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:

leave a little sparkle

I hope you had the merriest, minciest and mulled winiest of Christmasses. I also hope that your day was filled with so much bubbly that you barely remember the Queen's speech and fell asleep on the sofa at 4pm because same, hun. 

indulging my inner upper-east sider

One of the things I love most about my relationship with Mikey is the way we've learnt to compromise on the things we disagree on. It goes a little something like this: Mikey doesn't want to do something, I want to do something = we do the thing that I want to do and Mikey just shuts up and gets on with it. Usually with the promise of beer and/or letting him watch the football in peace.