Saturday 1 January 2011

This year (with apologies to Jamie Cullum)

I have found myself humming a Jamie Cullum song for the last few days, with a few words changed. I'm hoping this can be the basis for a deep blog post on how this year is going to be different, but alas, I fear not.

This year
nothing's gonna change
I'm gonna read as many books
I'm gonna keep up with the news*
I'm still not really gonna cook
And I'll spend almost nothing on shoes

*If by news you mean the inner workings of American politics, not anything about the country I'm actually living in, or very much about the one in which I was born

I haven't done the whole "how 2010 was" deep thinking thing, mainly because, as far as I can tell, it was no different to 2009. Even the holidays I took were almost identical. I carried on working on my novel. I climbed one or two more rungs on the freelance journalism ladder. I still haven't met Bradley Whitford or Janel Moloney. I'm still watching the West Wing to an extent that may be considered unhealthy by some. I'm still a bit of a hermit, and still a little surprised at this. I'm still learning the oboe. I'm still having existential crises about how I really ought to have done more with my life by now. I'm still teaching languages. I'm still single. I'm still dreaming of DC. I'm still reading, reading, reading.

Some of those things are highly enjoyable. I'm not complaining, as such.

Where am I going with this? I'm not sure, and that's kind of the point. Part of me would like things to change this year, although since I don't like change much, I'm not even really sure about that. But I'd like to get to the end of this year and not think, as the Americans so eloquently put it, meh. Let's see...





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