New Year, Same Me (Again)

Processed with VSCO with a5 presetA female Doctor, a crazed President, pregnant Kardashians, engaged royals and a partridge in a pear tree- 2017 has been, I’m pleased to say, absolutely mad. 9 Greys Anatomy episodes, 5 solo One Direction albums, and one trip to a pig farm later I am pretty content with how this year has rounded off. This year I finished my first year of Uni, moved into a house with my best friends, performed in some of the shows I am most proud of, and had plenty of time to party. 2017 might have been a bit of a dodgy year for mankind in general, but on a personal level (back at it again with some classic millennial narcissism) it’s been pretty brilliant.

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Moving into a new house hasn’t been without it’s quarrels.  I’ve learnt more about football than I ever wanted to (ask me what the offside rule is, we’ll have a chat), I’ve cleaned up more beard trimmings than would be ideal and oh. my. goodness. you would not believe the amount of wee that ends up on the floor. Mostly though, living off campus has been a dream. The 6:3 boy to girl ratio is sometimes a struggle (note the aforementioned wee on the floor), but I still cried at Christmas dinner when I tried to say how much I loved them all. 36 Second Av- you’ve absolutely made 2017 for me. My resolution house-wise is to nag less about the washing up (although I’m hoping my housemates might resolve to actually do their washing up) and to spend as much time as is humanly possible, as much time as they’ll let me, with the boys before we make the split into gals and guys houses next year.

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It’s also been another year of complete and utter airheadedness from me, and while I continue to endeavour to change, I think it’s a part of me that I’m just going to have to accept. 2017 might have begun with a shiny iPhone 7, but it wasn’t long (the first night out of Spring Term- pitiful, I know) before that ended up face down in the James College loos- not even 3 days in rice could bring salvation. iPhone #2 almost met it’s peril during a trip to the good old West Country, where it was stolen from a train station and allegedly sold for 100 quid over a pint before being reluctantly returned by a family (honestly, the whole family) of travellers. It was a pretty wild ride, as you can imagine. A final feat of idiocy came when I left my purse in the back of an Uber, complete with 200 pounds in cash, my debit card and all forms of ID to my name. True to form, an existential crisis ensued as I cancelled my card and reported it to the police. In an utterly miraculous turn of events, a girl visiting family in York got in contact with me on Facebook (the 102nd Megan Williams she’d contacted, or something) and returned the purse just as I left it- people have a funny way of surprising you in the most amazing ways!

IMG_3735.JPG2018 started last night on a beautiful white yacht (could I *be* any more of an expat brat), with some of my best IMG_3733friends. We watched fireworks through the rain, started the year with McNuggets and fell asleep watching New Years Eve. I hope the year that follows is exactly like that- a little bit of extra and a lot of comfort. I will not be giving up avocado’s to save for a house and I probably won’t manage to cut out Coke (a-Cola, thank you), but I do want to keep up the positive vibes, keep loving myself and my friends and GET. STUFF. DONE. When I check back next New Year, it’ll ideally be after a snazzy summer internship (pray for me), a suitable Second Year grade and loads more fun with my beautiful friends and beautiful family. IMG_3732I’m grateful for where I am and excited about where I’m going. Happy New Year everyone!


New Year, Same Me

A lot of the talk surrounding the New Year seems to centre around resolution and hopes for the future, but, when I think about going into 2017, I am drawn inevitably back to how last year began for me- waking up in between my parents, in my dress from the night before, covered in mud and dry tears (real classy). 2016 and I got off to a rocky start- both metaphorically and literally, as it turns out, seeing that I spent it in the mountains (ha ha), but somehow it set the tone for an unbelievable year.

Jan 1st, 2016

The last night of 2015, for me, began with a glass of champagne in my left hand while my right linked with my mum’s for us to shoot tequila. We were skiing in France with some of the most fun family friends we know, and our big party seemed intent on drinking Club Med dry of red wine and vodka cokes, and being the worst and loudest dancers within the whole of Europe- properly ringing in the New Year is serious business and not for the faint of heart. Perhaps inevitably, everyone was having a fantastic evening- so fantastic that I was only mildly embarrassed when my dad started teaching everyone the beyond cringey moves he and his friends used to “get girls” at Uni. Having not long been 18 (and being a lifetime member of the swot club that prevented me from going near a club until I was actually of age), excited doesn’t begin to cover how I felt leaving the hotel after the 2016 fireworks to head to a club.

So, when a French man in a, far too tight, Ralph polo waved a smashed iPhone in my face, it didn’t for a second cross my mind that it might have belonged to me. Of course, it did belong to me. I shouldn’t have been surprised, seeing that I am both a serial phone-smasher and general klutz, but still I felt my heart drop like a stone at the thought of having to tell my parents (on the dawn of a New Year, no less) that I’d once again done one of those “but Dad, I didn’t mean to!” things that constituted a reputation in my family I have never quite been able to shake. Strike 1, 2016. However, I was excited enough about the New Year and the cringey but brilliant music in the French club to not care too much about my smithereen-ed screen. Until, that is, when 2016 threw me another curveball after I’d said goodnight to my friends back at the hotel.

I am my mothers daughter, which means I CRY. At happy movies, at sad books, at particularly emotional songs and, as it would happen, when I am locked out of my room, still feeling the effects of the aforementioned tequila, at 4am in Val D’Isere. The inherent hopelessness I seem to possess stretches from breaking phones to picking up the wrong keys, apparently. Standing outside my door, fumbling with a key that was not even close to fitting in the lock, I realised quite quickly that I’d managed to take a key to my parents room (who had retired from the celebrations hours before) rather than to my own. Strike 2, 2016. And so came the waterworks. I really can only imagine how pathetic I looked, sat in that (sort of grimy) corridor with my red dress and muddy converse, mulling over my doom. I was sure I’d be in new depths of trouble should I use my parents key and wake them from their prosecco induced dreams, but as it would seem, I had little choice in the matter if I didn’t want to spend the night curled up on the, questionably maroon, Club Med carpets.

Strike 3 was the simultaneous high and low point of the evening, which was when I kicked off my converse (effectively leaving them for dead at this point, the mud and snow had claimed them as an innocent victim) and climbed into bed in between my stirring parents. If you looked past my, probably too short, red dress and mascara I may as well have been 5 years old again as they sleepily wiped away my tears and offered some mumbly words of comfort. In any case, that is how I ended up waking up for my New Years Day ski school with glitter stains across my cheeks, a smashed phone in my hand, very muddy legs (which remain unexplained) and some pretty confused parents.

True to it’s humble beginnings, 2016 followed in a year of my hopelessness (we won’t bring up the amount of missed trains, it’s still hard for my Dad to hear about), some serious cold weather (the snowy, sunny cold of the French Alps doesn’t quite compare to the drizzly chill of York though) and definitely a fair few tears. Without a doubt though, I would say that 2016 has been one of the best years of my life, despite even the fact that One Direction broke up (still hanging on for a reunion). From the moment I graduated, it has been a whirlwind of the most consecutive great times I have ever experienced, and I can only hope that will continue into 2017, although I intend to drink slightly less Coke and watch slightly less TV.

I hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas and that 2017 is a great year for you all. Thank you for reading.

Pre-disaster, NYE 2015