New year, not quite so new me

It's just over two weeks into the new year. I haven't made any new years resolutions. They don't seem to work - I think it's the feeling obliged to do something that makes me not want to. Like when I go on a diet I think constantly about eating chocolate, whereas normally I can take it or leave it. I've only once successfully managed to stick to any resolutions, and that was a couple of years back when I made five: lose weight, wear high heels more, have more sex, cook more, and learn how to play pool. By the end of the year, I had broken up with the guy who was encouraging me to cook and teaching me to play pool, and a couple of the other resolutions besides, and they fell by the wayside but I had made it to October, so I was pretty proud of myself.

So there are no resolutions. Nothing about losing weight. Or being more healthy. Or detoxing through January. Or resting my liver following a hectic December.

Because December turned into one big long night out.

There were gigs: Florence and the Machine (I'm thinking I still want to be her) and Spiritualized (I reckon the strobes have altered my vision forever) and Depeche Mode in a VIP box, where I got so incredibly drunk (a mix of bubbles, beer and vodka doesn't work on an empty stomach - who knew?) and had to be taken home in a taxi by Big Brother.

Dinners out in swanky restaurants: one unfortunately described as poncey by the leader of our party on what seemed like every time a member of staff wandered into earshot (the wine and the champagne was fabulous although not too sure about the parsnip tart) and another which featured both mushroom and bubble gum ice-cream (at opposite ends of the menu obviously) more fabulous wine and champagne, and toilets in singular egg-shaped pods.

And the Christmas drinks which ranged from small groups of friends catching up over a bottle of wine to the Christmas party in an 80's themed nightclub with bowls of cocktails, ridiculous dancing and a kiss with a cute stranger, to the jagerbomb fuelled Christmas Eve starting at lunchtime, which had promised to be "just a couple", and had me suffering from heart palpitations the next morning.

The few days between Christmas and New Years calmed down a little to feature a couple of football matches (one win, one loss), a curry in the east end, a cheese and wine party, pantomine, lovely dinner cooked by a friend, and New Years Eve in a nightclub, dressed as a saloon girl with the BF and scouser and some of the boys - the cocktails flowed and the snow fell as we walked home.

So should there be resolutions? After all that, probably yes. I should go to bed earlier, drink less, save more, eat healthier, do more exercise, work harder, blog more... Maybe I'll try and stick to one. I don't want to overdo it.