hello, 2012

I have already broke one of my new year's resolutions. I'll give you a clue. Probably nearly every ample-thighed/bottomed woman in the country, scratch that, in the world, will have made this resolution.

Yes, it is only the 2nd day of the year, and I have broke my diet (if you're reading mother, read diet as 'healthy eating plan'). It all started so well. I even decided to start this resolution one day early- on new year's eve.

I cooked a huge stir fry, you know, to line my stomach prior to the abuse I was planning to inflict upon my liver during the new year celebrations. A wholesome, healthy, cabbage and beansprout based stirfry. With sticky chinese plum sauce. And a whole packet of udon noodles. And sweet and sour chicken in batter. OK, maybe it wasn't that healthy after all. At least I tried!

But, today I well and truly messed it up. Fish and chips for tea, and toblerone afterwards. No amount of mushy peas could constitute that meal as being remotely healthy. Who am I kidding? I have zero self-control when it comes to food. Someone who chooses lettuce over chocolatey gooey goodness is quite frankly abnormal.

So I'm thinking it's probably wise to make resolutions I can actually keep. How about...I'll join the gym? It's only £100 for student membership, which entitles you to unlimited use and classes. Wow! Now that's great deal.

Upon reflection, DEFINITELY not.

I'll go once, which will be the week I join, perhaps even the day I join if I'm feeling extra optimistic. Actually, that would be really unlikely. The last time I felt remotely optimistic was when I was 5 years old.

A hazy summers evening, just chillin' on the porch with a glass of lemonade with my sister. And then we heard it.

THE ICECREAM VAN!

So I ran inside and shook a 10p piece from my piggy bank. Sprinting to the icecream van, I handed over my 10p to the young bespectacled Italian girl behind the counter, anticipating my 10p mix-up.

"A 10p mix-up please," I angelically chimed, beaming up all optimistic and rosy cheeked. I handed the girl my money, and her mother handed me my mix up in return.

The moment I opened up my goody bag, all of my optimism and faith in humanity was instantly obliterated.

Lying pitifully in the corner of the crumpled paper bag was a singular pink shrimp. I shit you not. No foam eggs, white mice, pink and blue fizzy bottles, golf-ball bubblies. Nothing. One shitty fucking pink shrimp. I paid 10p for one pink shrimp. At the age of 5, I had been conned for the first time, and I had instantly been turned into a pessimist.

I pleaded with the girl and her mother, and insisted they gave me the wrong mix-up. But in their broken English, they said they didn't understand me and refused to acknowledge me, looking over my blonde curly head as they served the older children their Magnums and Zap lollies.

And so they drove off, leaving me sobbing on the kerb. Heartbroken, with only a pink shrimp and my sister for company. I think I dropped the shrimp down the drain I was that furious.

Anyway, back to the point.

Picture this - me kitted out in brand-new gym wear (budget an extra £50 for this) feeling like a complete gym-virgin and quite frankly a huge twat in my illuminous white brand-new trainers and white wanker socks. The thought of a 20 minute stint on a running machine costing me £100 is just too painful. And sweat-smudged mascara is never a good look.

I think the most sensible, and realistic resolutions are those that are based around the things I know that have made me happier than in ever in 2011. And so here they are...

1. Never ever forget to make time for my friends. Hos before bros, sisters over misters.

2. Appreciate my family each and every day. It's surprising how many brownie points you can earn from just offering to make everyone a cuppa.

3. Get a taxi home from town when my feet start hurting. Too much alcohol + high-heel tortured feet always results in tears.

4. Tinkle the ivories at least once a week. My keyboard is probably my most prized possession (self-taught, since the age of 9), so losing the ability to play would be like losing a part of myself.

5. Never, ever give up. In all aspects of my life.

And so that's it, and that's all until next time. I'm too pooped to think of a witty way to conclude this post.

Bon nuit mes amis x