A Bridget Jones-style Review of 2015

Unintentionally appropriate gif...

So, it's almost that time of year when every single newspaper prints a cartoon of an old man with a long beard, wearing a sash that says "2015," walking past a newborn baby wearing a sash that says "2016."  Seriously, get a new meme, guys...

In honour of the end of the year, I thought I'd do a review blog.  But, seeing as I have a headache (from staring at this screen for way too long) and therefore don't fancy doing a review of actual, serious world issues and cultural developments in 2015, I'm doing a Bridget Jones-style one of my personal year.  You lucky devils.

Here we go, then...

No. of calories consumed: Roughly twenty million billion.  Diet starts next year.  Maybe.  If my clothes stop fitting.

No. of boyfriends: None.  Zero.  Zilch.  I'm fine, though, guys.

No. of celebrity crushes: Loads.  I may be terminally unattached in reality, but my subconcious gets around a lot.  From Johnny Galecki, James Dean Bradfield and Josh Widdicombe, to people whose names don't even begin with J, the list is long, this year.

No. of real-life crushes: If you don't count the brief "hangover" crush I had from last New Year up until February, then just the one (which I've been harbouring since bloody March).  My subconcious is a right tart with celebs, but I'm bizarrely faithful to real-life people who almost certainly aren't interested.  Good times.

No. of units consumed: Probably too many.  But you know what?  I really love you. *hiccup*

No. of holidays been on: I'm starting to wonder whether Butlin's counts, anymore, seeing as I'm there so often that if I was an MP, I could probably claim expenses on it as a second home.  But then again, if you don't count it, I don't think I've actually been on holiday this year.  It sounds much more impressive if I count my visits to Minehead, so... Um... Maybe six?  Ugh, hang on, this "review" is starting to sound like one of those awful "round-robins."

"Emma has been on six glorious holidays, this year.  Isn't she wonderful?"

No. of blogs written: Including this one and the final two children's bedtime stories I have cued up and ready to post, I think my final total for the year will be 114.  That's a whole lot of rambling for this curly-haired girl.

No. of books published:

Semi-autbiographical novel for adults.  Buy it here. Pretty please.

A week of stories for children.  Buy it here. It's good, I promise.

TWO.  That's two more than last year and frankly, I'm calling that a result.  I'm already planning ideas for the Seven Days... sequel, which I hope to release in Spring 2016, so here's hoping I can either match or better this record, next year.

No. of celebrities met: I think it's hovering at around 12 or 13.  I'm not a stalker, I promise...

No. of concerts attended: Only around 3 or 4, I think.  Not good enough.  Must try harder.  Still, the number of concerts I attended at which I cried my eyes out and filmed my own tears is only at one, so that's something...

No. of daily medications now being taken: Six.  I know.  This is what comes from having the lungs of a ninety year old miner, a belly that can't apparently digest anything without causing ridiculous pain and sinuses that block more often than a poorly-functioning toilet.  Come and get me, boys.

Tattoos gained: One.  I have one half of a song lyric and my bestie has the other.  Basically, I've branded her as mine.  Mwahahahaaaaa.

My foot, her arm.

No. of statues/funny signs/inanimate objects I have insisted on posing with for a photo: Too many.  Somebody needs to stage an intervention.

Seriously.

No. of times I've said I'm giving up on writing: Probably at least a thousand.  Every writer does it.  Very rarely do we ever mean it.

New Year's resolutions: 

• Lose slightly more weight and do slightly more exercise.  You know, slightly.
• Grow my bloody fingernails, so I can finally stop putting this on my resolution list.
• Plan more girly days with Mum.
• Plan more, er, blokey days with Dad?
• Write more.  Publish more.  Make EL James' sales look pitiful.
• Will find nice, sensible boyfriend and stop forming romantic attachments to any of the following: alcoholics, workaholics, sexaholics, commitment-phobics, peeping toms, megalomaniacs, emotional fuckwits or perverts.  Okay, I stole that one from Bridget...
• World domination.  Actually scrap that; sounds like too much pressure.
• Be happy and healthy in 2016.

Thanks for sticking with me, everyone.  I wish you all a very merry Christmas and here's to a fantastic New Year.  xx