When I started blogging last year, it was for my own enjoyment. I love writing. I love that I can express how I feel, tell my side of the story, share my random experiences and do something that, well, makes me feel pretty damn proud.

Recently, the only writing I have been actively participating in has been long winded work emails and a monthly essential Boots shopping list (that  tends to be arm length, comes at a hefty price and leaves me vigorously reading over the receipt the second I leave the shop, praying I’ve been mistakenly charged for a bar of gold!)  I’ve really, really missed it. So, this is me, back in the game, going for gold, full steam ahead… move over, pitiful shopping lists and say hello to 2016. Game. On. Blog.

Since I’ve fallen off the bandwagon on the blog front this year, I thought it was about time I picked that dusty pen up, popped on my rusty thinking cap, search under my piles of Zara and Topshop ‘I don’t really need this but… oh my god, it should have been £100 reduced to £90, BARGIN!’ sale purchases, to find my trusty, red laptop that hasn’t had even the slightest sniff at a Starbucks for about 6 months. 

My 2015 was one of my best years I’ve ever had, a complete whirlwind from start to finish and I don’t think I stopped smiling the full time (well, when I watched my boyfriend fall in the fifth of forth in freezing temperatures on a stand up paddling lesson, it made me cry… with laughter!) It’s been a year of celebrating 30ths, weddings, babies and bumps… I really just haven’t had the opportunity to blog much. I mean, between all the gin guzzling and general party schmoozing, being in your pj’s, drinking tea and watching SATC in bed almost every week night, it’s just SO tiring doing nothing!

Oh, how I’ve neglected you, dear blog. I promise it won’t happen again. I’ll buy you a venti, with an extra caramel shot and big old fat brownie to make up for my abominable behaviour. We got ourselves a deal?

As well-known author Charlotte Bronte once proclaimed ‘I’m just going to write, because I cannot help it.’ And I agree, wholeheartedly. High 5 Char! Word! Amen to that, C-Brontz!

Or, perhaps, more apt dialect for the Bronte era would translate as ‘Fascinating. I completely and utterly agree, darling.’ Although, I still believe she would have thrown me a tremendous high five in there somewhere (Pow pow powww!)

By no means do I think my writing is anywhere near impeccable, and by no means do I lose sleep over it at night. It’s raw. It’s real. It’s a work in progress. The more I do, like anything else, the more I learn and ultimately grow from my experiences.

Just like the first time I went for a full body massage. Apparently, you are meant to go UNDER the towel to cover your modesty, not lie on top, naked, looking super eager with nothing but Sesame Street pants on, getting told to ultimately… ‘put it away!’ Needless to say, my face was as red as my MAC lipstick that morning. Oh, shit. I believe the Balmoral got a little more than it bargained for that day. 

But, you live and learn as they say! Moral of the story: never wear cookie monster pants that have shrunk two sizes too small if there is a slight possibility anyone might see. Hungry bum = not a great look.

Throughout writing my blog, I have had phenomenal support from my family and friends, who, often ask me… ‘When’s the next blog out?’ ‘When you pulling the finger out, it’s been ages?’ To which my reply usually is ‘Well, I have ideas… I’m just not quite finished yet.’ They generally fill me with reassurance and confidence about my passion for doing what I love. I’m sure if I wrote the biggest lot of gibbersh gobeldegok, they would still support me. I guess that’s one of the reasons  I love them so much.

In life, they say you can’t choose your family, but you can choose your friends, and boy, do I have the pick of the bunch. I have a whole assortment of beautiful, caring, loving, can’t breath for laughing, and would do anything for you friendships. Some with the life span of 25 years, some as little as 2, but little does time matter when you meet the right people in life who make you laugh that little bit harder and smile that little bit more.

They say the true meaning in life (no, no… it’s not to drink all the gin, dance like an idiot to Britney while using a straw as a microphone – sorry to break it!) is to love and be loved. It’s beautiful, right? I mean, when your friends still love you when you start throwing high 5’s to strangers after a few tequilas, are eternally late for every event in life period and entertain your tree surgeon alter ego chat repeatedly on nights out, endure your cheese jokes and cooking skills, or, lack off… they deserve some sort of medal really!

From the one’s who live round the corner to the one’s the other side of the world. The ones who I talk to everyday, and the one’s I don’t but even when I do feels like we’ve never had a day apart. For the times I’ve danced with them, the times I’ve been ridiculously drunk with them, the times I’ve ate my body weight in halloumi with them, the times we have laughed till we cried and cried till we laugh. I am eternally grateful for the strong, genuinely caring, loving and inspirational friends I have around me on a daily basis.

Sometimes, I guess you need to stop and think about it for a second, to realize how truly lucky you are to have people you don’t know what you would do without.  I have friends second to none who have inspired me to write this post today. Thanks for the encouragement/abuse/threats/inspirational words! I won’t fall off this time.

To a 2016 filled with more beautiful memories (and better pants, of course…)