2012

Its pretty staggering to think how different my life was this time last year.

Christmas is now done and gone - a wonderfully relaxed and peaceful week - so much so it was a tremendous effort to make myself come back to London. Every day I would procrastinate ' just one more day, just one more day' safely cocooned in quiet suburbia, eating and drinking like a queen, cuddling the beautiful dog and hanging out with my siblings watching endless films. Yesterday saw the first sunshine in well over a week which was enough incentive to put on a bra and come back to the city. I dumped my shit and made my way to catford for a freaking delicious roast dinner with liz, nic, erica and dean. Of course I did get caught by a train station attendant furiously yanbking up my new tights which had made their way south. I also fell up Liz's stairwell, smashing a bottle of wine and soaking the carpet. And as a technical fifth wheel to two couples, as i sat shoving giant pieces of toblerone in my mouth, I did start to look back at my year, and wonder if next year, would I still be single? God Bridget.

My year started off great. A party at my favourite local pub, and then in mid january , a delicious long holiday in our own castle in scotland with my parents and boyfriend. Of course, the joy was short lived and back in reality with empty bank accounts and that horrible january grey depression, my 3 and a half year relationship went kaput. It was a tough time and at first, I was pretty lost. I dont want to say I lost my identity in the relationship because that would be very unfair, however I was left wildly thrashing about in my head of what the fuck I would do next.

My aunt and uncle let me move in with them - a bloody godsend - and i put myself back together. I realised this was my last full year in my 20s, and i wasnt going to spend it crying under a duvet and watching steel magnolias. So I started making myself go out more.

And with that, I then made some fucking amazing new friends. It wasnt that i disliked my job before, but i never really bothered with that many people. Well, more fool me, for i wasted an entire year. I am really really grateful for the awesome people i now get to hang out with, not only at work, not only after work, but in my own time as well. When I looked at my facebook review of the year, i was shocked to see I had 63 new friends this year. And thats when i realised how many new people are in my life that were not in 2011. Special obvious shout outs to erica, dean, mountain, martin, tina, rou, matty and mark, among many others.

I also made the move back into London. Talk about knocking ten years off my life. No longer shackled to the curse of leaving the party to run for the last train back to essex, i moved to bethnal/stepney green with felicity and lois. The entire flat looks like a vintage explosion and I love it. This has also pushed me into going out more - markets, musuems, galleries, bars.

When I look back, i cant believe how fast this year has flown. a photo update is needed i think.

So ims itting here, in my room in london, getting ready to go out, and wondering just how different i am from last year.

Theres a great philosophical thinker: if you have a boat, and you replace a bit of the boat with something new, its still the same boat. but if you took the whole boat down and rebuilt it with new pieces in one go - then its a new boat. But what happens when you piece by piece, add something new? When does that boat become something different?

Get busy living, or get busy dying.

 It seems like summer was only yesterday, when I was hanging out in golden square park on my lunch break, sitting by the open windows of a bar supping a strawberry cider or hanging out at midnight with Irish at spoons with no jacket. I dont remember what its like to see alot of people in daylight. So, heres hoping that the miserable three months that kick off 2013 fly by so we can hit spring running. Ive been looking back alot over 2012 and despite a pretty spectacular fail of a February, the rest has been, dare i say it, one of the best yet? We will hold that thought for next week.

So whats been going on? ALOT. December has been darn tootin busy with social activities! Here are some highlights.

Most of the usual crowd and I headed off to some pub north for oxford street for a pub quiz where I assured myself that consolation of realising im actually pretty thick would come in the form of free chips and wine. 

Of course we all soon turned on each other furiously arguing about the answers. But mainly it was these two!

My team at work were then invited to a one of our firm of Solicitors parties. I was really excited, mostly because I knew it would be swanky AND an open bar.

We rolled up in our finest and started knocking back the champagne whilst I tried to avoid any kind of social interaction with men in suits and stared at the beautiful view of London from the 28th floor of the Millbank Tower,

Things soon turned pretty ugly and before long the room had emptied out and we were still sat drinking. Time to leave!  Dean and I staggered down to Embankment and I made it home and a not unreasonable 11.30pm

Somehow then also ended up out on the friday but it was with three of my favourite Londoners so who was I to complain?

More free drinks - sucking on the teat of our solicitors expense account. This was less refined than the other work drinks. Knocked back wine, jack daniels, jager, and other strange and wonderful concoctions  There was inappropriate touching, fighting, vomiting, and then the realisation it was 1am and i needed to leave. now. The walk from picadilly to oxford circus took forever and i stopped midway to have a not inconspicuous pee on carnaby street. Nightbus, home, weird man in my kitchen. remove key from bedroom door.

I woke up saturday, chucked up, ordered alot of pizza and decided i needed to be where there was central heating so i chucked some stuff in my bag and headed back to essex to lay on my mums sofa watching shit tv with the dog.

A few weeks ago we booked a voucher on dealcloud for two burgers two chips two drinks for a fiver. BARGZ! its usually pretty difficult to get folk out mid month let alone mid month december, however a group of ten of us all caught a bus to Angel where we walked the back streets, inhaling the freezing winter air that smelt like fireplaces and singing songs from Oliver!, However, on arrival to our destination, smiles soon faded as we rocked up in what resembled an empty working mans club in Sheffield in the 80s. There wasnt even ten chairs and it smelt alot like chip pans. The bemused looking man behind the bar told us, after seeing our vouchers, that they only offered that deal on mondays wednesdays thursdays fridays saturdays and sundays,. But not, erm, today. We agged about with him, pissed off until he relented and said he could probably knock us some food together. No thanks. We all left pretty sharpish to a beautiful pub ( arent they all in Angel?) and then a couple of us went for some delicious mexican food.

I caught the bus home, having one of those ' I love London' moments, noting how in the thick fog it felt not unlike a Dickens book, taking my time walking down the back streets of east london til i saw a tramp getting a blow job from a hooker who gagged and vomited and he ejaculated in her hair. Dark.

Last year I didnt really enjoy the work christmas party. For a start, I was friends with say oh...two people. And one of them was my sisters boyfriend. Secondly I turned up late as my morning appointment ran late. I looked like shit, I drank a bunch of wine and went home at five.
This year would be different. I would wear a proper dress, and LARK! I am friends with actual real people at work. I came in my hair in rollers covered from the elements in a silk scarf. Yes, I may have been mocked, but there was a girl in the office wearing giant pink rollers lik a footballers wife and when she took hers out, all her curls flopped. I WIN.
We went to cafe de paris, ate alot of teeny tiny food, drank some not so teeny glasses of wine, and somehow me and bruce ended up dancing on stage . Shameful. I dont overly remember getting to the after party but I do know that for once, I was not the most badly behaved. Yes, there may have been several embarassing dance moves/ conversations and yes, I may have got to embankment and laid on the floor to have a think about where i could have put my oyster card but considering some of the things ive said and done before on work outings, I consider this a rather refined success.

Ok I didnt say I was totally dignified did I?

And heres just some december pics cos im to lazy to write much more

Stepney Green

New favourite vintage dress

Oh. Only two. 

I also broke my Havester virginity - heres mum with a pint of icecream and cream. Total winning.

Being good and staying home

Ive been rather TOO well behaved of late. That, and I really cannot be bothered leaving my room when its just wet, and suddenly freezing, and miserable. Productive Saturdays have all but blown out of the window.  Instead I am starting to enter hibernation mode, stay home, get straight into bed, and watch Netflix. This, understandably, does not make for particularly thrilling blog entries.

But thats to say I have thrown all hope of a social life away entirely. Of course I have still been going out for ' just one drink' and five hours later passing out fully clothed on my bed.

There has been fierce debates by the dudes and wearing out my tastecard at Pizza Express. And if fifty per cent wasnt enough, Dean put half the tableware in my bag. Naughty.

I started to get a little socially fatigued at Gem this past Friday. Bruce and I sat nursing out free drinks like spoilt kids, bored shitless. Every Friday at work we listen to Kiss FM which essentially plays a megamix that I can pretty much time my watch to. They play So Solid Crew, and then Fresh Prince of Bel Air, and then Kriss Kross. You get the drift. I started to feel like I was trapped in Groundhog Day; it could have been any Friday in the past year. And then I would end up in Gem, listening to the same songs, drinking the same pink wine. URGH. Thank god my friends are at least interesting to talk to eh?

On Sunday me Erica and Rebecca had a little mooch around Spitilfields and Petticoat Lane, where you can essentially buy clothes from Primark, Topshop and Newlook for cheaps. Oh, and apparently, Tesco, where I brought my coat from last year

77

We were only out or a few hours (read: broke as, and it was cold) but its nice to break up a day that would have otherwise been spent in bed with eyes on a screen to get out, get a coffee and a cupcake and do what girls do best: bitch about people we know.

That said, I did come home, eat a pizza and drink cider watching tv. Well....it WAS a Sunday.

So a product of me being at home is actually applying myself to a creative project. I have been bending Alastairs ear for some time, getting him to read my work and give his (brutally honest) opinion when he told me of a site he and his friend have set up called Black Milk - they take new and interesting writers, illustrators, photographers, you name it, and publish their work. Well, apparently I am both new and interesting as Al said he would publish a story if I wrote one. CUE/; MELTDOWN.

I have written on and off for years, but never finished anything, and certainly never showed anyone. Putting my pride to one side, I knocked out a story thats been in my head for some time. Well, chapter 1 at least. The Irish, Erica and Al all helped and encouraged me and it went up on the site last wednesday. its pretty scary having a piece of fiction up - its feels different from crappy blog writing. People will judge you more. Anyway, I since got over that fear. Judge away by clicking here

 If the Carnaby Street christmas decorations dedicated to the Rolling Stones new album wasnt enough, I have just clocked that Oxford Street is sponsored by Marmite. Christmas just died.

Last night I went out with The Irish in Shoreditch where I stupidly matched him beer for beer. What an amateur mistake. I woke up this morning still drunk and couldnt get up for a few hours without my head spinning. Still, excellent night, even if there are huge gaps in my memory- how did I get home again?

Im not sure why he thought he could hide behind a lampost.

The next few weeks look set to be busy: two events on Friday, pub quiz, two sets of christmas drinks with the solicitors, something called bongo bingo, birthday party, christmas parties...yikes. I best detox my liver in preparation!

Sometimes you just need to go home

Ive had one of those weeks that just makes me realise how much I love living in London. Its strange; I lived here before as a student and despised it to the point i pretty much went home every single weekend without fail. I always said no whenever friends suggested I moved back.. I didnt want to, I loved living in Southend, leaving my job behind at 5pm and travelling out of the city.  Moving back into town was a literal spur of the minute decision when Felicity found a flat in here and offered me the chance to move in. I was planning on spending the summer with my aunt and uncle before getting my own (probably shithole) place in Essex and for some reason I went against the grain of my very being and was impulsive and came back. And it was the greatest thing I have ever done. So much so that when Michelle asked if I would get a flat back in Essex with her, I told her in no uncertain terms that I was staying put in London.

On wednesday I bummed about Primark with Erica to witness her shopping skills first hand ( terrifyingly efficient) before meeting Dean and Liz at the Banana Tree in Soho. I slurped mango and peach bellini and gobbled thai street food until I hit the food wall halfway through and left erica to finish my plate. two courses and a started, £15. Thanks tastecard!

On the walk down to Embankment I remarked: ' I dont know who I am today. I am not finishing meals, I am wearing pastels, and there are no holes in my tights. I dont recognise myself!' to which Erica blurted ' Its Halloween!'

Speaking of holey tights, they started a rather interesting conversation with my manager and H.R this week. Confused? You should be. Apparently laddered tights are a sign of a mental health breakdown. The less said about that the better.

I enjoyed a wonderous walk home that Halloween under the pale moonlight of East London and felt rather self satisfied and smug.

On Thursday I dragged EV and DD to Whitechapel for a sale at the East London Thrift Store. A quick bite to eat before we faced the throngs of aggressive hipsters grabbing £1 dresses. I made the amateur mistake of taking a free glass of wine which did not leave me with the two hands I desperaty needed to pull through the rails, so I downed it and shoved the \( not entirely empty) glass into my bag before grabbing as much as I could carry before running past the EV edit ' yes no, no, no, yes, no, no' and came away with two new thrift store bargs,

Ive always had a rather complicated and occasionally violent relationship with fashion. I dont read fashion magazines or have a clue whats in style. I have always been influenced by peers, scenes and music and film. Over the last few years my looks have varied - I had the Liza Minelli in Cabaret stage, the stage I only dressed in red white and black in homage to the white stripes, the hipster goth look for Interpol - corsets and pencil skirts and fitted jackets, the victoriana goth look, the karen o/ electroclash look ( plastic earings, drawing on my eyes with fluorescent marker pen, bowl cut fringe). These looks have always been aided by the fact I detest spending what little money I have on clothing. Ive wondered slightly directionless for a while, but I guess you could say my latest look is Warpaint (above). a 90s victorian I guess. And the discovery of the thrift store and dresses on the cheap has definitely opened my horizon of things i wouldnt normally try.

On Friday I took my tired ass home to Basildon as Mum was going away for the weekend. There I did nothing but lay with my dog in bed on the sofa watching shit on Sky and eating too much food that I need.It was so relaxing! The rain came hard onto the windows, and there i stayed snuggled 

with this ridiculous animal. I love her.

I also did have some time to drink a ridiculous amount of labrini and kir royal with my sister and indulge in a little posey shoot which we used to do pretty much every weekend a few years ago. If anything its quite interesting to see how and if time has changed out faces

this is us in 2006

and this is us a whole six years later.

We danced around the living room to the best of the 80s classics and woke up with sore heads and a hangover only junk and chinese food could fix.

I came back to London fully relaxed, refreshed, about half a stone heavier AND with fudge that my mum brought back from devon. Total wins!

My beautiful neighbourhood

Tonight the pub I live above had a ' fireworks party'. By this I mean six of the local blokes brought a huge box of fireworks, the pub put some packet sausage rolls on the bar and we were witness to some shocking fragant disregard for health and safety. Felicity Lois and I made some sausages and hot rolls and curly fries, and downed our respective drinks ready to enjoy the fireworks from our decking. What we got was our eyebrows almost singed off, our stairwell almost set on fire and a new healthy respect for the power of explosives. The men were letting the fireworks off from the picnic tables in out tiny beer garden out of empty bottles.

Then this happened

EXPLOSION!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

And then those bright sparks ( pun intended) nailed a catherine wheel to our stairwell and much like apes in a zoo, kept hitting it with an inlot rocket when it did nothing but smoke rather than spin. Thats ok guys. Its just my stairwell. The thing I need to use to get in and out of my flat.

My nerves were shot to shit after this and I made haste to Bow to meet the Irish to drink wine and watch him write shit for his new play.

 we debated hard about technology in music before retreating to his for tea, bakewell tarts, politics and then staring up at the constellations that are somehow burning their way through the London street light pollution.

And now I have realised I need to get up for work in four hours.

Bye!