Festive Friends.

Hello strangers, it’s been a while hasn’t it. So long in fact that I had forgotten my password. I had to contact my babe who kindly reminded me of it, so you should all thank her for the goodness your eyes are about to read. Something about a strawberry anyone? So anyway yeah, having finally logged in and returning to my blog I find cobwebs and a genuwine tumbleweed rolling around. Not. Impressed.

Let’s get the juice out the way, since last speaking I have (and in no particular order… ) Shopped. Gossiped. Laughed. Drunk. Danced. Shopped some more. Got Married. Quickly followed that up with a divorce. Drunk hot chocolate. Dribbled over Dermot. Paused X Factor on Dermot’s face. Licked the tv screen. Wished I was Dermot’s wife. Tweeted. Been tweeted BY Dermot. Left uni. Graduated. Hiccupped. Sneezed. Yawned. Went to London. Thought I was going to The X Factor, when really I was being taken out for dinner. Sulked because of this. Made a snowman. Read Heat magazine. Laughed at myself. Watched Nativity over 20 times. Munched my way through several boxes of Festive Friends with my babe. Been given my own mini Christmas tree from Phoebs to decorate seeing as my own mother, the woman who gave birth to me, still, after 21 flipping years, doesn’t trust me enough to let me touch ours. Oh no God forbid anyone apart from her touches the tree, it’s so extreme that everyone must evacuate the house and not return until she has sculpted it perfectly and how she wants it. She can be such a scrooge. I rebelled and moved a bauble earlier. She noticed within 20 minutes. Fml. I bought some shoes. Bought two Christmas presents. Both of which are for Jazpups. Broken my phone. Cried because I did so. Cursed Orange and T Mobile to the moon and back. Sipped on some Rum Punch. Fell out with Hannah. Slut. Wanted to go to New York. Wished I was capable of saving money so I could go to London. Rekindled a few relationships. Ordered my bridesmaid dress. Had several Ned’s and wish he would just eff off out of my life forever. He is not wanted. Said I was going to buy some hi-tops, and no one believed I would. Bought some hi-tops. Gold and pink ones to be exact. Walked around like Cher Lloyd. Went to a work Christmas party. Don’t remember any of it. Probably a good thing. Received quite a few bouquets of flowers. FYI I’d prefer the cash/a new pair of shoes. Sparkled some sparklers. Gone blonde. IMO they have the same amount of fun as brunettes. And lastly had an amazing/important/exciting/jolly/extraordinary/funny/possibly life changing phone call which prompted me to write this blog...

And breatheeeeeeeeee.

Phew. So today is (well at the time of typing it’s the 22nd December, however by the time this is published it’ll be the 23rd knowing me, anyway I digress) we are approximately 3/2/1 days away (depending on when I actually post this) and to be fair, I’m really not feeling Christmassy at all this year. Not sure why. The decs are up. The advent calendar has been eaten. (All of it. In one go. On the 1st of December...) The cards have been received. The presents have taken their place under the perfectly constructed tree, which under no circumstances may be touched. *Yes. Sir. Sorry, I mean Mum.* The festive films have been on tv. Which I have happily watched. Yet I am still not feeling festive, really, at all. I fear this may just mean that I am *shudder* Growing. Up. *sick in mouth* Oh sweet Mother of Jesus please have mercy on me. I may as well blaady ask Santa for anti-wrinkle cream, a zimmer frame and a hearing aid for Christmas this year.

I miss the days when I would get excited about the next Christmas on Boxing Day morning. When after my Birthday (in May) the countdown to Christmas officially began. When I was taken to see Santa and I could sit on his lap and ask him for hundreds of presents without looking like a deluded weirdo. Don’t judge me. I miss making paper chains at school on the last week before we split up for the Christmas holidays. I miss the annual Christmas party where everyone had to bring in an item of food. I miss being so excited that I couldn’t sleep and genuinely believing that this year would be the year I’d finally be able to stay awake and see Santa, but always falling asleep just before he came. Sigh. I miss opening my bedroom door and seeing a sack full of presents. Stuff those poxy stockings, I had a sack. Suck me. I miss going downstairs and seeing a half eaten carrot and an empty can of Pepsi and a half eaten chocolate bar. Mum and Dad always said Santa would get bored of all the mince pies and milk from other children so I should leave something different…

Now a days I only get a stocking and its filled with really pointless stuff that my mum will then go on to complain about in the following weeks “Em, clean all that clutter off your dressing table.” “Err, Mum you bought me that ‘clutter’ and stuffed it in my stocking you moron. Fill my stocking with shoes next year and quit your moaning. Thank you.” Sadly I now get more excited about people opening my presents I’ve got them rather than what they’ve got me. Every year my mum huffs how I always buy everything myself and I leave her with nothing to buy me. Technically that isn’t true Mum, I want a penthouse apartment in New York, I haven’t bought that yet have I? Hop to it, please. Then comes Christmas dinner. This is normally spewed up pretty much straight after consumption due to a horrific hangover after a messy night out on Christmas Eve. The rest of the day is a blur after guzzling Bucks Fizz, Champers and whatever other alcoholic beverage is on offer. Oh, and the obligatory scoffing of Roses/Miniature Heroes/Quality Streets obviously occurs. Then comes the turkey sandwich around 10pm. Standard procedure. Don’t get me wrong I love Christmas, I just miss the buzz you got as a kid, but hey, you can’t have it all... So long as I get that apartment on 5th Ave you won’t hear me complaining this year.

I think I’m going to leave it there for now Blogette’s. It’s been fun, I for one have enjoyed myself. Hopefully you feel the same. Not bothered if you don’t, as I was told today to “Write for me. Write because you want to. Write because you’re good at it.” So that is exactly what I have done. I may pop back tomorrow. I may not. I might be busy with an alcoholic beverage/variety of. So if I’m not back before Christmas I'd like to wish you all a very merry one. I hope the presents are good, the food is scrumptious and the hangovers are hideous, because, let’s face it: the worse the hangover, the better the night before!

Goodnight xo

P.S. Just a little someink’ someink’ to leave you with - Christmas. The magical time of year where you can scream "hoe hoe hoe" at slutty strangers and innocently claim that you were "being festive". I plan to take full advantage tomorrow and Friday night.