribNU9Hfr8HnKccRhSuFJelPseJsgXcdfrC-Ew1xi8obF6fams5sYvkXmAo-4yDlB_EcGTNPZRHLSI5Y/s1600/BeFunky_IMG_3839.jpg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_oQzMGwdtjvKFX1Uo6OF26aPQWHEgaZGuq2rq2NGb_pwWIL03D_9R7lkjrPGXribNU9Hfr8HnKccRhSuFJelPseJsgXcdfrC-Ew1xi8obF6fams5sYvkXmAo-4yDlB_EcGTNPZRHLSI5Y/s320/BeFunky_IMG_3839.jpg.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
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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 <b>never</b> 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 <i>three </i>bits of bacon on. It is this that made my weekend.<br />
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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.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji0_5HZl13qW-LJlImqVtLAAnPxwOxxHfM6bNAe7GSpMXx9Bb22TCysyi492SNbUqd5y6zke5zjeHoL-LJfnSYRlJnP3uCst6vN_L2lKIZUDuNlCb1bPRbyWDjskNvJ0ZEj15f3HabaVPm/s1600/BeFunky_IMG_3781.jpg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji0_5HZl13qW-LJlImqVtLAAnPxwOxxHfM6bNAe7GSpMXx9Bb22TCysyi492SNbUqd5y6zke5zjeHoL-LJfnSYRlJnP3uCst6vN_L2lKIZUDuNlCb1bPRbyWDjskNvJ0ZEj15f3HabaVPm/s640/BeFunky_IMG_3781.jpg.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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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).<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlVCMkDmxMZT9As8AisbNUNLKb7FXgu_Cytldy6brm1DXveJ6bsdNyipTheAx-0SCkTgva_-ZKfa4r0GF7USYBhTfcXscd9NQg4uHCG0gUZUXgYy9lKR88BTbNqDt08S2Chlv_Y8z-IMGk/s1600/BeFunky_null_3970.jpg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlVCMkDmxMZT9As8AisbNUNLKb7FXgu_Cytldy6brm1DXveJ6bsdNyipTheAx-0SCkTgva_-ZKfa4r0GF7USYBhTfcXscd9NQg4uHCG0gUZUXgYy9lKR88BTbNqDt08S2Chlv_Y8z-IMGk/s640/BeFunky_null_3970.jpg.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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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.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHnRcF3R9UIPK2yhtcmHAt53CMshFPsWK8yhLHDU2mJm3GqIiWRKA0miISCbSahsOpDQyBTJ6jxze7bUH2YMnUrwSgoPzloJvyFVwwtfuSlHxlHdtW0t0kEgNVU6Pro6uLZAQQYvsKScuR/s1600/BeFunky_IMG_3602.jpg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHnRcF3R9UIPK2yhtcmHAt53CMshFPsWK8yhLHDU2mJm3GqIiWRKA0miISCbSahsOpDQyBTJ6jxze7bUH2YMnUrwSgoPzloJvyFVwwtfuSlHxlHdtW0t0kEgNVU6Pro6uLZAQQYvsKScuR/s320/BeFunky_IMG_3602.jpg.jpg" width="213" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivyr4CqY8mTuAucr_QidnTpzdpuyuxpFIGwMMzoNk4Ys1n86NEs95idL6Q8z0bzi3C2U_v_TL_f3YhGIfJxWj-ZMflahFfHn4kF8MazeJWV6K_zIK10JnMETzbD65gQdT60IVnxWxOPnJc/s1600/BeFunky_IMG_3607.jpg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivyr4CqY8mTuAucr_QidnTpzdpuyuxpFIGwMMzoNk4Ys1n86NEs95idL6Q8z0bzi3C2U_v_TL_f3YhGIfJxWj-ZMflahFfHn4kF8MazeJWV6K_zIK10JnMETzbD65gQdT60IVnxWxOPnJc/s320/BeFunky_IMG_3607.jpg.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
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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.<br />
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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.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBxcnZeHNe-B0qFT6RxmXQ37QluRICoxtkRY0r_7MAo4bILclIfMXyITp2yTIWrC6O6WTzqQi6GM0JRPwpAg7GbCunbnQKi4ZTo6WQh9jOsevef0PkbXbScHLKLu0cDmp5eqU8AhDV8kFL/s1600/BeFunky_IMG_3538.jpg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBxcnZeHNe-B0qFT6RxmXQ37QluRICoxtkRY0r_7MAo4bILclIfMXyITp2yTIWrC6O6WTzqQi6GM0JRPwpAg7GbCunbnQKi4ZTo6WQh9jOsevef0PkbXbScHLKLu0cDmp5eqU8AhDV8kFL/s640/BeFunky_IMG_3538.jpg.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Yet again i enjoyed a festival for large groups of, splendid, people.<br />
And after a year of transitions, travels and brief encounters i've found some wonderful people to call friends.</div>
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This guy played at Doune. I enjoyed this:</div>
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<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ooNzNe4JEZ8">Esperi</a></div>
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Charley.http://www.blogger.com/profile/18078933597053874215noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8536365217579940833.post-10094570065162931232013-09-08T17:24:00.001-07:002013-09-10T03:21:38.076-07:00Over the Sea.We went sailing- some of the best gentlemen i know and i.<br />
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I like boats, and i love the ocean- something about fathomless bodies of water, and not being able to touch the bottom alive. So when Tim asked if I'd be interesting in sailing and being part of his new venture (<a href="https://www.facebook.com/pages/Quetzal-Shipping-and-Trading/352628908185925">Quetzal Shipping and Trading</a>) of course jumped at the chance.<br />
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We went sailing off the west coast of Scotland, up The sound of Mull to Tobermory and back again. Sailing is brilliant, hard work, but brilliant. It was an interesting week for myself. It was the first week of my travels this year and so challenges arose: I like being alone, sometimes i actually need to be alone, and thus sharing 33ft of space with 5 other bodies (no matter how wonderful and lovely those bodies are) was always going to be interesting for me. However, i don't think i done too bad. Everyone else was, of course, too lovely for me to have any complaints about their presence. <br />
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I was also the only female, which is not something that bothers hugely. However, when i am the only girl i feel as if i have to prove myself. At the very least i must match the weakest male emotionally and physically. With this i failed. I cried twice. Once just because the shower i was trying to have ran cold... I am ashamed to admit this isn't the first time a cold shower has reduced me to tears, but there you go my Achilles heal. Everyone was, of course, very nice about my feminine behavior, and that was a huge relief. The whole thing just got me over myself a little bit more, which is always a good thing.<br />
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These aren't complaints, well the lack of decent showering facilities at Oban bay are, but otherwise these are just some of my unfavorable attributes highlighted to me on this trip, that over the last 6 months i've been attempting to adjust. I've found myself observing unfavorable characteristics in myself and at least for now i've recognized them. I'm getting round to fixing them.<br />
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Here are some of the beautiful sights we saw on our adventure:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj09mPlo4dcSmV865QPMuHZFRjYVOhATMDhZ0Zj4aJD8_Pjlw0RX62aw19KMDtySMa_HqexXY3gpIRmTztIRdth9j5kfhs-W3Byr-q1BRvwu3zrmhUQDPJQxYXtiv9mGQWTMapvEj59QfFk/s1600/BeFunky_VintageColors_2.jpg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj09mPlo4dcSmV865QPMuHZFRjYVOhATMDhZ0Zj4aJD8_Pjlw0RX62aw19KMDtySMa_HqexXY3gpIRmTztIRdth9j5kfhs-W3Byr-q1BRvwu3zrmhUQDPJQxYXtiv9mGQWTMapvEj59QfFk/s640/BeFunky_VintageColors_2.jpg.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Driving north- less breathtaking thank you'd expect from the west coast of Scotland Due to the heavy fog the whole way- but enjoyable none the less.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_Zq27R3Pi20qOxYL8PzvzorU1lwHGIfjheWGdyci0geA8_eEWM_Clai2EBTXg9ncGy6h98w_qU8NEW0N7zkvcGvatUJzQkdRxe51tbvnuQ2GK0oZM80Cj3sxyI5-5KMk8pFAWlb8LrKYC/s1600/BeFunky_DSC00955.jpg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_Zq27R3Pi20qOxYL8PzvzorU1lwHGIfjheWGdyci0geA8_eEWM_Clai2EBTXg9ncGy6h98w_qU8NEW0N7zkvcGvatUJzQkdRxe51tbvnuQ2GK0oZM80Cj3sxyI5-5KMk8pFAWlb8LrKYC/s640/BeFunky_DSC00955.jpg.jpg" width="428" /></a></div>
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The Skipper. He has the right idea about life.<br />
<span style="text-align: left;">We liked him instantly. After we all got</span> on the boat for the first time, having introduced ourselves to Paul, our skipper, and having a brief on land introduction to some safety things. We get on the boat, already a little damp and cold from the Scottish weather, and settle down to have a little chat about the upcoming adventure. Our skipper duly produces a long rectangular box and asked us what we thought it contained- baring in mind it was essential for all sailing ventures. After we had all guessed (incorrectly) things like maps, charts and compass. He opened the box and reviled six whiskey tumblers. </div>
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There was just something insanely attractive about boats to me, and the reflections in the water were amazing.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsMJDy2fRDJoSvww8kq-luJB6fv2M50gIiIMk5UrX2IYVKWmUcSuqzDewbZ3hpSfH0yhz0VsiPXLJUWMNFxCqOBXfzrKF_Fz92ikPBp72yVBIdVX30w0DSs-j3Wjwc9Zrr1W9OGOOj40__/s1600/BeFunky_DSC01050.jpg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsMJDy2fRDJoSvww8kq-luJB6fv2M50gIiIMk5UrX2IYVKWmUcSuqzDewbZ3hpSfH0yhz0VsiPXLJUWMNFxCqOBXfzrKF_Fz92ikPBp72yVBIdVX30w0DSs-j3Wjwc9Zrr1W9OGOOj40__/s640/BeFunky_DSC01050.jpg.jpg" width="428" /></a></div>
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Another first: Rory, Isaac and i climbed the mast! <br />
The view was stunning. The climb was difficult. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT4mwrGJMmiVRmTsf2RYgrPrW6jVDksTWoLBnpsLQfRlFSoHRDBKdPS7ii7pdMDYZy-alOCIDgzzJUqNrGMuuiCNJ7QNCWPBGcx7bMSbikKaygRzbK255ZgQeQ3GiFwyuoF6tusFBNVQFX/s1600/BeFunky_DSC01091.jpg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT4mwrGJMmiVRmTsf2RYgrPrW6jVDksTWoLBnpsLQfRlFSoHRDBKdPS7ii7pdMDYZy-alOCIDgzzJUqNrGMuuiCNJ7QNCWPBGcx7bMSbikKaygRzbK255ZgQeQ3GiFwyuoF6tusFBNVQFX/s640/BeFunky_DSC01091.jpg.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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We Anchored in this bay one night (i've forgotten its name) and went and explored the island while the sun set. Scotland is beautiful.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu2kBwEkccW0pA224tqPAutwT4Lq-7NPWQa_6VWhudl3ko1uzbyNg7qSMHjnkNsMd9wnN4ti-K-_Pfw_4r7QcU4plrQZCO1kmaVGWnHj2lC8NHh0p4gXVgg2rcVjaJc9RJ1rk_1_v7frVy/s1600/BeFunky_DSC01163.jpg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu2kBwEkccW0pA224tqPAutwT4Lq-7NPWQa_6VWhudl3ko1uzbyNg7qSMHjnkNsMd9wnN4ti-K-_Pfw_4r7QcU4plrQZCO1kmaVGWnHj2lC8NHh0p4gXVgg2rcVjaJc9RJ1rk_1_v7frVy/s640/BeFunky_DSC01163.jpg.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Mid week we reached Tobermory,on the isle of Mull. We ate fish and chips- or rather the boys ate fish and chips, while i hid from seagulls.And in the evening we all went to The Mishnish Pub, drank merrily, enjoyed music and played darts. The pub recorded Rory and Isaac playing a little:<br />
<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yUIzMPjKA6c">Music in the pub.</a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU6GQpLsCg1R7hL_QqNKf9a2Dpz4LW6m1HdSqAkIr0yCv6Zw4t2UHSWln2yQQrgVsxpqx6weCvomTRgQsJlREiULjsRxt-7K5m2pf7a305CSL2uEpLhkSeROvRvuLeed4BPwYdEucIP6F5/s1600/BeFunky_DSC01182.jpg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU6GQpLsCg1R7hL_QqNKf9a2Dpz4LW6m1HdSqAkIr0yCv6Zw4t2UHSWln2yQQrgVsxpqx6weCvomTRgQsJlREiULjsRxt-7K5m2pf7a305CSL2uEpLhkSeROvRvuLeed4BPwYdEucIP6F5/s640/BeFunky_DSC01182.jpg.jpg" width="428" /></a></div>
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Our Skipper played us some old island songs, and told some excellent stories.<br />
The pub recorded him also, and the link be <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LOursr0RR68">Here.</a><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP21hqEUXQKwm1upFksyPZPbX3NMEFr85TxNL2lZFmWgYRQII3WsR8lGay4wGsvb39_2FiX-9hnsOjy0_B0vHRms0myfSwF1gXjMK8VyxxVomAaPu_s-iTsz9G-cIDSfcu5ICVYgPWb79U/s1600/BeFunky_DSC00949.jpg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP21hqEUXQKwm1upFksyPZPbX3NMEFr85TxNL2lZFmWgYRQII3WsR8lGay4wGsvb39_2FiX-9hnsOjy0_B0vHRms0myfSwF1gXjMK8VyxxVomAaPu_s-iTsz9G-cIDSfcu5ICVYgPWb79U/s640/BeFunky_DSC00949.jpg.jpg" width="425" /></a><br />
Mr Timothy Dennis- Day Skipper.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_TmsuiB4mCJSVbJRlfwReFH-6mumqAv7jV4RbXr2F3PILJBLFhkO8BE0CqiIwHkyoWdUCFa42TBKIEi_8JYD-VCS-iG1V__ppXQj7DbeHwHwZhcg1kjPDFF6oxHbkr_DtBe9_x7YAe-Jm/s1600/BeFunky_DSC01233.jpg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_TmsuiB4mCJSVbJRlfwReFH-6mumqAv7jV4RbXr2F3PILJBLFhkO8BE0CqiIwHkyoWdUCFa42TBKIEi_8JYD-VCS-iG1V__ppXQj7DbeHwHwZhcg1kjPDFF6oxHbkr_DtBe9_x7YAe-Jm/s640/BeFunky_DSC01233.jpg.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Pirating.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUlHt3CDkLCjCArY1nRVGfnpNwcChvb5xwSw9ecbbmXEgG4M9wkD63tPaJl3CLOYtLLFBOoTvPloVvRzjGjcZX9xzlb8Tq6AGORE6R1eJ-carN6xo9kzMby8Cjd1fcFI-VkniVAU1RrYWR/s1600/BeFunky_DSC00977.jpg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUlHt3CDkLCjCArY1nRVGfnpNwcChvb5xwSw9ecbbmXEgG4M9wkD63tPaJl3CLOYtLLFBOoTvPloVvRzjGjcZX9xzlb8Tq6AGORE6R1eJ-carN6xo9kzMby8Cjd1fcFI-VkniVAU1RrYWR/s640/BeFunky_DSC00977.jpg.jpg" width="424" /></a><br />
Playing.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtOGprImxADuRr_zExufyq_nYxYeTXv5W-rYDJr03CKs988SAMu43blnWut8IxYwVWS9EZ2f5H4E9rhlknDuj79EukwuFGGgpYXQCK8C51tHgdw5TgJ4jnMlvIs7FnixuDvvOsDWSvwM85/s1600/BeFunky_DSC01357.jpg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtOGprImxADuRr_zExufyq_nYxYeTXv5W-rYDJr03CKs988SAMu43blnWut8IxYwVWS9EZ2f5H4E9rhlknDuj79EukwuFGGgpYXQCK8C51tHgdw5TgJ4jnMlvIs7FnixuDvvOsDWSvwM85/s640/BeFunky_DSC01357.jpg.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
Beautiful, beautiful.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_TTqxFrtmblM_mFpWbHU7mImQDHNqUJKCuAXQdPU6Egu7SRlN7__7MtgSXdYbkzvtRlN_66BDNV_44UGWxf64-mhlvxZ9K_ldgQaz9F5TGE_MQQi9DmyF4i_4yjHVSY2106iNIbsIcHsn/s1600/BeFunky_DSC01318.jpg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_TTqxFrtmblM_mFpWbHU7mImQDHNqUJKCuAXQdPU6Egu7SRlN7__7MtgSXdYbkzvtRlN_66BDNV_44UGWxf64-mhlvxZ9K_ldgQaz9F5TGE_MQQi9DmyF4i_4yjHVSY2106iNIbsIcHsn/s640/BeFunky_DSC01318.jpg.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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The last night was splendid. As the sun set over by Ben Nevis, we poured ourselves a well deserved whiskey and danced up and down the boat, swinging each-other by the arm and cheering, to some Scottish folk music. And when the sun set and the music stopped we lay out on deck and watched the stars for a while.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-CpnYraiTkxeI5RkK8DSZhUS1vzQEKSWCSrMfODnHziBwhddREAjqSy4F82LYC6_H_-OAOevU7OxgJshuLipr0ihm4KnVDP1qwzz2HgfpLEdqFOtLEZX3fxHxmIzcMDcdBjzm4cAiRJTP/s1600/BeFunky_DSC01374.jpg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-CpnYraiTkxeI5RkK8DSZhUS1vzQEKSWCSrMfODnHziBwhddREAjqSy4F82LYC6_H_-OAOevU7OxgJshuLipr0ihm4KnVDP1qwzz2HgfpLEdqFOtLEZX3fxHxmIzcMDcdBjzm4cAiRJTP/s640/BeFunky_DSC01374.jpg.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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So was the first venture for Quetzal. </div>
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It was an adventure indeed, and the sea has stolen my heart.<br />
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<b><br />A beutiful song for the occasion.<br /><a href="https://soundcloud.com/caitlingilligan/a-song-for-the-sea-caitlin">A song for the Sea</a></b><br />
By a beautiful friend of mine.</div>
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Charley.http://www.blogger.com/profile/18078933597053874215noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8536365217579940833.post-72032086131342967592013-09-05T16:38:00.001-07:002013-09-05T16:42:06.379-07:00Anxiety. <div style="text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdnxRJxZkRLzoXa7wMpriP2_ScB9CxpEMSF8sr-wjYazChAth4nFiUBubyC-DMlnSBMBfAXNXX7spenTDk1x7erf1HdUFj7AhGMuTV4_prnIzBfXrot1KYbJxKKpSQ5xjigymE_-HBZ0bA/s1600/BeFunky_DSC06413.jpg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdnxRJxZkRLzoXa7wMpriP2_ScB9CxpEMSF8sr-wjYazChAth4nFiUBubyC-DMlnSBMBfAXNXX7spenTDk1x7erf1HdUFj7AhGMuTV4_prnIzBfXrot1KYbJxKKpSQ5xjigymE_-HBZ0bA/s640/BeFunky_DSC06413.jpg.jpg" width="428" /></a></div>
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Anxiety- By Charlotte H. Knox.<br />
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Charley.http://www.blogger.com/profile/18078933597053874215noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8536365217579940833.post-59074037279097531142013-07-16T08:32:00.000-07:002013-07-16T08:32:48.809-07:00Holland and the Quetzal.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I've been slacking on this, as usual... But i'm going to make up for it now. </div>
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We went to Holland!<br />
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Some friends of mine had this idea to set up a company. <br />
This company: <a href="https://www.facebook.com/pages/Quetzal-Shipping-and-Trading/352628908185925">Quetzal Shipping and Trading </a><br />
Its sail powered shipping, with a whole load of things like philanthropy,<span style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.390625px;"> </span>sustainable living and investing in community too. And its a wonderful idea that i am very pleased to be part of.<br />
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Currently there is only one ship in the world that does this for of cargo transport. Their website can be found <a href="http://svtreshombres.homestead.com/Index.html">here.</a> This company is based in Holland, and so is our friend who is helping with the project, so naturally we went to visit. Our visit let us meet wonderful people who have the knowledge and experience we need to start this company, and also gave us ideas and connections that will help take the company forward.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgxJ9C_mQzFEeKs-eytaztThp9AKLHcm6DD4xjkl00vNmSJkgtnBKZnYx_RvhQexywfBdG69JefGm-MFQKQSY0GoPG_H-tTpQFnKytLpOw7X_IUAE4TXx4C30SQow4tmzyEbaL9IEE8rJH/s1600/BeFunky_IMG_2420.jpg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgxJ9C_mQzFEeKs-eytaztThp9AKLHcm6DD4xjkl00vNmSJkgtnBKZnYx_RvhQexywfBdG69JefGm-MFQKQSY0GoPG_H-tTpQFnKytLpOw7X_IUAE4TXx4C30SQow4tmzyEbaL9IEE8rJH/s640/BeFunky_IMG_2420.jpg.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Naturally we had to take a boat over to the Netherlands. And this was our welcome- a hugely industrialized shore, which was magnificent in its own type of beautiful.</div>
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Mr Timothy Dennis- The man with the ideas.<br />
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And Holland is a most beautiful place.</div>
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We met the guys from the Tres Hombres. They were lovely, and inspirational.</div>
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This trip was my first taster of Quetzal Shipping and Trading. It allowed me to properly understand what the aims were, and meet the people involved. The project is steadily moving forward and i am enjoying every part i get to play in it.</div>
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The good comany, or i should say CREW!</div>
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Charley.http://www.blogger.com/profile/18078933597053874215noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8536365217579940833.post-8537023851850792332013-04-08T08:56:00.000-07:002013-04-08T08:56:07.483-07:00I don't hate her. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I dont hate Mrs Thatcher, and i shall not celebrate her death, or be pleased she is dead. </div>
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Still, here is a topical and enjoyable song. </div>
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Charley.http://www.blogger.com/profile/18078933597053874215noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8536365217579940833.post-63861439276536403232013-04-08T06:32:00.000-07:002013-04-08T06:32:40.592-07:00New Places For Old People. 2. Hitching with fatherThe father and i watched "Into The Wild" together for the first time, in May, last year. At the end of which, as usual, i was enthused and inspired and hastily exclaimed that i was going away the following week on a mini adventure. This remark was met with "Where are you going? How are you getting there? Where will you stay? How long for?" ect. ect. ect. His reaction is of course understandable, he is my dad after all.<br />
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To all of his questions i simply replied "I dunno." and shrugged. As i gave it thought i decided to hitch- a thought that wasn't so foreign in my head since i had been hitching for about two years previous to this trip- I had forgotten, however, my parents weren't fully aware of my more 'reckless' activities... So then that discussion happened. My father still not being totally satisfied that i would be okay- or just looking for an excuse to spend some time in my spectacular company- decided to accompany me.<br />
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It wasn't a long trip together.<br />
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We hitched to the east coast. Despite my fathers skepticism, and warnings, that hitching may be a long and difficult task, it took us no longer than 20 minutes to get a lift each time.</div>
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We made it to Arbroath where my father gave me a tour of his childhood holiday scenes, and also showed me the spot where he and his father had sung old hymns to the fishermen.</div>
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We then walked the coastal walk to Auchmithie.</div>
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After which i was beat.</div>
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So we set up camp, without tents, Right next to the old pier. </div>
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<br />That evening we cheated a little, and ate like kings. </div>
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Before retuning to camp and falling asleep to the sound of the ocean waves.</div>
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So day and night number one went rather well. A few blisters but no more injuries. We even had a good nights sleep. Day two started off well, with the most stunning sunrise i have ever seen. We hitched back into Arbroath and wandered the town for a while. But having no plan and feeling like we had to accommodate each-other the day started to drag out. We did find a fascination lighthouse museum, where we hung out and watched full length documentaries on building lighthouses to avoid the rain, before it closed.<br /><br /><br />
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Night number two was a tad more miserable, but at the same time gave better experience. So it wasn't all bad. Our attitudes to each-other warmed as we both had to sleep on a slope getting cold and damp and intermittently removing slugs and snails from our area.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />All in all it went well. My father knows his stuff, and has passed on enough that i can cope on my own. Perhaps one day he will believe that 100%. </div>
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<br />Charley.http://www.blogger.com/profile/18078933597053874215noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8536365217579940833.post-85974295414879861062013-04-06T14:40:00.002-07:002013-04-06T14:40:51.639-07:00New tastes for old buds. 1. Small changes. Perhaps this is an irrelevant teenage angst blog.<br />
<br />I have tried to avoid it. I don't want to moan about life. And i don't want to vomit fleeting emotions and cliched changes all over the place. However, i do want to record my story in a small form here. And since cliched changes and "cliche" because, well because they happen to most people in some form. I don't think i can (or should- sometimes i fail to appreciate people) dismiss others situations and feelings because they are important to them- and no matter how many times i hear about a girl dating the wrong boy and still crying over the brake up, that was not so unexpected. I shouldn't roll my eyes in exasperation because i know I've cried over a dumb boy in a scene very similar.<br /><br />Anyway this part Isn't about boys, promise. This is perhaps going to be the first in a small series of changes posts. Its been a weird year. Good, bad and ugly. A lot has been good. A lot has been simple change.<br /><br /><b>Small changes:</b><br />I have never been a fussy eater, but as far as i can remember i have disliked 6 things that the majority of people in the western world very much enjoy. In one year i have got over most of them, and enjoy them often.<br />
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Vietnamese coffee sort of started the snowball for me to try things I've never liked. I'm still working on tomato's, but I've given up on peanut butter.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">
Tonight is too much to go any further than food I'm afraid. I'll do better next time.<br /><br /><br /><br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/2BKUjnyf8uY?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br /><br /><br /><br /></div>
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Charley.http://www.blogger.com/profile/18078933597053874215noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8536365217579940833.post-55670097929465450782013-03-01T17:17:00.000-08:002013-03-01T17:17:03.028-08:00Some Seriously Smokin' Music.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Tom Waits- Alice.<br /><br /><br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/aEj-mrwwaxo?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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Charley.http://www.blogger.com/profile/18078933597053874215noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8536365217579940833.post-60259595373268705082013-03-01T17:04:00.000-08:002013-03-01T17:04:39.977-08:00An evening in an 80's film. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I went to her house. We got angry at boys together. We disagreed over politics. Got drunk. Smoked Drugs. And shaved our heads.<br />
<br /> Okay so most of that previous spiel is preposterous. Although at the end of the evening we did feel as if we had lived a little bit of our own 80's teenage angst movie. To be more accurate:<br /><br /> I went to her house. We did, of course, chat about boys. I'm sure social politics will have been discussed at some point in the evening. We drank tea and water from jars. Listened to some seriously smokin' music. And yes, we did cut all my hair off.<br /><br /> For all the time I spend trying not to enjoy repeating teenage history, I cant help myself. It wasn't for a boy. It was a cliche excuse. But in some ways it worked, I got what i asked for. <br />
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Before. After. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt2u5UPxiohbidWgR_SkkJ7f3Z4DwnSBnAqC3LRA20K3aZeOUISFwYFZV8VSaunPciRA2VVIx30ScmB394TreUlYAn1T_esQeQnjKCENHZHrQTo0yhjpUGziWCzd1bHch5OViwhuo6-xS_/s1600/BeFunky_IMAG1296.jpg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt2u5UPxiohbidWgR_SkkJ7f3Z4DwnSBnAqC3LRA20K3aZeOUISFwYFZV8VSaunPciRA2VVIx30ScmB394TreUlYAn1T_esQeQnjKCENHZHrQTo0yhjpUGziWCzd1bHch5OViwhuo6-xS_/s640/BeFunky_IMAG1296.jpg.jpg" width="426" /></a><br /><br />I lost half a pound in cutting my hair off.</div>
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<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Charley.http://www.blogger.com/profile/18078933597053874215noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8536365217579940833.post-4035669076147934972013-02-19T11:29:00.001-08:002013-02-19T11:29:38.785-08:00That City Barcelona I want to travel. Have done since I was 12 years old. Its the goal I try to orientate all of my activities around to accommodate.<br />
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As I've grown up, however, my idea of traveling has been changed. Molded and shaped by my experiences. The time scale on which I want to travel has changed, why I want to travel has changed, how I plan on traveling has changed, where I want to travel has changed, and how much money I need to travel the way I want to has changed.<br />
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In the last year especially (since around May 2012) traveling has become more of a foreign thought- although still my goal in life currently. I left school, completing only 5 years of high school, and not achieving my level best grades because academic achievements, by that point, weren't what I wanted. Leaving school and getting a job came in rather close succession and I thought that was it. I was making money, and thus well on my way to traveling the world. Again I proved to myself I was still ignorant to the world.<br />
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Money, or at least the amount of money I am trying to attain takes a bloody long time to acquire. Especially in a minimum pay, part time job. But more than that was causing my enthusiasm for traveling to dull. My job is lonely, I have less contact with old friends, even less contact with school friends, I wasn't of age to go to places<i> </i>I would find easiest to meet friends close to home. Then winter came. Making hitching harder because there is less day light, traveling around Scotland is harder because if I get stuck I cant just weather the night as its far too cold. So I felt stuck. I felt like I should be closer to my goal and yet I was getting further away.<br />
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However, in January 2013 my parents, along with my grandparents and an aunt, decided to spend some of their money on a trip to the 2nd best restaurant in the world, which is in Barcelona. It turns out January is not the most desirable time to travel to Barcelona, so accommodation is cheap and flights cheaper. And so I got an invite. Not to the restaurant, but to Barcelona.<br />
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My photos aren't similar. They are edited differently (and badly- one day i'll invest in a proper editing system) because the city was so diverse I couldn't create a single visual link the whole way through...<br />
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The city demands you to look up. </div>
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To witness architecture so beautiful every building could be from a painting. </div>
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A city of culture.</div>
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A food culture that far succeeds any i have ever seen.</div>
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Even in the park you could pick your own oranges from the tress. </div>
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Filled with all sorts of artists.</div>
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<span style="text-align: start;">All corners are filled. Alleyways my mere arm span wide, with Narnian like entrances and buildings that look to be falling in on each other. </span><span style="text-align: start;">Filled with drugs, good food, book shops and people- both suspicious and superbly friendly</span></div>
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I remembered I want to see the people who live in all these places. I want to understand their happiness and accumulate all their ideas to create my own. I remembered why I want to travel.</div>
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<b>I didnt document the trip as much as i had planned to. I was too busy seeing it. But i was happy with a few images to capture the memories of a city that gave me back my traveling bug. </b><br />
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<br />Charley.http://www.blogger.com/profile/18078933597053874215noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8536365217579940833.post-16741916144125925062013-02-14T14:13:00.000-08:002013-02-14T14:13:03.001-08:00To a future valentine. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
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<span style="text-align: start;">This song shall be played at my wedding. </span></div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/GqLTiTxKiME?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<br /><br />P.S.<br />I am not a fan of Valentines day. Apparently I am not a fan of many celebrated occasions. It makes it near impossible to find a nice place to eat dinner without reservations on the 14th of February.<br />
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<br />Charley.http://www.blogger.com/profile/18078933597053874215noreply@blogger.com0