Confessions of a Bad Blogger

It's been three months since I last blogged. And I'm not ashamed. While I have been hugging a few friends and my grandparents, I have not been working on hugging. Nor have I been keeping track of who I've hugged. I can tell you, I haven't hugged anyone new.

Why the lapse in working on hugging? Blame Dr. Oz.

A few months ago I got a free magazine in the mail, Dr. Oz The Good Life. I'm not sure why I received this magazine, but I read it. What can I say, I'm a sucker when it comes to magazines. I made it 3/4 of the way through when I came upon an article on hugging titled "Who Wants a Hug?". I thought, oh great, a subliminal message from the hugging gods. Now I really hate hugging. And I hate Dr. Oz for trying to make me like hugging. But as I read the article, actually written by Peggy Drexler, a psychologist, I realized I wasn't so abnormal after all. Well, wasn't so abnormal in not liking hugs anyway. She doesn't like them either. And if a psychologist doesn't like hugs, I don't have to. But she did give some good advice on hugging and even a few reasons to embrace hugging. It's actually a fun article, you should check it out. http://www.peggydrexler.com/articles/1402-DrOz.jpg Just don't look taken aback when I use the line, "You don't want to hug me, my scampi was full of garlic!"

All of this aside, I'm still going to try and learn to like hugging. After all, it protects your heart, eases stress, and boosts immunity. That's not all though. I've had a few people ask what was up with my lack of blogging, including Fred. In fact, just by posting this very post, Fred has to buy me flowers as part of our back to hugging and blogging agreement. Despite the fact that he asked me to buy tickets to The Black Keys and instead I bought tickets to see Cher and Cyndi Lauper and then told my sister she could have his ticket, he still has to.

Like Bees and Dogs, Huggers Can Smell Fear

They say bees and dogs can smell fear. Whether or not that's true, I don't know. I do know that huggers can smell fear. The fear of non huggers. 

With Valentine's Day being last week, you might expect to see my hug count sky rocket. It didn't. No one got hugs for Valentine's Day. 

However, I did meet Fred's (his name is really Fred, no need for privacy here) family for the first time over the weekend, and that did require some hugging. One at the beginning of Saturday evening and one at the end. Both your typical hug. One may have involved a back pat because nervousness took over. I can't recall. I should have written it down. Talk about an awkward time that would have been.

What happened the next day is what makes me 100% certain huggers can smell fear. Fred's sister-in-law gave him a giant bear hug, then looked at me and smiled and said, "yes, you're getting one too." It's like she knew that although I was smiling on the outside, I was cowering in fear on the inside. She had no idea I wasn't a hugger. She had no preemptive warning. She could smell the hugging fear, and she was not going to let me get away. Turns out, the hug was fine. It was a side hug. Those are always easier. It's like you don't truly have to commit to the hug. You're still free to duck out if need be.

Day 17 of Month 2 (day 48 in total), and I'm at 18 hugs.

Windshield Graffiti

While out of town for a client meeting, I left my car at work for 3 nights. I came home to graffiti of the worst kind thanks to one coworker. I guess this is better than the other pranks he had planned for my car.

Client meetings are usually hug-a-thons at the start and finish. This go around was different. One hug at the beginning upon arrival. And one hug, from a different person, upon departure. Both were one armed, pat the back hugs.

As I enter day 7 of month 2 or day 38 for those of you not doing math, I'm up to 14 hugs. Actually, make that 15 hugs. I did get an unexpected face full of armpit when I was hugged by surprise on Super Bowl Sunday. Speaking of bad at math, I thought for sure I was on hugs 21-23. After some quick calculations, I overestimated my hugging activity, a mere 15 hugs it is.

I blame this on 2 things.

1. It's winter, it's cold, and I don't get out much. And when I do get out, I'm so bundled up I can't move my arms enough to hug someone even if I wanted to. It'd be more of a coat covered chest bump.

2. The thought of becoming a hugger was much more exciting at the beginning of this project. I have since remembered why I never liked hugging to begin with.

A goal is a goal though. By day 365, I will be able to hug without a cringe on my face.

Meeting Doodles

It's day 30. My hug count is still at 12. I now present you with a combination of my favorite things and least favorite things.

The Opposite of Hugging

I had plans to travel home to Evansville this past weekend with hopes of big things for this blog. A rare sighting of me hugging my parents. Something I haven't done in over 10 years, if not longer. Well, to make a long story short, the hugging didn't happen. To make a short story long, this is what did.

Saturday evening we had a family dinner. My mom cooked dinner while my sister and I made fancy champagne cocktails. I was setting the stage for the big event. I was going to whisper the idea to my sister and hand her my phone to capture video evidence. One cocktail led to several, and said hugging didn't happen.

Sunday morning we had breakfast with the grand idea to make beignets because scrambled eggs wasn't going to cut it for such a momentous event. At this point in the story, I'm still the only one that knew about the hugging plans. That's the way my mind works. Until I tell someone else about it, it's not really a plan, and therefore I'm not stuck to it. Now back to the beignets. We apparently never passed that frying indoors in the winter class because that oil got hot and smokey and all the windows were shut tight. This perturbed my father immensely to the point of demanding my mother, sister, and I "Shut the operation down."

2 things here:
1. I've never really seen my dad get that mad in person. I've only heard tales of it.
2. Cooking breakfast had now become "an operation".

We didn't shut it down. We turned the oil down, finished our beignets (which were amazing), and cleaned up our mess. Meanwhile, my father was walking through the house slamming doors and mumbling things under his breath about us being stupid. He ended up not talking to us the rest of the day so the whole hugging thing didn't happen. I didn't even get a goodbye. Just a side eyed glare which I'm pretty sure meant, get the hell out of my house and take this damn oil smell with you but use my gas card if you need because I still love you (I added that last part in and used it. Because I knew he'd want me to, even if he was mad.)

This is not the sad story of a girl who wanted a hug from her dear father, but didn't get one. So my dad got mad, big deal, he'll get over it. I'll eventually get that awkward, what was I thinking, how do I hug my dad again, is it okay to pat his back, hugging moment.

For now, the tally is still at 12 hugs on day 27.

National Hugging Day

Tomorrow, January 21, is National Hugging Day. Believe it or not, there is "an official" National Hugging Day website. It states, "...National Hugging Day always suggests at least asking first." Words to live by for those that aren't a fan of hugs.

I guess my mom was on to something when she requested my sister and I say, "I'm ready to hug," before doing so. At least we gave fair warning.

For those of you interested in the site: http://nationalhuggingday.com/

For those of you interested in hugging me, well, good luck finding me.

19 Days and 12 Hugs

Maybe hugging is like trying vegetables. You don't like them because you don't want to like them, but really, you've never actually tried liking them. Take brussel sprouts for instance. Growing up, I hated brussel sprouts because my siblings hated them. I never really tried to like them. As an adult, I gave them a fighting chance and it turns out, I love them. Could hugging be similar?

I attended a baby shower over the weekend for some friends I haven't seen in a few months. I used to see them on a weekly basis during kickball season. Once winter hit, we all seemed to go our separate ways. I've never hugged these friends before because it never felt appropriate. But there was something about seeing someone with a giant baby bump that felt like I couldn't possibly say no and go in for the handshake. So I did it. I went in, both arms spread wide open. And guess what. It wasn't horrible. In fact, I hugged her when I left also, and two other people. That makes 6 hugs in one day. 8 if you count the soon to be born baby. Which I don't. Because that kind of weirds me out.

To break down these hugs: Full frontal for the pregnant friend. One handed back pat for her boyfriend. And a sit down side hug to finish off the hugs. I'm still leaning towards the one handed back pat. That way I'm not fully committing, but not fully backing out. It's kind of a win win.

So here I am on day on day 19, and I'm up to 12 hugs. More if you count a certain repeat offender.

This Tuesday is National Hugging Day. I've debated between jumping in feet first and hugging everyone in site (there's not enough liquor in the world to make this happen) or cowering in my office in hopes of not seeing anyone that wants a hug (this is the more likely choice). In all actuality, I think my aunts (see facebook post to the side) are the only ones aware of this holiday. They too aren't the biggest of huggers, but they sure like to give me shit about not hugging. Maybe they secretly want hugs and are playing it cool pretending to not. Sometimes I wonder if that's what I'm doing. Then I snap back to reality and realize, given the choice between hug or no hug, I'd still go for no hug. However, I'm much more likely to hug those offering than I was 19 days ago, I'm just not going to initiate it.