Monday, 31 December 2012
My dear companion 2012...
I can barely believe that the time has come for me to bid a fond farewell to you already. It seems like only yesterday that I woke up on day one of our beautiful relationship, bursting with hundreds of resolutions that I was to forget all about by day four. Give up alcohol? Stop eating like a ravenous boar? What the devil was I thinking?!
I'm a firm believer that life is one long learning curve, and this year has certainly been no exception. I've learnt many-a-fine-thing; clearly that I'm not too brilliant at honouring my resolutions, that my best friend makes a hideously awful Cupid, that you can be 'exceptional' in an interview and still not get the job, and that I am incapable of walking beneath a night sky and not gazing up at it. I have also become particularly talented at gleefully star-fishing my bed in a onesie, laughing at moments where it is not socially acceptable to laugh, and staring in a lecherous manner at any man who has sprouted an impressive mass of beardy goodness. Oh, I do love a good beard. I will work on taming that one, I promise.
There have been moments of deliriousness, happiness, hysterical laughter, grumpiness, sadness, and obsessive marmite eating. Though I never thought I'd find myself writing this, the Olympics were definitely my ultimate highlight. I never expected that I would spend every available second of my free time glued to BBC coverage, but apparently I have the well-loved sofa, and the hysterical tweets to prove it. In fact, I refrained from attending at least twelve social events throughout the Olympic fortnight, purely because I just couldn't bare to miss out on any of the magic. I laughed, I cried, and I excitedly threw myself into the air to punch the sky (aka the lampshade) on many occasions. I sat on the edge of my seat in painful anticipation, I shrieked with joy, and I even attempted the high jump in my front room. I shared in delight, and in devastation, and I witnessed sporting brilliance from start to finish. Jay zeus and javelins; it was a momentous occasion that made our Britain great again, and it was an absolute privilege to be a part of it. The whole event exceeded all of my expectations, and then lapped them. Fourteen times. Can we go back in time and do it all again? Pretty please?
I also saw 'Madness' live with Daddy B, started my hysterical, amusing, and particularly long-winded attempt at learning to drive (walrus on crack, anyone?), and spent a good couple of weeks engrossing myself in the sadomasochistic world of 'Fifty Shades', trying to determine what all the fuss was about. As a cheap thrill on a mediocre Thursday, I can confirm that it worked, but I will never understand how Christian Grey's twitchy palm surpassed Harry Potter as the fastest selling book of all time. Serious, serious bonkerism and crimes against literature. I much prefer those fine wizardly folk.
I investigated Internet Dating and found myself presented with various wonky penis photos that I had absolutely no desire to see, got forced into a double date at the fair with a man who suffered a very amusing emotional breakdown on the ferris wheel, developed a whole lot of love for Miranda Hart, took a stroll down the real Diagon Alley, thoroughly analysed the technicalities of waving with a fairly awesome manfriend, doubled the height of my antique book tower, had a bit of a 'One Day' moment upon an epic hill in Portsmouth, played poker on the train with a bunch of strangers, walked into a door whilst gazing at a particularly dashing man (low moment), enjoyed at least two minutes looking at pictures of a very naked Prince Harry, and spent endless hours sitting by the sea in a wonky hat, scrawling my heart out.
2012 has been a pretty good year for my writing. I now have two books well underway, and although I don't feel as if I've achieved anything vastly spectacular, it's been a cracking year for creative ideas, and I can't wait to explore them properly over the next few months. I have also continued to blog with brutal honestly about the beautiful chaos that is life, and I've made a fair few people chuckle along the way. A lovely French man even described this blog as 'the best UK contribution to humankind since Doctor Who', which I was pretty impressed with. Knowing that there are people mad enough to actually read my blog is the most invaluable feeling in the world, and I am bloody excited to ensure that I heartily waffle on throughout 2013 in the same undignified manner. Tatty-bo-jang. Chuckle.
2012, you have helped me to grow in confidence (great for me, not-so-great for those that have to put up with me...), helped me to value the most important things in life, given me some incredibly odd and hysterical memories, and once again blessed me with the ability to enthusiastically gallop into the sea naked and not get caught/arrested for indecent exposure.
I cannot wait to get stuck into 2013, try new things, visit new places, make new friends, experience the giddy euphoria of first dates with new men, continue to chase my planet-sized ambitions, and of course, spend endless evenings drinking good whisky with my fine chums, contemplating the universe.
It's been a pleasure.
PS: I would like to take this opportunity to wish every single one of you a New Year filled with love, laughter, happiness, and all things fine and wonderful. Thank you so much to all of my readers; you bestow upon me a certain kind of confidence that I know I would never have if you didn't exist, and my gratitude for that knows no bounds. Allow me to give you a cuddle and buy you a drink.
PPS: A very special thanks to my incredible family, my best chumfolk, and the beautiful, hilarious and distinctively odd girls at the office. The year would have been less magical without you guys. Also, to every single human being I ever did meet. You inspire me every single day.