A Picture of You.

There is nothing quite like memories.

Postcards, letters, pictures and diaries; I've got bundles of them all tucked away in old shoe boxes and storage containers.  I don't believe in leaving the past in the past, obviously. I like opening old birthday cards and seeing them signed by someone I love and trace my fingers over the ink dents their pens made. When I'm done reminiscing, I fold the card to it's original state and place it carefully back in to it's neat little envelope cocoon.

Then there are the pictures.

I can't remember when I stopped taking pictures, I must start doing that again because it used to be one of my favourite things. I'd sit as a moody eleven year-old and patch together scrapbooks of pictures I'd taken with my own - now vintage - Barbie camera that was prone to tangling spools. The pictures were of silly things, like the view from my bedroom window or of my trainers that I'd buried up to my ankles in to the soil in the back garden. I was a weird child. (I miss my weirdness. I seem to have lost it somewhere along the way to where I am now.)

Pictures bring with them something that you can't put in to words. As much of a cliché as the phrase is to me now, Arthur Brisbane got it right when he said 'Use a picture. It's worth a thousand words.' They are. They represent a moment in your life that from the second it's taken, you cannot go back to it. You can't physically relive it or skip it because you'll never have it again. It's happened, it's gone.

Well, until you look back at the evidence. Only then can you relive it in it's full detail; the colours, the clothes, the faces are all timeless. Frozen in a nanosecond of time that you felt the need to remember. There's nothing quite like finding an old photograph and being catapulted back in time in your mind, because your immediate reaction is to compare the then to the now. Whether your life is better or worse than the photographic point in your life, it doesn't matter. You look upon it with an element of fondness that no one else will understand because it's your memories and yours alone.

Which is why, when I found a picture of my beloved Papa, my heart filled with a happy love that I've been missing for a while. It's that kind of feeling you cannot buy, imitate or describe; you just know what feeling I'm talking about, don't you? That part of a human being that, no matter what kind of life you've lead or what traumas you've experienced, it never fully disappears. I like to think that's a person's soul where you keep everything you think you've forgotten; faces, smells, tastes, bonds. I don't think a person can fully let go of anything, I think we're designed to suffer, feel and try what life throws at us and it's how we cope with these things that define us. That shapes our souls.

I've been paying too much attention to trivial matters in my life as of late, so I am now ready for a change. Not a 'sitting weeping in the self-help section of the library' kind of change, I mean a simple TLC approach to my life from now on. Avoid people who bring out the worst in me, focus on the ones who are a constant love in my life and brush the negative feelings aside instead of dwelling on them for days on end. I've realised it's no way to live and I can't physically do it anymore, I'm exhausted. I need to rekindle past hobbies and integrate them with my new ones like a watercolor painting; subtle and not too scary. 

I feel like I've lost myself sometimes. It's as if I've packed myself away in one of my shoe boxes, hidden away until it's appropriate to come back out in to the real world again. To dust off what feels like a decade's worth of dust from my shoulders and reintroduce myself to everyone again as someone they knew once but can't quite remember where from. I need to be me again, but I need to find 'that' me again.

I'm not a victim, I'm not a dramatic wanker, I'm not a particularly fantastic person either. I do, however, have a few pretty fantastic people in my life right now that I'm holding on to with all of my power. The others? They'll just slip away and I'm okay with that. I'm surviving without their company and will continue to do so, but I won't let them wander in and out of my life. Once you've left, you need to stay gone. Harsh, I know - but that's how I've always approached my friendships and that's how it's going to stay. I don't believe that a person will willingly dwindle down their contact with someone if they still want to be in said person's life. It's just not possible, in my opinion. 

A lot can be ascertained by sifting through your memories. So, over the next few weeks, I'll be taking pictures and writing aplenty. I couldn't think of a better way to get to know myself again.  It's fun, exciting and something to look forward to.

It'll all be down to my discovery of one little Polaroid shot of a handsome smiling man, taken some twenty-odd years ago at Christmas time.

You're still here, giving me a push in the right direction.
I will love you for ever.

It's the most wonderful time of the year!

Christmas.

The baby Jesus' birthday or whatever. There was a donkey, failed contraceptives and a threesome involved. If that's not an excuse to eat loads and get drunk with your family then I don't know what is. This is the time of year when you can spoil your loved ones, meet up with old friends you haven't been able to see all year and get leathered on mulled wine in front of your Granny who doesn't mind because 'if it's mulled, it doesn't count'.

Saying that, if I see another piece of turkey in the next few weeks, I'll hurl. Far too much of it has been consumed this year and there are numerous tins of Celebrations scattered around our house. They're all open, of course. Everyone's digging around for the good sweeties; Maltesers, Galaxy, those truffle things... all that's left now are the ones no one wants. Bounty, Mars, Milky Way's all left to ferment.

The past six months have lead up to these past couple of weeks. Realising who/what actually matters. Being with the people you love, that make you laugh and that are there for you night or day. I also realised the people who I want to be there 24/7 for. Not just because I know they'd do it for me, but because I love them.

This was our second Christmas without my Papa. It wasn't as awful as I thought it would be, in all honesty. I didn't forget about him nor did I put a brave face on. I just got on with it! I smiled at memories and cried at the fact we'd never share another December 25th with him. I did however have a little moment when I went Christmas shopping and was about to pick up socks, jumpers and slippers (his usual presents) and had to remind myself that he wasn't here anymore.

Those moments happen quite a lot now. I'll see something funny or shocking in the paper and want to turn around and tell him, but I can't. I forget. I'm not sure if that's a good or bad thing, it doesn't feel bad or good. It just feels... normal. Normal is something I haven't felt for around three years, even before he passed away. I take some comfort in the fact he's not sitting on Christmas Day in pain or in an intensive care unit, but that doesn't fill the empty seat at the dinner table when we sit down as a family. That comfort doesn't bounce through the door at 8am on Christmas morning, give you a cuddle and a kiss on the cheek and wish you a Merry Christmas. It just nestles itself in your chest and reminds you everything is going to be fine.

So, that's what 2013 is going to be: fine.

Well, I'm going to try and make it better than fine, but it's a gradual process, ain't it? Last year started off horrific, this year will be fine and you never know... 2014 could start off good. Imagine that! 

Things I'm looking forward to in 2013:

• There is a someone. I like him. Very much.  
• I have the greatest family I could ever ask for.
• My friends are all kinds of awesome (even if there are fewer than there were last year!).
• I'm no longer mad at certain people (I still loathe them, but hey, maybe that'll fade...).
• Johnny Depp is single. (In case bullet point number one fails. ALWAYS HAVE A BACK-UP!)

Nothing is happening with bullet point number one, by the way. It's just nice to fancy someone without a load of drama. A nice feeling. But hey, if nothing comes of it, who cares. It's making me happy right now. I need to live in the moment more. 

So that's all folks. Have an awesome festive holiday and a cracking New Year.

See you in 2013!

A cure for caring.

Have you ever heard a bigger lie than, "I've learned to stop caring about what other people think" coming out of someone's mouth? It's all I seem to be hearing lately.

There is categorically no way that you can learn to stop caring. It's a part of our make-up, separates us from the animals, blah blah blah, etc. I have said it, you have said it, we've all said it and inside we all know we're talking complete bullshit. You'd rather hide the fact that you're hurt than expose that part of yourself to anyone - been there, done that. Shit happens, people suck and life's a bitch. What annoys me, is that we all listen to these people spouting off about how happy they are now that they've cut all ties with things or people who were making them unhappy and think to ourselves, "Am I doing something wrong?"

No.

Time heals all wounds, I believe. We need to learn that when someone hurts us that they shouldn't get off with it Scot-free. You are allowed to tell others what they have done to you, whether they believe you or not that's their problem. It's part of the healing process. The past year of my life has taught me more about friendship than years of primary/high school or college ever did. It's when you're at your lowest that you know who your true friends are because they'll be standing right there beside you, making sure you'll cope and when you can't - they step in without a second thought. That is true friendship to me, that's what I want.

I know I'll never stop caring about people who have hurt me, but that doesn't mean I'll forget what they have done. I'll hold them at arms length if they ever resurface in my life and I'll keep them as far away from my heart as I can. Sometimes things are unforgivable, sometimes too much time passes for you to accept an apology, sometimes there's just too much damage already done.

Sometimes they really should have thought twice about hurting you. 

Thinking things that shouldn't be thought.

I had a bit of an odd evening in work tonight. Odd in a good way, I hate to admit.

A person I haven't thought about in months came in to my mind today and, well, stayed there. I'm still thinking about him right now. It's the radio's fault, really.

As some of you may know (Twitter followers) I've been working the back shift for a few weeks now - so naturally, to keep all of us upbeat and awake, we blast the radio as we work. It's good for your mood, as well as the fact you don't really need to spend time speaking to folk. Anyway, tonight was no different; the tunes were blasting. Then an advert came on that just made me smile. It's a seasonal ad, so the last time I heard it, I had been in his company.

He hated it.

Not with the fervent hatred we all have reserved for the Go Compare man but like proper, boiling hatred. He'd go on and on and on about it every time we met up again for weeks. I of course found this hilarious because, well, that's me. Which is why I ended up standing in the middle of a crowded production line grinning my arse off like a complete idiot. And you know what? I didn't care. I felt a little twinge of happiness, mixed with regret - we haven't met up in months and things ended a little awkwardly the last time we saw each other. But that little moment tonight has made me realise I really do miss him, even though I shouldn't.

I shouldn't miss him because he probably doesn't miss me and that's okay. It doesn't bother me, not everyday. Just at a time like this when even the thought of bumping in to him puts a big, stupid smile on my face. I'd be lying if I said I didn't love this feeling.

So, I just wanted to write about it, before I forget it and it's gone forever.



Yours always,
Soppy Git.  

How 'involved' is too 'involved'?

High school is a tough place to grow up in.

Bullies, geeks, musicians, singers, geniuses, athletes, gingers, smelly kids, cute boys, hot teachers, awful canteen food and skipping classes. Those are just some of the experiences we've all been through and the people we used to face on a daily basis. Sometimes it was terrifying but on the other hand, some of the best days of my life were spent in high school. I met my best friends there, I went out with my first boyfriend, I realised what I wanted to do with the rest of my life there.

But, as the world would have it, with the good came the bad. I was bullied for the first two years of high school, quite severely, by a girl I had grown-up with (and the girls she hung around with) and who I thought was my friend. The reason? Someone showed her a text I'd sent, apparently stating that I hated her and that she was 'crusty'. This girl had psoriasis - I'd seen her go through hell all through her childhood, it was painful and she hated it. I sent no such text message, of course, but she believed someone else over me and, in turn, made my life complete torture for two entire years. Important years, may I add. Years I should have spent giggling in classes, making new friends and growing up. In those two years, I was too scared to do any of that. I stayed far away from new people, kept my head down in class and avoided eye contact with the majority. She'd text abuse and leave me vile voicemails when I was at home, so even then I couldn't relax. It was a living nightmare.

I survived, though. I didn't run away, hurt myself or end up emotionally scarred. I just learned. I learned not to trust people entirely, unless they are your family or, indeed, yourself. Always trust yourself, you're all you've got in some situations and that's something no one can take away from you if you have it. It's there for life, an investment, if you will. 
Everything happens for a reason.

The real reason for this post is because my little sister went through a bit of a rough patch this week with some 'friends'. Bitchy text messages, Twitter mentions and all the other sneaky little ways they could think of to get at her. Naturally as an older sister, I keep an eye on what's happening on her phone - I don't snoop, she shows me her phone when she thinks it's something I should know about. She's open about that sort of stuff (unlike me when I was her age), therefore I see everything. These girls she hangs around with don't really remember this when they're sending her these messages.

I like to let them know, one way or another, that I can see exactly what's going on. I reply to them and remove the phone from G's possession until the situation is resolved, when my Mum calls their's or vice versa. This time, I was in the firing line from one of the mothers. She wanted to tell me that her daughter was 'alone' and 'didn't have anyone to stand up for her' unlike my little sister.

Excuse me, but isn't that your fault for not procreating? And how is that an excuse for her to send my sister cheek over the phone/internet? It isn't my problem that your daughter cannot speak to you about her problems. That's your fault as a parent.

Fair enough, I'm having a bit of a rant and don't mean any disrespect to the woman or her daughter, it's not them I'm getting at. It's what's behind people's assumptions (I know, I've just assumed she doesn't speak to her daughter properly) and what gives people the right to treat others badly.

This begs the question, how involved is too involved?

I will never stop being there for my sister, ever. But should I have backed off this time? Should I have just taken the phone off of her and let my Mum make the phone calls? I don't know - I acted the way I needed to at that point. It may seem like a big deal was made out of this, which it was, but for a reason. You need to stand your ground at an early stage. You need to show people like that that you're not a push over.

I did for her what I wish someone had done for me years ago. I did the right thing, whether people think so or not.

A messy week.

I have lived up to my own expectations this week.

My week got off to a pretty bad start; I was removed from my comfort zone. As I work for an agency, this means I am sometimes required to move around the factory grounds going from hall to hall for shifts. It can be pretty awesome if you need a change, but in my case it was the opposite, it was a bit of a nightmare. I'm not good with change, so I descended in to panic.

I've worked in every hall possible in the three years I've been working there on and off, so I'm qualified for most of the jobs. But each hall has their ways of working and I'm not entirely familiar with them all (this is the part that panics me). I'm good at the jobs I do, I don't doubt myself in my little comfort zone - but when I'm moved I become overly anxious. Anxious to the point of a panic attack. It's normal for me as I've been like this my entire life, but I wonder if it's normal for anyone else?

Anyway, in my last post I spoke about my mission to do something unforgettable for my little sister's birthday. I had planned on taking her away for a long weekend to Dublin to witness a gig of a lifetime, Westlife, The Wanted & Lawson at Croke Park stadium for the last time. But, thanks to Ryanair, we're staying here. I was absolutely gutted when I went to book our flights, they were now priced at a staggering £400 return. Baggage was extortionate as was the insurance policy. If only I had booked up months ago and saved myself all this hassle. My worst worry was having to tell G that we wouldn't be doing anything nearly as awesome for her birthday this year. It felt like I'd made her an empty promise. Naturally she was devastated, which broke my heart. There's nothing worse than disappointing a loved one, is there? She had been looking forward to it for weeks, we both had, but now we were going nowhere.

But, remember what I said in my last post? 

"Somehow I miraculously manage to get these things done. I don't know how or why, I just do. It's a sort of hidden talent, I guess."

 I have indeed lived by that and managed to arrange something just as spectacular. That night I searched the internet for options. A weekend away, a gig or two here and there. I had saved up a good few quid for this, so it wasn't as if I had no money to do anything. Then it hit me.

G had mentioned that The Wanted had a gig near the end of June in Blackpool. She had begged my Mum to go with one of her mates, but by then I had filled my Mum in about my Dublin plans, so we pretended it couldn't happen. G sulked, we smirked because we knew how happy she was about to be.

Ticketmaster was my ultimate saviour. There were tickets left and they were a fraction of the cost I had anticipated. The biggest result if there ever was one. I managed to bag two tickets, a B&B for £30 and a cheap as hell return deal with National Express. We are, ladies and gentleman, back in business. Blackpool here we come!

Oh, and the Westlife thing? Yeah, shame that didn't turn out as planned. It would have been nice to see them in their home town for the last time. I guess I'll just have to settle with third row for their last Glasgow gig. Yes! I bagged two tickets for Tuesday the 19th of June, the day before G's birthday. A result of a result of a result if there ever was one.

I think it's safe to say that G is ecstatic once again and luckily everything is bought, booked and paid for now, so there will be no last-minute let downs. I can relax.

Phew.

So, I'm ending this week on a high, people. A proper one.

Worries, Dublin and too much Big Bang Theory...

Seven weeks since I last blogged.

You'd think I had an exciting life or something. (For the record, I don't!) I've just been busy in my own head with loads of different things; university (do I want to go, do I not?), being back to work and earning pretty good money again and going for a placement with a fantastic radio station who may or may not have forgotten my existence (I am filling their inbox - as dirty as that may sound). On top of that my financial situation absolutely sucks.

I'm taking my little sister away to Dublin for her birthday weekend in two weeks time, so I'm running around like a blue-arsed fly trying to get everything sorted in time. I'm terrible at organising things and really should have kept it quiet until I'd got everything booked and paid for. I am a noob. On the other hand, I am incredibly talented at managing to get by, by the on the skin of my teeth. Somehow I miraculously manage to get these things done. I don't know how or why, I just do. It's a sort of hidden talent, I guess.

I'm currently sitting on my laptop in our kitchen, trying not to pull my hair out whilst looking at all these 'cheap' flights to Dubs. £195 each return. In what universe is that cheap? I can go on holiday for a bloody week to Malawi for that on Jet2.com! If any of you lovely lot have suggestions on where to look online, please, please, pleeease give me a shout. I will repay you in cuddles.

I blame the Jubilee for all this hassle.

In fact, I will continue to blame that old woman for everything bad that happens to me over the next few weeks. Tripping over my own feet = her fault. Not being able to eat in Dublin because I've spent all my money getting us there = her fault. Death by Ryanair = her fault...

... You catch my drift. (Bare with me, I haven't babbled in over 42 days.)

On a lighter note, I now have my internet connection back for the foreseeable future. I am happy about this. It was a good deed from my neighbour, letting us pillage his WiFi until we get our new techy gear from Plusnet, and I'm also back at work now after a five month blip. It wasn't as fun as it sounds; sitting around all day with nothing but your own thoughts to occupy you. It gets pretty scary sometimes. Work is as good as it was when I was there last (not the place I posted about with Bully) but now back in my comfort zone; surrounded by machinery, middle-aged women and good banter. I sound like some sort of lesbian cougar-hunter, don't I? Oh well, I've been called worse.

I've also been watching far too much Big Bang Theory these past couple of weeks, it's become an obsession now. (As well as my irrational crush on Jim Parsons.) It is true what folk say about how empty you feel when you reach the end of a fantastic programme! Wondering what to indulge in next, any suggestions? It's good to just sit down, relax and get swept up in great story lines. Grey's Anatomy is perhaps my next plan of action. Mainly for the McDreamy & McSteamyness.


Well folks, that's been a summary of my last 42+ days. Shame you didn't miss anything exciting, eh?