2018, in my measurements.

There’s this little known song from a like, totally obscure musical you probably haven’t heard of idk, that asks us, the audience, how we measure a year. In daylights? In sunsets? In midnights? In cups of coffee…? 

I had this wacky idea almost two years ago to actually keep track of how many coffees I have each week. This was partly because people kept joking that I must consume a lot of the stuff, more than the average human, and I wanted to see if they were right (spoiler: they may have been) but mostly because of this song. I thought, well, yes. Cups of coffee is a perfect way to measure MY year! 

I keep a tally scribbled in my diary, and last year when I did monthly updates (they kinda trailed off when I went Down Under for Christmas, oops) I’d always put my cuppa stats at the bottom of each post. And now, at 7:30pm on New Years Day 2019, I can proudly announce that my past year consists of 470 cups of coffee. 

But why stop there? What else can I measure this year in? I thought of a few good units, now that you mention it… 

2018 was a year of... 

3 friends’ weddings,

4 holidays,

52 books,

30 shows and gigs,

13 photo shoots (approx 7 of which were with Erin, obvs),

1 award won,

1 new job,

3 trips to the Houses of Parliament,

2 nice first kisses,

4 fresh inkings,

20 blogger/book events.

But also…

3 brain scans,

1 major surgery,

19 counselling sessions, 

2 or 3 big disappointments,

4 drunken confrontations,

3 nasty hangovers,

1 friend’s funeral.

And then, as well as all that, I… 

Went to my first murder mystery party (my character was a bratty, young European pop star).

Attended the Vegan Life Live festival in Ally Pally.

Checked out a university I might want to go to for my MA.

Actually competed in an Ultimate Frisbee tournament for the first time in years.

Got my head shaved, and raised over £4,000 for The Brain Tumour Charity doing it – plus £500 for my local counselling charity.

Went to my high school bestie’s baby shower – then a few months later, met her perfect kid.

Went to an old friend’s hen do.

Learned some strip tease basics.

Attempted meditation, and failed yet again.

Competed in a marbles tournament, dressed as a giant inflatable dinosaur.

Got invited to a special anniversary party for the Creative Writing department at my alma mater. 

Downloaded Spotify, in an attempt to broaden my horizons and mix up my music taste. 

Got scouted for a new TV show, and (perhaps luckily) didn’t make the final cut.

Watched my creative friends kick some ass, and screamed myself hoarse cheering from the sidelines.

Posted photos of myself on Instagram, in my pants.

Met and befriended people I’ve followed online for what feels like ages.

Saw Taylor Swift’s ‘Reputation’ show at Wembley, danced hard and sang loud – and ugly-cried when she sang ‘Fifteen’. 

Got recognised from social media/my blog numerous times, and freaked out every time.

Stopped writing ‘just’, and cut down exclamation mark usage, in my emails.

Watched the World Cup and found myself burning with pride for England’s team.

Got tarot card sets given to me by friends, and began to delve deeper into astrology.

Took part in a Colour Walk, within a parade through Hastings.

Acted in a film.

Walked more.

Actually declared my sexuality to the world (via a blog post, of course).

Joined in a folk night sing-along at a new favourite pub.

Took part in a body positive flash mob, and marched through Carnaby Street in a bikini.

Threw a party in London to celebrate my brain’s continued health.

Suddenly became an underwear model. 

Walked 10k through Windsor for the 3^rd year in a row.

Had a delicious breakfast at Planet Organic.

Quit a job that made me stupidly stressed. 

Explored new cities.

Made endless game plans.

Dated someone.

Lost some friends, made new ones, and valued the oldest more than ever.

Thanked myself, yet again, for buying a diary at the beginning of the year and filling it with my activities, because looking back at what I’ve done is really quite something.