Saturday, January 03, 2009

New Year and all that jazz

Happy New Year everyone!

So I won the Barbie doll on eBay. Those other bidders didn't know who they were messing with. You cannot put a price on nostalgia. OK, well, actually you can. It cost me, postage included, about 40 pounds. Which, my sister tells me, is a pretty good deal for a 'vintage barbie'. She reckons some of the new ones in the shops are that and more these days. My sister knows about things like this.

I'm not entirely sure what I'm going to do with it when it arrives. Hardened collectors don't even take their dolls out of the boxes I'm told. But I'm not a collector. I'm just a sad woman with unresolved childhood issues, clearly. What is certain is that Peaches n 'Cream Barbie circa 1984 is not going anywhere near Julia. She is fond of putting things in her mouth and rubbing bits of food into said items, and I'd quite like Barbie to keep her beautiful blond perfect curls, well, blond and perfect. Especially after what I did to my original one's bountiful synthetic mane. We won't go there.

So New Year's. Well, it was good. We had a few friends round and we had a few drinks and the sun went down and came up the following day. I don't know, this year it didn't feel like a big deal to me, just another day. Elizabeth, who is visiting, says as you get older things like Christmas and New Year's tend to be that way. I remember as a kid allocating some kind of magical significance to the new year; planning what kind of personality I was going to affect at school that year, thinking up new ways to torture my siblings, that sort of thing. This year the only planning I did was limiting myself to 2 glasses of champagne (babies tend to wake up every day at 6 or 7am requiring care and attention irrespective of any hangover you might be courting), and tidying up after the party to reduce the amount of potential choking hazards on the floor.

And yes, it hasn't escaped me that the amount of alcohol I consumed may have something to do with my lackluster attitude to this oft celebrated holiday.

I am reading Barack Obama's 'Dreams from my father' which I am thoroughly enjoying. I am a sucker for autobiographical writing, and when it also happens to be educating (I don't count Jordan's books about her boob jobs and sex life that, although they are entertaining), it's a bonus. As a full-time parent you don't get a load of intellectual stimulation, so finding time to read, is for me at least, a rare and treasured indulgence.

No real resolutions this year. It would however be good to run into my neighbor and find a way of dropping into the conversation the fact that my mother has some problems with reality. Totally untrue of course, but rather he thinks she's loopy than I'm an alcoholic. No?

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