Did I mention here, I am not very huggy really, but I hugged Tom Scola in NYC last month and he is a truly excellent hugger. Like, it was really comforting to hug him, and I am not very huggy.

Karl is like that. But I would happily hug Scola and compare, if he would like. I don't always enjoy that kind of thing either, either because I'm not comfortable, or maybe some people aren't good at it?

Attending lots of SF conventions in the South in my youth has made me okay with the hugging. You wanna hug, I'll hug ya. You don' wanna hug, that's totally cool too. I will never be the one making the first move, though.

I am an impulsive hugger. I hug everyone. I try really hard to remember who, in the past, has said they are NOT huggers, but I don't always remember and then I spend a very long time beating myself up about hugging someone who doesn't like being hugged and how DARE I get into their space when they didn't want it and what kind of shitty, selfish person am I, anyway?

It's totally craxy.

Scola gives good hug. I can vouch for this.

Before I die (or before I have sex for the last time), I have to wander out into a shared space outside where we just had sex, wearing his button down shirt and smiling smugly.

If he lives alone, this might require picking up his mail, but whatever it takes. I have to live that cliche.

I'm pretty sure Scola tried to psych me out on hugging last time I saw him. Just because I'm not a hugger!

I am currently wearing a t-shirt I wore home from a guy's place. Many years ago.

My parents were good parents but their paternal grandmothers were total bitches.

Seriously the only thing I heard nice about either of them is that my dad's grandmother was a good cook. Mom didn't want to be called Mom because that's what everyone called her grandmother. And "Mom" didn't have nice connotations. For example my grandfather visited "Mom" every evening. No matter what, he'd always go over and make sure she was okay and spend some time with her.

Except sometimes he'd go over and she wouldn't be there. She'd take a cab to the hospital because she wasn't sure if he'd come to check on her and she felt sick and didn't want to die alone.

Dad's paternal grandmother was just mean and petty and she'd totter along, clinging to someone, barely able to walk, complaining while she did about how frail she was and how hard it was to walk, etc. And then if she saw something or someone that interested her she'd let go and walk briskly to whatever it was.

Then when she was bored to go back to her "woe is me, I'm practically a cripple" routine.

I'm with a shirt I got when hanging out with a guy, long time ago. It's not his shirt, but the restauranteur gave us one both.

I imagine he doesn't still have it. NSYNC, call me!

I am with Aimee. I usually hug, and try to remember who doesn't, but am not always good at that.