Happy 2013 everyone!
I am shocked and appalled to report that I’ve slacked for so long that I’ve come back to WordPress and it’s ALL CHANGED. Seriously. I have no idea where anything is anymore… come back old simple silver version! Oh dear. I did mean to blog earlier, obviously, but I just couldn’t work out how. Yeah… that’s right… it’s all WordPress’s fault…
But seriously, it has been shocking of me. It seems to be a bit of a pattern that by the time we get to December, the year has well and truly kicked ass and there’s just not enough time/energy/impetus (it that how you spell that?) to do anything other than eat, drink, eat, and not sleep. I barely recall December now that I’m here in sober silent January, it all seems a bit of a haze. I do have a vague memory of a week where I managed 4 gym classes, 2 theatre trips, 5 parties, 3 Christmas lunches and a breakfast meeting. Safe to say, I staggered to the end of the month and buggered off to the furthest reaches of the Irish countryside to recuperate.
I’ve got a few interesting dates to write up, so I’ll be getting nostalgic over the next few weeks and harking back to the hazy days of late November to update you on those. Here’s a few tasty hints… one contains ‘cream tea and scones’, the other includes a cape. Seriously.
But for now, let us content ourselves with the general good feeling and purifying joy of January. Out with the old, in with the new, down with the wine, in with the cranberry juice. Welcome to the most depressing month of the year – the month that I annually choose to make that little bit worse by detoxing my brains out.
January began as all January’s should, with a bit of a hangover and a naughty breakfast – it’s a universally known fact that the January detox should never start until after breakfast. You may recall last year, Blondie, Irish and I buggered off the the Shire and spent the day in a spa, ate too many sandwiches and partied in a village pub with Nana Cortez. This year, Blondie bailed because she’s too fecking happy for words with her Perfect Match (barf), so Irish and I flew off to her homeland with her other English friend (yes, Irish has English friends other than me and Blondie – I was shocked too) for a week of good food (read: potatoes), great wine, amazing views, and the odd spot of mountain climbing. We started in Tipperary, which actually is a bloody long way from anywhere, where highlights included Ritzi’s first Rugby experience (C’mooooon Munster! Though I have to admit the Ulster boys were a bit fitter… sorry Irish), discovering a pub in Two Mile Borris that stayed open til 3am AND had a trampoline in the carpark, and an educational video about the Plague and other such pleasant historial things at the Rock of Cashel.
Then, we went an even longer way, and journeyed for many many hours to the furthest reaches of County Kerry, where we basically adventured for days. Honestly, just take my pocket handkercheif and call me Bilbo – it was awesome.
New years was spent in a quiet pub, with an Irish band seated beside us, complete with tin whistles and accordians, where we befriended a small child named Delia, who had come dressed as Santa.
The obligatory burning of bad things happened back in Ma Irish’s cottage on the dunes, and I have to say, my list was not quite as hideous as last year. It included:
- Turkey. Not all of Turkey of course but… well… this bit of Turkey.
- I sucked at blogging. It’s true, I did. I failed y’all, and you’re so darn pretty too.
- I did feck all with the 500 page manuscript sitting on my laptop.
- I didn’t get my ass into gear and fictionalise Ensemble Bingo like we all know I need to for sheer comedy and commercial value.
- I worked way too much.
The good things, however, also outweighed the good things of last year’s list:
- I took an Open University course. I did! And I was good! And it reminded me that I actually can form sentences and paragraphs and chapters about things other than my own exploits… and then I did nothing with it.
- I got nominated in the Cosmo awards again because my followers are awesome. As previously mentioned, I sucked at blogging, so I did not do this nomination justice. Sorry!
- I wangled 2 promotions and 2 payrises! So… although I may have worked a bit too much… it did provide me with the means to fund my Vivienne Westwood addiction.
- BLONDIE McFABULOUS MOVED INTO CASTLE CORTEZ. This is the best thing in the world. Newly christened Blitzi Mews is where it’s happ’nin’ yo.
- I got my ass skinny by becoming addicted to the gym. I now get up at 5.30am at least 4 days a week and bash out a doubler (pump and spin) on a Saturday morning.
- I went on an actual holiday, with the aforementioned flatmate, and despite one little glitch which we don’t speak of ever, had a marvellous experience on my first ever beach/pool holiday in an actual hot country! Hurrah!
And so finally, we come to the resolutions. I’m usually pretty good with these. Last year my resolutions were to
get my book published, be more sensible with boys, complete the OU fiction writing course, say no more often (to theatre and the like, don’t be base), to detox, and to get on top of my finances. WELL, aside from a few little glitches in the regions of Brighton and Marmaris, I’ve been much less of a twat about boys. Not sensible, I admit, but less of a twat. I didn’t mainline theatre every night of the week and therefore managed to make it to the end of each week and still manage a 7.30am body attack. And I consolidated all my drama school/world travel/high heels debt into one affordable monthly payment – ergo, on top of LIFE.
This year, I’m keeping it simple.
- Sort out that bloody manuscript. I’m on it already – many an evening has been spent tucked up in Starbucks in the last 2 weeks with a tax dodging berry spritzy thing and my laptop, editing and rewriting and honing. I’m giving myself until my birthday (so 6 months) to get that bad boy in order. It WILL be published, and I WILL be a younger JK Rowling with a better ass.
- Date. Better. I’m not wasting my time on this – either the love of my life is going to show up, or he isn’t. I shall apply the Lemon Law theory and bail if something seems fruitless in the early stages, and not lose sleep over a single manly soul. Internet dating is fun and passes the time (and gives me plenty of hilarity to impart to you lot) but my future husband is not an office manager from Croydon. He’s just not.
- Save money! Eton Boy pointed out to me that I’m a grown up with a real job and the potential to get a mortgage once I have a deposit saved. I’d never actually considered this before. I’ve upped my loan repayments, switched to annual travel (good lord that saves you a packet) and bring my lunch into the office like a good little spendthrift, instead of forking out for a Whole Foods salad box at £12 a pop. I’m still buying my yearly pair of Roxanne 7 skinnies come pay day mind you… a girl’s got her limits.
And so there you have it. It’s 2013, and I think it’s going to be a goodun. Work is good (or it will be in approximately five weeks when a long term pain in my ass is out of my life forever), life is good, and I’m feeling positive. Or maybe it’s just all those antioxidants…
And so, I shall leave you with this. The only folk who mock new years resolutioners are the folk who lack the balls to look back in a year and face up if they failed. Setting goals is healthy, and burning mistakes in an open fire at the end of a long 365 day struggle is too.
Happy new year!
PS – I take no credit for photos, all goes (surrupticiously) to Irish and Irish’s English friend GI Jane.