Angela Higgons is a 34 year old, un-married woman with a career going down hill.
She feels as if her life is incomplete and currently a roaming chaos. Which it is as well.
A compulsive liar with a twisted angle to life and relationships is struggling to find the man of her dreams. She lives in a hot-shot flat alone and paranoid with a pair of binnoculars in her window sill, always ready to look out for the man of her life. Read about Angela Higgins and her desperate attempts to find the perfect one for her...
Sunday, August 20, 2006
The Character Frannie
Frandela Twain Broomshead (aka Frannie) is a 23 year old woman from West Newbury, Essex. According to her doctor, Dr. Howard U. F. Eeling, she suffers from pretty much every phobia imaginable. Because of this, she takes series of heavy
rehabilitation classes in the vague hope of once recovering. She lives of government support and her hobbies include injections and vaccinations, shopping and dieting. Frannie also quite enjoys rubbing herself with itch relieving salves and creams or
painting her apartment over and over again. Struggles with love-life and finding her phobic place in the world creates an obscure world around her.
This blog features her experiences with the mentioned.
Quotes from incidents in her life!
"I could tell he was lying, because his lips were moving"
by Tina - Anger Management Group
"I swear te God, 't was tryin' ter kill me. It was at me legs and evr'thin" by Lex - Alektorophobia Relief
"Sometimes, at night. I can hear the sound of a polyester sweater climbing my bed post" by Lily - Textophobia Management
"Sitting on a chainsaw didn't remove the pain, or the fear. Now I realise that" by Graham - Rectophobia and Meditation Class
"I thought to be terrified of glasses and porcelain was perfectly normal, then my dog ran into our new verandah door until it died, and I realised I had a problem" by Edward - Nelophobia Therapy Circle
"My heart is longing, so full of love still, but no prince that can quench his thirst in it. I guess it's broken, undrinkable, poisonous.Unlovable" by Angela - Monophobia Lessons
rehabilitation classes in the vague hope of once recovering. She lives of government support and her hobbies include injections and vaccinations, shopping and dieting. Frannie also quite enjoys rubbing herself with itch relieving salves and creams or
painting her apartment over and over again. Struggles with love-life and finding her phobic place in the world creates an obscure world around her.
This blog features her experiences with the mentioned.
Quotes from incidents in her life!
"I could tell he was lying, because his lips were moving"
by Tina - Anger Management Group
"I swear te God, 't was tryin' ter kill me. It was at me legs and evr'thin" by Lex - Alektorophobia Relief
"Sometimes, at night. I can hear the sound of a polyester sweater climbing my bed post" by Lily - Textophobia Management
"Sitting on a chainsaw didn't remove the pain, or the fear. Now I realise that" by Graham - Rectophobia and Meditation Class
"I thought to be terrified of glasses and porcelain was perfectly normal, then my dog ran into our new verandah door until it died, and I realised I had a problem" by Edward - Nelophobia Therapy Circle
"My heart is longing, so full of love still, but no prince that can quench his thirst in it. I guess it's broken, undrinkable, poisonous.Unlovable" by Angela - Monophobia Lessons
Everything in this blog about Frannie or other characters is purely fictional except phobia names. Treatments discussed in this blog is not given from professionals and is not recommended for actual patients.
To learn more about phobias, visit
Phobialist.com
Friday, August 18, 2006
Obsession.
Randomly I had picked out a man from the bakery the other morning.
He was a nobody, wasn't he?
Not very tall, a bit round here and there, deep eyes, blonde, curled hair. How original. Dark eyes and light, fluffed angel-hair. He spoke with his unsteady accent. Where was his accent from? I was trying to get myself captivated, lost, drowned, drenched in him.
Seems it was harder than I thought. Why wouldn't love come by force? Why wouldn't those emotions sparkle and shine and glow and.. And glisten? Why wouldn't they? Why wouldn't I be able to sense his presence, or think about him for hours, why wouldn't I lay awake? Why not?
Because love can not be achieved by force? What kind of bullshit is that?
Of course it can! All that would be needed was for him to fall in love me. And I would make him do. I would. I would make him love me, that way I could just give more than I would take, all the way. Try to be resourceful and fascinating, I wouldn't tire him out, wouldn't let him go.
Then suddenly behave like a witch, be rude, short, take him for granted. Make him want me, need me. Oh yes.
All I would need was a perfect place in which I could trap him. But where? The bakery, was it too obvious? Hm, I tried. I tried the bakery, went several times, stalked it. Parked my car outside it and watched for nearly an hour.
nothing.
So I had to make another plan. I hadn't seen him for two days, he could be anyone from anywhere and I wouldn't know. I might never see him again. I had to make a plan. But how could I do that if I didn't even know where he was? How? How would I be able to see him again?
I walked around the area around my house, looking like a dump obviously, no need to put my face on before I had him cornered. It was exactly what I shouldn't have been thinking, because as I was in the middle of another plan I barged right into him. His eyes were calm, warm and caring. His unsteady accent retorting millions of apologies. The hood of my raincoat had slipped back, revealing a face that hand't seen concealer or mascara for three days.
My heart skipped at least five beats.
Shit.
But he seemed completely unaffected by the dark bags under my eyes, the spots a screaming red, the uncoloured lashes or my dry, chapped lips. Even the face he was looking upon that was now flourishing with embarassment he looked upon with admiring eyes. These deep, dark, sexy eyes.
Love by force. How ridiculous.
//Angela
He was a nobody, wasn't he?
Not very tall, a bit round here and there, deep eyes, blonde, curled hair. How original. Dark eyes and light, fluffed angel-hair. He spoke with his unsteady accent. Where was his accent from? I was trying to get myself captivated, lost, drowned, drenched in him.
Seems it was harder than I thought. Why wouldn't love come by force? Why wouldn't those emotions sparkle and shine and glow and.. And glisten? Why wouldn't they? Why wouldn't I be able to sense his presence, or think about him for hours, why wouldn't I lay awake? Why not?
Because love can not be achieved by force? What kind of bullshit is that?
Of course it can! All that would be needed was for him to fall in love me. And I would make him do. I would. I would make him love me, that way I could just give more than I would take, all the way. Try to be resourceful and fascinating, I wouldn't tire him out, wouldn't let him go.
Then suddenly behave like a witch, be rude, short, take him for granted. Make him want me, need me. Oh yes.
All I would need was a perfect place in which I could trap him. But where? The bakery, was it too obvious? Hm, I tried. I tried the bakery, went several times, stalked it. Parked my car outside it and watched for nearly an hour.
nothing.
So I had to make another plan. I hadn't seen him for two days, he could be anyone from anywhere and I wouldn't know. I might never see him again. I had to make a plan. But how could I do that if I didn't even know where he was? How? How would I be able to see him again?
I walked around the area around my house, looking like a dump obviously, no need to put my face on before I had him cornered. It was exactly what I shouldn't have been thinking, because as I was in the middle of another plan I barged right into him. His eyes were calm, warm and caring. His unsteady accent retorting millions of apologies. The hood of my raincoat had slipped back, revealing a face that hand't seen concealer or mascara for three days.
My heart skipped at least five beats.
Shit.
But he seemed completely unaffected by the dark bags under my eyes, the spots a screaming red, the uncoloured lashes or my dry, chapped lips. Even the face he was looking upon that was now flourishing with embarassment he looked upon with admiring eyes. These deep, dark, sexy eyes.
Love by force. How ridiculous.
//Angela
Thursday, August 10, 2006
French cooking course
was absolutely splendid! You should all try it!
Today we made a most amazing Chicken cordon bleu with ham and cheese!
YUMMEH.
/frannie
Today we made a most amazing Chicken cordon bleu with ham and cheese!
YUMMEH.
/frannie
Tuesday, August 08, 2006
Equilibrium
The state where everything is perfectly balanced.
I can't say that's anything near the state in which I'm right now. Everything around me seems turbulent in some way, especially loosing a job last week and all the courses I had to catch up with in addition.
The only good thing that actually came out of getting a new phobia (though my doctor has now seemed to cure me from this through hours of phone-therapy) was a closer contact with Xander.
Yesterday I was at a new class again, this was for people suffering with Obsessive-Compulsive disorders, it's called Clear-path - "Your way out of the maze", and it surprised me with showing progress among the group already on my first night there!
It was all very quiet, we were having a little break, drinking cheap tea and just chatting silently. Though for those too disordered to be able to keep a conversation these breaks were spent rocking back and forth in their chairs like cramped fetuses.
Among the silence a very pale person got up, his name-tag was a different colour from all us others, so I figured he was attempting the wrong course. That, though, didn't seem to affect him the least. The room hurried into empty silence and he was standing straight like a monument.
"I now realise that I've been captured within my own mind" he said, his eyes were shiny and his voice shook. "I -I now realise" he continued. "T-that, I'm not a jellyfish anymore".
"- I'm a dumpster with a radar".
Clearly puzzled I sat absent-mindedly through my next classes, I thought I'd already seen a lot of crazy things.
Though apparently,
I had not.
//Frannie
I can't say that's anything near the state in which I'm right now. Everything around me seems turbulent in some way, especially loosing a job last week and all the courses I had to catch up with in addition.
The only good thing that actually came out of getting a new phobia (though my doctor has now seemed to cure me from this through hours of phone-therapy) was a closer contact with Xander.
Yesterday I was at a new class again, this was for people suffering with Obsessive-Compulsive disorders, it's called Clear-path - "Your way out of the maze", and it surprised me with showing progress among the group already on my first night there!
It was all very quiet, we were having a little break, drinking cheap tea and just chatting silently. Though for those too disordered to be able to keep a conversation these breaks were spent rocking back and forth in their chairs like cramped fetuses.
Among the silence a very pale person got up, his name-tag was a different colour from all us others, so I figured he was attempting the wrong course. That, though, didn't seem to affect him the least. The room hurried into empty silence and he was standing straight like a monument.
"I now realise that I've been captured within my own mind" he said, his eyes were shiny and his voice shook. "I -I now realise" he continued. "T-that, I'm not a jellyfish anymore".
"- I'm a dumpster with a radar".
Clearly puzzled I sat absent-mindedly through my next classes, I thought I'd already seen a lot of crazy things.
Though apparently,
I had not.
//Frannie
Tuesday, August 01, 2006
Ambulophobia
I was lying in bed, today I had lots to do. First I was going to see the doctor again. Then I was going to go to a job interview for a job as a reseptionist at Winston Estates Ltd. Then I was going to the usual Anger Management Group, Monophobia Lessons, Alektorophobia Relief and then Russophobia - How to Avoid It. I was then around nine-ish going out to dinner with Xander.
Everything seemed to fill my mind so full, I couldn't think. The worst was what to wear, I mean, this was my first job interview in two years! I had been shopping yesterday, you know, the sophisticated - yet, elegant and educated, not preppy, just proper, but with a slight edge - outfit. And I didn't want to look repulsive either. After six hours I went to the cashier, handing in my two new outfits. Of course I needed one for the date with Xander as well.
But right now, as I was lying in bed looking at them hanging over a chair, I felt very unsatisfied. I couldn't wear that, I thought. Now wondering whatever I'd been thinking. Yes the blue dress for tonight was very pretty, but the cleavage was enormous! I would look like the biggest slag in West Newbury! Oh dear. The suit for the job interview was sober enough, and the shoes with the little heels made my legs just look a tad bit longer, they were perfect. But I hadn't prepared enough for that interview. The twentynine pages of notes I'd taken about Winston Estates Ltd. (including their entire website being memorized) just wouldn't do it, would it? After all, I had very little work experience, and I wouldn't manage to answer their questions. I'd probably have a seizure and die right there, in a leather chair, pouring starbucks all over my new suit.
ih, how horribly embarassing.
I had already overslept, I had to get up immediatly to get to the doctor in time before the interview, his office was way across town. Still I couldn't move. Everything inside me was shaking and squirming, I was completely immobilized.
I shook like a little leaf, sweating. Felt that suffocating emotion flow through me, quickly I reached for Phobias and where to Find them - by Claus T. Rophob and flipped through the pages quickly. I let my index-finger slowly flow down page after page ",,,Unable to walk, unable to walk" I repeated to myself.
"aha!" I let out, triumphantly "Ambulophobia, the absolute fear of walking" I read "Your fear of walking can result in the following symptoms:
breathlessness, dizziness, excessive sweating, nausea, dry mouth, feeling sick, shaking, heart palpitations, inability to speak or think clearly, a fear of becoming mad or losing control, a sensation of detachment from reality or a full blown anxiety attack." I continued. Let my book drop to my lap.
Fuck.
What kind of time is this to earn a new phobia?
I got a few calls during the day, from Winston Estates Ltd. saying they had been waiting for me and had now given the job to somebody else. Dr. Howard U. F. Eeling's secretary called, saying I missed my appointment and that they set a new one for next thursday at 8:30. Then my tutor from Russophobia - How to Avoid It just making sure I was okay and that I hadn't been eaten by a rabid Russian. Then Jenny Amkins called, saying she missed me when she was at Monophobia Lessons alone.
Finally, Xander called, saying he was bringing me chinese and a hot water bottle.
I then dragged myself along the floor to the computer with my arms and wrote this to you.
oh, the phone is ringing again.
//Frannie
Everything seemed to fill my mind so full, I couldn't think. The worst was what to wear, I mean, this was my first job interview in two years! I had been shopping yesterday, you know, the sophisticated - yet, elegant and educated, not preppy, just proper, but with a slight edge - outfit. And I didn't want to look repulsive either. After six hours I went to the cashier, handing in my two new outfits. Of course I needed one for the date with Xander as well.
But right now, as I was lying in bed looking at them hanging over a chair, I felt very unsatisfied. I couldn't wear that, I thought. Now wondering whatever I'd been thinking. Yes the blue dress for tonight was very pretty, but the cleavage was enormous! I would look like the biggest slag in West Newbury! Oh dear. The suit for the job interview was sober enough, and the shoes with the little heels made my legs just look a tad bit longer, they were perfect. But I hadn't prepared enough for that interview. The twentynine pages of notes I'd taken about Winston Estates Ltd. (including their entire website being memorized) just wouldn't do it, would it? After all, I had very little work experience, and I wouldn't manage to answer their questions. I'd probably have a seizure and die right there, in a leather chair, pouring starbucks all over my new suit.
ih, how horribly embarassing.
I had already overslept, I had to get up immediatly to get to the doctor in time before the interview, his office was way across town. Still I couldn't move. Everything inside me was shaking and squirming, I was completely immobilized.
I shook like a little leaf, sweating. Felt that suffocating emotion flow through me, quickly I reached for Phobias and where to Find them - by Claus T. Rophob and flipped through the pages quickly. I let my index-finger slowly flow down page after page ",,,Unable to walk, unable to walk" I repeated to myself.
"aha!" I let out, triumphantly "Ambulophobia, the absolute fear of walking" I read "Your fear of walking can result in the following symptoms:
breathlessness, dizziness, excessive sweating, nausea, dry mouth, feeling sick, shaking, heart palpitations, inability to speak or think clearly, a fear of becoming mad or losing control, a sensation of detachment from reality or a full blown anxiety attack." I continued. Let my book drop to my lap.
Fuck.
What kind of time is this to earn a new phobia?
I got a few calls during the day, from Winston Estates Ltd. saying they had been waiting for me and had now given the job to somebody else. Dr. Howard U. F. Eeling's secretary called, saying I missed my appointment and that they set a new one for next thursday at 8:30. Then my tutor from Russophobia - How to Avoid It just making sure I was okay and that I hadn't been eaten by a rabid Russian. Then Jenny Amkins called, saying she missed me when she was at Monophobia Lessons alone.
Finally, Xander called, saying he was bringing me chinese and a hot water bottle.
I then dragged myself along the floor to the computer with my arms and wrote this to you.
oh, the phone is ringing again.
//Frannie
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
