Finally. This year is coming to a close.
Could it have been more dramatic and terrifying? Non, je ne pense pas. Here’s a few…highlights for lack of a better word:
- Four year anniversary with that bloke I live with this Friday – 1460 days since I first plucked up the courage to invite him for a drink after the Haslemere carol service. Yup, ROMANCE. Slightly cheapened by the fact that I then got trashed on pitchers at Spoons but we’ve never looked back.
- Got a new job of course. Probably the biggest deal of my LIFE let alone this year. Becoming a proper, fully-fledged copywriter for a seriously creative team has been a massive step for me, and I’m incredibly grateful. Also very grateful to all the other people who have paid me to write words for them this year.
- I discovered platform creepers. The most comfortable and awesome heels in the world, which give me long legs for no pain. It’s been a game changer.
- Went on my first plane-worthy business trip. To Glasgow. But still.
- Saw Fleetwood Mac and WEPT at the sheer beauty of such a spiritual experience. I will never forget it. In the words of Mick Fleetwood: “Our lady. Our poet. Stevie Nicks”.
- One of my favourite people in the world gave birth to a girl child. At home, with no pain killers. Which makes me almost as proud as the fact that Aria is the most intelligent, happy and active baby I’ve ever met. Oh, joyful year of that little bunny face!
- I got a smartphone, finally. See also: Grownup Laptop Bag. Add to that managing to call my bank to sort out a problem (only last week, admittedly), paying self-employment tax and finally putting money on my swipecard to buy coffee at work – and you’ve got a very different girl from this time last year.
- I developed a blushing problem. This is why I hesitated to use the word ‘highlights’. This is most definitely a lowlight, if you will. I have self-diagnosed Imposter Syndrome and written the issue off as a confidence shift activated by the new job. Please tell me I’m right and that it will go away. There’s nothing as humiliating as trying to say your intelligent and useful piece in a meeting with pink cheeks. People tell me it’s cute and endearing but seriously: who the hell wants to be cute and endearing in the dog-eat-dog Hunger Games that is a global marketing organisation?
- I went to Rome. The difference between my receptibility (or lack of) as a 17 year old and my pure WONDER as a 24 year old is remarkable. I thought I observed and absorbed everything back then but I was wrong. Rome was utterly incredible and I saw things I’d either forgotten or looked straight past as I made a beeline for Dolce & Gabbana.
- I really, REALLY threw myself into dressing however I want. 100%. Every day. I like to think I’ve found a good balance of grownup shirts and bow ties, pencil skirts and Harry Potter T-shirts.
- I kept my glorious sofa red wine stain and fag burn-free for an entire year, which is an immense achievement considering the things that go on in our house. I don’t want to jinx this with Christmas mayhem just round the corner, but WELL DONE US.
- I went out. To things. With PEOPLE. I saw jazz, drank cocktails, went to an art show (and bought art), danced on the beach, got up on stage, had a business dinner, and generally did a bit of life.
- I didn’t get a job I cried and shook and sweated over. But I got to the last two applicants and learned some things – and it’s just as well I didn’t get it really, isn’t it? I didn’t want to be a technical sector PR copywriter anyway and ended up with a much better salary in the end.
- I discovered new music and developed hilarious musical obsessions with Phil. Like Chaka Khan (probably listened to Ain’t Nobody around 1000 times over two months). And Celine Dion.
So that’s my year as a list. Now get me some oven-baked party snacks and a mojito, stat.