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!

Why Does Everything Have A Double Meaning Nowadays?

Ok, so you'll have to bear with me for this post; it's meant entirely innocently and not at all in the way most people between the (mental) ages of twelve and twenty will take it. It's something I've been pondering for a while and I will try my best, as ever, to translate the slightly addled thoughts of my brain into a coherent pile for you to pick through at your leisure.

Actually, that's a great tagline....

Right, back to task in hand. And hands, interestingly, are what this post is all about. Sort of. Let me see if I can explain this to you without putting my proverbial foot into my equally proverbial mouth.

Think about all the people you meet and interact with from day to day. For the purpose of this, I'm not talking about strangers you see on the train or people you pass in the street; I'm talking specifically about those who frequently have an impact on, and a specific role in, your life. Just think about them for a second.
Think about the people who are your "inner circle"; you probably see them every day and chat with them, or even talk about the more serious things in life, such as the future, or what's for dinner.
Think about the people you see fairly often, but with whom you don't quite share the same bond as those close friends and family; the work colleagues, the estranged housemate, the neighbour...

Now here's the bit where I'm going to be (deliberately or not) misunderstood.

Think about how many of these people you've never had any physical contact with. Just let that sink in for a minute, because I'm assuming you will be surprised at this. Think about how many of the people who play significant roles in your life you've never physically touched. Obviously I don't necessarily mean "touched" in the way in which it becomes heavily implicit of a much different relationship, I just mean think about how few people you've ever shaken hands with, or patted on the back, or even high-fived, who you would otherwise consider important, or at least significant, people in your life.

Even as a very tactile person (when appropriate) I was shocked to think about how many people who I would consider good friends with whom I have never been in physical contact. I know this is a strange thought, but there are people who I see almost daily but who I have never had the need to touch for any reason, and this is strange. It's like finding there's a whole experience that you haven't shared. Which is essentially what it is, in a weird way.

Anyway, yeah. That's my thought for today. As always, you can comment on this and tell me what you think (not that people do that very often), or tweet me (on Tweeter) @EmPernilla (not that people do that very often either). Sorry for the generic post ending, but there isn't any massive conclusion to this thought; it's just something I've been pondering for a while. Thanks for reading, much love xx

Things I Just Don't Understand

Today I am pondering the un-understandable. This won't be a particularly long post because I don't want to steal the limelight from Herries, a guy I know (who I would call a friend, but might not extend me the same privilege) who writes a blog specifically on his topic. (You can find it at http://thingsthatijustdontunderstand.blogspot.com )

I am pondering his for the simple reason that it is the thing I spend the longest time thinking about when I should be doing other things, such as working or driving. For me, the main thing I don't understand is Chemistry, but that's boring, so we'll look at the second biggest thing I don't understand,which is how one person can be in love with another if they do not love them back.

This may seem a strange thing for an eighteen year old to ponder; people will be thinking "she doesn't know what she's on about, she's only young", but I don't mean me. I don't understand how someone can be in a position in a relationship where they are totally devoted (Grease reference not intended) to another person, only to find out that the other person doesn't love them at all, and may even be in another relationship behind their back.

I should point out that I do not have a specific example in mind here, I am thinking more generally about the way society is going and (to be honest) several chick flick story lines. The fact that you may have assumed I was talking about a particular example says more about the way you think of me than anything else.

The other thing I don't understand in that situation is how someone can think they're in love when they aren't; the idea of love consists of two people who are meant to be together, traditionally they're considered two parts of the same soul, but that idea is a bit outdated. How can it be, then, that one person can feel something that they think is love, but is not reciprocated by the person they have these feelings towards? Especially if the person has never experienced actual love. How on Earth is the human brain capable of making this sort of thing up with no previous experience.
This really is what I don't understand.

And it's what makes me think that souls exist.

Anyway, that's it really :) There are so many other things I don't understand, but I'll leave that to Herries because I've broken my keyboard.

If you wanted something interesting to read while I don't write for you (wow, fabulous English there, brain!) please check out 28 Dates Later - it's written by a guy called Willard who is trying to do twenty eight dates from dating sites without getting himself killed or further wounded in the process. He sounds like he could get on well with Mackers, to be perfectly honest...
Other blogs you could check out are Herries', as mentioned above, Mr Robinson's (one of my German teachers last year, he does an amazing linguistics blog) and Alice's literary blog, which I've mentioned on many-an-occasion :)

Am I The Only One...?

OK, so Valentine's has been and gone (And I'd like to take this opportunity to apologise for Oliver once again) and I'm pondering its aftermath. For some, obviously, their relationships have been strengthened and for others it's a beautiful beginning. For me, I always find Valentine's Day a little bit creepy.

I mean, I got a card from someone, who I'm still not convinced isn't my parents. But if it's not my parents, then I find it a bit creepy, to be honest. I can't really think of anyone who knows my address that would send me a card, which means that someone else went out of their way to obtain my address and send me a card. Am I the only one who finds that a little bit odd if this person isn't willing to tell me who they actually are? I would much rather that whoever this person is (providing it's not a joke or something) just told me if they like me.

Anyway, I found this picture the other day, then lost it, then found it again. And I thought you lovely people would like to see it because it made me smile. This is how I feel about people when I do things for them. Happy Valentine's Day, person.

Don't forget you can follow me on Twitter (or Tweeter as I saw it called today) at @EmPernilla and I sometimes say things. It can be quite nice.

Thanks :)