Monthly Archives: December 2012

Old Year’s End

Good grief! It’s Sunday! Sorry folks, the Christmas festivities, for one reason and another, have actually extended this late and sort of made all the days bleed together into one long episode of festiveness.

However, now I am returned, and, in honour of my new iPad technology (courtesy of Christmas), I am using it to write this entire post. Which may or may not turn out to be a tad slower than the usual process, but I’ll have to assess that at the end. Right now it’s not going half badly: I’m watching Blackadder at the same time, for a start.

Anyway! To the subject of this post: New Year’s resolutions. It’s hardly an original topic to the average reader, I’m sure, but to me it actually is an unusual occurrence. I’m not one for New Year’s resolutions typically. In fact, for the last few years, my New Year’s resolution, when asked, has been not to make any resolutions. This year, though, I’ve lots to be resolute about and am unusually enthusiastic to make some life changes and stick to them. This is why resolutions should be rare, see? You can’t get to be sceptical with yourself so quickly when you aren’t breaking them annually!

So, here we go. My resolutions for 2013:

1. Give 200% to this internship. It’s the opportunity of a lifetime and I’m going to give it my all.

2. Finish the book I started last term at college. It’s a damn good idea and there is utterly no reason why I shouldn’t finish it this year.

3. Start an exercise regime and improve my diet. Time to get physically active, tone up and eat better. I might learn to meditate, too. Bring on the health kick.

4. Read at least one book per month. The last couple of months have allowed me to get back into reading (thank you, long train journey to Bath…) and I really want to keep it up, get to know more authors and acquire some more influences on my own writing style.

5. Learn to drive. I’m almost there technically. It’s time to think about my tests and finally start operating a vehicle without supervision. My menace rating could skyrocket to a proud and hardy twelve out of ten when I pass. Every girl’s dream…

So, 2012 is almost over and I’m soon to find myself another year into my golden decade of twentysomething-ness. Time to embrace being a grown-up! And, hey, this iPad posting is working out pretty darn well thus far!

The End of the Wor…king Week

Christmas is a time of love and niceness and other such clichés, so I am not going to make any barbs about the Mayan calendar.  Other than the title of this post.

I am sure you will all continue to sense an underlying garnish of sarcasm to my words but that is because I am British.  I can’t help it; I was born this way.  In fact, I maintain that all British people should have a sticker on their cars featuring a man with a pointy tongue spitting acid so that everybody knows a permanent sardonic tone is actually a social impairment which cannot be turned off.  But I digress.

So, in order to demonstrate some Christmas goodwill, I am going to talk to you about something which had really happened to me by the end of the working week.  That’s right: I am attempting to retract the jab in the title.  No catch.  So, here it is.  Enjoy it; it will probably never happen again:

What’s happened is that the dentist and I have pooled our wisdom and concluded my wisdom should be removed.  Wisdom tooth, that is.  As of two days ago, my first new chomper in over ten years has gone rogue and is now digging quite unpleasantly into my jaw muscle because there is no room at the metaphorical inn that is my gum.  Until its highly anticipated exile from my mouth, this enamel treachery has resulted in three dire consequences:

  1. I am now on two lots of antibiotics, one of which apparently gifts me with a spectacularly violent adverse reaction to even a drop of alcohol.  As such, I cannot break into my box of chocolate liqueurs or my birthday box of whiskies for at least another week.
  2. Conveniently, the limit to my jaw movement is just enough that I can no longer eat a Ferrero Rocher, my staple Christmas chocolate.  Late this morning, I had to actually take out a knife and cut one in half in order to make it manageable for me to eat.  It was truly a pitiful affair.
  3. The meds intermittently render my brain a squishy ball of cotton wool whilst the pain itself has nested like a warm nagging hedgehog in my left ear.

All of these problems, of course, pale in comparison to the procedure itself, which I am sure will be awash with tie-dye kittens and candy-flavoured flowers and gingerbread houses with free Wi-Fi.

Still, I have five hundred words of my Christmas carol story now on paper.  One good thing.  I fear it has deviated from the original plan insofar that I appear to have forgotten the ‘carol’ part of the task but, hey, at least it has words in it now.  Turns out I do actually have four bits and pieces to produce for the group, too, but I have until 24th January to pull it all together.  Tons of time.

Oh, wait.  Says here the Christmas thing is meant to actually make people laugh.

…Interesting.  I’ll, uh…  I’ll have to work something out for that.

Anyway!  Merry Christmas, one and all!  Drink your beverages and munch your chocolate, and think of me with my Diet Coke and pots of strawberry jelly.


I will keep my victory dance to a modest bum shuffle and head bop for the sake of politeness and good British decency.  But I did get it.  Yay!  Just got to dot some Is and cross some Ts in the paperwork department and I’ll start sometime in the New Year.  So happy!  Merry Christmas indeed!

And what a Christmas!  It feels like it’s crept up on me this year but, somehow, I have all my presents a week in advance.  I’m not positive how.  Perhaps it’s one of those sci-fi/thriller storylines where I’m having blackouts and being mind controlled, waking up with more and more shopping bags as my handler steers me towards a rare state of festive readiness.

Meanwhile I need to write that Christmas carol story for the writing group.  The plot has now completely changed to something more straightforward.  Essentially I’ve simplified it because the more I researched the harder it became to glue together the setting, characters and situation I had intended.  Instead I took my research in a completely different direction and got a touch preoccupied with the traditional local carol singing which takes place in pubs across Sheffield.  Given that Sheffield’s close to my heart I’ve decided to use that as the new basis for my story.  Christmas is all about heart, after all.

Well!  I’d better get a move on!

Nearly there, folks!

Good grief!  Several hours of research, writing and editing later and my article for this magazine is almost ready to fly electronically to the desk of an editor to be judged.  With a final read-through I can put the finishing touches on it… and then think relentlessly about what the frig I’ll wear to my interview.

I’ve really enjoyed rising to the challenge this week but I’ll still be glad to have sent it off.  Not just because it’s a box ticked and brings a feeling of achievement .  It’s also because my class and group have both ended for the Christmas period.  I feel edgy, like I need to write some fiction.  I need my fix, man!

It’s actually quite nice to feel that way, though.  Not nice that I’m fidgeting like a drug addict; just nice to know it’s in my bones now.  Finally writing has gone from being a passing activity to being some kind of creepy, unsettling addiction.  It means I’ll always keep busy and always keep adding to my portfolio – whether I like it or not (and writing tends to be 99% “or not” by definition).  I feel like I’ve got the bug and that I’m growing up.  Two good things.

I’ll let you know how the interview goes whenever I can, but expect delays as I’m seeing friends and family from Thursday until Saturday.  (Don’t worry, it’s just fallen that way. I’m not arrogant enough to organise a four-day ‘Got the Job’ rave party weeks in advance.)

Fingers crossed!