Sunday, 3 January 2010


When the clock struck 12 to welcome New Year's Day, the London eye lit up to reveal a technicoloured rainbow (I wish I was there not cooped up at home looking after my brother). But my childlike sense of happiness at seeing this electric spectacle was cut short when I discovered that nobody my age knows the words to "Auld Lang Syne" – not even the first line. So depressing. I made a promise that the next day I would print them out so that in a year's time we'd all be up to speed; this is something I have yet to do, because I quickly realised I'm the only one who cares.

I have a love-hate relationship with New Year’s resolutions. On the one hand, the idea that I can rework my entire approach to life just based on a simple change in the calendar is very seductive. Of course, I never set modest – or even remotely reasonable – goals. Past examples include: “I vow to stop eating chocolate”, “I won’t sleep in past 11 a.m.,” and “Learn The Guitar.” New Year’s resolutions are like an army of Grinches who truly steal Christmas.

To stop biting my nails has been my resolution for the past 5 years and I have still not done it. I have tried everything; that foul tasting spray you put on the end, I have tried to ignore my hands, by wearing gloves, I have also tried to find a habit to take its place. But no nothing seems to help. My friends often find pleasure in pointing out my horrible trait, so much so, that I have the name "Salad Fingers". Maybe I should take up smoking,after seeing Nowhere Boy with a friend we both came to the same conclusion that it looks painfully cool, shame it will probably kill me.

1 comment:

  1. It will be great to watch The Addams Family, i have bought tickets from looking forward to it.