Monday, 5 January 2015

A Fond Farewell

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Once you've spent a year with someone or something, you tend to find a sense of familiarity. Spend 365 days with a person and it'd be a bit odd if you didn't discover things like their preferred way of making tea or how dramatically they sneeze. Spend 52 weeks using something and doing so will probably become second nature. 

You, however, managed to keep me guessing for 12 months.

I knew from the beginning how my life would be when we parted ways. It was always going to be a bit of a mess, wasn't it? You were able to give me time and headspace to spare, waste and use to flounder - luxuries I'm not sure I'll get to enjoy again any time soon. My last stretch of somewhat-guaranteed stability left with you.

Things were quite different for me when you first turned up. I had a best friend that I now haven't spoken to in months, I thought I was certain of the direction in which I was heading and, most importantly, my hair was hella different to how it is now. I hadn't yet learned just how heavy my head can feel for no tangible reason and I'd never touched coffee. But things do, have and will change, which isn't something to be uptight about. I learned that from you and, among other things, your incredible ability to inflict coffee stains on every white thing I own. Thanks for that.

You made me think in ways I'd never even considered, let alone tried, and you introduced me to people that I hope stick around in your absence. You taught me things about myself - like the fact that I do, indeed, like avocados and whiskey. Maybe not at the same time, but who knows. Perhaps your successor will teach me otherwise.

You forced me to reluctantly grow up, regardless of whether I felt ready - and I'm talking the 'register as self-employed and remember tax is a thing' kind of growing up. Thanks for that too, you irritatingly responsibility-inflicting creature, you.

Of course, me being me, it's the uncertainty of what will follow you that worries me most. There's a chance I'm going to have to adapt a lot to deal with whatever's on its way, as per usual, and we can only hope you've done a decent job of preparing me for it.

Perhaps I should have started this by acknowledging the futility of saying goodbye when you're already gone. Or, better yet, made a note of the fact that I know you're simply a passage of time and never really possessed the ability to read this in the first place.

But you, 2014, were a year worth dwelling on. And, despite all of your quirks, flaws and the mistakes I made with you, I reckon I'm going to miss having you around.


Monday, 20 October 2014

An Ode to Comfortable Footwear


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On my nineteenth birthday, my mam managed to give my life a complete overhaul with one simple purchase. For £85, she made struggles such as boarding public transport significantly easier and led me to begin reading the balance of my bank account in a completely new currency: the price of trainers. 

Friday, 17 October 2014

Laura Bates: Everyday Sexism


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As Laura Bates’ Everyday Sexism talk at Durham Book Festival came to an end, an elderly audience member asked whether it had saddened me. And yet despite the stranger’s certainty that “it should have done,” the talk, which focused on Bates' experiences of creating and running the Everyday Sexism project, left me feeling optimistic.

Wednesday, 15 October 2014

Uniform Living


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We dress ourselves each morning with a certain intention. Perhaps you meticulously plan your outfit, hoping that someone will notice and acknowledge your efforts. Maybe you were running late this morning and threw on your sister's t-shirt, later discovering that it's too short to meet the waistband of your jeans. 

Sunday, 12 October 2014

Emily Begins to Bl*g a Bit


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I frequent Starbucks enough to know the baristas by name; I regularly start a new book without having finished the last; and I rarely manage to walk from A to B without stumbling a couple of times. I wouldn't, however, say I blog much - and certainly not 'a lot'.