ALWAYS talk to strangers

I can clearly remember learning all about 'Stranger Danger' when I was about 6 or 7. A stranger was any adult I didn't know. Strangers were scary people who were always coming up with clever and cunning plans to steal me on my walk home from school. Never mind that I didn't ever walk home from school, I was taught that's when they were going to strike! I was so paranoid about strangers - even women, because I was that weird 6 year old who read newspapers and knew all about Myra Hindley and Ian Brady. The first word I remember looking up in a dictionary is 'garotte'.

With this in mind, it's taken me a long time to unlearn the paranoid lesson here and replace it with a sensible approach to life. You see, after moving to the other side of the world, I've learned you should ALWAYS talk to strangers! I don't mean it exactly like it sounds and we should all be running around shouting at each other and trying to engage in conversation with every person we should meet (but Jesus, London! A friendly smile every now and then wouldn't go astray!) But I think the lesson we all need to learn is that (with common sense) we should absolutely not be afraid to talk to strangers!

Just since I have been in London, I have had some amazing adventures with complete strangers!

When I was on my way to Berlin to meet friends from high school, I was travelling alone. My flight left so early that I was actually forced to catch the last bus to the airport and wait until 6.25am when my flight departed. As I arrived at the bus stop, I saw some others with suitcases and asked them if I was at the right stop. A lone girl and a lone guy said I was. When the bus arrived, I started chatting to the girl behind me in line - asking where she was off to. We sat next to each other on the bus and chatted for over an hour. We were both waiting for early morning flights so I asked her if she'd like to set up a camp with me on the floor of the airport. I said I had chocolate and Red Bull and she offered some chips (crisps for my UK friends). As we got off the bus, I stood beside the lone guy from the bus stop. So I told him of our plans and invited him to join us. He eagerly agreed and when we were settled, he bought us all hot chocolates. It was a fun six hours. The girl was able to get some sleep knowing her stuff wouldn't get stolen and the guy and I chatted about Italy and travel. We had breakfast together when the airport shops opened and at 6.25am, I caught my flight leaving behind Roxy and Francesco, my new friends!

Roxy, me and Francesco in Stansted airport

When I arrived in Berlin, I had over 24 hours to spend on my own. I made my way to my hostel and steadfastly refused to sleep and risk wasting a second in this new, amazing city. So I took a bus tour and saw some incredible sights. I had already decided I would be pushing myself so had bought a ticket to the Fun. concert. Stupidly, I misread 2100 as 7pm and arrived two hours early for the show. I joined the queue of excited Fun. fans and kept my ear out for a chance to talk to someone. Sadly, I was thwarted by my lack of a second language as everyone around me spoke German or French so I just waited. And waited.

Finally the gates opened but all people with online tickets had to present their tickets at a booth behind us in the line. The group of girls behind me gathered all their tickets into one pile and passed it to the closest girl who went to hand the whole stack over in one go. On a whim, I tapped one girl on the shoulder and pushed my ticket towards her. "Could you do mine too, please?" I begged. She handed my ticket on to her friend and turned back to me. In very good English she asked me why I was by myself!! Turns out of the three girls, two spoke very good English! The other spoke both French and German. The girls asked if I'd like to watch the concert with them. They shared their Pepsi, held my place while I bought my tour shirt and took photos to pass the time. We had a blast!

They stayed behind to hunt autographs from the band. I was forced to drag my poor body that had been awake for near on 42 hours by then back to the hostel leaving behind Carole-Ann, Lea and Celine, my new friends!

Carole-Ann, me, Lea and Celine at the Fun. concert

In my hostel, Simon, one of my high school friends had finally arrived and after a big day, we were in our bunks resting. A nice guy who was staying in our room started chatting to us and ended up inviting us out for drinks. Well, Simon was too tired but I was determined to have fun. After all...

So we wondered down the road from our hotel chatting. He was Brazilian and had seen quite a few European countries. We traded stories of our adventures and compared notes on our home countries. He bought a round of drinks and I bought the next round. The next day, Andrew, my other friend from high school arrived. Simon and I waved to him from the hostel room window as we saw him approach. Then we decided to hide in the bathroom while the Brazilian pretended to have booked out the whole room for his birthday and convinced Andrew he was in the wrong room. He played the part perfectly and I still laugh thinking about poor, confused Andrew while Simon and I stifled giggles in the bathroom. Then the four of us went out for dinner! It was fantastic, but he had to leave to go to the next country that morning. But when Fred left, we waved goodbye to our new friend!

Andrew, me, Simon and Fred at the hostel bar

The next night everyone from room 505 at the hostel was having drinks. I went downstairs to get something from the room. On my way back up, I noticed the button for calling the down elevator was crooked so I tried to straighten it - accidentally pressing it. When the doors opened for no reason, a  girl was standing there by herself. I apologised for pressing the button. She said it was ok and she was trying to decide if she should go to the bar or the lobby. I said 'the bar! Come on! Come back up with me!' So she did. I have never got along with a girl so quickly and so well. We were chatting about everything and sharing stories. She was American, travelling Europe. I sadly learned she wouldn't be going through London but we swapped Facebook details and hung out all night! I know she will gladly host me in New Jersey and she knows she is welcome in London anytime! My biggest regret of the whole Berlin trip (which will one day be rectified) is I didn't get a photo with Jennifer, my new friend.

Jennifer

Then there is the pinnacle of these stories. The absolute epitome of why you should always welcome a friendly stranger in to your life. Matt, my best friend in all of Europe! All of the Northern hemisphere in fact!

Zombie Marilyn Monroe and Tony Stark

I met Matt in a pub when I was with my brother. The series of little coincidences that lead to our actual meeting is astounding considering how much he has affected my life here in London. As much as falling off my scooter sucked, if I hadn't of I would not have met Matt as I would have been at work that day instead of testing out my recovery with a small day out before returning to work the very next day. We met when he called my brother out for making fun of the way Americans write the date backwards. We started chatting and nearly two hours later, swapped Twitter details. Matt came to visit me after my shift the next day and we went out to London Dungeon the week after. We've pretty much seen each other every week since. I introduced him to football and made him a Liverpool fan and he in turn taught me about baseball and made me a St. Louis Cardinals fan. For Christmas I bought him a Liverpool jersey and he bought me a Cardinals one. I took him to his first EPL game and one day, he will take me to my first MLB game.

Me and Matt at Anfield

When I went to LA last year, he arranged for his sister (who is an incredible girl who I am lucky to call a friend!) to play tour guide for me on my first night alone. We got on so well that I left Disneyland early to spend my last day with her before heading back to London.

Me and Matt's sister Boo in LA

When his sister visited recently, we spent heaps of time together taking in the sights of London.

Matt, me and Boo on the River Thames

Matt asked me to join a co-ed softball team with him and now we play every week. I have in turn made some more amazing friends on the team who I hang out with outside of softball.

Evan, Matt, me, Kieran, Krista, Aneil and Sam
Just some of the Basejumpers softball team!

I've also met Matt's other sister and even his Mum. Matt has hung out with my dad and was even with us when he visited his childhood home for the first time in 50 years. One day soon I am going to go to America and Matt will show me around his parts. I hope he comes to Australia so I can teach him how to throw a boomerang and wrestle his first croc.

I was talking to a friend from my softball team and he seemed shocked to find out how Matt and I met. But without that friendly act nine months ago, I wouldn't have even been having that conversation with a softball teammate. I have had some amazing adventures and these are only some of them. I love my life in London and the people I have met are a huge part of that.

And it's all because I ALWAYS talk to strangers.

Miss SAMawdsley xx

Questions:

• Have you had some amazing adventures with strangers?
• Have you ever made friends with a stranger?
• Has talking to a stranger ever gone wrong for you?

Dear Mum, I'm sad on my trip of a lifetime.

This is an actual email I sent to my Mum this morning. I guess this is the honest side of my adventure.

Hey Mum,

I wish I knew why I seem so 'not myself' to you. I think you hit the nail on the head when you said I'm "very tired and a little lost". I think because it's "Seamus & Carol" I feel a bit like a third wheel. Not in the bad way, just that there's nobody here who is just for me. A friend or anything.

I don't think I'm homesick because like you've said before, I just didn't have much in Australia keeping me there. I mean, I miss certain people of course, but not "home" so much. Home isn't even there anymore. That was demolished during my first week of being here. I even managed to have a moment about that.

But I am having fun. I've been to a Liverpool game. I've been to Tower of London and London Dungeon. And I've reminisced about our adventures. Remember how we found London Dungeon to begin with? That was so much fun and a story I love telling. Last night we went to see Rhod Gilbert, a comedian & I laughed so much.

I've made a friend, I know I've told you about him, & he texts me every day so I don't feel so alone sometimes. And if I do, I can talk to him about it. He was really good to me last week. Texted me for hours telling me everything would be ok. Said I could call him - but I wouldn't because I was crying. He made sure I was ok. Walking into the pub the day we met him was the best decision I've made since being here, I think.

I know that makes it sound terrible. Sometimes it all gets too much. It does. I admit that. But I'm ok. It's also hard because like last night, Tuesday night, I said good night to Seamus & Carol. I said "Good night, see you... err..." And we figured out I won't see Seamus until Friday and Carol until Saturday. That's how I live. So even though I live with Seamus & Carol, I get really lonely.

I don't think I've made you feel any better about me writing this email. But I just want you to know I am ok. I am having a blast and I'm starting to make friends - with people from work and strangers from Twitter. It's the twentieth century! Or the twenty-first...? I can never remember.

I'm going to make a list of things I want to do on my days off so I have things to look forward to. I can wake up, look at my list and say "What am I going to do today?" And I think I'm going to ask work if I can drop back to four days a week. Four nine hour shifts is still 36 hours a week, so I can still have my pocket money working those hours. At this rate, I'm earning money with no time to spend it, which is great for my bank balance but bad for my sanity! :P

Anyway, I love you lots and I'll talk to you soon. Sorry I wasn't able to talk yesterday morning. I was off to work...

Love, Sammy Seal

xx

At the Natural History Museum! Dinosaurs! 

Traitors' Gate!
Tower of London: My favourite place in London! 

Shooting stuff. 11 out of 12 stuffs! 

You'll never walk alone!
At a Liverpool game! 

Wembley Stadium for England v Ukraine!
My two best guy friends have gone now... :( 

Miss SAMawdsley xx

Questions:

• Have you ever been sad when you're meant to be happy? 
• Have you ever had people sense you're not OK when you yourself can't even verbalise why you're not OK?

Where I belong...

I was bullied in high school. I was a social outcast. It hurt, it destroyed my confidence and in a way, it crushed my spirit. While I know the initial bullying was for something stupid and outside of my control (my family & I did a milk run... I know, right?), my overly-enthusiastic, somewhat offbeat & eternally optimistic personality seemed to bait my bullies into damaging my self-esteem as much as possible. Even teachers recognised I was a little bit odd. In the last English lesson of high school, my teacher gave out a literary quote, hand picked for each student to reflect her feelings for us as individuals. Mine?

"If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer. Let him step to the music which he hears, however measured or far away." 

---Henry David Thoreau---

And that's what I have always done. I'm still overly-enthusiastic. I'm still somewhat offbeat. And I'm still eternally optimistic. But I'm also still very insecure that all these qualities I possess combine to make one really irritating human being who "deserves" all the bullying she got.

Until I joined a football team in 2011.

My cousin suggested I join & promised me that all the girls were a great & it was a very supportive team. I trusted her & honestly, it was the best decision I ever made. I was terrified going to the first training session. Dad, who just plain loves football, came with me. I was convinced that everyone would hate me, that I would just be "the new girl" and that I would not fit in.

I could not have been more wrong. Dad was straight away asked to be the assistant coach and the girls welcomed me as one of them. Not a single one treated me like I was anything but a friend and much appreciated teammate - and I mean for my personality, not for my (questionable) football prowess.

I was going through one of the worst periods of my life when I joined the team. I was actually suicidal and being part of a team that felt like they needed me helped save my life. I couldn't let them down when, by signing up to the team, I had made a promise. And I keep promises. Some of the girls knew about my troubles. They happily let me be number 7 to appease my OCD and it has been "my number" ever since. I "missed" one training session but what the girls don't know is I was actually there, in the parking lot, sobbing my heart out begging my dad to just let me kill myself. I tried so hard to be at training but I couldn't do it that night. But even despite it all, I knew, and I know now, that they would never judge me for all this.

Of course I signed on again this season. After our coach declined to continue, Dad was asked to be coach and he loves it - he genuinely loves all the girls and brags to his football team about what a great group of girls he has. Dad and I actually sold our house (after 20 years there) and moved closer to my teammates. Prior to this, we had lived 45 mins from my home ground. That's how much of a difference being part of this team has made to my life. Our biggest life decision in 20 years was made with the consideration of where my football team plays.

This season I tried to come off my Zoloft (which I am on for my OCD) and I became irritable and actually nearly got sent off in a few games. But my team understands me. They accept or dismiss my apologies as unnecessary and they love me anyway. It may be even because of my honesty. I don't know. All that matters to me is that they love and accept me.

I missed the last game of the season this year because my flight to England was 35 minutes before kick off. At my last game, most of the team agreed to come out to dinner with me to celebrate. I was only missing one game (and hope to be back in Australia in time for the next season) but they did the most amazing thing for me. After hearing of my Will Blog For Music campaign, the girls raised $100 to contribute and signed a huge card for me.

I cried. In many ways, I still feel like that bullied, outcast little girl, so to feel so accepted and loved by an entire group for exactly who I am, flaws and all, means more to me than any of the girls could possibly understand.

Today I spoke to Dad and he told me about the last game of the season that I missed to catch my flight to London. The girls, the amazing group of girls that I am so honoured to call my friends, wore yellow tape on their arms (the way other sporting teams were black arm bands as a mark of respect after a death) to show that I was there with them in spirit. I wear yellow tape on my football socks, that's the link there, but when Dad told me that, I cried. They didn't do it "for me", as in to tell me to make me happy, they did it "for me" in that they genuinely care about me and wanted to feel me there in spirit with them.

My team! See their yellow arm bands for me?

Since it was father's day, they also signed a father's day card for Dad and gave him a box of chocolates. Seriously. That's the group of girls I am talking about. That is my group of girls.

Even this post doesn't capture how I feel about my football team. How do you explain the way you feel for people who made you feel like a worthy human being, who welcomed you entirely for the first time ever and who, in essence, saved your life? I'm known for being quite verbose but in this case, I simply have five words.

Thank you. I love you.

Miss SAMawdsley xx

Questions:

• Who do you owe thanks to?
• Where do you feel the most comfortable?
• What's been your experience with team sports?

What would you sacrifice to do something you love?

I am accident prone. This is no secret. I have blogged about this in my post, "And try not to hurt yourself".

Since then, my relationship broke up and my football season started up again. The football part is great news for me because I love my football - both playing and watching. It's terrible news for my boss because since the season started, I've limped into work almost every Monday morning. He's told me that if I was in the army, I would have been sanctioned for self-inflicting these wounds.

Now, to clarify, my boss is also my uncle. So he's kidding. Same as when he tells me I'm not the accident waiting to happen, I'm the accident that keeps on happening. He loves me dearly, I know that. And he only wants what is best for me - both personally and professionally. As my uncle he has, on numerous occasions, urged me to give up football. My aunty has insisted I do girl things. She wrote it on my whiteboard at work. "Sammy is a girl and must only do girlie things!" And upon hearing last week that both my knees were injured (strained ACL on my left and a bruise on my right) Mum's exact words were "You have to give up the football, kiddo." Where are these sentiments coming from?

Well today I didn't limp into the office. No, no. My dad drove me to work & carried my laptop in while I hobbled in on crutches. My team was 1-0 with only a few minutes to go in our game on Saturday. Desperate to not concede a goal, I went in for a challenge and while I did dispossess the attacker, I came off second best. I have an appointment with the doctor tomorrow and I imagine I will be sent for an X-Ray &/or an MRI.

For months my uncle has insisted I will regret my decision to continue playing football. Now you can't be a Mawdsley without being passionate about football, so you must understand he has had a long involvement with the game - he and my dad were even foundation members of a local club, Rochedale Rovers. He played with my dad for many, many years. He was goalkeeper and he hurt his knee and back on numerous occasions. He continued to play. He regrets it now. He believes I will too.

My uncle has a lot of constant and very severe back and knee pain. It robs him of sleep, physical mobility, the ability to do much of the work he is capable of doing around his house and being able to play all rough and tumble with his granddaughter - the light of his life.

On the other hand, there is my dad. Now granted, he is a couple of years younger than my uncle, but only a couple. He plays football on Monday nights with a big group of men (& I play with him). On Wednesday nights he plays in a huge 35+ comp. I'm not old enough to play there. On Thursdays, he trains my team. Now when I say train, I don't mean stands around and yells instructions, I means gets in there and does everything we do. He plays in the game at the end of training and has been brought down in tackles on numerous occasions. He has had surgery on both knees, two shattered wrists, a broken ankle, a shattered cheek, numerous broken toes, memory loss and more strains, sprains and muscle tears than he could possibly count. But he still plays, he still loves it and he regrets absolutely nothing. He loves football - the light of his life.

So what do I do? I love football. I am still on a high from our 1-0 win on Saturday. In a way, I wear my knee bandage as a badge of honour. The only reason I got hurt is because I went in for a hard tackle to stop a goal. The only reason I cared so much about the result is because I love my football team. And the only reason I love my football team so much is because I have never met a group of 16 girls who are as accepting, fun-loving and supportive as my team.

Samantha, football star.

I played football when I was about six but I hated getting up early (see 'Ambition > Talent') so I gave it up for gymnastics which was on a weekday afternoon. I started up again when I was 12 and played on the boys team with three other girls. Those girls were all friends and were horrible to me. Absolutely horrible. At the end of the season, QSF told me I couldn't play with the boys anymore and would have to join a women's team. With those three bitches. So I quit again. In high school I wouldn't join the football teams because none of my friends would. I finally sucked it up and joined by myself in grade 11 and 12. I enjoyed it but the girls weren't that nice to me. Dad came to every single game when no other parent showed up to even a single one. That's just what football means to my family. At this time, I also played on a men's commercial league team with my dad. Each Friday night I would lace up my boots and march out there to play - the only girl - small for my age & inevitably with blonde pigtails. My team sent me out as captain. The general consensus was you had to be 17 and a male to play. I was 15 and a girl. But when someone finally challenged this, no definitive rule could be found & I was allowed to continue playing. I've played on men's six-a-side comps, men's indoor football comps and in other tournaments.

Last year, my cousin mentioned she was signing up for another season with her football team. She asked me why I didn't play with her. I told her I categorically refused to play with girls after my recent experiences. I was hesitant but she insisted they were absolutely lovely. Finally, I caved. Dad - ever the football fan - came to my first training session. By the end of the hour he'd been asked to be assistant coach. My cousin was right. The group of girls was amazing. Breathtaking. Lovely. Funny. Warm. There aren't enough adjectives. I love those girls - every one of them. As someone who has been judged, treated poorly and deemed 'weird' her whole life, I feel accepted. I've made friends. And I get to play football every week with my friends. And my dad. He's now our coach.

I think I just answered my own question, didn't I? I love my football team too much to quit. I love the time I spend each Monday night with my dad. I don't see me ever giving up the sport I love so much. Even if it means I won't be able to walk in 25 years time.

I have a football team.

I have friends.

Miss SAMawdsley xx

Questions:

• What do you love most in the world?
• What would you sacrifice to do that thing?