Evening all.
Being the nostalgic sausage that I am, I decided to look back on the things I learnt in 2015. And they're pretty much still useful a year on. With the odd adjustment here and there, they could easily be life tips. If what you wanted to do with your life was not annoy your housemates and avoid becoming Catholic.
But I've been pondering. Many of you will have seen my last post, claiming that I didn't learn much in 2016, and it's sadly true that there were no great revelations regarding pumpkin vampires, or locking the bathroom door. But did I learn anything in 2016 that contradicts what I learnt in 2015? Time to find out:
According to my flatmate, food (specifically a kebab) is better than sex
Said flatmate still believes this, as far as I know. The kebabs really weren't that good.
It's not the ringers that smell of the tower, it's the tower that smells of the ringersStill true.
Vegan cooking can be super easyThe key word here is can. It can also reeeeeaaaally easily go super wrong....
Lock the door when you're in the bath
Since learning this, nobody has walked in on me in the bathroom.
(I may have forgotten this once or twice, but Daniel is a gentleman, and still nobody has walked in on me in the bathroom...)
Tea and sympathy get you a long way
Just make sure it's the way you want to go.
If you reach the age of 30 in north Germany without getting married, you have to sweep the steps of the Rathaus until a young lady comes along and kisses you
Well, we're going to find out this year, when Daniel turns 30...
"If it ends in 'e' it's probably 'die'" is a lie.
Still a lie.
If you lose one of your Beavers, they are probably in the tent
Still true.
You will get on better with your friends during a four day hike than you will ever in your life again. Ever.
I still get on better with these friends than I ever did previously. I think that working together like that makes it really easy to understand people. And everything we've done since then has been easy in comparison. So, I guess we're just stuck with each other for life now.
That's it I guess. Everything else on the list is either so obviously true it doesn't need repeating, or could possibly need reassessing in the future. But for now, I'm going to let sleeping dogs lie.
This is quite a short post, but I don't really have a lot to say. I just wanted to see whether I was still learning new things.
Emmatt update: Haven't done one of these in a while because there's very little to report. Matt and I are still together (3.5 years in February), and we're still making long distance work through a combination of phone calls, texting, and total, unquestioning trust. There's a plan in the pipeline to try and move in together once I've graduated, but money (as ever) is the key thing holding us back. And anyway, who knows what things will be like in six months' time?
Saturday, 4 February 2017
Friday, 20 January 2017
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
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...
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. |
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...
Tuesday, 15 November 2016
An Open Letter to a Personal Hero
Dear Dr. Wood,
We met briefly in the pub before your concert in St Albans last month. It was one of the best concerts I've seen you do. I don't know why, because it's exactly the same set I've been seeing live since 2008. But something about that particular show was better, even perhaps better than your performance at the O2 with Status Quo a few years back.
You might vaguely remember me. I came into the pub with my dad about ten minutes before the show was due to start, and was slightly gobsmacked at actually meeting you in person. It was just such a surreal experience. You - Roy Wood - were there. In a Wetherspoons, right in front of me.
My dad asked you to sign about a million copies of the painting hanging in our "music room" (anyone else would call it the dining room); The Songwriter by Debra Dee, from the collection of portraits she painted of you. They were on display at St Paul's Gallery in Birmingham in 2012. It's one of the more crazy things my dad has ever bought - I remember coming home from school one day, and he was just grinning like a fool. I didn't even have to ask why. I think my exact words were "which one did you buy?" Apparently that painting makes up a portion of my inheritance. My boyfriend is thrilled...
We took a few photos together, which astonished friends and family. There are hardly any photos of my dad in existence. Surprisingly, this isn't because he's a vampire; it's simply because he doesn't like photos. When I was growing up, the only picture of him on display in our house was meeting you at some obscure concert in some obscure year of the 80s. I think that speaks volumes for you.
Without needing to be asked, my dad told you that his favourite song of yours is "Mist on a Monday Morning". And he's right, the poetry of the words is amazing, and the orchestration is very clever. Dad asked you if you'd written it (he knew you had, but didn't want to get it wrong, I think), to which you said "Of course I did, you knob." That sent him reeling. Hours later he was still over the moon; "Roy Wood called me a knob!", he kept joyously repeating.
When asked, you said that your favourite song from your extensive catalogue is "Beautiful Daughter". I agree that it's a lovely song, and I'm sure it has much more meaning to you than it does to anyone else. That's just how these things are. But it got me thinking about which of the thousands is my favourite. I'm sure you probably don't want to know, but I'd like to tell you.
It took some consideration. Being born in the 90s means that I have very little concept of what was popular, or successful, or even sometimes exactly when things were released. I also get confused between The Move and early ELO sometimes, but I'm working on it.
There are the obvious favourite songs, such as "See My Baby Jive" and "Angel Fingers", but whilst brilliant, neither of those was ever really contenders for me. I love "Blackberry Way", especially the new edit on Music Book, but I never know whether to laugh or cry when I hear it. It's quite a painful song in a strange way.
I absolutely adore "Brontosaurus", although it's a little muddy-sounding, and I think that building it into the intro for "California Man" is genius. "California Man" is another amazing song, although my experience with real Californian men leaves something to be desired. And I have to point out, Dr. Wood, you're not actually from California. You're from Birmingham. Sorry to break it to you.
I also get some enjoyment from the mad, comedic songs you've produced, such as "Curly" and "When Gran'ma Plays The Banjo". Heaven knows why. "Jolly Cup Of Tea" is also on the list. Somewhere.
But in the end, Dr. Wood, I think my favourite song you've ever written is "Whisper In The Night". There's a recording, an old live recording, of you playing it without the choir, and that's one of my favourite recordings ever, I think. It starts with you saying "That was Jeff Lynne, of course. Of course... Of course..." and then you go on to explain the song. It's beautiful and I don't really know why. That song also contains on of my favourite quotes of all time; "Though God gave the world // It's not mine to throw away." I don't know if you're religious or if it's just there for musicality, but it really strikes a chord with me. But I suppose you don't need telling how amazing your work is. It's right there, every Christmas, when the whole world is playing your song. (And a smaller portion of the world is playing your other song, "Sing Out The Old, Bring In The New". That's also great, by the way.)
But I've been talking for a while now, I'd better stop so you can get on. I guess what I'm trying to say, Dr. Wood, is thank you. Thanks for being a genius and writing a lot of my favourite songs; thank you for founding most of my favourite bands too. But thank you most of all for being a decent human being, and letting a starstruck young woman and her dad interrupt you in a pub. Having a hero who's also a stand up guy is a real blessing.
I'm going to another of your concerts this year, I've been incredibly lucky. A friend and I are going to Birmingham on the 20th December to see Rockmas, with you, Chas and Dave, and Andy Fairweather-Low and the Low Riders. We even got seats really close to the front. You won't be surprised to hear that I'm looking forward to it!
Anyway, it was a pleasure meeting you. I look forward to seeing you again.
Best wishes,
Emma
We met briefly in the pub before your concert in St Albans last month. It was one of the best concerts I've seen you do. I don't know why, because it's exactly the same set I've been seeing live since 2008. But something about that particular show was better, even perhaps better than your performance at the O2 with Status Quo a few years back.
You might vaguely remember me. I came into the pub with my dad about ten minutes before the show was due to start, and was slightly gobsmacked at actually meeting you in person. It was just such a surreal experience. You - Roy Wood - were there. In a Wetherspoons, right in front of me.
My dad asked you to sign about a million copies of the painting hanging in our "music room" (anyone else would call it the dining room); The Songwriter by Debra Dee, from the collection of portraits she painted of you. They were on display at St Paul's Gallery in Birmingham in 2012. It's one of the more crazy things my dad has ever bought - I remember coming home from school one day, and he was just grinning like a fool. I didn't even have to ask why. I think my exact words were "which one did you buy?" Apparently that painting makes up a portion of my inheritance. My boyfriend is thrilled...
We took a few photos together, which astonished friends and family. There are hardly any photos of my dad in existence. Surprisingly, this isn't because he's a vampire; it's simply because he doesn't like photos. When I was growing up, the only picture of him on display in our house was meeting you at some obscure concert in some obscure year of the 80s. I think that speaks volumes for you.
Without needing to be asked, my dad told you that his favourite song of yours is "Mist on a Monday Morning". And he's right, the poetry of the words is amazing, and the orchestration is very clever. Dad asked you if you'd written it (he knew you had, but didn't want to get it wrong, I think), to which you said "Of course I did, you knob." That sent him reeling. Hours later he was still over the moon; "Roy Wood called me a knob!", he kept joyously repeating.
When asked, you said that your favourite song from your extensive catalogue is "Beautiful Daughter". I agree that it's a lovely song, and I'm sure it has much more meaning to you than it does to anyone else. That's just how these things are. But it got me thinking about which of the thousands is my favourite. I'm sure you probably don't want to know, but I'd like to tell you.
It took some consideration. Being born in the 90s means that I have very little concept of what was popular, or successful, or even sometimes exactly when things were released. I also get confused between The Move and early ELO sometimes, but I'm working on it.
There are the obvious favourite songs, such as "See My Baby Jive" and "Angel Fingers", but whilst brilliant, neither of those was ever really contenders for me. I love "Blackberry Way", especially the new edit on Music Book, but I never know whether to laugh or cry when I hear it. It's quite a painful song in a strange way.
I absolutely adore "Brontosaurus", although it's a little muddy-sounding, and I think that building it into the intro for "California Man" is genius. "California Man" is another amazing song, although my experience with real Californian men leaves something to be desired. And I have to point out, Dr. Wood, you're not actually from California. You're from Birmingham. Sorry to break it to you.
I also get some enjoyment from the mad, comedic songs you've produced, such as "Curly" and "When Gran'ma Plays The Banjo". Heaven knows why. "Jolly Cup Of Tea" is also on the list. Somewhere.
But in the end, Dr. Wood, I think my favourite song you've ever written is "Whisper In The Night". There's a recording, an old live recording, of you playing it without the choir, and that's one of my favourite recordings ever, I think. It starts with you saying "That was Jeff Lynne, of course. Of course... Of course..." and then you go on to explain the song. It's beautiful and I don't really know why. That song also contains on of my favourite quotes of all time; "Though God gave the world // It's not mine to throw away." I don't know if you're religious or if it's just there for musicality, but it really strikes a chord with me. But I suppose you don't need telling how amazing your work is. It's right there, every Christmas, when the whole world is playing your song. (And a smaller portion of the world is playing your other song, "Sing Out The Old, Bring In The New". That's also great, by the way.)
But I've been talking for a while now, I'd better stop so you can get on. I guess what I'm trying to say, Dr. Wood, is thank you. Thanks for being a genius and writing a lot of my favourite songs; thank you for founding most of my favourite bands too. But thank you most of all for being a decent human being, and letting a starstruck young woman and her dad interrupt you in a pub. Having a hero who's also a stand up guy is a real blessing.
I'm going to another of your concerts this year, I've been incredibly lucky. A friend and I are going to Birmingham on the 20th December to see Rockmas, with you, Chas and Dave, and Andy Fairweather-Low and the Low Riders. We even got seats really close to the front. You won't be surprised to hear that I'm looking forward to it!
Anyway, it was a pleasure meeting you. I look forward to seeing you again.
Best wishes,
Emma
Sunday, 9 October 2016
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
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
Thursday, 29 September 2016
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!
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!
Monday, 27 June 2016
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!!!!
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!!!!
Friday, 27 May 2016
A Problem Shared
Hello children. So you're back for more are you? I don't know why people keep reading this drivel, but I still enjoy writing it, so you're in luck. The pondering this week has mostly been based around my everyday life and those around me. Clearly this means that I've been pondering talking. And tea. But I don't think I could write a post about tea that anyone would willingly read.
You see, we're always told as children that a problem shared is a problem halved. But is it? What happens when the person you choose to share your problem with doesn't believe you? What if they can't solve the problem? Doesn't it just double someone else's problems? Or what if the solution they propose doesn't fit with your world view? Well, lucky for you I'm here to answer all the question you've never asked. With my own particular brand of opinionated drivel.
So let's take the first question. What if your problem is invisible? What if nobody believes the issues your having? Well, this is certainly an issue. If people can't see proof of a problem they might be unwilling to help, or they might try to convince you that nothing is wrong. This can lead to feeling like you've wasted people's time, and that your problem isn't actually a problem at all. Maybe it really is just in your head. Maybe it's not important enough to actually bother people with. Suddenly your problem is doubled, or so it seems. But why would anyone think that? If you're used to hearing things such as "Are you sure it's that bad?" or "I don't believe that's a problem," then you're not going to feel like anything is better. But maybe you've just chosen the wrong person to talk to for this problem. Find someone who believes you, or someone who will at least let you talk uninterrupted, I suppose. Last option would be a cat or something, I suppose. Maybe a tree?
OK, so you've found someone to talk to. Now what? What if they can't help you find a solution? Is there always an answer? No! Of course not! Life isn't like that, life just kind of goes off in all directions at once. But just having someone to talk to can make a huge difference to that; sometimes you can come up with ideas for the next move just by saying things out loud to another person, and sometimes they will have different ideas too. But even if you can't solve the problem between you, you've not lost anything by talking to someone, and often the small steps which can be taken to righting a wrong can't be seen from up close.
But look at what talking to someone achieves: you've reduced your stress levels, taken the baby steps and you may even have become closer to your confidante in the process. Well done you!
OK, so what now? You've talked about it, you're feeling better. Can your friend help you? Probably. Friends are good like that. But what if you don't like the answer you've been given? Well, certain arguments would suggest steaming ahead with your own plan anyway, unless you're actually going to die. Don't do that. But there is no requirement for you to listen to your friends. Anyway, who's to say your solution won't work? It's far better than having a list of "What Ifs". Sometimes you really do need to go with your gut.You can, of course, spitball all the ideas you have until you come to a compromise, but how likely is that to happen if one of you is far more invested in the issue than the other? Exactly.
But still discuss it, just in case dying really is a possibility and you've just overlooked it.
So, conclusion: Do I have one? Probably not. Do I ever have anything to say? Probably not. But my opinion is clear. TALK TO PEOPLE YOU SPANNER. If you're really having issues, of any kind, you need to talk to someone, just to make yourself more comfortable. Sometimes it just worth hearing the arguments you've had in your head out loud, so that you know how crazy you sound. Everyone needs the occasional reality check.
You see, we're always told as children that a problem shared is a problem halved. But is it? What happens when the person you choose to share your problem with doesn't believe you? What if they can't solve the problem? Doesn't it just double someone else's problems? Or what if the solution they propose doesn't fit with your world view? Well, lucky for you I'm here to answer all the question you've never asked. With my own particular brand of opinionated drivel.
So let's take the first question. What if your problem is invisible? What if nobody believes the issues your having? Well, this is certainly an issue. If people can't see proof of a problem they might be unwilling to help, or they might try to convince you that nothing is wrong. This can lead to feeling like you've wasted people's time, and that your problem isn't actually a problem at all. Maybe it really is just in your head. Maybe it's not important enough to actually bother people with. Suddenly your problem is doubled, or so it seems. But why would anyone think that? If you're used to hearing things such as "Are you sure it's that bad?" or "I don't believe that's a problem," then you're not going to feel like anything is better. But maybe you've just chosen the wrong person to talk to for this problem. Find someone who believes you, or someone who will at least let you talk uninterrupted, I suppose. Last option would be a cat or something, I suppose. Maybe a tree?
OK, so you've found someone to talk to. Now what? What if they can't help you find a solution? Is there always an answer? No! Of course not! Life isn't like that, life just kind of goes off in all directions at once. But just having someone to talk to can make a huge difference to that; sometimes you can come up with ideas for the next move just by saying things out loud to another person, and sometimes they will have different ideas too. But even if you can't solve the problem between you, you've not lost anything by talking to someone, and often the small steps which can be taken to righting a wrong can't be seen from up close.
But look at what talking to someone achieves: you've reduced your stress levels, taken the baby steps and you may even have become closer to your confidante in the process. Well done you!
OK, so what now? You've talked about it, you're feeling better. Can your friend help you? Probably. Friends are good like that. But what if you don't like the answer you've been given? Well, certain arguments would suggest steaming ahead with your own plan anyway, unless you're actually going to die. Don't do that. But there is no requirement for you to listen to your friends. Anyway, who's to say your solution won't work? It's far better than having a list of "What Ifs". Sometimes you really do need to go with your gut.You can, of course, spitball all the ideas you have until you come to a compromise, but how likely is that to happen if one of you is far more invested in the issue than the other? Exactly.
But still discuss it, just in case dying really is a possibility and you've just overlooked it.
So, conclusion: Do I have one? Probably not. Do I ever have anything to say? Probably not. But my opinion is clear. TALK TO PEOPLE YOU SPANNER. If you're really having issues, of any kind, you need to talk to someone, just to make yourself more comfortable. Sometimes it just worth hearing the arguments you've had in your head out loud, so that you know how crazy you sound. Everyone needs the occasional reality check.
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