It's 2016 and I will be blogging again! Yes, yes I will.
Here is a quick recap of 2015, because my posts were very thin on the ground last year. I'm not doing every month though. The month of February for example, is a complete write-off. I can't remember it at all. I was either very drunk throughout, or spent the whole month asleep.
My friend Jess had a baby!
And I caught The Boyfriend Train at long last, although a more apt description would be 'invited The Boyfriend Train into my bed'.
Did I tell you how that all happened, have I blogged about it already? Last year, I moved into his room and he moved out. He was still friends with Mon so came round quite a lot. I quite liked him, but we never ended up on nights out together and it is quite hard to make something happen when you are sitting the living room with five other people watching TV.
I remember one night actually, when Phil was going to sleep on the sofa like he sometimes did, and Mon went to bed. We watched TV together for a little bit and it was the first time we had been together alone. Thinking back now, it seems strange that we weren't boyfriend and girlfriend. I can't imagine sitting next to him and not being his girlfriend.
I casually mentioned to Mon that if I were to, er, get to know any of her male friends better, it would be Big Phil (as I called him back then, because everyone else did). In a moment of madness I said that she could mention it to him (it was her suggestion, after she told me I was acting very fidgety and seemed very highly-strung and I confessed it was because I hadn't had a romantic entanglement, or even a non-romantic bed sheet entangling, for months and months). He was very embarrassed and thought it was some kind of trick, but a few days later when he was drunk, he said to Mon that he wouldn't be adverse to you know what with you know who*.
When I heard that, I plotted in a rather sinister way to 'get him' at the next social event. The next social event happened to be Mon's birthday. He ended up back at ours and we were talking for ages and ages, mostly about a girl he'd met on Tinder but that was my fault - I brought up a guy I had met recently, my one and only Tinder date, because I was trying to think of something to talk about.
I kept asking him sly questions like 'Will you sleep on the couch tonight?' and 'Is it weird sleeping on the couch, instead of in your old bed?' and eventually, as the sun had come up and I was running out of time (like a witch cursed to turn into stone at the break of dawn), I said 'You don't have to sleep on the couch you can sleep in my bed with me.'
He has since said that until the moment we kissed he wasn't sure if I was being really kind and letting him sleep in my bed with me in a platonic way, or if I had invited him up for jiggery pokery...
And that's how it started. It's not a story I would tell my gran, but there you go.
Went to Paris for Kayt's 30th birthday, and saw a large tramp rolling around in a cardboard box with his willy out. Also, me and person-I-travel-on-The-Boyfriend-Train-with became 'official'. Or 'started going steady', if you're American. And living in the 1950s.
Beth got married! It was a lovely ceremony in Islington Town Hall, then red buses took us to the reception in a pub. Fun fact: I had impetigo on one side of my nose and had to stand sideways on every photo. I also went to Budapest with Posh Clare - we didn't have one argument! We saw baby orangutans and had to run away from a taxi driver, who took us to a petrol station in the middle of nowhere and tried to rip us off.
I went to Barcelona to see Bonobo with my boyfriend. I'm not sure why I can't mention his name on here but it feels a bit weird. I've already said it on here, anyway. He's called Phil. As is my mum's boyfriend. And my Aunty's husband, my Uncle Phil. And my gran's husband, my grandad. We sure do like a Phil!
Ooh! Lauren just knocked on my door with two slices of freshly-baked chocolate cake. I need a cup of tea now to go with them.
*FIVE MINUTES LATER*
I saw the Alexander McQueen exhibition at the V&A and I loved it. There are so many pieces he created that trickled down to the mass market, I had no idea. Dark denim jeans, bleached white down the middle - I had a pair like that when I was about 11. Jackets printed with renaissance-style, religious iconography on - I remember seeing these styles on market stalls and in magazines. All started with McQueen.
I went to my cousin Chloë's Blessingway in the lakes, a gathering to bring her luck and 'bless the way' for a smooth birth. Everyone brought flowers and beads, which we added to a headdress and two bracelets. The mums there told stories of when they gave birth, and we painted Chloë's belly with henna. Me and Phil went up for a few days (there were no men allowed at the Blessingway, so Phil said he would walk around Windermere for the afternoon. He was so worried that when we arrived, he changed his trousers behind my mum's car in the street, in case his male energy disrupted the Blessingway magic.)
On my actual birthday we went for dinner in Manchester with my family, Kayt and Adam and Amy and Chris. (We went to Volta in West Disdsbury - I thought the food and wine were excellent, but it was too pricey for what it was. The three vegetarians we had with is didn't think much of the vegge dishes, either.) A few days later when we were back in London, Phil threw me a surprise party in Victoria Park and I was SO SURPRISED. I had a big spot in the middle of my head which I would have covered up more, had I known I would be meeting a whole group people and not just Lauren. That is the only downside to surprise parties.
On my birthday my mum posted this photo of me on Facebook, which proves I have always loved cats to the MAX.
Chloë's baby was born on the 13th - Aurora Rose. She is such a lovely, smiley baby! Other landmark: I moved out of my house in Bethnal Green/Whitechapel. I really loved living with Mon, but they were putting the rent up and we just couldn't afford to stay there. I moved in with Lauren, Ben and Jen, a bit further east. This is the fourth place I've lived in since moving to London two years ago, and I am enjoying it a lot.
For Phil's birthday on the 13th, I cut out words and phrases from old books and turned them into a piece of art and I planned a nice day out for the two of us. It was my first 'Boyfriend's Birthday', ever. I actually started stressing out about it a few months earlier. In the end I thought a homemade present and a day out would be nicer than a bought present (I am pretty terrible at choosing presents). We went for lunch at a Argentinian restaurant on Broadway Market - I would recommend it. We had the mixed grill, which was huge and very meaty. Then we went for drinks in the old ale pub next door, and later we went to the Top Secret Comedy Club in Soho.
The Monday after, we went to Amshterdam. (I can't say it without doing a bad impression of a Dutch person.) It was wet, windy and weed-y. We only went for two days, so I definitely need to go again. I can't believe how pretty the houses are. It's so cute and little, it reminds me of Paris in that there are so many lovely buildings and leafy streets to wander down.
We didn't see any disgusting 'aubergine popping out you-know-where' shows, but we did have a look at a €2-a-go peep show. You stepped in off the street and entered a little booth, one of eight surrounding a small room. There was a door to each booth, and a glass window once you were inside, which was dark. When you put the coin in, the glass became transparent and you could see a stripper in the middle on a rotating bed.
I'll be honest, I thought we would see people having sex in the middle. There was a poster saying that's what was inside the booth and I was really curious...
But it was just a woman writhing around in tacky underwear. When the lights came up in our booth and she saw me and Phil, she climbed across the bed and started wriggling her fandango against the glass.
Right, I think I will blog about December in another post. At least I have flexed my blogging skills again.
I will now leave you with my most listened to track of 2015, according to Spotify My Year in Music. Needless to say, it's not from 2015...
*Me, not Lord Voldermort. He hasn't even read Harry Potter, and doesn't want to... I know! Maybe I should start reading them to him while he is sleeping. And he will start shouting LUMOS as he turns on lights, and he won't know why.