About this time last year, I wrote a list of 26 things I wanted to do before I turned 27. You can read the full list (which included everything from knitting a jumper to going to New York) here.

Unfortunately item #19 on my list (write a dissertation) proved to take up rather more of my time that I had naively anticipated, and so in the end, I never quite got round to doing many of the more ambitious things on my list. However, I did manage to tick off a grand total of 7 (!) things from my list, as follows...

#3 Sit around a midsummer bonfire

#25 Drink champagne
I’ll admit it’s largely been sparkling wine rather than actual champagne this year. But surely it’s the principle that's important.

#26 Take a break
OK, it wasn’t quite as restful as I envisaged, what with a dissertation to write and job applications and interviews to deal with, but my two months by the sea in Dunbar did give me chance for many lie-ins and aimless meanderings through woods and along beaches.

#10 Go wild swimming
I was determined to swim in the sea at least once in Scotland this summer. I've never swum in the North Sea before, and can honestly say that it was possibly my coldest and most painful (yet strangely exhilirating) swimming experience ever.

#7 Practice the piano

#17 Find a lovely place to live
I always wanted to live in a flat in an old Georgian house on a quiet, leafy London street... and now I actually do! OK, so I didn't imagine it would have a mildewed bathroom ceiling but you can't have everything. This spring I'm planning to buy red geraniums for a window box - the perfect finishing touch to an unexpectedly lovely place to live.

… and finally…

#19 Write a dissertation
At last it’s finished. That’s all I’m saying on the subject

[Image by kristina♥kiessig via tumblr]

I haven’t written anything here for a while, largely because I’m in the middle of trying to write an essay about Mrs Dalloway. Right now, I feel like I hate Virginia Woolf a bit, but I know from experience that I will probably forgive her again when I have finished writing the essay. That’s just how it goes. The essay isn’t actually due until 19 January (which, coincidentally, is also my birthday) but I have been trying to get as much written as possible before I go back to work tomorrow.

It’s now 2009. Today it’s very cold, and as I am writing this it is snowing a tiny, tiny bit. It’s a grey and dark day.

2008 has ended, and I don’t really know what I think about the last year. It was a funny one I think. It had a lot of good bits, but overall I feel it was a tough year, a year of hard work and graft. If I was going to represent it symbolically, it would be one of those big cart-horses, or possibly some sort of barefoot Victorian orphan getting sent down the mines or up chimneys. I hope that this year will be different, with less hard graft and more fun. I would like to feel a lot more healthy, have more energy, and spend more time sleeping. I am tempted to say I would like this year to be like a happy sloth, but I think it might be better to opt for something with a bit more vitality and ‘oomph’, like a poodle, or an iguana, or perhaps an anteater.

I haven’t actually made any new years resolutions, but if I was going to make any they would be along the lines of “eat more cake” (which I'm sure I saw suggested on a blog somewhere -can't remember where though) or “more playing” (see Chris Cleave’s 'Down with the Kids' column in yesterday’s Guardian).

Here's a few highlights from 2008:

Books: as always, too many to list, but off the top of my head, The End of Mr Y by Scarlett Thomas, Perdido Street Station by China Mieville, The Lonely Londoners by Sam Selvon and pretty much anything by Haruki Murakami and Barbara Pym.

Exhibitions: many, many, many, but some that spring to mind are Peter Doig at Tate Britain, Pipilotti Rist at FACT, Made Up at Tate Liverpool especially the Drawing Room, The Intertwining Line at Cornerhouse, Made Up at The Bluecoat, and...erm... From Toad Hall to Pooh Corner at Seven Stories.

Watching: Juno, The Dark Knight, The Cat Returns, Little Dorrit, The Wire, Quatermass and the Pit

Listening to: CSS, Kraftwerk, Bat for Lashes, Stereolab, The Long Blondes, Squarepusher's 'Just a Souvenir' album, old Kate Bush records, Birdsong Radio and of course the Ting Tings.

Events: again, far too many to list, but I must mention the very fine no point in not being friends, as well as of course, the Manchester Blog Awards at MLF.

Thing I missed but wish that I had not: the La Machine Spider in Liverpool.

Some other things I have appreciated and enjoyed this year include: blankets (especially my electric blanket); pyjamas; dark chocolate; rare moments of sunshine; the outside bit at The Bluecoat in Liverpool; my leopard print earrings; trains; cinnamon tea; the colour moss green; porridge for breakfast; ginger beer; knitting; long cardigans; Spritz Aperol; baths; vietnamese food; exploring London; my mum’s soup; mittens; making lists; chicken dinner with my favourite red cabbage; really nice pens; parks; naps.

It has been a mixed week so far. These are some of the good things which have happened in it:

I bought myself a really excellent new cardigan.

The sun has come out! You could almost suspect it is summer.

I found out that I got a distinction for an essay I wrote about some brain-melting cultural theory things (I am feeling pretty disgustingly smug about this one, actually).

Tomorrow I get to go to Newcastle to visit the Seven Stories Centre, which in case you don't know, is an arts centre devoted entirely to children's literature. I am so excited. The fact that is actually part of my job makes it even better.

.... and some less good things which have also happened:

Now that it is hot, my beautiful sun-allergy blisters are back, decorating my face with their loveliness. Yes, I am allergic to the sun. I am very, very special.

My throat of doom has returned. it is like an uber villain from an action film, possibly The Terminator. Every time you think you have well and truly destroyed it, it is back with a vengeance, seemingly more hell-bent on evil than ever before.

The electronic council tax robots forced me to pay them £956 of council tax. Why the streets are not paved with actual gold here in Didsbury, I truly cannot imagine.

I missed out on this lovely event yesterday which I really wanted to go to, because I was tired and felt ill (see doom, throat of) after a particularly exhausting day at work. It was rubbish.

Still, in spite of all this, the sun has been shining, and I do get to go and see an exhibition tomorrow entitled 'From Toad Hall to Pooh Corner'.

On balance, I think life is okay.

Just to clarify, I think I ought to briefly explain exactly what I mean by "ooh - project!", for those who are not so intimately familiar with the 1995 Amy Heckerling tour-de-force that is Clueless. Sadly, it is a truth universally acknowledged that not all are as appreciative of the 1990s teen movie oeuvre as I, and so for the benefit of the unenlightened, “ooh, project!” is an exclamation one might make when confronted with a new and exciting task, such as transforming a high-school no-hoper into a fully manicured, coiffured, knee-sock-flaunting, plaid-miniskirt-wearing hottie, or indeed getting stuck into any particularly appealing new scheme, in this case trying to suss out exactly what the whole crazy world of blogging is about (see below).

I would love to say here that in future this blog will be referencing more highbrow, intellectual sources, perhaps some Adorno or Derrida, a little Nietzsche, maybe Foucault, Baudrillard? (But not Lacan. Definitely never Lacan.) However in spite of all my academic credentials the truth is I’m much more likely to return to Clueless. It is after all, possibly the most quotable film ever made: for any given situation, I promise you there is an appropriate Clueless quotation to fit it. And at the end of the day, shocking though it may be, I can’t help suspecting that when it comes to a stand off between Of Grammatology and Clueless, I suspect that Clueless is just a teensy bit more fun. Of course, it's also "way existential"... like, everyone knows that.

... my very brilliant and talented boyfriend has been presenting a paper on psychogeography at the 7th annual literary london conference at Brunel University today, and I'm sure he's having a celebratory drink or two this evening.

Unfortunately I'm not there. Back here in Manchester, I've also missed out on the Contents May Vary publication launch at Castlefield Gallery yesterday and the Art of Sound: Sound of Art event with RNCM at the Whitworth Art Gallery tonight.

So what, I hear you ask, are my glamorous, exotic, fun-filled alternative plans for the end of my week? Well, so far I have to say, Friday night has been pretty hot stuff. I'm talking drinking tea, watching 'Celebrity Masterchef', nursing the sore throat and reading 'The South Manchester Reporter'! And now I'm going to bed early. No doubt about it, I sure do know how to party.

Today I am at home, with a throat infection, feeling sorry for myself.

Luckily, this most excellent blog post from Jenn Ashworth has cheered me up. I have long contemplated doing a creative writing MA course - and this one includes free tea, gin AND humiliation.

Love it, love it. Now the only question is, where am I going to find a pink dress and a kitten?