2023 Year in books

Classic literature often portrays reading as the antidote to loneliness, sadness, and isolation. But I’ve found my love of books nestles more closely to the fact I am insanely, annoyingly, incorrigibly curious. About everything. 

I simply cannot fathom how so many go through life without experiencing the profound joy of a beloved character overcoming hardship, or fascination about a life you’ll never experience first-hand, or simply shutting off from the world to sit in hours of silence with a bloody good story about which you had absolutely no idea about four hours earlier. I certainly don’t pedestalize reading above all else; I love a good 10-part Netflix series as much as the next person, believe me. But a life without books? Unimaginable. 

My favourite book: ‘Yellowface’ by R. F. Kuang

It’s genuinely not often that I sit down to read a book…and physically, physically cannot put it down. I started reading this on Saturday morning, and was still sitting there, unmoved, hours later when Matt got home from football—and he was playing away that day. The pacing, the unique subject matter, the examination of human emotion, racism, and identity: all so elite that I bought this book and sent it to three of my friends to read as well. A standout novel for me. Just so, so, so good.

If you do, you'll win - if you don't, you won't

“You can have everything in life if you will sacrifice everything else for it.” - Sir James Matthew Barrie

 

Caitlin Jenner put this another way: “I learned that the only way you are going to get anywhere in life is to work hard at it. Whether you're a musician, a writer, an athlete or a businessman, there is no getting around it. If you do, you'll win - if you don't, you won't.” 

So many people assume that true success requires being born with natural talent. But natural ability and Olympic/award/record-winning talent are two entirely different things. Cristiano Ronaldo didn't fall out of the womb clutching five Ballon d'Ors; he dedicated his life to earning them. He worked hard; it paid off. 

But…

Not only does it take years and years of hard (and often invisible) work to become truly successful at anything, you also have to give up one hell of a lot to become the best of the very best - whether you're naturally talented or not.

Many of us aren't prepared for the sacrifice it takes to get there, which is why so few of us win medals and so many of us hide behind phrases like 'naturally talented'. They may very well be, but they also spent three hours a day practising instead of rewatching Gossip Girl and obsessively painting their nails (guilty as charged).

While we're not all aiming for Ronaldo-level heights, it's important to remember that if you want to be successful at something, you pretty much can be. But only if you're motivated and dedicated enough to work your ass off for it (and maybe have a lil sprinkling of natural talent too). If you do, you'll win - if you don't, you won't.

Lockdown number three

As always, life continues to come in bursts of stability followed by unrest, happiness then frustration, and motivation followed by a complete lack of interest in doing anything other than sitting on the sofa with a glass of wine and tray of Ferrero Rocher. In fact, the only thing that's remained relatively constant recently is my hellbent dedication to doing Pilates every morning — if only to cling onto some semblance of a balanced life. Lockdown three, ya really killin' me slowly. 

Finally, something to celebrate!

After what feels like months of absolutely everything going wrong, I cannot put into words how alien it was to feel completely and utterly overjoyed the other day. It's been so long since I felt so utterly, unequivocally happy that I didn't even know what to do with myself, other than happy-ugly-cry for about three hours straight. I've been ready for something new for a while now and it seems like the universe is finally ready to let me get moving and grooving in London - because this gal has got a new job, baby!

Huge love and a big shout out to the barrage of beautiful little ladies I have around me who are ready to scream about, support and celebrate my every move; sending flowers, prosecco and chocolate because we can't celebrate in person (yet). I have never felt so grateful for my friends or so excited about my future career; it has been an insanely uplifting and happiness-filled few weeks. 🤩🥳

Is April Fool's Over Yet?

Well, I'm now into week eleven of lockdown (thanks to a badly timed and very drunken stint in Pisa back in February). And while it's definitely had its fair share of wobbles, I gotta be honest, on the whole I'm kinda loving it. Like McDonald's level, baby. Makeup free, no alarm, no commute, #BikiniLife in full, weather-dependent flow...yep, it's been pretty good. So here are a few things I'm grateful for...

Routine. For our daily routine of coffee and orange juice every morning (cos sometimes it's the littlest things).

The kindness of others. For a £40 Just Eat voucher from Matt's boss which resulted in a kickass kebab coated in my absolute fave ever condiment (if not overall food full stop); burger sauce. Secondly, for the neighbours who left a 'help yourself' book box outside on the day I ran out of books. And thirdly, for the people in my life being complete and utter babes; supportive, adorable, and always full of enthusiasm. 

Sunshine. For being able to work outside in the garden, which subsequently means I'm probably the most tanned I've ever been in England (and definitely almost as tanned as France a few years ago). Cheers, UK, really nailed it with the lockdown weather, babe.

Alcohol. And lastly, but most importantly, I'm grateful for gin and red wine because they've helped make this shit show of a situation more bearable with saucy juniper notes, full-bodied flavour, and high alcohol content. I would be certified insane without them both.

grateful heart #3

Five small things I'm grateful for (because I think we could all do with a little reminder of some good stuff right now): 

1. For enjoying a really, really, really good book recently. 
2. For finally starting to feel the benefits of daily meditation (or, as I like to call it, sitting in silence for 15 minutes, consistently and largely unsuccessfully trying to bat away the one million and one thoughts that fill my head). 
3. For a very long, laughter-filled phone call with my best friend. Funerals, global pandemics, and temperamental mental health chatter packed into one of our usual, insanely unfiltered and largely unintelligible to everyone else girl chats.
4. For the absolute best purchase I have ever, ever, ever made to help get me through this shitty isolation period.
5. And lastly, for these daffodils. Because they really did put a smile on my face the other day. 

grateful heart #2

I've dipped in and out of gratitude journaling for the past few years — never quite managing to nail it for any prolonged period of time despite always finding it helpful and kind of uplifting. HOWEVER. The only New Year's Resolution I made to myself with any sort of conviction this year was that I would write ONE thing, every single day, for an entire year, no matter what. Even if I'm so hungover I can't hold a pen. Even if I'm the most miserable, moody, hormonal cow on the planet and can't easily think of any obvious glitter from my day. Even if Channing Tatum came down from hunky heaven and told me I could dance in Magic Mike Live XXL if I purposefully skipped a day — I'd look him in his sexy potato face, and decline. Yep, I really meant it. So here are a few highlights from January:

a big old slice of holiday heaven

Sometimes in life (if you're super-lucky and the gods of good karma are shining cheerfully upon you from on high), you'll get to experience a niche brand of holiday heaven I like to call Killer Airbnb-ing. It's important to note that this cosmic feast doesn't come along too often, so if or when it does, make sure you book the shit out of that location pronto. And I mean SNAP. IT. UP. 

over-eating in the Cotswolds

Is it possible to go on a long weekend break without gaining half a stone in booze and food weight!? Asking for a friend. Because – honestly – if it is, I'm either doing long weekend breaks really wrong...or very, very, very right. And a little trip to the Cotswolds a few bank holidays ago was absolutely no exception, thank you. 

a peculiar year

I will be the first to admit that 2018 got off to a total clusterfuck of a start. I was a dog left outside in the rain: a cold, sad, downhearted bitch. However, where there is chaos also comes plentiful space for new beginnings and (very overdue) life sanitizing. Therefore, despite a start rockier than Rocky Balboa himself, 2018 really bloody outdid itself in the end so HUGE sexy points for that.

Gals on tour: Cote d'Azur edition

This positively FREEZING and gloomy January weather has put me in desperate need of a holiday, any form of sunshine and a plentiful amount of gin; which sadly doesn't taste the same when drunk on the sofa in a dressing gown and not in a bikini by a pool. 

Gals on tour: Castagniers Edition

Question: what do you get if you take 3 French uni grads and stick them in a villa in the South of France for 3 days? Answer: 6 different types of cheese, one sunburnt backside, some serious #freethenipple and one hell of a lot of red wine. 

italy, ya sexy piece of ass

Moment of appreciation please for the fact that way back in March, I managed to board a flight, set foot in 4 different countries and make actual functioning(ish) conversation with other humans...all while battling a fully fledged and very persistent prosecco-pong hangover. Moral of the story: never, ever kid yourself that staying for 'one drink' after the company update is a justifiable action the night before a 6am flight. I took this one for the team so you don't have to. It's a genuine miracle I managed to take photographs of anything other than my sad, sorry little self, but here we go; photos from San Remo, Monaco, Nice, Bussana Vecchia, and a few other places that were equally fit af but less easy to remember the name of.

bring it all back to you, baby

If getting S Club 7 lyrics tattooed on your forehead wasn't such a certified career-killer, I would 100% be getting this S Club 7 lyric tattooed on my forehead. Humour me for a second here and ignore the visions of 7 year old you singing it into a hairbrush (covered in glitter with crimped hair, obviously) and actually let this little beauty sink in: the only person in this whole entire world that you ever have to answer to, either now or in the distant future, is YOURSELF (repeating this for the people in the back: YOUR👏BLOODY👏SELF👏). I don't mean to be dramatic, but I truly believe this lyric has the ability to change your life more than any 6 month self-discovery yoga retreat in the Himalayas ever could. Really really.

Gals on tour: Canterbury Edition

GREAT NEWS, guys. The Gals on Tour series saw its second (and very long overdue) installment last weekend when myself Mills, Fran and Lydia said goodbye to our troubles and headed to Canters. We proceeded to spend 5% of our weekend exploring what Canterbury had to offer (expensive tea, cobbled streets, babein' architecture) and the other 95% drinking wine in our airbnb and stuffing our faces with thai, bolognaise, copious amounts of chocolate, sweets and pancakes. 

GRL PWR

First things first: shout out to best friends who spend their entire weekend rolling around like a fat shit with you when life gets too much, who help you eat through more than 6,000 daily calories completely devoid of judgement, who spoon you in the middle of the night without even realising it and, most importantly, who stand behind you in every decision you make even if it involves being dragged around hobbycraft looking for plaster of paris because you've decided you want to make hand sculptures (don't ask - it's been a weird weekend). Laughter really is the best medicine and between the tears and mini mental breakdowns, Lydia - you've been a shining beacon of light, laughter, atrocious smells and questionable fashion choices. I would be a lot thinner without you, but also miserable as fuck. 💛 you a LOT. 

grateful heart #1

I don't even know where to start with this post so I'll just go from the beginning (but keep it as short as poss, don't worry huns - i got u).

So, I've been doing a LOT of self-help reading recently and as part of my attempted ascent to the Positive Vibes Only Zone I decided to start a gratitude journal. With no expectations whatsoever and, to be quite honest, a feeling that gratitude journalling was a bit of wanky exercise to undertake; I assumed I'd give it up in a few days, relegate the notebook back to bottom-drawer status, and return to instastalking instead. Like, who tf sits down and spends precious time writing down that they're grateful for Zac Efron's face anyway?! (...)

a pretty wonderful wednesday

There are a million reasons why I love the shit out of my mum, but by far the most important one is that she can always be relied upon to pour a very large glass of wine at the end of a long day (or a short day for that matter because whatever the question, fermented grapes are probably the answer). It's a de-stressing reflex action that I have enthusiastically enjoyed with her on numerous occasions over the years and one for which she deserves the utmost credit. For real, I have struggled to find another human who embodies the ideology of "wine not?" quite so effortlessly and wholeheartedly as she. If I ever doubt for a second that I'm my mother's daughter, a quick peek in the fridge on a Monday Friday night brings it right back in all its pinot-y, sauvignon blanc-y, glory. 

happy tears > sad tears

It's become frighteningly apparent recently that the only thing I know with any degree of certainty...is that I have absolutely no fucking idea what I'm doing. Which makes it very, very, very nice to know that there are some truly beautiful little people in my life capable of doing some truly beautiful little things. Namely, this little care package that arrived unannounced on my doorstep last Friday from the babe to end all babes that is Mary-Kate Zhoweveryouspellit. I'm getting teary again just typing this so I'll leave you with the reminder that not all heroes wear capes - sometimes heroes really do come in the form of polish pals with a penchant for brunch. MK you are a marvel, thank you for being the absolutely cracking pair of tits person that you are.

2017: it's been emotional

2017; while I can't deny you've been blissfully wonderful for the most part (i.e: the most tanned I have ever and probably will ever be, the taking of my NY virginity, a very boozy birthday weekend in the New Forest)...my god, you've been pretty fucking shite at times too, ahem, mental health I am glaring at you cough cough. I'm hoping and praying that 2018 is a little kinder to my brain while remaining just as full to the brim of gin. So, that said, my New Year's Rezzie's are looking like this: