Put Your Arms Around the World

In recent weeks I've been told off several times for "throwing [my]self at fully grown men." Despite this making me sound like some sort of seductive temptress who lures married men away from their innocent, loving wives, the reality is simpler, and less sordid. Far from being cast as the femme fatale in this little skit I am, in fact, being described as childish. But, never one to take criticism too seriously (haha, yeah right) I've not let this deter me, and I'm carrying on doing my thing. Haters gonna hate and all that.

Everyone who knows me is aware that I am, when appropriate, a very tactile person. In fact, I've even written about it on this blog. It's no big secret, I like hugs. It's how I make and greet friends, how I say goodbye; it's how I show thanks, or apologise; it's how I show sympathy or tell someone that I'm sorry they're having a bad time. I even hug people to put my magical healing properties into action.

At work over the summer I made many new friends and renewed some old acquaintances. I also found in Other Dan (Fleabag Monkeyboy) someone who is as tactile and friendly as I am. Which was amazing. And, after some discussion about friends and handling interpersonal relationships, hugging became part of our daily communication. (The same can be said for Dan, who also willingly jumped on the hug wagon - often taking it a little too far...)

Seeing old friends after a long time apart has also led to much encircling of people in arms recently, as I have returned to my "spiritual home" (intellectual home? part-time home? who knows?!) in Nottingham after more than a year away. Seeing Declan and Tom led to more grasping of fully grown men into welcoming and friendly death grips/embraces in the kitchen, the street, the cinema, and the bus stop. Even Lewis, who I saw in March on a fleeting trip round Braun Town, was (willingly) subjected to a cuddle in the middle of the Clive Granger Building. Not that I had much choice; his arms are so long he'd have hugged me from the end of the corridor...
Of course, seeing Emily, Chloe and Helen, my former TEAM from Abbey Road (or what normal people call "housemates"), again after so long also called for hugs! Especially after Chloe had actually worked out who I was. However, they are not grown men, so their mention in this blog is only honorary.

Last weekend I also did my share of hugging when I wasn't being the Super Scout Translator. I spent the weekend in Viernheim with my wonderful DPSG friends, and Paul and Nicole from Potters Bar. Seeing Gabi always calls for a hug; ditto Markus, who is about as full grown and male as it gets. Other friends, who I only got to know at the weekend, were not greeted with hugs, but were still cuddled close to my healing chest upon departure, meaning I left with more hugs than I arrived with! In fact, I wasn't even the cuddliest person on the weekend trip; the two young daughters of Paul and Nicole's hosts were far cuddlier than I during my time in Viernheim last week. We were, in the most literal sense, welcomed into the bosom of the family.

There are, naturally, many people I haven't had the chance to hug recently too. The most obvious to me are members of my family, including my grandparents (and Jean, of course. She counts), Auntie Margaret, and various aunts, uncles, cousins, and Victorian swimsuit models. There are lots of friends I haven't seen for a long time, too, including most of my old Owen's pals, who I seemed to always miss seeing over the summer. I'll hug them all soon. Then of course there are the people who are too far away, such as Daniel, Doreen, Sammi, Crowdy... The list is practically endless.

So in conclusion, a good, healthy hug is perfectly OK. There is nothing bad about expressing friendship through physical contact (except in a Scout leader/Explorer context, which is sad. But Teej is 18 now at least!), so the haters can shut up. Bad haters. Don't you have something important to be doing? Like researching Charles Taylor or something? Jeez.
Of course, respecting boundaries is important, and it's a pain when someone gets all up in your grill. But in general, throwing yourself at fully grown men is a perfectly acceptable pastime. And far better than throwing yourself at, for example, brick walls. Or tubas. Or poisonous snakes.

Anyway, Rachel wants dinner, so I'd better stop writing now!

I've Heard Of Looking On The Bright Side, But...

... This is quite ridiculous!

Hello internet folks and welcome to another thrilling instalment of my fantastic blog (which I just realised is basically a fanfiction of my life, but more true)!!! As many of you know, I have moved into Halls of Residence at my chosen university, Nottingham, today. Therefore, it will come as no surprise that I am currently pondering this.

My bedroom is orange. Very orange. Special orange. It's so orange that it's like living inside an orange. Or Ginger Chris, one of the two. I have therefore been unsuccessful with my colour choice for everything else, as my bedding is red and green tartan (with teddy bears) and my towels are coral, although I don't think I'll ever understand why that is the case.

Apart from that I have met some lovely new people, most of whom live in my building and none of whom I can remember the names of. Oh well, I will remember eventually. I have spent most of my time unpacking or at meetings, which seem to be the two most important things to be happening today.

So, to be honest, there's nothing to report as such, but I realised that I hadn't written anything for a while and should probably give you a metaphorical pulse, just so you know I'm still up and about. So, I think I'll call it a night now, goodnight internetty people!

P.S. For those of you who are interested,  Emmatt is still going strong despite the newly enforced Geographical schism. Whilst I have tried to dissuade Matt from wasting too much time and money coming to visit me, it would be nice to see him before December. However, that could mean me going to visit him when I am down seeing the family, rather than him spending all his life money coming to Nottingham by some awful bus/coach/whatever.

My Meandering Brain

OK, this is hardly surprising for regular readers of my blog, but that last post seemed to go off at somewhat of a tangent. The post was meant to be about how everything is slowly sorting itself out in my life, not about how my life is complete now that I have a boyfriend and a job.

I'd like to take this opportunity to say that just because I am now receiving a slightly higher income than 0p per month this does not mean that my life is now perfect. Furthermore, I am not suggesting that I or anyone else needs a job to be happy. Some work can make you happy and part of what makes my job so enjoyable is the people there (hence the huge tangent.) All I meant was that it is one less thing for me to worry about now and therefore one less thing to write about.

Likewise the boyfriend situation. Miss MacNeill and Sophie R,  if you are reading this I am not saying that a significant other is important for making one feel happy, merely that it's one less thing that I can moan about to all and sundry.

My real point was meant to be that things are finally picking up in my life where they have previously been points for me to complain incessantly about and that this might, in the long run, hail the end of my wonderful (under appreciated) blog. Even my weird and wonderful Uni crisis has sorted itself out; I am now going to study German at Nottingham, not what I originally planned, but I think it's the right choice. As My Grandad and Dad often say, everything happens for a reason.

Anyway, as you can see, this post is more accurate and on topic than my last post. Why does this always happen? And so, dear readers, I must be going now as the Land of Nod awaits. Much love and that x

The End of "Stuff..."?

Hello Internet folks, I am currently pondering a dilemma and I wonder if you can help. (Although, given your usual level of response to this blog, I am not holding out much hope!) It's not a big problem to be honest, quite the opposite, but it may mean the end of this blog forever...

You see, my problem is that I don't actually seem to have any problems right now.

I have a job which, although it's not the best job in the world, I'm earning money from. And sure, it's kind of boring and the pay's not as good as it could be, but any job which you can do with minimal qualifications will be boring and, given that I'm not entitled to minimum wage, I actually earn more than I would in a bar or in most shops. Plus everyone is really nice which, for me, is more important than the work itself. And it's not like I'm even just saying that; literally everyone is nice.

There's Graham, who works for "the agency" (dun dun duuuun) but is planing on going full time. Graham has been really nice to me since I started working there, but his jokes are awful! Then there's Dannii, who only works a couple of days a week, but is absolutely lovely and I always spend too much time talking to her because she's so interesting. Also prescanning is Caroline who, although she seems lovely, I haven't had much chance to get to know, but she's always so happy and smiley. In my recent job development, I've been working more closely with Mark (who wants to join the army) and Richard (who wants to be a Social Worker/Social Work teacher, but works doing whatever he can whilst he's waiting to get the job he wants.) Mark and Richard are both great guys, although they do sometimes talk a little loudly, especially about things which should probably not be repeated here. And the army. Then, of course, there's Chloe and Anya. When the Boss isn't around, Chloe and Anya effectively run the joint; they are in charge of all the admin, all the orders, paying everyone, running meetings and making sure everyone knows what's going on. They're amazing at what they do, even if I annoy them sometimes. Then there's Matt...

I think Matt deserves a paragraph to himself. As most of you will have seen, Matt is my fantastic new boyfriend. Yes, we are that nauseating couple. No, we don't mind. Yes, we know how awful we are, but it's OK because Becky, who is terrified of inter-personal relationships says we're not just that couple, because we're also funny together. Errr, yay?

So, as you see, there is nothing for me to write whiny blog posts about any more. Does this mean the end of "Stuff I Ponder"??!?!?!?!?!

Well, in a word, "no." Weird and wonderful stuff is still guaranteed to happen in my life; I'm still doing the scouting (we've got the Beach Weekend this weekend) and I'm about to head off to Uni, which should provide many an interesting story. Plus, with a boyfriend in tow, there'll even be someone to share it with!

P.S. Good luck Mark for today and tomorrow!