Ice Ice Baby...

So far, so good. The resolution for a post a day is going well!

Today, having had a very lovely 'date' day, the boy and I finally went ice skating. I mean, it's only been there since the middle of November, so it felt like an achievement to actually don the horrific complimentary blue ice skates and imagine myself as the better half of the next Torvill and Dean. Having had a slight stress at realising I had the dead weight of my Kate Moss for Topshop bag slung on my arm and not enough change for a locker (it would have definitely either killed me, or a small child, or both, had I taken it on to the ice...), the lovely woman behind the counter offered me a locker for free, having taken pity on myself and my lack of preparation. Unfortunately, my haste to get on to the ice meant I forgot both my packed socks (I was slightly prepared...), my camera and my gloves, meaning I had cold feet and hands and nothing to take my anticipated wintery snaps with. Oh well!

Despite the little hiccup in my plans, the skating was fab, and I didn't fall over once, even though I had many near-collisions with children and chavs alike (I'm a pro you see...). However, I hate to admit that a five year old put my skills to shame. Whilst I skated round hand in hand with the boy (both for the niceness of it and to prevent some over-enthused teen knocking me over), this tweenie child was skating round by herself, and she was actually amazing! I was slightly jealous at both her young bravery and her skating boots (she had the nice white ones I've always dreamed of). I really hate the plastic blue skates they always provide you with at rinks. For a start, they're horrific looking and so uncomfortable, what with those three belt-like straps holding your feet in like a straitjacket. Given that ice-skating is ultimately an elegant sport, it's difficult to comprehend why they give you the equivalent of breeze blocks for your feet. It's like giving ballerina's Doc Martins rather than pointe shoes. It kind of defeats the object...

Dream skates. The ones the ice rinks should provide you with rather the tragic plastic alternative.

 Moving on from my skate snobbery, I have to profess that I really do love ice skating. I always imagined myself as a figure skater, and as a child I was convinced I'd be alright at it given that I did ballet and all that jazz. However, this dream was taken away from me because I was brought up in the middle of nowhere that lacked an ice rink, and so my dreams of lycra were dashed and so we will move swiftly on...

I'm still convinced that this could have been me...

 Ice skating to me just seems so romantic. I love the idea of Victorian ice skating, where the men and the women met in their Sunday best. I bet it was a right dating hotspot...

All the single ladies... I'm loving the fur hats, I've ordered a vintage one just like them (kind of).

One of my favourite books from my childhood, Tom's Midnight Garden, is probably responsible for my idealistic view of ice skating: when Tom and Hatty used to meet at the midnight chime of the grandfather clock and skate on the frozen lake - him using her Victorian skates. And the endless images of the ice rink in Central Park always make me want to go ice skating and be in NY. I tried to find the ice rink when I was there in June, but unfortunately the Summer season was against me and sadly it was not to be found.

All this ice-skating talk is making me want to don those plastic skates and go again. The only thing stopping me is the realisation that unfortunately, there will forever be chavs and children alike on Newcastle's rink, which just is not big enough to cater for my taste. If I had my way, I'd have a whole ice rink to myself. Like this:

I love this image. An empty ice rink makes for perfect skating. I bet no chavs skated into Mrs Hobson...

 

 

 

 

Or, I'd just live in New York, where the ice rink is huge and big enough to avoid those pesky collisions...

But regardless, I did love my skating session today, and if I can convince the boy to part with another £16, I'm sure he'll take me again. Or at least take me to NY for the Central Park rink! (I jest. Well only slightly!) Given that we both sadly return to work tomorrow, ice skating was a lovely end to the festive period and we had a fab day. And now we're about to bake, with my Christmas tree cookie cutter (I refuse to let go of Christmas, clearly). Oh how I love date days...

New year. New resolutions.

I appear to have fallen off the blogging bandwagon, having been caught up in a whirlwind of Christmas present buying and wrapping, and decorating and celebrating. And eating, given my expanding waistline. And now, with the new year entering us into yet another decade, I have crashed back down to reality with the realisation that I have somewhat neglected everything non-Christmas related for the past month.

And so, having finally had my new years dinner (on the second I must add), I feel now that I can let go of the festive period, dust myself off and embark upon a new years resolution list.

It is as follows:

Number one on the list is to not abandon my blog. I intend to post every day if possible; or, failing that, as much as I can.

Number two is to read more: since graduating, I feel I have not done my literature degree justice as I have read very few novels if I'm honest, instead preferring to read the likes of Vogue and Grazia. First on my list is to finish Heller's Something Happened, followed by The Philosophy of Andy Warhol and Darkness at Noon. I then want to re-buy Breakfast at Tiffany's (having lent (and never gotten back) my unread copy to my ex-boss) and read that.

Number three, which should probably be number one in reality, is to keep looking every day for a new job. As much as I love my job in Office and my 35% discount, and as much as I'm hoping they keep me on, I need something to bring in the pennies and pay the rent every month. And for that I am willing to sacrifice my sanity for a lovely 38 hours a week.

Number four is to apply for my MA in fashion journalism in London. Enough said.

Number five is to keep sending out applications for internships and journalism placements in order to build up my portfolio and get as much experience as I can before I embark upon my grand plan to take down Wintour.

Number six is to always have fresh flowers in my house (bought by either myself or, more preferably, the boy).

Number seven is to save, save, save to pay off my horrific overdraft and actually get to London.

Number eight, again one of the big ones, is to shed my holiday lbs, plus a few extra just for good measure. In order to do so, I plan to join a gym and go five times a week.

Number nine is to buy a metro pass, as I waste many stirling pounds spending £1.90 (or the new, inflated price of £2.10) on a return ticket every day when a month's pass is a mere 25 sheets.

So there you have it. A simplified list of all the things I plan on doing to make this year better than the last. In all fairness, last year wasn't one of my greatest. My financial crisis meant I couldn't go to Glastonbury or Leeds, and meant I had virtually no money for 3/4's of the year. I lost a few friends and I lost my last job. However, 2010 was also a year for many amazing things too, which balances it all out. It was the year I practically toured Britain, visiting Cambridge, Nottingham, Manchester, York, Edinburgh, Watford, Leeds and London. I also flew transatlantic to New York, which pretty much made my life and made me realise that, at some point, I definitely do want to live there. It was the year the boy and I moved into a sexy flat and it was the year I managed to get all the Glastonbury tickets I was required to. I also saw Michael Flatley, Jamie T, Marina, John Cooper Clarke, Russell Brand, Crystal Castles, Wolfmother, and many more that I cannot think of off the top of my head.

And so I'm hoping 2011 will be much more amazing than 2010. I cannot wait for Glastonbury and I plan on travelling at some point. The boy and I are contemplating going to Sziget and visiting Budapest and parts of Germany en route home. 2011 is the year of the royal wedding, and so I am totally going to London to wave my union jack flag in celebration.

Hopefully this year I will keep my resolutions. Fingers crossed...