“I will keep my juggs enclosed in my over the shoulder boulder holder at all times” and other New Years vows that won’t make it to February

This year, I rang in the New Year at a less than adequate and very dead party that I was not nearly drunk enough for (read: very excruciatingly sober). This was probably a sign to the subpar year that I was (unfortunately) about to hit head on (literally. Heels aren’t my forte).

I made it to 17. I made it to graduation (barely) and I didn’t trip (or faint) across the stage – a feat in itself.

I got my heart broken by a nameless boy with pretty hair at a party. It’s okay, I have nicer ankles than her.

I sobbed as my friend turned brother left for the army. He failed to mention he was just going in as a mechanic, I wasn’t amused.

I made new best friends whose names I didn’t know, or my old mate Smirnoff decided i shouldn’t remember, but those times we shredded the dance floor together or rolled down a hill at the beach at 3am, were special for those of us who were gone six shades to the wind, the designated drivers however wouldn’t agree.

It was a year of backseat dance alongs and sing alongs that turned into absolute scream alongs when Ed Sheeran was involved. A year of tests that were passed and ones failed so miserably there was nothing left to do but laugh (Maths was not and is still not my strong point). It was a year of poise and grace, until there was a sale on passion pop at BWS, then it just got nasty.

I spent halloween with my maths textbook and calculator in an attempt to prove to myself and my parents that i was dedicated to my studies (and i really deserved that Givenchy bag). Spoiler, it didn’t work, maths will never be my strong point).

I finally started a blog and watched as the view counter rose in 47 countries around the globe, including countries like Bosnia and Luxembourg. I gained over 70 followers that weren’t family or people that were force fed my blog on Facebook and twitter every week, and I’ve never been more amazed.

I got my first rejection letter, or email, or meeting? I’m not quite sure what to think of what could have been if that Editor finally called me back in for another meeting. I was holding off for the New York Times anyway.

I figured out what I wanted to do with my life that wasn’t marry Richard Branson- just one long term goal amongst 10 short-term ones I’ll likely give up mid-February, if not 3am January 1. Take each one with the skepticism you’d give a smoker who says “I’m not addicted, i can stop at any time,” and watch as I throw back a punnet of Ben and Jerry’s for every failed attempt at the following:

  1. I will get my drivers license and be the sober driver for once.
  2. I will do things when I say I’m going to do them (like washing my makeup brushes and paying back the $30 I’ve owed my mum since mid 2012).
  3. I will not spend $100 on bath products every time i step into Lush.
  4. I will stop going into Lush.
  5. I will shave my legs more than once a month.
  6. I will not start a conversation with a male with “so.. what does your dad do?”
  7. I will keep my juggs enclosed in my over the shoulder boulder holder at all times
  8. I will not touch my friends boobs or bums (unless they ask me to)
  9. I will drink alcohol that doesn’t end with the word “pop” and start with “passion.” 2015 is all about class.
  10. I will not spend all day sitting outside of the medicine building at uni trying to find a husband.

To another year and another New Years Eve party, let’s hope its better than the last. Sorry Lachie.

IMG_9159

 

 

IMG_9137

Advertisements

2 thoughts on ““I will keep my juggs enclosed in my over the shoulder boulder holder at all times” and other New Years vows that won’t make it to February

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s