I like this exercise. However I don’t like looking back and realising all the good intentions for the year got washed away in a bath of red wine and reality TV.
Nicole’s 2007 in 24 words:
Diet. Old friend fallout (relief!!!) Make ginourmous plans- (dance, yoga, writing, exercise) do zip. New job. Visa! Stu and I find(ing our way. Diet.
A for Alcoholic or S for Stupid.
Plan was to order a take away.
I was hungry at 5 and didn’t feel like dealing with watching the door like a hawk (our door bell is broken) decided to go meet Preston and we would go to the BBC and have a glass of wine and tapas.
Kitchen was nearly closed so we decided on two large glasses of red each there then went to Dish Dash for yummy Persian food and shared a bottle of red.
Jen mentioned that this was her New Years Eve since she has to work the 31st.
Foolishly we decide to keep drinking after dinner at The Bedford. I think we had three pints.
Came home. Jen thinks it would be funny if we went up to Stu and my room in our shoes and jump up and down on the bed to wind up Stuart. I get to the door, push- Stuart pushes the door closed and my pinky gets jammed. I scream. When we see that it hasn’t fallen off and that we are thwarted in our attack upon Young we decide the best course of action is to open another bottle of red.
Didn’t go to bed until 5 am.
I will be doing it all again today.
Went to the beach today. Watched dolphins and sandpipers and pelicans dive bomb for fish.
Played frisby (badly). Sat on a blanket and drank cold bottles of Sam Adams.
There are at least five things I can think about my life right this moment that I would change if I had the benefit of a genie or a magic wand. But I went to the beach today and walked barefoot in the sand and the air was warmish and the sky was robins egg blue so I can almost forget about the things I would change if I could.
Almost.
Woke up to this headline in the NY Times.
One of my old tirades against the sexism in America used to be , “Even Pakistan has had a female Prime Minister.”
Pakistan is a different place than it was ten- fifteen years ago and I know she wasn’t perfect. . . but goddammit.
I hope that you have a wonderful and relaxing day with friends and family.
I managed to pack the few gifts and clothing in a carry on bag and I have tested to see if my purse fits in it. It does.
I rule.
-I hope they don’t weigh it.
Stuart and I are flying to Charleston for Christmas this morning. (I have still not packed. Bad Nicole)
Not sure how Internet accessible I will be the next week- but I hope that you all have a wonderful holiday!
Drinks out after work.
Was a lot of fun. However, some things discovered during this drinks out with mates session.
1. Good to find out that other people you respect and think are lovely are as freaky as you.
2. Bad when there are a few too many drinks and certain people say certain things that make you feel rather ridiculous and stupid and small.
3. Is a bit horrible pretending you are a put together mentally stable individual when you deep down are a fucking desperate mess wondering when you will have time to pack for Christmas.
4. A kebab does solve all.
I think I have all my stuff for work sorted. . . the only thing I have to do before I go to my parent’s house tomorrow is pack.
And stress about money. But I will think about that tomorrow.
I don’t know why, but I never liked the idea of mince pie. I think it’s the name. It made me think of meat even though I knew it wasn’t meat.
For some reason today I tried a few of the mince pies that have been floating around the office and I love it. It’s sort of like a fig newton- but different. . .
Now I just need to try some figgy pudding.
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All words © Nicole Thomas unless otherwise credited.
Not that I think that anyone would be silly enough to steal my ramblings, but in case you may be thinking about it. . . the very act of my writing this means that I own the copyright. Really. Look it up.
So, please don't plagiarize. It just ain't cool. And what I say just isn't that interesting. Trust me. Most of my friends don't even read this.
That being said, I do subscribe to the T.S. Eliot philosophy of "Immature poets borrow, mature poets steal." There is a difference between Stealing and stealing. . . This is not to say that I am mature. If anything. . . I'm rambling aren't I? That's what I do. I ramble. So, yeah. I'll shut up now.
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