Things I Didn't Learn In 2016

It's that time of year again when I usually write a list of comical things I have learnt in the past twelve months. Sadly, as we all know, 2016 was not the happiest of years, either nationally, internationally, or for me personally. So I'm afraid that, whilst I learnt a lot last year, writing it all into a blog post would not be very funny, or interesting to read.
My original plan was to write a vitriolic and aggressively ironic list of "things I didn't learn in 2016", to include things like "democracy works" and "people with beards have problems", but I thought that was still rather depressing, and unhealthy way to spend my time. Instead, I am going to summarise my year in songs. Some of them are great, some of them are terrible, and at least one is the Vengaboys. I'm not sorry. I'm also sparing no apology for the fact that this is another blog post about music; music is a massive part of my life, and I wouldn't be who I am without it. Equally, I measure a lot of things by songs, so I feel it's fitting.

January: Where Were You Last Night - The Travelling Wilburys
Apart from being a fantastic song, from a band I may have been a little obsessed with last year, it includes the lines "Where were you last year? You sure as hell weren't here". I find this highly appropriate for the entire of 2016, as I was on my year abroad. Arriving back in Braunschweig after spending Christmas at home was a strange feeling, but I was glad to be back. Equally, living in Braunschweig for less than a year in total meant that I only experienced each month once. Therefore, this song seemed incredibly fitting to describe a new year in a different country.

February: We Like To Party - The Vengaboys
I suppose I should finally explain this. In February 2016, Helen and I went to visit Jordan in Dusseldorf on Karneval weekend. This was accidental great planning on our part, and we had a fantastic weekend celebrating and watching National Treasure. But, of course, this was us, so it wasn't exactly a standard Karneval weekend. We spent most of the weekend in Jordan's room playing The Vengaboys at Helen every time she walked into the room. Naturally, we went out to party in the streets with everyone else (because "we like to party"), but it was mostly an excuse to see each other.

March: Poing - Rotterdam Termination Source
This is the most ridiculous song I was introduced to last year. I have included it for March, even though I first heard in June or July, because Daniel, James and I went to the Netherlands. After a few days in Amsterdam, Daniel left us to go home to his family for Easter, and James and I travelled on to Rotterdam. We met some lovely, but mad, people in our hostel and explored the city to the best of our ability. It was a fantastic weekend, and it was fun to spend time with people I like when we weren't fighting over whose turn it was to carry the shopping, or what colour trousers Gillian should wear.

April: The Battle Hymn of the Republic - William Steffe
"He jumped without a parachute from forty thousand feet, And he ain't gonna jump no mo-oo-oore." Or something like that. There needed to be a hymn in this list somewhere, because I have relied heavily on my relationship with God over the last twelve months; praying for everything from my family to the future of the world. I flew back to the UK for two different Queen's Scout Award ceremonies last April, including the parade for St George's Day at Windsor Castle, where we sang a heavily altered version of this. It was fantastic, but a massive disappointment as far as meeting famous people was concerned. Some old lady had her birthday that weekend, so lots of people were busy.

May: Vienna - Ultravox
Guess where I went in May?
Indeed, I did go to Austria with Jordan, and we did stay in the capital city. We went on the fantastically named Christi Himmelfahrt, which is another Bank Holiday that we don't have in England. Sadly, Helen got glandular fever/mono (HAHAHAHAHAAAAA) and couldn't come (sad). But Jordan and I still went and hung out with Emily who came back to Vienna to see us for the weekend. Spending time with people who have no expectations except having a bit of a moan about the state of the world and the poor module choices for fourth year was really enjoyable. And we didn't sing the Vengaboys for the entire weekend either, so not having Helen there was just the gift that kept on giving...

June: Just - Radiohead
Ugh.
I couldn't write a list of music that influenced 2016 without mentioning Radiohead, sadly. They had a new album out in the summer last year, which I am informed by a Radiohead fan (such things exist) is really good. Personally, I thought it sounded like sentimental teen rubbish. So instead of making anyone suffer through it, I am putting Just in this list, as it is half decent, and doesn't fade into the background of "meh" that tends to encompass Radiohead for me.
I apologise to anyone who actually likes Radiohead, but I am almost entirely indifferent to their music.

July: Over London Skies - Orchestra
"Another Goodbye Airport" faced me in July, as I moved out of my flat in Braunschweig for good, and left behind a life I truly miss. For a while, I thought my sentimentality was for a version of myself that couldn't be replicated, and friends I didn't want to lose. Six months down the line, I realise that neither of these is quite true. Life in Braunschweig allowed me to be a proper grown up for the first time, and I really did make some fantastic friends that I wish I could see more often. But I really do miss Germany. There are just some intrinsically German things that I wish I could get back to. I'll go back one day.

August: Ms Jackson - Outkast
Blame Matt. He is to blame for this terrible, terrible choice. And for the singing you've all had to endure since I came back to uni.
This song. Right. This song.
It's so funny if you sing the lyrics in the cartoon to the tune of the song. And if I were even a little bit sorry for singing "I AM FOUR EEEEELS" at all hours of the day to poor, unsuspecting Declan, then I would "apologise a trillion times" to my housemates, my neighbours, Matt and everyone else who's been subjected to this.

September: The Boys Are Back In Town -Thin Lizzy
OK, so number one, this is an amazing song. Anyone who tells you otherwise probably likes Radiohead. Lame.
Secondly, I came back to uni in November. It was great to see all my wonderful friends again, as well as Ute the Tutor and the other remaining German Department staff (of which there were about three.) I'd love to say that I felt at home coming back to Nottingham, as if I actually belong here. That would be a total lie. However, I do feel like this is my place. Nobody can make me feel like I don't belong here. I think it's just because I know the place so well. I have a right to be here.
Plus everyone got back from their years abroad at the same time. So, you know, "The boys are back in town".

October: California Man - Roy Wood
In October I met Roy Wood. I wrote about it on this blog, and it was really the highlight of the month. He was a very pleasant man, and he signed a copy of our painting. I wasn't sure which song to include from Roy, so I've included this one for two reasons. One: I am reclaiming it. Two: It's the opening to the set, as you can see in the video, and it really psyches the audience up for the rest of the show. Even though Roy himself is actually from Birmingham, you really feel like he means it when he sings. And sometimes you just have to think "I don't care if my legs start aching" and do it anyway! Plus, you know, amazing saxophones.

November: Heaven Can Wait - Meat Loaf

Same.

Matt is to blame for this one as well, I'm afraid. In November, Matt found out that the Bat Out Of Hell musical is on stage in the West End next year, so we're going to see it because I love Meat Loaf and Matt is the best boyfriend ever. The reason I have chosen this, rather than something like Paradise By The Dashboard Light or something is because November was quite difficult for me, and I listened to this song a lot. But I also went to Oxford and saw Alice and Ben and David, and that was awesome, because they are all clearly so happy, and that's such a lovely thing to see.
Another reason is that I look like (long-haired) Meat Loaf when I wear a suit sometimes. It's like we're soulmates. Except that he's American.

December: Rabbit - Chas N Dave
In December I saw Roy Wood in concert again. To be honest, it was a little boring, seeing the same set twice in two months. I went with Jordan, and I think both of us were more excited to see Chas and Dave, who were also performing live. Unfortunately, Chas and Dave only performed about three songs, which was not enough for us. But we still had a lovely time, and visited the Birmingham Christmas Market at the same time.

So that's it I guess. Obviously, there are more songs I could mention, but I don't want to.
Happy "new" year. I hope this has been more interesting that me grumbling on...

If Songs Were Friends

Or if friends were songs...

I like music and friends. The two don't usually like each other (Daniel is still getting over "One 4 Xmas" by HotPantz), but I like both. Therefore I'm spending my time linking my friends with certain songs. See the list below...

Alice has to be represented by something we sang in the choir together. Heaven knows what, because we sang so much! I think I can narrow it down to a song from the Albert Hall concert, but that still leaves five choices. Or does it? Well, considering that the other two options are the School Song and Gold, yes. Yes it does. So it has to be the iconic Werner Song, Mercy Street. Nice one, Simon ;)

Harri, on the other hand, has never been quite as musical as some of my other friends. Apart from stating a total dislike for ELO (whose most popular song they once retitled "The day my cat killed your grandma with a toaster"), nothing really stands out about Harri's music tastes in my memory. Except that one Chemistry lesson, where we sang "GOLD! Always recycle your knees" to poor Mr Jays... But for a period in the lower school, they did like the Jam, so I suppose I always associate Harri with Eton Rifles.

Elizbeth is a difficult one. I have very fond memories of her shouting at her iPod "But WHERE did you end up Amy?! Oh yes, that's right - REHAB!" Then of course, there's the possibility of Grey Squirrel, or Auntie Monica. And I have great memories of singing Mr Brightside with her at the top of my lungs at Tolmers. But my strongest musical link to Liz is probably Hot and Cold, which must be sung in the most awful Scottish accent achievable.

Helen deserves something glorious. But Helen and Jordan together can only be one thing. And I am truly sorry to everyone who clicks on this link. Except Helen. I don't really care that Helen had to suffer that ;)
But Helen and Jordan separately are difficult to place. I think I'm going to have to go a bit hipster (you won't have heard of it) and say Lion's Heart for Helen, because of the strong independent woman bit, and the Gryffindor link. For Jordan, I think it has to be something cheesy, but also dreadful. Maybe this Ukranian Eurovision entry from a few years ago?

I think for Daniel there is only one choice. When he found out that I know Ein Lied Für Dich, he basically had a heart attack. Apparently Brits shouldn't know German music. Unless it's weird comedy songs about Käsebrot.

For James and Lewis there's not much else I can say about this tune. (Although, as the Yanks say, "Peterhooooouse".) A close second for Lewis was Man! I Feel Like a Woman. Not because he is effeminate, but because of an occurrence at the Wolfenbüttel Christmas Market.

Matt and I have never had a "couples song"; I don't even know if that's something people in the real world do. He suggested Rick Astley when I asked him, but I actually think The Proclaimers is a better fit, given Graham fitting our names into it at Phatpocket, various car rides and the infamous QSA hike. We didn't quite walk five hundred miles, but it certainly felt like it.

Declan was a tough decision. It had to be something from the musical The Producers, but the obvious choice seems a bit too obvious. The problem is, I really associate Springtime for Hitler with Emily (or maybe Helen), so maybe there is only one choice. He told me he didn't want it to be Poing.

There are, of course, lots of people missing from this list, including a whole load of people I always think of when I hear Dynamite, or The Final Countdown, or any other number of Owen's-related songs. And for some people it's really hard to pin it down to the most important song. Or even any song at all
 in some cases.

So whatever, that's it from me. again. I'll probably be in touch at some point, either by blog or in actual people. Thanks for reading again. Much love xx

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!

Leaving Europe

(In which Brexit will not be discussed.)

Stevan: I think I understand why you don't want to leave Germany.
Me: Go on...
Stevan: Well, if we both know then there's no point in prattling on about it, is there?

So guess what I'm going to prattle on about?
But there's more to my pondering than just the obvious. Of course, like any person who lives somewhere for more than a few months, I've built myself a life here in Braunschweig, and leaving this, my first totally independent year, is not going to be easy. But I've known that for months. It's not just the fact that I'll be going home to a much more sheltered life that's getting me down.

In the last year I have, in one way or another, dealt with almost every serious life event. This year hasn't been simple by any means. I've come into contact with moving, making new friends, missing old friends, long distance relationships, language barriers, cultural barriers, starting a new job, moving away form friends, losing weight, commuting, fixing a bike, learning to bake for vegans, University Challenge, Americans, illness in the family, personal illness, inability to travel due to illness*, flight delays, dream jobs*, retirement*, graduation*, realising your dream job isn't*, operations*, important birthdays, writing a book, break ups*, Austria, totally seeing Jeff Lynne in concert like legit for real oh my gosh it was amazing, homesickness*, international travel, drunk people (Drunk Daniel is Best Daniel), enormous upheaval back home in the shape of most of my favourite lecturers leaving/being unceremoniously chucked from their jobs, missed dreams*, a pregnancy scare*, promotions*, marriage*, lost passport*, socks and sandals**, driving a Trabant, quitting smoking*, failing to quit smoking*, alcoholism*, Christmas dinner, growing plants*, insomnia, Buddhist monks, enormous political upheaval, Donald Trump*, musicals about being saved from a curse by leg warmers, Americans in vests*, stag/hen dos*, religion, Creepy Sauna Guy*, gender reassignment surgery*, beard(s)*, and really bad cups of tea.

In fact, the only life events I haven't really dealt with this year are births and deaths (thank goodness!)
So you see, a lot has happened in the last twelve months, and Braunschweig means a lot more to me than just friends and familiarity!

If you see anything I've missed in this list, I'd be very pleased to add it!

*not mine
**reeeeeeaaaaaaally not mine!!!!

Full and Brutally Honest Review of the NUA 2014

When I left home on Friday, my housemate said, “Have a good time. And I hope that things don’t get too bad when you inevitably end up in A and E.” Fortunately, NUSCR’s trip to NUA 2014 stopped just short of a trip to the hospital…

After several hours of train travel, highly scorched burgers and some overpriced pints, Tall Chris, Short Chris, Esther Chris and myself (Chris) followed a couple of total strangers for half an hour, arriving at a church hall; picked for the weekend’s accommodation for the sole reason of being totally inappropriate. Having been reunited with some old friends, and immediately capturing some new ones, NUSCR asked the fundamental question: “Where’s the booze?”, embarking on what turned into an hour-long beer quest which showed us just how far from any form of civilisation we were. Fortunately, New Friend Hannah took this welcome opportunity to reveal her hidden superpower to locate Co-Ops. (Unfortunately, said “convenience” store had just shut. Points for trying, though!) Friday night was otherwise quite a standard affair, involving much drinking, chatting, and Plain Hunt on Beer before falling asleep on a floor which may have been even less comfortable than anything I have ever slept on before, including Ross.

Saturday started early, with an English breakfast and copious amounts of throat-meltingly strong tea. We arrived at our first tower in St Nicholas in Kenilworth (after what seemed like a year on the bus) where, after a short wait, we successfully rang some rounds. Our next stop was at All Saints in "the Bell Ringing capital of Europe" (don't ask me, ask Helen!) Leamington Spa. After yet another bus ride, we finally arrived in Warwick itself and rang briefly at St Mary's, before embarking on yet another epic bus ride, to Stratford-upon-Avon, where we met Lucy and IPM Dan in (where else?) a pub, before "we" (Chris and our new friends from BUSCR) rang at Holy Trinity Church, described as the best tower of Saturday. The rest of stayed at the pub, and so missed out on that one, what a shame! The final tower of the day was Lillington (where I actually did some ringing!!!) and another tedious bus journey brought us back to base just about, but not quite, in time for dinner. 

And a ceilidh. 

Why didn't I heed the ceilidh warnings? 

We (including Becks and Phill, who deigned us with their presence just after dinner) spent the evening flinging each other around the room as hard and as fast as we could. I swear, I have never had so much fun being disregarded by multiple men. The funniest bit for the spectators was probably Short Chris throwing Becks to the ground and then stomping on her hair, which he maintains was an accident. Yeah, right. As for the dancing, whilst I thoroughly enjoyed Baskets and Strip the Willow (look it up, kids), I actually much preferred the dances where my feet were primarily on the ground; bouncing around the hall on the arm of one Chris or another was enough for me, thank you! This merriment finished at around eleven, having started relatively soon after dinner, giving us many an hour of merriment. Naturally, after this, everyone just stayed up chatting for as long as we could hold our own drinks and ended up in bed shortly before sunrise on Sunday.

Sunday morning was a little more relaxed, as the first church of the day was very nearby at All Saints in Allesley, where a nice man with the key to the bell tower recommended that we try a small local tower with a 300-weight six, which was not on our route. So, naturally, we went off-tour to check it out. Right decision. This tower was described by several people as the best of the weekend, missed by everyone except NUSCR and SUGCR. Personally, I was in no position to comment, having only rung three towers that weekend, and only one other tower ever. How do you even decide what a nice tower is? Unless, like Short Chris at St Nicholas, you have real trouble keeping it up. Most of NUSCR somehow managed to miss the next tower in Stoke, when Phill accidentally drove into Debenham's*, and turned up to the pub early enough for a second breakfast. After a very close call involving a BUSCR member who had to have her legs over her head for quite a while (and not in a good way) in the pub at lunchtime we finally turned up at Coventry Cathedral Tower to ring the final bells of the tour. The Coventry experience also included the opportunity to watch the bells from above, as well as a tour of the amazing bombed-out ruins of the old cathedral, opportunities taken up by many.

NUSCR’s tour ended with five consecutive train journeys to different places, all aiming to get us home to showers (not necessarily our own) and bed. Having essentially been tricked into coming on the NUA, I'm incredibly glad that I was; it has been one of the best experiences of my life, with some of the nicest people I have ever met (and Chris). Having joined Bell Ringing Society on a whim, I have come to the conclusion that it's quite possibly one of the best decisions I have ever made, even if more time is spent at the pub than in the tower(!)

*Phill's driving was not (as Short Chris expected) sufficiently bad enough that we actually ended up parked in the lingerie department of Debenham's, more that we turned into an accidental multi-storey and were too lazy to drive out again.

House Hunting

It's now come to that time in my life where I've had to start (and indeed conclude) a hunt for my first privately-rented property (how scary!) So, this led to me pondering the housing market and, well, just everything really.

For anyone who's interested, I am sharing as part of a group of five girls who will all be living in a two-storey house in Beeston; near the university. The property has five bedrooms, three bathroom-esque rooms (only one actually has a bath in it, the others have showers), one lounge, one dining room, one kitchen, a scrubby garden with a "bald patch" (Helen) and a "Bedroom", in which the bedroom furniture doesn't even fit. Needless to say, this will be used as an occasional overnight room for people staying (willingly or because they're unable to use their own legs...) over and (probably) a storage room.

Basically, this whole process has made me feel very grown up; primarily because I have been doing most of the dealings with the estate agents (as the one who was willing to make the phone calls on Monday) and this gives me a terrifying level of responsibility, but also because I now realise that next year I will be responsible for myself; all the payments of bills and rent will be down to me (probably not financially, but I will be in charge of organising it) and if I mess up, it will be my own fault, with no way to blame anyone else.

That's scary.

In addition, I have decided I would be a terrible estate agent. I would feel incredibly guilty for the amount of... not quite lying, but... 'smoothing over' I would need to do to sell certain properties. Did you know there's no patron saint of estate agents*? Somehow it doesn't really surprise me. (At a stretch you could say it was St Lucy, patron saint of salespeople, but I'm not sure that's the entire of the estate agent's job.)

To be honest, my main concern for next year is getting on with my housemates, who are all lovely girls. This may seem a silly thing to say, if they're all lovely girls, why would that be a concern?
Basically, because they're so lovely I'm worried that I will be the one who will annoy everyone to the point where we have an argument and they are no longer friends with me. Apparently there's meant to be someone like that in every house. I really hope we're the exception...

If it doesn't work out, I could always live in a yurt.

Emmatt update: I realised I didn't do one of these last time, so in case anyone's interested, I thought I'd let you know. Matt and I sent a lot of time together over the Christmas holidays, even though we both had a lot to do. We're both very happy that we've now (more or less) reached five months together and are making plans to see each other in a few weeks, just after my Birthday. I also hope during this time to introduce him to some of my other friends (the girls I'm living with, plus other people in my course), although he doesn't know this yet. Sorry Matt.

*P.S. Father mine, the patron saint of Bankers is St Matthew

Explorers

Today I find myself with a free half an hour and very little to do. Over lunchtime I have been pondering the Explorer Meeting that Jess and I have planned for tomorrow night. It's epic. So I think I'll write about it.

The evening is called "Confessions" and is a partially group-organised, partially surprise meeting based on embarrassment and getting to know each other a little better. So far the planning is going quite well, but my co-conspirator, Jess, has GCSE exams this week, which she has to take into account in her role in the planning. Fortunately, I have been able to take over from most of the planning she is unable to now do and she is preparing another activity instead, which will take less time (hopefully).

So, to get you started, I have posted a couple of embarrassing pictures which come up when you search "Cuffley Explorer Scout Unit" in Google Images. The above one is Mr Robbie Williams himself (Teej) with Broke The Goat, on one of the rides at Southend. The one opposite is some crazy fool, who thought it would be a good idea to dance like a teapot in a kebab shop. Honestly...

Finally, this is a picture from the Southend trip of another one of our Explorers riding a pink elephant whilst carrying Broke. (You can't say we're not diverse in our madness!)

A Couple Of Links For You

As I always do, I am going to put up a couple of plugs for people I like (or at least know) who are getting Internet Savvy.

Emily's mad blog has now moved URL address from Famous Last Words ( http://shirleynomates.blogspot.co.uk/ ) to : http://mirrorscantseeyourheart.blogspot.co.uk/
It is still amazing :) (I wonder where she gets her inspiration...)


Alice's literary blog is still going strong at: http://mingledyarns.wordpress.com/
It's fabulous. If you type mingled yarns into Google, it's the second one :)


Seb and Aidan's podcast - for anyone who has yet to discover this, it's a podcast dedicated to sharing unsigned bands with the world. It's quite nice and I know lots of my friends listen to it because it's very funny. This is a link to the first one, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xlP8RdmB59U but I think there are about nine now?

Herries's fantastically daft/philosophical blog does actually get its own post on here in a few months' time (yeah, I know, Emma from the future! Woooooooooo scary!!!) but for anyone who is reading this through from the beginning (you strange, sad little people) you can find it here: http://thingsthatijustdontunderstand.blogspot.co.uk/

Thanks guys, much love

xx

Scout Group Family BBQ

Howdy folks! As a true Brit, I was hoping to open this blog post with a polite comment about the weather, but it's so changeable at the moment that whatever I write will be wrong. Plus, I'm not sure what I would write anyway, as it is both sunny and cold at the moment. Anyhoo. Today I am pondering the Group Family BBQ on Sunday; it should be fun, if the weather holds up (or at least, doesn't chuck down).

There are several reasons for me pondering this topic. The first is the number of people who appear to be going without their families. Whilst I understand that some people's families are embarrassing (mine more than most), that's no reason not to drag them along to a Scout event. And if you've got a big family, even better! There'll be more people to laugh at/with. It is a FAMILY event and thus you should at least ASK your family if they want to come! (If your brother is hot, you should make him come. Of course, I'm not thinking about anyone in particular... *cough* Pip *cough*)

Secondly, I'm hoping that Gabi and Markus, our German friends (from Germany, because they're just totally awesome like that) will still be in the country on Sunday (I can't remember when they go home) so as to part-take in our "fantastic" British Grillfest. Except that it will be nowhere near as good as a Grillfest, and we're probably more likely to call it a "sausagefest", which gives entirely the wrong idea.

Finally, the Bro Code. I'm not sure how many of my one reader actually know about the Bro Code, so I'll explain. TBC is based on a legen(wait for it)dary tome which is frequently cited in the American Sitcom "How I Met Your Mother" and is (by all accounts except his own) written by Barney Stintson, an infamous (fictional) playboy. I recently bought a copy of this book for myself and one for a friend for her Birthday, and we and the rest of the 'Splorers are planning to live by it for as long as we possibly can (we're all terrible at it, none of us can drive and we all get topless in front of each other sometimes, but only when camping). But we will be upholding this code at Sunday's festivities.

So, that's why I'm excited/pondering the Scout BBQ on Sunday. Not particularly interesting I know, but hey - you didn't have to read it :)

As always, you can follow me on Twitter at @EmPernilla for more random wafflings.
Much love xx

Cubs - An Advancement Of Ponderances

OK, I have thought about this long and hard (yes, I am aware how funny you find the words "long" and "hard" to be when put together. Grow up) about the whole Cub Leader thing and I think I might like to be a Cub leader actually. Think about it; you get super powers (see previous post about Cub Camp), and Cubs always do exactly what you ask them to (unlike Scouts, who are total beaches once they reach about twelve). Plus, you get to do all sorts of awesome crafts and nature walks and schtuff which, if you tried that with Scouts, they'd get bored. But you can still do awesome games and activities such as Wide Games, because they're old enough to understand and appreciate them.

My other plan is to help with Explorers, because (let's face it) Explorers are the reason for living; they're practically adults when they get to that age and they've (normally) got over the argumentative, rude streak (well, OK, no. But they've learnt to control it by that time). Plus, you can be so much more adventurous with their activities, such as Gilwell24 and random nights away, which is awesome. Plus, you can treat them like people and become almost like proper friends with them.

And by that time I'll be living with the rest of the current Splorers, minus Andrew probably - he's not overly liberal - and I'll need something fun to do with them. Somehow I highly doubt that I will ever get married in this hypothetical world; who'd want to live with me when I spend all my free time Scouting, apart from other Scoutists? Unless I marry another Scout/Cub/Splorer/Beaver Leader, which would solve a lot of problems, as I hope that, if I get married, I can have children and raise them in the Scouting religion (I'm pretty sure this is what happened in my family; my parents married and "what happened in the tent (i.e. me) stayed in the tent"). This is a lovely image.

Plus, you know, I don't have a career plan at the moment, so doing something like this will make me feel good. Volunteering makes everyone happy, right?

Splorers: My Real Homies (Or Something)

'Allo Darleeengs. Today I am pondering the Splorers, who are perhaps my homies, besties, and the coolest people I know who I don't share the Common Room, or the lounge room at Church, with (Sorry guys, I have to put in that disclaimer).

Currently, our Explorer Scout Unit consists of:

• Andrew Wilhem Nigel Marshall
• Elizabeth Gillaaay Concertina Sartori
• Emily Rupertia Alfonz Young
• Me
• Jacktopher Arnold Maria Coleman
• Jessiqua Juan Wendy Kraushaar
• Joshua Irene Callum Roper
• MatThew Icecreamcone Raccoon Weller
• Oliver Nancy Margaret Brossi
• Philip Pippin Gorgeous Collis
• Phoebekins Noel Philanthropist Neal
• Rebecca Jayne (BJ) Tyrannosaurus (BT) Harvey
• Rossington Goatbreaker Toasteroven Staunton III
• Samantha Post Office Theodora Watts

And the Leaders consist of:

• Beardy McBeardson Bedwell
• Special Steve Bicyclist Motorcop Rowsell
• Pete von Petey Pete Pete Slugdance Cracknell
• Lovely Likeable Leedley Leeeeeee 
• Diane and Pam, The Logical errr, Man(?)

They are beautiful, and I very love them much. They should all be awarded with awards and shiz for recognition. And we recently got a reverse TARDIS. It says "Blue Box" on it and it's bigger on the outside. We're gonna put mirrors on the ceiling for Becky and Ross...

The Warped Minds of Children

Hello. These last few days I have been holding a competition of "Who can come up with the most inventive thing to do to a traitor?" with the Splorer girls (minus Sammi who doesn't know the person), therefore I have been pondering this. This is the list so far (Any personal details have been omitted, making them a little less funny, but I can't be seen to be offensive or bullying):

1. Pull out his insides and stuff him with love and rainbows, making a giant teddy (Phoebe)
2. Insert a Bible somewhere... private. (Emily)
3. Shove a Crout inside him (confusingly) (Emily)
4. Shave him. Then he'd completely malfunction. (Phoebe)
5. Stand him up then knock him down. (Phoebe)
6. Break him in half (Phoebe)
7. Drown him in a barrel of water and ferment him, then he'd be beer (Phoebe)
8. Roll him out, cut him out, flavour, bake in the oven at 210 degrees for 20 minutes, then he would be a Ginger Bread. (Phoebe)
9. Mush him up and put him in a bakery oven, then he'd be bread (Emily, somewhat uninventively)
10. Scrub him into your hair, then he'd be shampoo (Emily)
11. Crumble him over apple crumble. (Emily/Miranda)
12. Hollow him out and use him as a canoe (Liz)
13. Fill him with jelly (Liz)
14. Tap him with a wooden mallet (Becky)
15. Lock him in a room with me and Liz. Let's watch what happens (Jess, somewhat rudely)

As you can see, it is quite disturbing how strange my wonderful friends are. Add to this the fact that Maria said she liked rearranging faces (we knew she was a good serial killer) and it is quite horrifying how my friends think. I'd better start keeping a closer eye on them, in case they decide to leave me in a hole to die or something. It has been threatened on many an occasion...

Hiking

Welcome Back,

Today I got bored of revising and I have reverted to pondering Hiking. Seriously, it's fun, but is there really a point to it? Yesterday I arranged a hike, just because I could, starting and ending at the Scout Hut. We walked, erm, not very far. When we stopped for lunch at... somewhere, I got the map out to discuss the next part of the route. The response from one member of the group surprised me. She said "which way is quickest?", a fair enough question had we been hiking somewhere for a reason, but seeing as how we were hiking in a circle because we wanted to it seemed a totally pointless comment. We ended up walking a completely pointless route, which turned out to be shorter than we thought anyway.

And I know walking (especially whilst laughing that hard) is really healthy and all that, but seriously, we ate so many sweets it must've cancelled out anyway. So basically, what we did is walk in a circle and hide in some guy's rape seed for no real reason, apart from to chat and because Cuffley, Northaw (and the M25) is such a beautiful place...

Although we did have some fun: Sammi broke the countryside by leaning on it; Jack hid in a river while Jess jumped over him; Emily... Well, Emily was just Emily. Then it rained, and we hid under a tree. That was quite fun, until it started hailing. Oh yeah, and we stood on a bridge over the M25 and waved at the traffic; several lorry driver beeped at us. I felt so loved :') So perhaps I've answered my own question here somewhat; maybe we do just hike for the hell of it. Like camping - there's no real reason for camping but we still do it, because it's fun. And we get to set stuff on fire. And buy copies of "Practical Pigs". And laugh at each other.

So, to continue the laughing-at-each-other-ness, here is a picture of Jess the Ninja Monkey.