The blog is back…

…Probably temporarily. 

I’m in a contemplative mood today and was going to write a rambling, self-indulgent Facebook status about it, but then realised that it was too long for Facebook so I’d write a rambling, self-indulgent blog post about it instead.  Thanks for your patience in advance.

Last year was a brilliant one in many ways, but my platelet probs kept rearing their ugly head and I haven’t been well the past few weeks either so had been feeling a tad glum.  (Get the violins out, will ya?!)  However, today I left the house for the first time since Tuesday and spent the evening at my nan’s.  She told a few stories that made me realise that, really, I’ve got nothing to whinge about at all, and made me look forward to the year ahead with renewed relish.

She talked about her brother who died at the age of 18 – he died of pneumonia a few days after going swimming in a freezing cold lake on a roasting hot day; he had a tumour on his lung that nobody knew about.  She mentioned that her “school” days mainly consisted of going to a neighbour’s house one day a week to learn the basics.  And she spoke of her sister and brother being evacuated during the war – “Did you miss them Nan?” “Dunno.”  HOWLING.

I’ve heard these stories before, but only today did I realise that all of the above are things that we almost certainly will never ever have to experience.  Her brother’s lung problems would probably have already been detected and treated if it was happening in 2016 and not in the 1930s.  Going to school is something that we have all just taken for granted.  And imagine kids being evacuated anywhere now?! “OH I’M NOT GOING ANYWHERE WITHOUT ME MUM/ME PHONE/SKY PLUS/A DECENT JUST EAT DELIVERY CHOICE.”  (Or is that just me?)

I left my nan’s feeling all inspired and like I should be cartwheeling down the road screaming “SEIZE THE DAY!” to anyone and everyone I met.  I settled for making a list instead (and oh, how we love a list) of how I am going to spend my time wisely this year.  (Also I can’t cartwheel so that would never have been an option anyway.)  (Also I turn 30 this year AND LIFE IS TOO SHORT.)

1.  Go to more gigs.  I used to go to loads but the past few years this has tailed off.  Why?  Not entirely sure.  But so far I’ve secured tickets to Father John Misty, Little Mix (YEAH YOU ‘EARD) and Sound City.  So I am doing quite well with this one already.  WELL DONE ME.

2.  Learn to drive.  Me and the 10 bus…it’s been emotional, it’s not me, it’s most definitely you.

3.  Resurrect my blog.  Again, this appears to be going well so far.

4.  Travel.  The furthest I’ve been is Cyprus, for God’s sake.  There’s a whole world out there and I’ve seen approximately 0.00064% of it.  MUST.  ADDRESS.

5.  Lose weight.  I put on two stone over the summer and now everything beautiful in Zara and Topshop is off limits. (Granted, the issue may also be that the aforementioned shops only stock clothes for tiny people, but still.)

6. Win a gold medal in Rio.  But that’s been a work in progress for four years, so definitely won’t be a problem. 

What should I give up for Lent?

Terrifyingly, it’s March already. Seriously, where did that creep up on us from? It is basically nearly Christmas again already and I for one feel rather discombobulated.

It also happens to be Shrove Tuesday or Pancake Tuesday or whatever the hell you want to call it. (Sidenote: I’ve just remembered that, because our Helen was born on a Pancake Tuesday, I thought her birthday would always be on a Pancake Tuesday. Bless. Not the brightest bulb in the box…) I’m not a fan of the ol’ pancake, which I am aware leaves me in the minority, but they make me gag – too sweet! Too *shudder* flaccid! I’d rather, as ever, have some ham. Or chicken. Or sausages. Mmmm.

Obviously, this also means Lent starts tomorrow which has had me a-ponderin’ all morning. Should I give something up this Lent? Usually, as with New Year’s resolutions, I hilariously* state that I’m “giving up giving things up.” And I’m sure you can all remember how long I lasted on the wagon for Dry January. But I want to set myself a challenge, despite my laughable lack of willpower. I fleetingly toyed with the idea of giving up meat, but then realised that I would basically be solely surviving off bread and wine, which, although fittingly Biblical, would not be good for the waistline.

Julia is giving up alcohol (save for a week-long disclaimer which, in my eyes, is perfectly legitimate.) Scouse Bird Problems is, quite brilliantly, giving up gobshites, which is a great idea, but I’d find it difficult to break the habit of a lifetime overnight. And so I need some inspiration. Give me some ideas, dear blog readers, and I’ll see if I’m up to the challenge. Hopefully I’ll last longer than the frankly pathetic nine days of Dry January…

*not funny at all. On a par with “anything else I can help you with?” “Well, the winning lottery numbers would be nice ROFL.” Kill me. Kill me now.

January only has 17 days in it, right?

I feel the need to come clean to you, my dear blog readers. In news that will come as a shock to precisely no one, I am going to have an alcoholic beverage tonight and I am going to enjoy it. Sorry.

Come to think of it, I’d failed by the 9th; a trip to visit my friend Helen and her beautiful baby Katie started with Helen offering me a drink on arrival. I protested “But I’m doing dry Jan…oh go on then.” As you can see, my willpower isn’t the best.

I’m consoling myself with the knowledge that a. I have drunk far less than I usually would have done three weekends into the month and b. white wine just tastes so good, so it’d be rude not to. I feel guilty now. But I’m predicting that this will disappear two glasses in.

Cheers y’all!


Yeah I know it doesn’t quite rhyme. But I’m sticking with it!

After a particularly punishing festive season for the ol’ liver, culminating in a New Year’s Eve which basically saw me refusing to leave Jenna’s house (sorry Jenna), I’ve decided to have a stab at dry January. Naturally, as my love of wine is well-documented, this declaration has been met by snorts of derision from many corners. O ye of little faith!

To be fair to all the doubters, their lack of faith is probably due to my lack of willpower (also well-documented.) However, what many people sometimes forget is that I never used to drink. (I know, I know – it’s hard to believe.) I was not a sanctimonious teetotaller then and I’m not planning on being one now. (Sidenote – surely sanctimonious teetotallers have to be amongst the most irritating creatures on the planet?) I am feeling positive, it’ll save me some pennies and, for once, I believe that my willpower will last!

Obviously I may be singing from a different hymn sheet about how easy this challenge is after a week in work dealing with people who, shall we say, test my patience. But we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.

P.S I will not be counting 31st January as part of dry January. I’m out with work. Sorry.