Well twentyeighteen disappeared into thin air didn’t it? Seems like just yesterday I was in a cottage in Wales bringing in the new year and writing last year’s version of this post. (I guess we’ll make it a tradition.) I was so full of hope and just, quite frankly, desperate for change and a chance to breathe after a shocking twentyseventeen. And you know what? It wasn’t a bad year. I’d say the positive definitely fought to be heard louder than the negative and I was very happy about that. I learnt a lot about myself, as I think you should aim to do every year. Lifelong learner and all that. There were days when I didn’t want to get out of bed. There were days when my heart was so full I thought it would burst. From joy. And from grief. There was lots of tears but maybe a few more smiles. My years will always be tinged with some sadness and thoughts of what could have been but won’t. But I’m still a kid, right? I don’t want to stop living. So I’m working on the perfect cocktail of misery and ecstasy. That’s the best I can do for now.

But let’s focus on fucking fun for a sec. Here are the boss things twentyeighteen brought me: I met my best mate and the boy I wouldn’t mind spending every day with; went to a prosecco party in Norwich; ate my body weight in vegan mac and cheese in Glasgow; saw Wicked at the Empire; had a gin crawl in Liverpool; went to Dublin, then went to Dublin, then went to Dublin again; had drunken sleepovers; went on two boozey cruises filled with ska on the Thames; sang Hamilton all around the Lakes; saw Legally Blonde at the Empire; danced to reggae in the Baltic Triangle; went to a casino and won fifty quid at black jack; went to Lake Fucking Como for my sister’s 30th; gave blood; ran away to Wales for the weekend; ate so many olives; saw Franz Ferdinand and The Cribs at a warehouse in Manchester; watched all the Rocky movies; floated around County Clare for a week sipping Guinness and being constantly blown away by the views; saw the Terracotta Warriors on their visit to Liverpool; turned a quarter of a century, yikes; played a lot of Mario Kart; saw a hundred women sing together at St George’s Hall; saw Liquidiation turn a quarter of a century; drank too many cocktails back in Norwich; went for a spa day with my boy; got blind day drunk with my work kids for Christmas; ate and drank and read my way through Manchester with the boy; had a couple of afternoon teas with the family; went to the pinewoods a lot; fixed my phone screen (proud moment for me); read fifty books; ate so much good food; watched so many amazing movies; drank copious amounts of booze at some awesome watering holes; and just spent time with the coolest people a person could ever hope to know.

So yeah, it was pretty sound, I reckon. I’m feeling pretty grateful and optimistic moving into 2019.

What are my intentions for the year?

They’re pretty similar to last year. I want to continue to better myself. I’m still working on being present. I want to do yoga and meditate and journal and write and read and dance and eat and drink and just live. I plan to wake up each day thankful that I’m alive. I want to get uncomfortable and try new things. I also want to hide in my reading cave and not see humans for five days. I think I can manage both! I want to see sunrises and stargaze. I want to inhale lots of love in and exhale lots of love out. That’s an Adriene reference for any of you who know what’s up. But really I think it’s just a good way to live. Plus nineteen is my favourite number so twentynineteen fucking owes me.

It’s gonna be a good one. Can’t you feel it?

You Get What You Give – New Radicals

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