Years come in waves, undulating their way atop the days and the months, until before you know it you have to get used to a brand new arbitrary number at the end of things. 2011 – doesn’t that sound strange? 1st January 2011 – even stranger, especially when reflecting back on 2010.
It’s been an odd year. 2008 was dire. 2009 was fantastic. 2010, well, to say it’s been a rollercoaster is an understatement. It’s been more of a theme park, where the theme is a bipolar, schizophrenic rascal who keeps muddling life-type things around and then having a good old chuckle at me.
For those who care, here’s my year in review. Please accept that although this blog is a public space, it’s not always the best place to share. Apologies for being broad and cryptic, in places:
New Year’s Day in Jerusalem. Write my year’s ‘wish’ and place it in the Western Wall, with millions of others who regard this landmark as a symbol of hope. Have dubious feelings at the time. Get back from Israel. Miss Israel, or more specifically the friends I made. Realise quite quickly that everyone is keen to stay in touch, which most of us do, for the remainder of the year. Memorable quote: “Shiny thing make it all better…AND IT DO TELLY!” (Daily Mash)
Excessive nights out, including some pretty grim ones that have me questioning the relevance of Camden’s existence. Cardiff uni friends pay a visit. Fancy dress party: I fulfil lifelong dream of dressing as Cleopatra (heavy bangs, exposed flesh, massive accessories). Cinema with Jonathan Ross. Memorable quote: “Think of all those smug couples with cystitis: LOSERS.” (Miss ES)
Birthday month. Stellar birthday house party, blessed with the presence of great friends. Yet more birthdays (six or seven?). Belgium Eurostar visit: Brussels, Bruges. Each weekend is filled to the brim with yet more nights out. The year is starting to become very expensive. Memorable quote: I don’t have one. I was drunk.
Much-anticipated office move to Canary Wharf. Initially a fan of trying to navigate the labyrinthine shopping malls, slowly come to resent slow-walking suits and ridiculous bar culture. Begin insane gym regime (which is kept up until October and improves fitness and general health exponentially). In the audience for Piers Morgan’s Life Stories. Amsterdam for Queen’s Day. Bondage men in window, Vermeer-themed photography, mystery meat, rubik’s cube boy, herring, orange lollies and the awkward turtle. Incredible atmosphere and perfect company. Memorable quote: “Come buy cuddles.” (A street seller in Amsterdam)
Remainder of Amsterdam. Brother’s birthday. Cardiff visit and a return to my old student indie haunt Clwb Ifor Bach – oh how times have changed (although the bar staff haven’t, apparently). Stomp flip flops around Canary Wharf. Memorable quote: “Do you like skittles? Do you like vodka? Do you like skittled vodka?” (Mr CM)
Yet more parties, nights out. Piers Morgan remarries. A family member passes away. I experience a variety of odd reactions to grief. Have to Google my emotions in an attempt to understand them. It kinda helps. Long, painful, enlightening. Memorable quote: “How much can a fly eat?!” (My Dad’s extraordinary eulogy)
Picnics. Begin an obsession with Cherry Bakewell Tarts and London Fields. Karaoke night out. Memorable quote: “Outside temperature: 30 degrees. London Underground temperature: the sun.” (I can take credit for that one)
Longing for a summer holiday that only comes a couple of months down the line. Acquire decent tan through London park-dwelling. Corporate hospitality at the Emirates. Launch The Edible Editor. Memorable quote: “Cheryl soldiers on despite being dead.” (Daily Mash)
Work softball in Greenwich Park. Yet another house party at ours. A very strange but ever-powerful Kol Nidre. A friend from school gets married: the first of our friendship group. Begin to think we might be growing up. Take a punt on an off-the-wall night out, turns into something quite unexpected. Memorable quote: “Your age, what you do for a living and how much you earn don’t matter because they DON’T DEFINE WHO YOU ARE!” (Eccentric events organiser)
Tunisia for a much-needed break from it all. Return. London Eye. Stuart Silver’s tragic-comi night You Look Like Ants. Dress up as Marilyn Monroe for Halloween and attend the most ludicrously decadent party I’ve ever been to. Memorable quote: “I be your Tunisian boyfriend?” (Every Tunisian man)
Gigs. Fireworks, first in Lewes, then Cassiobury (as is tradition). Ice skating at Canary Wharf. Long weekend for boyfriend’s birthday. Memorable quote: “Basically I’m a part-time blogger and I design my own jewellery line, which is like a mix of religious iconography kind of with a Saved by the Bell vibe?” (Being a D***head’s Cool)
Office Christmas party. I behave more sensibly than last year. Second trip to Amsterdam, this time with company. Christmas dinner-type events. Rivers of mulled wine. Memorable quote (and a fitting one to end the year): “Oh if you knew what it meant to me / Anywhere but here.” (Dark Dark Dark)