Another year gone. Whoosh. Done. Basta. Sorted. See you, 2007. It was swell.
Another year of trying to keep to resolutions I drunkenly made to myself exactly 12 months ago. They went something like this...
7:02pm: I will never ever not put my children to bed. Never again will I let someone else do this miraculous, wonderful job. There is no better place than this, right now, kissing their tiny eyelids and reading them stories and snuggling them up and sniffing two sleepy necks. I don't care what comes along my most important job is putting them to bed at night.
7:18pm: I will never refuse my husband again. Sure, if he wants me to be an archaeologist from Portugal who has unfortunately lost her clipboard and her trousers, then why not? I will never take it for granted again that my husband finds me attractive after nine years, two children and four house moves.
8:12pm: I will never drop my friends' calls. Look at them all here in this bar with their sparkly dresses and their dry wits. Everything about them I completely adore they are just an addition to my magnificent family. If they call me and need me and I'm in Sainsbury's at the front of the queue I will step out of my stupid busy life and I will talk to them. Because friendship is everything and filling up six bags with rice cakes and getting to the car before the sulky woman on the next till is not vital.
8:35pm: I will never worry about my body again. I will revel in its curves and not give a flying toss if my whole torso starts to slowly drag down and get heftier. I will never again buy into some arsehole diet because I am a grown-up and I know that beauty comes from the inside and that super-skinny people are just miserable and starving anyway. I will have another serving of risotto and pass the jacket potatoes. Yippee. I am free and I love my thighs.
9:25pm: I will never forget that I like Baileys. I will, right now, proclaim a resolution to remind myself perhaps daily (well, not daily, but definitely weekly at least) that I absolutely adore Baileys. I like a massive glug of it in a low tumbler with a lot of ice. Baileys is the drink of kings and I don't give a monkey's what any wine snob says.
10:15pm: I will promise myself to dance more. I must always just simply dance. I am not old. No siree. Get me on that podium and let's move, for God's sake. I won a robotics championship in 1988, let's not forget. Dancing is not just for once a year with the girls. And I should definitely, definitely get a pole put somewhere in my house because I am working this hat stand a TREAT.
10:45pm: I must never never never not eat lunch to get into small New Year's Eve dress and only eat risotto and drink Baileys, because then I will feel very, very ick.
11:19pm: I will call my parents more. I don't ring them enough. I love them so much and I must, simply must call them more often. Once a day is just not enough, there's so much to say. So much to ask. I mean, I know nothing about our history. I can't just wait for the BBC to ask me to do Who Do You Think You Are? before I find out what happened to everyone. What were my great grandparents called? How selfish am I to wander about life only thinking of immediate family. Isn't it about time I got a grip on the past?
12:02pm: I solemnly promise to learn the words to "Auld Lang Syne" and I need to learn the words to Beyonc's "Crazy in Love".
And now, a year on, I can declare the following...
I got a job which meant I wasn't home at 7pm (sorry kids, but you know, the show is about dancing and I really really like it the celebrities do a quickstep and a jive. I'm sure you'll understand) and I haven't had a sip of Baileys because it reminds me of swaying to Lionel Ritchie and feeling a bit green. I love my friends but I (sometimes) drop their calls and I haven't danced (apart from in the shower and I'm not totally sure that counts). I speak to my parents no more often and I'm pretty sure one of my great grandfathers was a barber but I couldn't bet on it and I've tried the Malibu Beach diet, the Atkins diet and, in June, I sipped celery soup for five days straight. On the upside, I know Beyonc's "Crazy in Love" off by heart and "Maria" from Lisbon is alive and well.
Não se pode ter todo (well, you can't have everything).Reuse content